Disclaimer: I do not own Noir. Noir belongs to Ryoe Tsukimura and Beetrain, ect. This story is rated T. This is from Kirika's Pov. This spoils episode 13 of series.
Memory Fails Me
Chapter 8 – 'Season of Hell'
I couldn't help but notice him as I walked through the park. I was on my way back from shopping, my brown bag nestled in my arms. The man was sitting on the grass, near the water and he was painting a picture.
I had a sudden urge to see his work, so I slowly walked up behind him and peered over his shoulder. It was beautiful...
"You're very good." I told him softly.
He looked up at me. "That's not true." he replied modestly, as he looked down at his painting.
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The next day-
Mireille was looking at necklaces that were displayed for sale along the sidewalk. I stood behind her patiently, I was used to this by now. My partner could never resist a chance to shop. I realized that it was one of her favorite activities, next to her fondness for a good cup of tea.
"Hmm, this one's nice!" she exclaimed, then she looked over at another one. "Oh, but this one's nice too! Decisions, decisions." she said, unable to make up her mind as she looked back and forth.
I sighed to myself. I turned away from my partner and noticed the window of the art supply store. I thought about the man who was painting at the park yesterday.
Suddenly, I decided that I wanted to try to create something of my own. I wanted to see if I could make something beautiful instead of ugliness and death.
I walked over to the store window and looked at the selection of sketchbooks, paints and canvases that were displayed. A sketchbook is what I needed...
I felt my partner come up behind me. She looked in the window of the art store, then stared over at me. "What is it?" she asked me curiously.
I just looked over at the sketchbooks, not knowing how to ask her for one...
"A sketchbook, huh?" Mireille asked, as she followed my gaze. "You mean, that you want one?"
I looked up at her and nodded shyly. "Mm hm" I agreed, then I turned to face the window of the store again. I wondered what she'd say to me...
"For sketching, right?" she asked, giving me a sidelong glance.
(I wondered what else she thought I would do with it?) "Uh Hm" I responded, as I nodded my head in affirmation.
Mireille put her hand on her hip and looked at me. "Well, I suppose it is time you took up a hobby like everyone else. So if you want it, let's hurry up and get it." she told me cheerfully, as she turned to go inside the art store to pay.
I felt relief at her words. She was going to buy me something I wanted so that I could have a hobby! Everyone had a hobby, didn't they? If I had one...
I'd be like everyone else.
If I have a hobby, I would be a normal girl, right?
I'd have a hobby that was not about killing or death. It would be something that I chose for myself.
Then I wouldn't be just a killer or a monster anymore. Would I?
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I walked to the park with my new sketchbook, brush and paints. I found a nice spot near the water and settled down on the green grass. I rested my sketchbook against my knees as I stared out at the blue water. I wondered if I could capture the beauty of what was before me.
It was nice to be able to see past the darkness for once. The water sparkled as the sun glinted off of it. In that moment, I decided that was the image I wanted to capture in my painting.
"Hello"
I looked up and noticed the man that I saw yesterday was back. His hair was brown, he was tall and wearing a blue shirt, pants and a long khaki trench coat. His face was kind...
I looked up at him in surprise. I hurried and pulled myself up from the grass and stood up.
"Oh, I'm sorry! Uh, I mean, I guess I'm in your spot." I told him shyly.
He looked at me in confusion. "My spot?" he asked.
I nodded in embarrassment. "Uh-huh"
"I don't believe this spot belongs to anyone." he replied, then he turned and began to walk close to the water's edge.
He turned to look back at me. "Now, if you want to draw here, you're certainly welcome." he told me softly.
A gentle wind began to blow as we stood there.
"What a great breeze, isn't it a gorgeous day?" he asked, before settling down in the grass with his art supplies. "Uh huh" I agreed, as the wind blew against my hair and jacket.
"In any case, don't let me bother you!" he replied, as he began to paint.
"Sure." I responded softly.
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I sat near him in the grass as we painted. I had my sketchbook resting against my knees as I dipped my paintbrush in the blue paint, then I began to apply the paint on the paper.
The man looked over at me. "Uh, hey, you're starting with a brush first?" he asked.
(Was I doing something wrong? Is this not how you are supposed to paint? )
I turned and looked at him curiously. "Huh?" I asked.
"I mean, most people sketch it out beforehand." he explained softly.
I looked down at my painting on my lap. "Is that how it's done?" I asked curiously.
The man smiled at me and waved his paintbrush in the air. "Well, don't mind me. I'm sure it will be alright. They say the best way is the way that you want it." he reassured me cheerfully.
He was being so kind to me. He seemed to care about what I was doing. I just met him but he made me feel different. He acted just like I was just a regular girl with a hobby.
I looked at him and smiled. "Okay" I responded.
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We were still sitting on the grass painting as dusk approached. I felt as though I could sit here all day and night and just keep painting. I didn't want to stop because I felt at peace somehow.
"Well, the sun is starting to set. Time for me to call it quits." the man told me as he gathered up his things and stood up. He turned and looked at me. "So you're going to keep at it?" he asked me gently.
I looked down at my painting. It was almost finished, and I was still holding my paintbrush against it in mid stroke. I put my paintbrush down.
"Uh, Your painting is very distinctive." he replied.
I stared at my painting closely. "It's distinctive?" I asked softly.
"I'm not very good myself, but that's really something unique." he told me with admiration in his voice.
He liked my painting? He thought it was distinctive? Did I create something beautiful to him? Out of all my darkness...could I really create beauty? Did I? I'm not just a killer then, am I? Is there beauty inside me beneath all the darkness?
I looked at my painting again..
"Look, don't mind me, I'm just talking. What's best is to please yourself." he reassured me.
Once again, I looked at him and gave him a smile. "Okay" I reply.
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We stand in front of the closed art store after leaving the park together.
"If you ever need any supplies, this is the best place. The quality is good and the prices are reasonable." he informs me.
"Thank you. I'll do that." I replied gratefully as I looked up at him.
He turned and looked into the store window. "Ah, sold out again!" he sighed in disappointment. I turned to find out what he was staring at.
"The owner of this shop makes those tiles himself. Everyone wants one but he refuses to print more than limited runs. So stubborn!" he replied.
I stared at the window thoughtfully. Those tiles meant a lot to him...
"Later, okay?" the man replied, as he turned around and walked down the street.
I just watched him go. I found myself hoping I would see him again soon.
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The next day-
I am sitting in the park staring out at the water when suddenly a leaf fell in front of me. Then another was hanging in front of my eyes.
"Huh?" I wondered, as I looked up in surprise. I smiled as I realized it is the man who has been painting with me. He sat down next to me in the grass.
"There we go." he said softly.
He pulled out his supplies and we began to paint. I felt so comfortable with him as I realized that he treated me like a normal girl. He didn't want answers from me- like Mireille did, and he didn't want to kill me- like the Soldats did.
I felt so content just painting beside him...
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Later that evening-
Mireille and I were sitting opposite each other as we ate dinner at the table. I took a few bites of my soup as my partner stirred her spoon around in her teacup.
Suddenly, I could feel her stare over at me.
"So do you see him often?" she asked lightly.
I paused in my eating and looked over at her. "Huh?" I asked.
Mireille looked at me unhappily. "That man you were painting with. What's his name?" she asked, still stirring her tea.
"I don't know." I admitted softly, as I looked down.
We had never told each other our names. It didn't seem to matter anyway.
Mireille finally pulled her spoon out of her teacup and took a sip of tea. "Oh. Well, you shouldn't see him anymore." she warned me.
I looked over at her in surprise. I wondered why she was telling me to stay away from him. Why would she care if I painted with someone? He wasn't our enemy or a Soldat. She just didn't understand that I had found someone who treated me normally.
We ate the rest of our meal in silence.
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The next day-
I stopped to look in the window of the art store on my way to the park. I noticed that the tiles were still sold out. I turned and walked away, hoping they would come in soon..
As I walked to my usual spot in the park, I noticed the man resting underneath a tree. I walked over to where his jacket was lying and I pick it up off of the ground. As I do, something shiny with a ribbon fell out of the pocket. I tried to catch it before it hit the ground, then I looked at it carefully. It was a medal of some kind.
"Like it? It's your's. The legion gave me that. The foreign legion, that is, for distinguished service in Guiana." the man told me as he rested underneath the tree.
He sat up and looked over at me. "I'm Milosh Havel, I'm Czechoslovakian." then he looked away. "Of course, I've been away from there for so long, it's not the same place now."
He looked back at me. "What's your name?" he asked softly.
I looked at him in surprise. Suddenly, I remembered reaching into the pocket of my school uniform and pulling out my ID card...
"I'm..." I began.
Who was I?
I remembered opening the drawer and finding my Beretta. It was a weapon, just like me. How could a living weapon have an identity? I couldn't remember...
"My name?" I asked, as I looked down.
How could I tell him that I didn't know who I was? I didn't even know my name.
All I have is a fake name that no one calls me by...
Milosh looked over at me. "Hey, no stress. We all have things that we don't talk about. It's fine." he replied gently, as he stood up and stared out at the water.
"Half of the Foreign Legion is from Western Europe, you know. It's an ugly place for men who have deserted their countries or who's countries have deserted them. Yet, that's what I've been thinking about since I've been painting here, whether I should join up again." he informed me.
He looked back at me and sighed. "Sorry, I can't expect someone like you to know what my world is like, can I?" he replied to me sadly.
I looked down sadly and narrowed my eyes. I know he has done things in which he's not proud of, just like me. I know of the world in which he speaks...
"No, not really." I told him instead.
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That evening-
The restaurant is crowded tonight as Mireille and I have dinner. I sat with my hands in my lap as my partner took a sip of tea. She lowered her cup and looked over at me.
"You're still seeing that man, aren't you?" she asked me firmly.
I looked at her for a second, then I lowered my head and narrowed my eyes.
"Yes" I admitted. Why did she care if I had a friend? She was going to kill me anyway when she found out the answers she wanted. So why couldn't she let me enjoy the time I had left- just painting in the park with Milosh?
Mireille sighed heavily, her teacup in midair, as a cross look passed over her face. She put her cup down and lowered her eyes. I could tell she was very upset at me.
"I could have sworn that I told you not to see him anymore!" she reprimanded me.
I looked at her unhappily, as I put my hands around my teacup. "Why not?" I asked firmly.
She looked back at me crossly but didn't say anything. I stared at her waiting for her answer...
Suddenly, my partner pulled her mirrored compact out of her purse and looked into it. I realized that there is a man watching us that is sitting behind us.
"He's following us?" I asked Mireille quietly.
"Yes." she said, as she quickly put her compact away and we both stood up and left .
We left the restaurant and walked through the park. It is dark out and we knew we were being followed. My partner walked slightly ahead of me.
"Is he still back there?" she asked worriedly.
"Yes." I confirmed. We decided to split up to take out the men.
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I walked in the dark of the park with my gun by my side.
Now I was having to do the hobby that I never wanted for myself. Unfortunately, this was the thing I was best at, but who wanted to be a nameless thing like I was?
I felt no emotion as I easily took out the two gunman who were standing in front of the one of the waterfalls of the park. I hid underneath the stream of water as I ended their lives without a thought...
The large blonde hitman wore his hair in a ponytail and was looking about in shock as Mireille and I came up behind him. This man must be Christian Galle, the man who wanted revenge on my partner after she killed his boss, Morgan- two years ago.
My partner pointed her gun on him steadily. "The last time we met you survived by running away." she told him lightly.
He turned away and looked over to where I was standing. I held my gun on him calmly. He looked upset and spun back around to face my partner.
"You Bitch!" he exclaimed, the hate evident in his voice.
Mireille narrowed her eyes. "Bad news, looks like checkmate." she told him coldly.
Suddenly, a white car came speeding up, it's headlights illuminating the dark park. Mireille and I had to roll and jump out of it's path to avoid getting hit.
"C'mon, get in quick!" the man driving yelled to the blonde man, who dashed into the car as my partner opened fire on him. The car took off, making me jump out of the way again to avoid it's path. I stared at the retreating headlights as Mireille came up beside me. She sighed in frustration and looked at me for a second before staring ahead. I knew she was very unhappy.
If only I knew...maybe I could have stopped what was coming next...
If only I knew-
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The Next day-
Milosh was sitting in his usual spot painting as I walked over to him. He looked up at me and smiled. "Hey." he greeted me softly, as I sat down next to him.
"Hello again." I replied, as I put my sketchbook in my lap.
He looked at me for a second, before turning and looking ahead. "I've decided to reenlist. Shooting people, getting metals...I'd gotten so sick of it, but I can't seem to find anything else that I'm good at." he said to me somberly.
Then he looked back at me again. "I guess I should have known that, huh?" he asked.
I laid my painting against my knees as I lowered my eyes. It's funny that he feels the same way I do. I'm so sick of killing people myself...I thought that just having this hobby would turn me into a normal girl- but it's not what I was made for.
The only thing I was good at was killing...wasn't it?
Milosh looked over at my painting. "You're painting turned out well. It's quite bold and tasteful too, even if it's still a little clumsy." he told me with a smile.
Milosh liked my painting. I could create beauty as well as death...
I looked over at Milosh fondly. "Do you think so?" I asked him sweetly.
I looked back down at the painting I had created. It was a thing of beauty.
Then maybe I could be too...
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We stopped outside the art store after dusk. Milosh looked down at me softly. "I guess this is goodbye." he told me gently.
How long had it been since we met? Just a few days and now he was leaving. I wondered if I would ever feel that peace again, like I did when he had sat beside me painting and treating me like a real girl...
I looked up at him. "Uh huh" I replied softly.
"Even in Africa, I painted whenever I could. You should keep painting too." he suggested to me.
"I will." I promised him.
"Well then." he replied, as he raised his hand in goodbye, turned and walked down the street.
I watched him sadly. I felt like I will never have a friend like him again. I felt funny inside as I watched him walk away from me, knowing I'll never see him again..
I turned to walk away, then noticed as I glanced into the art store window that the tiles he wanted have come back in stock. He wanted them so much...
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I ran as fast as I could to catch up with Milosh. I wanted to give him these tiles as a going away present. I wanted to see his face one more time...
I see him down a side street and I almost collapse with relief. I would get to see him one last time.
"Mr. Milosh!" I yelled as I ran to him.
He looked over his shoulder at the sound of my voice calling his name. He looked pleased when he saw it was me...
I heard the squeal of brakes and noticed the expression on Milosh's face had turned to surprise.
I turned to look back over my shoulder and I realized with shock that the white car that Christian Galle had gotten away in last night was back and he was in the passenger side. He pulled out a semi- automatic weapon and began to shoot at me.
I dropped my art supplies and back flipped away from the barrage of bullets that are coming towards me. As I land, I pulled my beretta out and was ready to use it. The white car suddenly screeched off.
Milosh!
I turned and looked to where Milosh had been standing when the car had pulled up.
I cried out as I saw him lying crumpled in the street, his art supplies and sketchbook scattered around him.
NO! No. This couldn't be happening...
I ran over to his body and cradled his head in my arms. I felt like I could cry...
He groaned and struggled to open his eyes as I held him. I am still holding my gun in my hand...
"This gun.." he whispered to me.. He looked distressed, then a calm look passed over his face. "..No..it's okay. Please stop..." he whispered again.
Soon he was still...
No...
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A short time later-
Mireille is watching me as I put all of the art supplies into the river. Milosh's and my sketchbooks are both riddled with bullet holes. I even put the tiles into the river. If I had never brought them to him, he wouldn't have died. It's all my fault. Even when I tried to create beauty – death just followed me...
My partner came up behind me. "I know where Galle is hiding." she informed me in a weary voice.
I just stared out at the water. I think of all the dreams that died here today...
I wish I knew how to cry...
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Galle's Hideout-
I felt nothing as I walked into the hideout and opened the door and shot and killed the three men that were playing cards and drinking. I finished them and walked away...
My partner went after the blonde man who had killed Milosh, but as I get ready to go up the stairs he is coming down. He looked at me like I was not a threat. He just doesn't know...
I stared at him...I didn't feel the least bit sorrowful for what I was about to do...
I shot him with one clean shot.
That was for Milosh...
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I sat at the window of Mireille's apartment and stared out listlessly. I couldn't forget what his dying words to me were..
"This gun...Please stop."
He had told me to stop doing the only thing I was good at. Killing...
I tried to create beauty and it still became bullet ridden and a reminder of death...
I tried to pretend I was a normal girl with a hobby and a friend...
Both were gone. Nameless monsters don't have hobbies or friends. Did they?
Besides it was all my fault...
Mireille was watching me with her arms folded against her chest. She leaned against the black dividing wall and looked very upset.
"This is why I told you..." she began to tell me, then her voice broke. I heard her stomp off to the kitchen.
I just stared out of the window...I wished I could cry..but I couldn't.
Funny, but I swear I hear Mireille crying...
Chapter 9 – Cold Blooded killer Act 1
A/n- These are not intended to bore anyone and if they do or you don't like them, then please don't read or leave flames. Thank you:) I like to use random bolded text in places.
These seemed like a good idea at the time and I do want to try to finish what I started. This are written in the first person POV so only Kirika's view is shown here.
This episode was very difficult for me plus the fact that Milosh was just so damn nice. I really felt that Kirika and him bonded and I don't feel it was a romantic crush for either. I feel Mireille lost someone in a similar way and was trying to warn Kirika not to get involved so she wouldn't go through the pain.
Thank you to the people who take time to leave reviews! You know who you are and I thank you greatly! No flames please.