Author's Note:
As you can tell, I'm reaching the climax of my little tale here, so you know there's going to be tragic events unfolding. I mean really tragic. Please don't read if you're sensitive and will be emotional distraught by death, destruction, and tragedy. After all, I did say this would be a tragic story of love lost and found.
Chapter 25: Regrets are made for Lovers
The full moon hovered low, illuminating the city with an incandescent glow. Standing alone on the roof of the Hyatt was Koalla Su, sipping ice sake. She was pleased with herself. The incident with Sarah had been an unexpected variable, but the fallout had been minimal. Naru's indiscretion had been predictable. Of course, she was uncertain if Keitaro would take the bait.
Su smiled at the irony of the situation. If it were not for Motoko's near death and premature delivery, Keitaro would never have fallen victim to her plot. He would have found the strength to resist Naru's charm.
Irony and vengeance made for some strange bedfellows.
But her appreciation was interrupted by a voice: "Die Demon Bitch!".
Su sense the attack coming and dodged the downward slash of the scimitar. The curved blade came crashing down with such force that it shattered the concrete roof below. Su managed to maintain her balance as she readied herself for the next blow. This time, several imposing spears hurled through the air, but caught nothing but emptiness. Su leapt into air with the deftness befitting a warrior of the Momolian Royal bloodlines.
Reaching deep into her blouse, Su pulled out several round objects, decorated with the sigil of the Momolian Royal House, and threw them in the direction of her attacker. The roof exploded in a brilliant flash. Brushing off dust from her shoulders, Su rose from the devastation and walked to the crater left behind by the grenades.
In the center of the blast radius laid a young woman. Her black jumpsuit was shredded by the shrapnel, revealing scorched and bloodied flesh. The assailant had long, white hair, which was similar to her own. Su took a moment to closely inspect her would-be assassin and instantly recognized the face.
"Hello sister dear, I see that you have become rather murderous in your old age," Su chuckled. Amalla felt the pain coursing through her body in waves. She was suffering from multiple lacerations and burns, but Amalla would not show her enemy weakness. Slowly, she raised her head to meet Su's gaze.
"Damn you vile demon, I will exact my revenge," Amalla said with clenched teeth. Then marshalling her strength, she stood up to face her opponent. Su watched Amalla with bemusement, like a cat amused by the actions of a mouse. With an eerily cheerful voice that would strike fear in the hearts' of any rational person, Su asked, "Why exact your vengeance on me dear sister?"
Amalla's expression grimaced with violent rage. Picking up her shattered scimitar, Amalla limped her way towards Su. "You are not my sister," she seethed, "I don't know who you are, but you are not Koalla!"
"I'm hurt sister, how could you say such a thing," Su replied, pouting her lips. Amalla swung wildly with her sword, but Su easily dodged the haphazard attacks. With blinding speed, Su appeared next to her sister, startling her. Amalla attempted to redirect her slash, but Su caught hold of her arm and snapped the bone with a twist of her wrist. Amalla bellowed in pain. Panic began setting in. "I can't die," she screamed in her mind.
Koalla felt a rush seeing her sister writhe in excruciating pain, but Amalla wasn't ready to lay down her sword. Fighting back the pain, she struck again, this time with her left arm. The attack went wide. Koalla ducked it easily and lay into Amalla's side with a bone breaking side kick. "I grow weary of this," Su whined as Amalla's ribs splintered from the force of her kick.
Amalla collapsed onto the floor, trying to hold in place her shattered ribs. The world began to swirl in brilliant light for the young Amazon. Her years of military training did not prepare her for the world of pain that she had entered. Tears began to cascade down her face, embarrassing the proud warrior. It was the whistling that brought Amalla out of her disoriented state. Anger exploded within her, masking the pain. She focused on her mission.
"Where's my sister?" Amalla wheezed out, struggling to stay conscious. Su, at first, ignored the broken woman before her and kept whistling her infantile melody. "Don't you ignore me you bitch!" Amalla shouted, seething in rage. Su turned to face her in response. The pleasant demeanor that Koalla had donned drained away, leaving behind a cold veneer that could freeze rivers.
"I killed her," Koalla replied, her voice devoid of any emotions. Amalla felt the rage overcome her; she charged. Koalla quickly side stepped the attack, grabbing her arm, and twisting it behind her back. "I'll kill you," she screamed, struggling against Koalla's iron grip. Using her free arm, Koalla grasped Amalla's throat and began constricting slowly.
Amalla tried to fight, but felt her strength ebbing. Though the older sister stood a full three inches taller, Koalla hovered above her, like death on a pale horse. Whispering into her ear, Koalla spoke, "Your sister stole Keitaro from me. She deserved the death I delivered to her."
Amalla wanted to strike out, but she had no power left. Before exhaustion could claim her voice, Amalla croaked, "Who are you?" Su sighed, breathing hot humid air down Amalla's neck. "I am afraid that you will die as you have lived - ignorant," Su answered back. Then Su closed her fingers around Amalla's throat, closing of her air. "No," Amalla managed to sputter before her throat was crushed under the intense force of Koalla's grip.
Amalla felt her body struggling for air, the desperation nearly driving her insane. Steadily, her body grew numb. Su felt Amalla's body quiver and convulse as it began dying from asphyxiation. When she felt the life gone from Amalla's body, Su released her, letting the corpse drop to the ground. "Oh my god, what have you done?" a voice squeaked out from behind.
"Dammit, another complication," Su chided herself. From the sound of the voice, she knew who was standing behind her. Su turned around, while drawing her revolver from her jacket. Shinobu stood frozen, her eyes wide with fear. She had just seen her best friend commit murder and now she was pointing a gun at her.
"What are you doing?" Shinobu begged her friend to answer. Without any further words, Su raised her weapon to align the sights. Her training kicking in, Shinobu dodge the first two bullets as they rifled past her. Her mind was racing to find an explanation to the nightmare that she had just encountered. She had come to the roof to find her friend – to talk about Naru and Keitaro. Now she was fighting for her life. Four more shots were fired. Shinobu evaded the bullets by leaping into the air, performing acrobatic feats that would be the envy of any gymnast or ninjua.
"Curses, I trained her well," Su grimaced, unloading her weapon but hitting nothing. Shinobu landed a few feet from Su and kicked away the gun from her hand. Su was about to leap backwards, but Shinobu managed to pull a hidden blade from her boot to the princess's throat. Breathing hard, Shinobu glared into her friend's eyes and demanded to know why she had just attacked her.
Su simply replied with an obnoxious grin. "Goddamn you Su, what's gotten into you?" Shinobu screamed. "Have you forgotten your training already?" Su asked whimsically. Something in her mannerism seemed familiar to Shinobu. It only took a moment before a flash of recognition struck her. "My god, could it be?" Shinobu asked herself. She stood there, knife in hand, confused by the thoughts that she was entertaining. She looked like Su, talked like her, and even ate like her. But before Shinobu could complete her thought, Su spoke out, "You were always my brightest student."
"It can't be," Shinobu gasped, "Kanako?" The smile left Su's face. She returned Shinobu's stare with an intensity that could rival the noonday sun. "But you forgot the first lesson of the Urashima School. Press the attack, never relent, lest you give yourself to the enemy," she added. Shinobu felt an explosion of pain in her midsection as the sound of gunfire filled her ears. She staggered backwards, clutching her belly. She could feel the warm liquid gushing from her wound.
Shinobu watched in astonishment as her friend approached her, the gun in her hand still smoking. "I am truly sorry for this Shinobu. Please believe me that you were never meant to get involved, but I cannot allow you to interfere," Su said earnestly. Shinobu forced back the panic, trying to keep her head clear. Looking behind, she realized that she was only a few feet from the edge. She turned her gaze back to Su. She screamed, "Why Kanako?"
Su took a free hand and reached for her neck. Pinching the skin, she began pulling it off. The skin, stretching unnaturally, began to give. With a quick sweep of her arm, she peeled off the mask that had hid her face from the world.
Underneath the disguise was the pale smooth skin of Kanako Urashima. Shinobu could not believe what she was seeing. But she had no time to reflect. Kanako raised the gun and pulled the trigger. The bullet rifled through Shinobu's shoulder, driving her back. Before she could scream in pain, Shinobu stumbled over the railing, plummeting to the unforgiving concrete below.
Kanako, wiping away the errant tear that had escaped her left eye, walked towards the entrance to the roof. Giving a final glance back to the spot where her friend had fallen, Kanako offered a final condolence, "I am sorry Shinobu." With that, she left the roof.
The clock read three in the morning. The day had been long and demanding, but Keitaro couldn't sleep. The couch was comfortable enough, and Naru's warm body pressing down on him was a whole world of pleasures that he loved indulging in, but the gravity of his sin weighed heavily on him.
They spent hours on the couch, tearing up the upholstery, living a life that was not theirs to begin with. Keitaro had always loved her. She was beautiful and kind. She was smart and fun to be with. All the reasons that made her a great friend also made her a great lover. But for Keitaro, passion alone could not describe his love her for her. To him, they were kindred spirits reuniting in life.
And though he was happy to be with her again, Keitaro Urashima was feeling burdened by his guilt. Miles away, his wife and child lay near death in a cold and sterile hospital room and he was home, in bed with another woman.
And then there were the murders in the hospital to consider. Keitaro didn't know why his mind kept coming back to the murders. Was it a morbid curiosity? He knew the nurse and only met the doctor in passing. The third victim, a young girl with blonde hair was a stranger to him. The nurse called her Jane. Keitaro rummaged through his memories, trying to remember if he knew anyone by that name. None came to mind.
His silent contemplation was interrupted by the sensation of Naru's hair rustling across his chest. Golden waves came to view, shimmering in the moonlight. Keitaro began strumming her hair. In response, Naru began to purr in agreement. Stirring to life, she looked up and saw Keitaro watching from above.
It hadn't been a dream.
Thoughts of her husband still lingered in the backdrop of her mind, but Keitaro was there with her. She would weigh the consequences of her actions in the morning, but for now, she would pretend that the man beneath her was her husband. "I love you," she whispered, giving her the most angelic of smiles.
Keitaro wanted to weep. He felt happy to be with her, but his guilt could not be denied. Still, he had a smile for his promise girl and gave it to her freely. He would wait until the morning before he dealt with the consequences of his actions. The night would belong to them.
Naru lifted herself up to meet his gaze. No words were exchanged. The fear of waking from the dream was too great for them. She leaned over and gently pressed her lips against his, allowing the love that she held in her heart to flow through.
Keitaro jumped, nearly throwing Naru off of him, at the high pitch rail of her cell phone. Naru was tempted to let the phone ring, but she recognized the ring tone. She had given each of her friends a unique ring. It was Shinobu. "I'm sorry Keikun, but Shinobu wouldn't be calling me unless it's really important," Naru said apologetically as she reached for her phone.
Still amazed at how splendid Naru's nude form looked, Keitaro was too distracted to see the changing expression on her face. "Oh God Shinobu, what's happened?" she cried out. Keitaro's heart sunk as he heard the pain in her voice.
"Help me Naru, please, I need help," Shinobu whimpered into her cell.