Disclaimer: I do not own Noir. Noir belongs to Ryoe Tsukimura & Beetrain,ect. This story is rated T for violence, disturbing thoughts and slight shoujo-ai content. This story is through Kirika's POV.
Memory Fails Me
Lost Kitten- ep. 6
Some Eastern European Country -
The climate of the country where our new mission was to take place was cold. It was much colder than Paris. I wore a mustard colored jacket with a white fleece lining, a yellow turtleneck, khaki pants that were tucked into brown lace up boots. Mireille wore a burgundy coat with black fur trim, a rose colored scarf at her neck, with beige pants and lavender gloves. We were dressed for the colder weather. We pulled up in our black rented car to the place we were to stay at until our job was completed.
Mireille got out of the car first, and I was right behind her. She hadn't been in a good mood the entire trip here. I knew she was thinking of the events from just a few days ago. She was thinking about what she had found out from her murdered friend, Valnel. She was wondering about the meaning of the photocopies in the folder, and about our mysterious enemies, The Soldats. She had finally admitted to me that her family had been murdered back in her homeland of Corsica. She told me the pocket watch I had, was the one that had been playing the melody at the murder scene. It had belonged to her father.
I had believed it was mine. I guess because I had found it along with my gun, ID card, and school uniform after I had woke up all alone, and without my memory. The watch had seemed familiar to me, but I always had a feeling that it wasn't really mine. Why I felt that way...I don't know. But now I knew I just had one less thing in which to call my own.
As I began to follow Mireille into the building, I heard a soft "Meow" behind me. I turned around to see a snow white kitten with eyes the color of Mireille's. The kitten looked up at me, almost like it needed me. I looked at it and blinked. I wondered if it was lost. I wondered if it was cold and hungry.
"What are you doing?" Mireille asked. I looked away from the kitten, and over at her. "We're all checked in! Let's get to the room." she tells me, impatiently.
"Um" I said softly, as I looked down. I hated when she acted bossy like this. I looked over at the kitten one more time, before I obediently followed Mireille to our room.
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Mireille and I stand up on a hill and look down at the village below. Mireille is looking through her binoculars. She is doing surveillance on our target.
"Theres no one here who even knows his name, and for all his work he seeks no compensation. He's devoted all his time to helping the people here; for years...for decades. The people here idolize him. They even call him a Saint. But who he really is; Yuri Nazarov, a butcher for the KGB. During the purges in the U.S.S.R, there was an ethnic minority called the 'Tashkil'. They were slaughtered almost to the man in a Soviet death camp. Deaths that were ordered by Yuri Nazarov. Shortly thereafter, he quit the KGB and disappeared, erasing his traces so completely it was like he never existed at all. No one knows why. But now he's a Saint to the destitute." Mireille informed me.
"Our client's are the surviving descendants of the Tashkil. Although it seems that Nazarov is trying to atone, the hatred of the few who survived can't be erased so easily. That's where we come in." Mireille tells me, then she turns and looks at me.
"A simple job really." she says.
I look at her. "Hmm" I mutter in reply. No job is simple, I think. I feel somewhat bad for this man. He is trying to atone for his sins. Shouldn't that count for something?
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Mireille and I walk back to our room. We don't talk. She seems deep in thought, and I can't think of anything to say to her anyway. Suddenly, I see a flash of white. It is the kitten again. The kitten stares at me with his big, blue eyes before slowly creeping away. I watch it as it turns the corner. I feel like the kitten has been waiting for me to return.
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Mireille sits at the small desk with her laptop open and is doing research. I am sitting in a chair that I pulled over to the window so I could see outside. As I looked out at the street, I hoped I would see the kitten again. I think of it being lost...of being unable to find it's way home. What if it's cold? I remembered the way it stared at me with big, blue eyes. What if it needed me? I worried, as I stared out of the window.
"Mireille? I'm going out for a walk." I tell my partner softly, as I get up from my chair.
"Huh?" Mireille looked up at me in surprise, then watched me go to the door, before turning back to her research.
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I have on my heavy jacket as I walk around in this chilly weather. If I'm cold then the kitten must be too. I look around the side of a building for it, hoping to find it there. I don't see it. I am surprised because I am actually feeling worried about it. I hope I can find it again.
I hear a loud noise behind me. I turn to see a garbage can overturned, with it's contents spilling out. I see the little white kitten digging through it. I feel so relieved to have found it! It needs me... .it must be hungry, or it wouldn't be digging through the garbage like this. I feel a soft smile warm my face. I was going to rescue this lost kitten. It really needed me!
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I slowly open the door of the room where Mireille and I are staying. I try to hide the brown paper bag as I make my way into the room.
Mireille is lying on one of the twin beds in a red sweater and beige pants. She looks up from her magazine as I come in.
"I'm back." I tell her, softly.
"You've been gone awhile." she responds, with a almost worried tone to her voice.
"Uh-mm" I agree, as I hold on tight to the paper bag.
Mireille sits up, and looks at the bag in my arms in confusion.
"What's that? Did you buy something to eat?" she asks curiously, with a slight edge to her voice.
I look down at the bag, which begins to shake as I try to hold it still. I look at Mireille, and the kitten suddenly pops his head out of the bag. I look at the kitten. (I knew that I should have found a better way to sneak it in!)
Mireille looks at the kitten in surprise. Then she looks at me with an agitated look. "Please tell me...you're not really thinking of.." she sighs.
Later, Mireille and I are eating dinner at a local restaurant. We are eating quietly when she brings up the kitten again.
"Please say you weren't really thinking..." she begins.
"Hm" I respond, wondering what she is trying to say, but I think I know.
Back at our room, I lay on the bed on my stomach. I am watching the kitten drinking from a saucer of milk I have given him. The kitten looks so content as it laps at the milk. I keep watching as the white kitten drinks. I feel glad that I am able to give it this treat.
Mireille is lying in the other bed with her arms behind her head. She looks as though she has a headache.
"Please tell me...you're not thinking of taking it back to Paris with us, are you?" she asks me, pointedly.
I stare down at the kitten.
"Does this cat have a name?" I ask softly.
I can feel Mireille turn and look at me, curiously. "Huh?"
"If he has a name, then he's not like me. If this cat has a name, he's only physically lost. But I don't even have a name. All I have is a lie called Yumura, Kirika." I tell Mireille sadly.
I can feel Mireille stare at me before she turns over on her side, and faces away from me. I can hear her sigh loudly.
"It's all the same to me. It doesn't change the fact that you're just part of a much bigger lie. But then again, in the end I'm in the same boat that you are. We're both floating adrift in the dark at the mercy of the currents. In order to find the real answers we'll have to ask The Soldats." she tells me harshly.
"The Soldats. I still don't know enough to know what that means. Not yet. But I swear I will find out!" Mireille says firmly.
I look over at her from my bed. I can see the way her back goes rigid, and I hear the determination in her voice. I know how troubled she is by this puzzle we are both a piece of...I am troubled too.
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A little later, Mireille falls asleep. I decide to take the kitten and go outside with it. I know Mireille won't let me keep it inside the room for long. Mireille has fallen asleep with her clothes on, but I still pull the sheet over her before I leave. It is chilly in the room, and I don't want her to get cold. I wonder if she would do the same for me.
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I sit on a bench with the kitten asleep in my lap. I gently stroke his soft fur as he purrs gently. He is such a gentle creature. I wonder if he will ever find his way to where he belongs. I feel I can relate to this small animal.
"I wish that... at least I knew what you're name was." I tell the kitten, softly.
"P...Prince Myshkin."
I look up in surprise at the voice, and see an old man. I stare at him...and he stares back at me. I know him...
"Did you say Prince Myshkin?" I ask softly. The kitten immediately jumps down, and goes over to the old man. The man reaches down and gently picks the kitten up. He holds it against his chest as it nuzzles against his chin. I find I feel like once again, I have lost something I thought was mine to someone else. But at least the kitten has a name. He's not like me.
"You asked what this fellow's name was. It's Prince Myshkin." the old man informs me, kindly.
I look up at the man "So he belongs to you, then?" I ask.
"Yess...but the little cossacks been missing for a few days. It seems I have you to thank for taking care of him." he tells me, appreciatively.
I didn't mind. I was glad to take care of the kitten. I'm glad he has a home. He has a owner who loves him...except this man is Yuri Nazarov. Our target.
"Oh no, It was nothing really." I tell the old man, softly.
"Please allow me to thank you anyway, for his sake." He tells me, as he nods at the kitten. "Goodbye, young lady." he tells me as he turns away.
I stand up from the bench. "Goodbye, sir...and goodbye, Prince Myshkin." I reply softly.
The kitten looks back at me and gives me a "Meow".
The old man laughs. "The prince is saying that he will miss you." and then he begins to walk away.
I will miss you too, kitten...I mean...Prince Myshkin. At least you have a name. Not a lie...and you also have a home...except Mireille and I are supposed to kill the one who takes care of you... I think sadly, as I watch the old man holding the kitten walk away.
Suddenly, the old man stumbles, and the kitten jumps down from his arms. I watch in shock as the man falls to his knees, and then collapses. I race over to the fallen man to see if I can help him. I shake his arm gently."What's wrong with you sir? Are you alright? Please sir, you've got to try and stay awake! You can't give up! You've got to keep fighting! Old man, Can you hear Me?" I find myself yelling and pleading at this man to stay alive. I don't want to see him die...not like this.
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I am sitting next to the old man's bedside, as a doctor gives him an injection of some kind. The old man is fighting to breathe, and looks very ill. Suddenly, Prince Myshkin jumps from the table he had been sitting on to a shelf on the wall. He looks down at me. The sudden movement of the kitten makes me look up in shock. I then turn my attention back to the doctor and old man.
"He has been pushing himself for far too long. Over and over, I warned the old fool. But he just wouldn't give any thought to his health. Always, he would just kept working for others. I'm afraid there's nothing more I can do for him. He doesn't have long left to live." the doctor informed me grimly, as he left the old man's home.
I look over sadly at the old man. He is sleeping now. I feel sad because he is going to die soon. He will no longer be able to feed the hungry anymore.
Suddenly, Prince Myshkin jumps down from the high shelf he was on. When he jumps down, he knocks over a picture. I go to pick the picture up off the floor. It is a picture of a black cat and moon against a purple background. The frame has come loose, and I notice another picture behind it. I pull the picture out and look at it. It looks like a family picture- with a mother and father with two small children. I turn it over and read the words that someone has written on the back. "Balkutsk- Year of our Lord, 1951." I read aloud.
Then I hear a knock on the door. I quickly hide the picture in my coat pocket, as I go and open the man's door.
I am surprised to see a large group of villagers. I force myself to give a small smile as I let them in. They immediately surround the bedside of the old man.
One old lady comes up to me.
"Dr. Svenson told us that you saved this man's life. We owe him so much, and now thanks to you..." the woman begins, than breaks down in tears.
She reaches out and grabs hold of my hand. I am shocked and feel uncomfortable at this contact. I guess I am not used to being touched. The woman kisses my hand.
"Bless you, God Bless you for saving him." she cries to me.
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I walk back to the room where I am staying during this mission. I keep thinking about the old man fighting to breathe...and about the odd sensation of the woman grabbing and kissing my hand in thanks. Why would anyone want to touch me? The woman thanked me for saving him...but I was supposed to kill him...not save him. I don't want to kill him...but a job is a job. I felt so confused..this mission seemed harder than the others so far. I don't know why I felt this way...I just felt sorry for the man.
I hear something behind me and turn to see that Prince Myshkin has followed me. Maybe he knows that his owner is dying, and he will soon be without a home.
I turn away from the kitten. The man is dying anyway. If I shoot him it will be quick..unlike the slow death like he is facing. But I don't want to do this...
I clench my fists. "This is my only chance. If I don't do it now, I won't do it ever!" I tell myself, firmly.
I hurry back to the old man's home before I change my mind.
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I jump down from the roof, and creep slowly underneath the old man's window. I pull out my double mirror, and bring it up at a angle so I can get an idea where he is, and what he is doing before I shoot.
As I get a fix on his position, I see he is sitting up in bed with two small children visiting. I pull out my gun, and stand up and I take aim at him through the window. My finger is on the trigger and I'm ready to shoot, but for some reason I can't. I find I don't want to kill the man with those two small children present. Besides, I think he is waiting for something before he dies...
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Mireille is studying the picture that I found in the old man's house.
"Hmm..It's got to be a family picture, right? And from the looks of it, this boy is Nazarov. That's about the right age he'd have been in 1951. Balkutsk, huh? Sounds like a place!" Mireille replies, as she turns to her laptop, and begins typing.
"On the other hand, I've got one more clue about you now." She informs me.
I am sitting on the edge of the bed. I look towards her as she tells me this. "Huh?" I ask, wondering what she might have found out.
"You may know the underworld, excel in assassination techniques, and speak dozens of languages. But you have no knowledge of Russian literature." Mireille responds.
"Russian literature?" I asked, feeling confused on what this had to do with anything.
"Prince Myskin happens to be the protagonist of Dostoevsky's "The Idiot". He's the embodiment of a pure and innocent soul." she says.
I look away from her. "A pure and innocent soul..." I say softly. It is something I'll never be...even if I remember who I am..I believe that I was tainted from a very young age...
"That's odd, I can't find a place called Balkutsk anywhere." Mireille tells me in a confused voice.
I look at the floor. "I see." I tell her, softly.
Mireille turns to me with a firm look and crosses her arms.
"You DO know that it doesn't matter what kind of person Nazarov turns out to be, right?" she tells me harshly.
I nod. "Uh-hm"
"Nazarov is a fool. No matter how kind he's been to the poor, it doesn't change things. It may help his own conscience, but even the ones he's helped..."
I cut Mireille off. "I Know that!" I tell her, in the loudest voice I have ever spoken to her with. "And I think that Nazarov know it as well. But there's nothing he can do. I think he's just waiting for the snow to fall."
"Snow?" Mireille asked, curiously.
I look at the window at the snow that has started to come down.
"Yes, until enough has accumulated." I tell her, softly.
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Mireille is still doing research, as I sit near her waiting for our next move.
"Balkutsk was the home of a people called the Norga. During Stalin's era, the Norga's enemies- the Tashkil's, raided and destroyed it's village. Now not even it's name remains." Mireille tells me this information.
"So Nazarov is a Norga?" I asked.
Mireille turns to me and crosses her arms and legs.
"It seems that after all this time, the last few remaining Norga and Tashkil are still set on killing each other. The years continue to pass, and the blood continues to flow." she tells me, then she turns around and leans back over her laptop.
"It's gone on for so long now that there's no way left to tell how it all began. What was the cause and what was the effect? So many month's and years have passed since the massacre at the concentration camp. I can't even imagine what's been going through his mind." Mireille replies.
Then Mireille turns and looks at me. "So then, where to now? Do the job and be left with a bad aftertaste or...Or since he's dying from a terminal illness anyway..."
"I'll do it. It's our job." I tell Mireille firmly, as I stand up. I notice that my partner looks at me in shock and gives a little gasp. I wonder if it's because I am so determined to carry out this job.
I rather him have a quick death than a slow one from a terminal illness. I just feel that if he is going to die no matter what, then I would make it as painless as possible for him. He's been through enough pain..
"I'll kill him." I say softly.
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Mireille and I walk through the falling snow to Yuri Nazarov's house. Mireille walks ahead of me as usual. She always likes to be in the lead.
As Mireille waits outside, I open the door to the house. Prince Myshkin looks up as I open the door and walk in. Nazarov is lying in his bed, and he looks up at me wearily. I pull out my gun and aim it at him. I feel the same detached coldness settle over me that I feel every time I kill. He looks at me in shock, and then the resignation sets in, and he closes his eyes.
I can feel the coldness inside of me falter for a second, as I realize how brave this man is in facing his impending death. I give a soft gasp, and it almost makes me think of someone else who faced death bravely...but I don't remember who I could be thinking of. I bow my head and close my eyes, and remember the family picture of Nazarov's. I open my eyes to see Prince Myshkin looking at me. I look away.
Then I calmly shoot Nazarov. Prince Myshkin runs away at the sound. Mireille opens the door and looks at me .
I turn away and face the wall. At least he won't suffer anymore...but I feel something...I feel that same weird feeling again that I can't describe...I think of Prince Myshkin. He had a name and a home...I just took that away from him...just like I took away Rosalie Hammond's father from her...
I am a monster...I just know I am...I'm sorry..kitten...you will end up like me after all...no way to remember what you are called...and no home to go to anymore.
I'm sorry.
Chapter 5 - "The Black Thread of Fate" ep.7
A/n- I hope this was enjoyable. Please let me know if you like this retelling of Kirika's or not. I just want these to be interesting. Please review- you have no idea how much your reviews help me to keep on going and stay inspired. If you feel I have missed a key element of the story or have any hints I missed let me know.
Altena did make an appearance in this episode- but she was not in Kirika's view so I could not write her. But It was one of the first main Altena appearances- and was very interesting. If you have seen this episode of Noir- she seems to know exactly what Kirika and Mireille are doing. When Kirika shoots Nazarov – it shows Altena throwing her head back in ecstasy. I may do a Altena view, but I'm not sure.
I want to thank everybody who has been reviewing my Noir stories! I want to give a shout out to my annon. reviewers since I can't send you a reply by email. Haru-chan- You have been reading my stuff faithfully and have really encouraged me:) so I want to give you a big Thank you! (And Time out from the world we knew chapter 8) is being worked on and I hope to have it soon(hopefully it will be better than chapter 7- hair apt! yikes:)