Chapter 4

The process of cooking was never a clean one. In fact, to cook without making a mess, was impossible. After all considering that in order to make a meal, one must use dishes, therefore creating a mess. Well a mess was certainly what a certain blonde had created. Three cutting boards littered the counter, only one actually served a purpose, the other two seemed merely to serve as decorations. Carrot peels lay sprawled about the floor surrounding a small trash can. Judging from the contents of peels inside compared to out; it would seem that most had found their home on the cold tile. In the kitchen of the Yuumura/Bouquet residence, it appeared as if World War III had struck, sparing no mercy.

Amidst all this stood a lone figure. Blonde tresses matted to her forehead as a thin layer of sweat had broken out. True, cooking was never something that had caused her to break a sweat before, but today, everything just seemed much more of a chore then usual. In fact it had taken Mireille the better part of an hour to prepare such a simple dish: stir-fry consisting of chicken, carrots, broccoli, and several other ingredients. Truly a simple task as it never took Mireille more then half an hour to cook and even clean up after the simplistic dish. Luckily, regardless of her prior evenings brawl, Kirika was running late. Perhaps Mireille would be lucky enough not to have to explain the current state of their kitchen. However, just as she finished setting the table, Mireille's luck appeared lacking as the all too familiar sound of a key opening the front door echoed through the silent space. The sound was deafening as everything seemed to run in slow motion. The turning of the lock. The creaking of the door hinges. If only she could stop time, if just for one minute. Anything to stop the girl on the other side from entering.

Red and blue lights flashed atop white cars. As Kirika managed to push her way through the unusually large crowd, the sight that greeted her was not very pleasant. Several cars lay sprawled about the intersection, all in shambles and disarray. It seems that the traffic lights had not been working that afternoon, and one vehicle being in such a rush, had not even noticed, driving right into the intersection, hitting a small car, which then hit another in a domino like effect. Emergency medical workers had arrived and were attending to the wounded, however nothing seemed too serious. However, this accident caused Kirika a small problem. The police had closed off the area to both vehicles and pedestrians, meaning Kirika had to find an alternative route back to the apartment. Although it didn't bother her, Kirika knew that last nights fight had been because of her tendencies of being late. Therefore, being late this day wasn't exactly the smartest thing. However, this was something out completely out of her hands, it wasn't like she was the one who drove the car through the intersection and hit oncoming traffic, right? Mireille will understand… I hope.

The extra ten minutes that it took seemed like a lifetime. Whichever direction the youth had chosen seemed to have led to a dead end. If it wasn't for the help of an elderly woman out for a walk, Kirika may have never found her way back to the apartment. Now standing before the door to the Yuumura/Bouquet residence, key hovering just above the lock, a small crashing sound followed by some strain of incoherent words, most likely cursing caused a chuckle to escape her soft pink lips. For some reason, all the young girl could picture was Mireille sitting amidst piles of dishware, all covered in flour. True it was a strange thought, and the chances of that being the actual case were next to none, however it was never said one couldn't wish to think, right?

After several minutes of listening in, Kirika decided it was time to actually enter the apartment. A glance down at the bouquet of flowers in her left hand, the young girl felt a reassuring push. Inserting the key into the lock, flowers hidden as best they could be behind her back, Kirika took a deep breath, twisting the knob and gently calling out, "Mireille?"

Frozen, Mireille couldn't respond as the young woman in the doorway called her name. Behind her stood the mess of the kitchen and in front of her stood the woman who she loved, however at the moment letting Kirika see the disaster of a kitchen was out of the question.

The lack of response and piercing stare made Kirika nervous. Perhaps she should just leave the flowers at the door and retreat back to some other place. It was apparent that Mireille was still avoiding her and she should just respect the older woman's space. Well whatever she decided she should decided quickly, as the blonde's piercing stare seemed to grow more and more intense with each passing moment.

Why would her lips not move, her body defying every demand she made! Damn it Mireille. You've hurt her again. Can you not see it, it's written all over her face! Move damn it, move! After what seemed like eons, Mireille's lips finally fell under her control although they trembled at first, they were still able to form somewhat coherent words. "K… K… Kirika." Came her stuttered response. The sudden change in expression upon the younger girl's face caused Mireille to mentally slap herself. Baka, why couldn't you just say welcome home or it's good to see you?! Instead you make it seem as if she is unwelcome. Baka, baka, baka!

Mireille's response had stung the youth a tad; however the blonde's current face seemed to betray an internal battle. This intrigued Kirika, even causing her to step within the entrance and daring a few steps towards Mireille. Well she seemed preoccupied enough with her thoughts. Excellent! Kirika mentally screamed at herself. Now all I need to do is drop the flowers off and run out the door before she even notices. As silently as one could imagine, Kirika crept across the living room, flowers grasped lightly behind her back.

Although consumed by her mental cursing, Mireille couldn't help but notice the encroaching figure out of the corner of her eye. Being an assassin for so many years didn't just disappear, no matter how hard you may want it too. However the sight that came towards her… Mireille couldn't help but giggle softly at how ridiculous her Kirika appeared. She was crouched low, shoes and school bag both still on, and what was this? As best as the young girl tried to hide the large parcel behind her, Kirika just was not big enough as it clearly stuck out. Turning ever so slightly, Mireille positioned herself to face the approaching figure. To her surprise Kirika didn't seem to notice the blonde's movement, completely engrossed in something else.

Inch by inch, Kirika drew closer to her target: the nearby table. Alright, a quick drop and run, nothing too hard. Unbeknown to her however, she had already been discovered. A pair of crystal blue eyes now watched her every movement with precision. Finally with the table in reach, the young girl lifted the bouquet from behind her, bringing it up to set it on the table when suddenly she felt it. The feeling of another's gaze upon her. Uh oh… Hesitantly Kirika drew her gaze up, crimson eyes meeting with crystal blue. Mireille… Cheeks now flush, Kirika tried to back up, ending with her tripping over the small rug, landing flat on her bottom, "M… Mireille! Ah, gomen. I was just… you seemed busy…" Nervously shifting her gaze about, Kirika searched for something, anything but the blessed angel before her. With a sudden burst of energy, Kirika almost shoved the flowers at Mireille, "Th… these are for you!" She stammered bowing her head low to further delay any possible eye contact.

Stunned Mireille accepted the package. Words couldn't formulate in Mireille's mind and much less her mouth. So instead she stood still, mouth hanging slightly a jar.

The silence killed her. Mireille's expression most certainly wasn't what Kirika had envisioned when she had bought the flowers. Wait what had she expected? That Mireille would just up and forgive her, the two of them acting as if nothing had ever happened? Whatever it was, this was not it. Drawing back, Kirika bowed low, hiding the red hue that now plastered her cheeks. "G… Gomen Mireille, I am really sorry about yesterday. Sometimes I get caught in the memories of the past and it just… just…" Ruffling her hair, Kirika seemed rather frustrated, "Gah, well anyways, I am so sorry and I hope you will like these flowers. I'll take my leave now…" Slowly Kirika began backing away, regretting not just leaving the flowers at the door and retreating while she had the chance.

Flowers? Kirika bought flowers for me? Aww, that is so sweet of her… As if someone had simply been cuffed her across the face, Mireille stood there motionless, Wait did she just say leave? Kirika is going to leave?! Mireille do something! Stop her! It took everything within her simply to move her body. At first it was only the minutest of movements, however before she knew it, Mireille was running full speed towards the receding girl. Kirika please, please look up. Look up! As if she had heard the older woman's request, the young girl took one more glance at the other woman, "Kirika!"

Something inside of her initiated the young girl to look up. To her surprise Mireille had called her name. It was not out of anger that she had called it. No, it was something different, something else. The image seemed to play in slow motion as the blonde ran towards her, arms wide open. Kirika didn't understand just what had taken place until both her and Mireille had fallen to the ground; warm streams of tears soaking the front of her school blouse and the feeling of Mireille so close to her.

It didn't matter what she said or what she might not say. All that Mireille knew at the moment was the feeling of warmth beneath her. The comforting gaze that she had missed oh so dearly. Without her consent, salty tears flowed from her eyes, drenching the front of Kirika's school shirt. They didn't need words, not between them. With everything the two women had been through together, words were the last thing they needed.

Although she knew Mireille's sobs were not those of sorrow, Kirika couldn't help but attempt to soothe the woman atop her. Drawing her arms up and about her, Kirika pulled Mireille closer, the warmth between them feeling like heaven. "Shhh Mireille, it's alright."

Kirika's words were so comforting, the embrace they shared; everything just felt so right. Between sobs the woman choked out, "I know… I just… just…"

Pressing her index finger firmly against Mireille's rosy lips, Kirika silenced the blonde before she could continue, "You don't need to explain." From between them a deep growl erupted, causing both of the women to laugh at the sudden loss of seriousness in the situation, "Err…. Shall we eat supper? I'm starving," offered the ex-assassin.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," replied Mireille, wiping away the few stray tears that remained upon her rosy cheeks. Together the two got to their feet, making their way to the table where the young school girl caught a full on view of the disastrous kitchen. Wide eyes, Kirika turned to the woman beside her.

"Mireille, what happened to our kitchen?"

A deep red tone flushed through her cheeks as the blonde viewed the current state of the kitchen as well as the look of shock on her partner's face, "Uh… well… you see…"

Smiling softly Kirika squeezed Mireille's hand reassuringly, "How about we discuss it over dinner?"

"Mhm," nodded the other, firmly squeezing Kirika's hand in response.

As the two seated themselves at the table, the blonde couldn't help but reach over, picking up the fallen package of unopened flowers. Carefully peeling back the top wrap Mireille peered in, her smile widening, "Kirika," A giggle escaped her lips, "You sure remember some of the strangest things."

Author Note: Edited as of September 20th, 2007

Sorry everyone for the slow pace I am working at. School is driving me nuts, with the lack of competence in our Administrative staff. And although I do have two spares this semester, I have been busy with other things. However, I have written up most of the next chapter, so it should be up and edited Crosses fingers in the next two days if all goes well.

Please, review, as it gives me motivation to continue writing, as well as I love to hear the impute of my readers as I am most certainly a numbers person and not a word person.

Translations:

Baka: Idiot

Gomen: Sorry

These are two of my most favourite and overly used Japanese words, so don't be surprised if you see them pop up often.