Story time! Lot of close calls in this one.

Killer

"Tell me again why I'm going?"

"Because Mikas is still in Cocoyashi and between the two of us your job is less important."

"I resent that."

"Resent it all you want, as long as you keep packing; they're waiting on you."

Rhia was doing most of the work, rummaging through his drawers and closet, selecting the garments he'd be most inclined to wear at Coral Hill. Her brother sat on his bed, eyes glazed over as if he were preparing to go back to sleep.

"Why does it have to be so early?" he groaned rhetorically, falling back onto his sheets. When it looked like he was about to shut his eyes, Rhia tossed his boots at him.

"Unless your plan is to go in your underwear, you might want to get dressed."

He grunted in reply, sitting back up slowly.

"So why all the special treatment?"

"What do you mean? Am I being too nice to you?"

"To the fishman."

Rhia paused, a wad of socks in one hand. She turned to frown at Reed, "He's not getting special treatment."

"I''m going all the way to the friggin' East Blue, for him. He hasn't even been placed in a level yet."

"He hasn't been sentenced, yet."

"So when is that gonna happen?"

She shrugged, moving the bag from his floor to the bed and cramming the socks inside. "Hannyabal said he wanted me to get him in level four. To do that, I have to give the sentencing committee good reason. After all, his bounty is only twenty-million."

"You're gonna make a case against him, even though he's helping you with that rat-bastard Nezumi?"

"I thought you didn't like him; why do you sound so offended?"

"It's not about him, it's about you. It just sounds kind of... two-faced."

"The man tried to kill me. I'm not very concerned about being two-faced," Rhia said with some degree of finality, entering the bathroom to take inventory of his hygienics. Reed fell into silence, but the air was not cleared.

When she re-entered to pack his toothbrush and razor, he wore a look of uneasiness.

"What is it, Reed? You never think this much."

It took him a while to answer. "Do you ever stop to wonder that maybe, even after all you've done and how right you thought you were, maybe you're wrong? Really, really wrong?"

"I don't get your meaning."

"Well, like..." he sighed, searching for words, "Like when you're at a restaurant, maybe. And you're in one of those moods where you know you're hungry, you just don't know for what? And so, you just order what you usually get 'cuz you think it's good enough. Only, you start to notice things about it this time. Like it took forever to get to your table, and it looks overdone, and you think the waiter mighta buried a pebble in it so you'd chip your tooth-"

"Why would a waiter want to chip your tooth?"

"I don't know. Maybe he's a dick waiter- it's not the point. It's just, you thought it was what you wanted, but when you finally get it you realize... it's just not good enough anymore."

Rhia took a seat next to him, looking at her lap. "You're not happy?"

"I used to be. I don't know what it is. I guess... I'm just feeling kind of down lately. Who knows, maybe this trip to a remote island with lots of beautiful women is exactly what I need to get back on my feet," he ventured, patting his sister on the shoulder. "You done?" he asked, gesturing to the bag. She nodded and he zipped it closed.

Hannyabal stood by Rhia's side, waving farewell to Reed as he shrunk into the distance on the stern of a marine vessel, bound for Fishman Island. "I hope he's careful. A lot of fishmen are resentful of humans, and he tends to be a bit... well, stupid, when it comes to tact."

"If they circle around to Coral Hill, they shouldn't have any trouble. We just have to hope he doesn't cut through the island." She was leaning against the rail, looking somewhat forlorn. He wondered briefly if he should say something when she interrupted his thoughts, "Hey, I never asked you; how'd your meeting go?"

"Better than expected. But I expected to be packing up my office right about now, so take it for what it is."

"So pessimistic," she half-smiled, looking out at the water. The marine ship had disappeared over the horizon already. They were silent for a few moments, until she spoke again.

"Do you ever wonder about this world?"

Hannyabal was taken slightly aback at the sudden question. "Constantly."

"What about your actions? Or the actions of the people you work for?"

"What are you getting at?"

Rhia frowned into the distance. "I'm not sure... I just got to thinking. Our whole system... it's a like a shell, isn't it? It wouldn't be here without us. We take our jobs so seriously, as if we answer to some higher power. But our system is given power by people. So then... why do I have this feeling like we're doing something horribly wrong?"

The Vice Warden watched her as she spoke, concern written all over his expression. "Where is this coming from? Did something happen?"

Rhia sighed and turned her back on the sea. "No, nothing happened. Well, nothing noteworthy. I guess I'm just thinking too much; don't worry about it," she shrugged it off, pushing herself away from the railing and heading for the stairs.

Hannyabal watched her go, worried.

Arlong had proven to be somewhat tolerable in recent days. He agreed to stop trying to kill people in exchange for medical treatment – at Rhia's insistence – and only after she pointed out that if he died he'd never see his sister.

His dislike for humans was still very much a factor, however. He would only accept food and medicine administered by Rhia, and would only be examined by a doctor if Rhia was in the room. It was his insurance policy; firstly because he was paranoid someone would try to assassinate him and the brunette appeared to have every reason to keep him alive. And secondly, he was bargaining from a position of weakness, so he had to be sure nothing happened to make her think he wasn't worth the effort.

Not that it didn't make him sick, having to answer to a human like that.

Rhia gave a quick knock to warn him she was entering, and when she came through the door the fishman looked at her expectantly. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms.

"I just sent one of my guys to find her. It'll take him about a week to reach Coral Hill. Depending on how difficult tracking her will be and how cooperative she's feeling, she should be here in a couple of weeks."

The thickness of the air made her curious and in spite of herself she sniffed it; it took all of her self-restraint to keep from openly gagging. She blinked the water from her eyes and snuck a glance at his waste-bucket, which was about half-full.

"Then in a couple of weeks, you'll have your proof." The way he said it irked her, like he'd assumed she'd already forgotten the deal. She didn't need to be reminded. "Is that it?" he asked, somewhat impatiently.

"What's the hurry? Late for something?"

"Not at all. I just like to limit my contact with humans; I'd hate to start reeking like you."

She wanted to point out the bucket filled with pungent waste sitting near the foot of his mat, but thought better of it. However rude he might be, she wasn't one to kick a man when he was down. It was tempting, though.

"Fair enough," she disengaged, leaving. Arlong watched her go, mostly for the sake of occupying himself. It got really boring at times, sitting around with nothing to do. He honestly wouldn't have minded her company for a while longer, but he'd tear the sun-brand off of his chest before he'd admit that out loud. In truth it was the lack of living contact, the isolation of this place, that was killing him inside.

As soon as the door slammed shut behind her, Rhia stood for a moment with a frown on her face. The guard posted outside looked at her.

"Something the matter, ma'am?"

"He needs a toilet," she observed dryly before walking away.

Something made him shoot up. He didn't know what it was. The door hadn't opened. No, there was something else... a hissing noise he'd never heard before.

He thought he could smell something... a slight burning sensation in his nostrils. But no, that couldn't be. He was just paranoid. He tried to lay himself down and back to sleep, but couldn't bring himself to close his eyes. Something just felt wrong.

He inhaled through his nose again, just to check. This time the burning was more noticeable and he sat up again, touching the side of his hand to his nostrils. Blood.

It was an alarming find that brought him to his feet and stumbling to the door, beating it with his fists. When had he started feeling lightheaded?

"H-hey... Hey! Hey! Open up! There's a gas leak!"

No answer. There was always someone outside his door, and they always at least peeked in on him when he raised a fuss.

He backed up and rammed his shoulder into the door. It jolted, but didn't give. He rammed it again. And again. The sound echoed around the holding block, with no one nearby to hear.

It was early morning, that much she knew. She'd gone to bed much like she normally did, with designs on lucid dreaming and a glass of water at her bedside. Nothing appeared amiss then.

But she was awake, and that itself was strange.

She wasn't sure how long she laid there, listening. Maybe a minute. Maybe five. It was when she finally opened her eyes that she discovered the source of her misgivings in the form of the barrel of a flintlock.

The shot was fired, but she'd rolled off the bed and at the attacker's feet. Feathers rained down; the attacker swore and began to reload.

'A gun in close combat?' She kicked his knee with all her force and he jerked back, dropping the rounds in his hands. She got up and decked him from the right. He was forced backwards and his head slammed hard against the threshold of her doorway.

He slid to the ground, unresponsive. Upon closer inspection, she saw he was average height, with a shaved head and marine uniform. Rhia kicked the gun away from his hands and checked his pulse. At least he was alive.

"What kind of assassin uses a rifle at close range...?" she said to herself, frowning. More importantly, why was he trying to kill her? Where had he come from? And how did he get in her room?

Oh. Right. She hadn't gotten around to fixing her doorknob yet. Well, still- who the hell was he?

She searched his pockets and inside his jacket, pulling out a folded-up piece of paper. Opening it, she saw it was handwritten in elegant script.

Room 113. Door will be open. Woman, roughly five-and-a-half feet tall, black hair, slender. Handle however you like, but she will be aggressive. Get her at the same time as the others.

Others. Others to be killed?

She had to get to Hannyabal- he'd know what to do. But what about her would-be killer? She stared at him for a long moment, and had an idea.

He'd been up most of the night, reading. It wasn't typical for him to be up this late, but he just couldn't sleep. Normally he'd try to remedy it with warm milk or tea, but tonight he was just too on-edge.

The things Rhia had said. About choices and actions. They struck something in him; a sense of doubt and worry he'd encountered long ago, but never resolved. Her words sounded exactly like the things he used to wonder as a young man. Questioning the foundation of society, and the intentions of respectable men, second-guessing who the real criminals were. It was the idealistic ponderings of rebellious youth, except that expressions of such views usually arose out of indignation and passion- an image of what the world ought to be and utter confidence that one was correct. Rhia had spoken just the opposite; a quiet, uncertain, tentative realization that only worried her. She wanted to believe in the system she was a part of; so much so that blinded herself to its flaws. But she'd come to face something that made her confront the complete devastation of what she'd believed all her life.

And if it was enough to pull her away from her image of justice, then it was enough for him to be worried about.

A door slammed somewhere in the hall, pulling him from his thoughts. No one should have been coming or going; this was a sealed floor at this hour. He got to his feet and left the office to investigate, stopping just outside the door when he heard voices.

"...should be asleep, damnit."

"Should we go back?"

"We have orders; we'll just wait."

"We can't wait here forever; the others are doing their jobs now, as soon as the bodies are discovered-"

"The bodies shouldn't be discovered until morning, at least."

"And the Vice Warden should be asleep by now, but his light is still on."

He couldn't see them, but he could tell where they were. His office window looked straight down the hall they were in, with his door just off to the side and out of sight. They couldn't see him standing there and he took the opportunity to circle around. When he came up behind them, he saw that there were three, dressed in dark clothes and crouched around the corner in a huddle.

"Should we try to take him on?" one of them whispered. Unsheathing his baton, Hannyabal grinned, quite amused.

"Honestly, I wouldn't advise it," he offered. The three instantly whirled around to face his large, round belly before he brought his weapon down swiftly upon them.

He retrieved a stretch of rope from his office and came back to tie them up. As he was doing so, Rhia burst through the metal hatch, panting. She stopped upon seeing her boss, already awake and... tying people up... and it only took a second for her to recognize the situation.

"They came after you too, huh?"

"They aren't very competent. How many came for you?"

"Just one, but he damn near did the job. I might need to replace my mattress..."

"Where is he now?"

Rhia smirked, "I strung him up by his ankles. He's dangling over the rail in the foyer."

"You've got quite a sense of humor about it, considering he tried to kill you."

"I'm told I'm too forgiving when it comes to attempts on my life. Anyway, it's good to see you're okay."

He shrugged. "I found them bickering," he explained, and she snorted.

"I don't know whether to be thankful or offended; whoever sent them must not think much of us."

"Do you think they're after anyone else?" he asked, tightening the rope around one's wrist.

"I hope not, but I found a note that makes me think they were planning multiple attacks simultaneously."

"I got that impression too. Raise the alarm and get everyone on the alert; we have a breach in security and there's a high chance others may be in danger."

"Yes, sir."

The fishman took in a raspy breath. He was lying on the ground, mouth pressed up against the little space under the door. It hadn't taken him long to discover that the gas was entering through his vent, and that the air in the hall was probably clean. He didn't know where his guard had gone, but if he could hold out until breakfast, Rhia would discover him. That was what he was counting on.

He'd long ago lost the energy to stand. He'd dunked his blanket in his water-bucket and used it to cover his head from the air in his room. It was more or less working, but the air coming from under the door was limited and not enough to completely fill his lungs. He was already lethargic, and the short oxygen supply was making him sleepy.

But he couldn't close his eyes. If he slept, he'd die.

He coughed and drops of blood flew out. He was worried; he'd had many close calls in his day, but this was the closest. It was an enemy he couldn't fight; whoever was doing this was clever.

It had been about an hour; Rhia had scrambled the guards and got everyone up. No one had reported any attempts on their lives, and apart from the usual disappearances in level five and some deaths on the lower levels that raised no suspicion, almost everyone in the prison had been accounted for. There were a few guards who had disappeared, though Rhia figured they'd just gotten mixed up in the confusion. Nevertheless, it would probably be wise to track them down. After all, the breach occurred somehow.

She stopped into the shift office for the names of those who didn't report in; there were about sixteen on the list. Nine were found dead; all prisoners residing in the levels. The other seven were still missing; three prisoners, four guards. When she looked for the ID numbers, one was unlisted and she could have smacked herself for not thinking of it sooner. Only one prisoner was unlisted that she knew of.

Footsteps. Quick ones. Someone was coming.

He raised an arm and banged frantically on the door. The footsteps stopped and he heard the scraping of metal; a key in the lock. He was saved.

The door was yanked open and Rhia stood, out-of-breath, but she was there. She grabbed one of Arlong's arms and dragged him out into the hall, where he rolled onto his back and gulped down air. "Are you alright?"

"Do I look alright?" he snapped between breaths. She sighed, relieved. She shut the door to the cell and sat, wondering what this meant.

"Where the hell was my guard?" Arlong growled, like it was her fault.

"He's listed as missing. He never checked in."

"That happens? I almost died!"

"That's probably why it happened," she said, agitated. He wasn't letting her think.

Okay; so as far as she knew, someone tried to kill her, Hannyabal, and Arlong. What did all three of them have in common? Nezumi was the only thing that came to mind, but that didn't make sense. Nezumi didn't know he was being investigated. Unless the guilty party was the same person who'd been clearing up his messes all these years... in which case, they had access to information only privileged officials were granted. So either someone at Hannyabal's meeting was guilty, or they blabbed to someone else.

But why resort to murder for a small-time crook like Nezumi? Maybe he wasn't as small-time as she thought. And how did they know about Arlong? Or herself, for that matter? Was someone watching them? Her heart skipped a beat when she realized Reed could be in danger as well. As soon as she took care of Arlong, she'd have to find a way to reach him.

"Can you walk?" she asked, using the wall to stand.

"Of course I can walk," he shot back, sitting up. He tried to get to his feet, but he seemed to get dizzy. Rhia approached him with a hand extended, but it only served to make him grumpier. He ignored it and rocked back to build up momentum, finally landing on his feet. Just as well; she couldn't lift him anyway.

He swayed and used the walls for support the entire walk to the infirmary; she'd have to sit with him as long as he was there, but she was anxious about Reed. He was capable, but not very smart. If she had to guess, she'd say he was about on-par with the assassins she encountered tonight.

She compromised and called Hannyabal on the ward's dendenmushi; he had one of the portable snails which he carried with him, and when he answered she explained her concern. He agreed and left for his office to make the call on a snail with better range.

When she was done, she went back to Arlong's side. He was still bleeding from the orifices on his face, which was kind of alarming to see, but the nurse assured them that with rest and medicine and clean air, he'd be recovered in a few days.

The nurse left to care for other patients, and Rhia and Arlong sat quietly for a few minutes. He was the one to break the silence.

"It was a damn close one. You could have come a little sooner."

"Sorry, I was a little busy with problems of my own."

Arlong looked startled. "They're after you, too?"

"Looks that way."

"Why?"

Rhia shrugged. "I have theories, but nothing for certain yet. I hope you know I came running the moment I thought you might be in danger."

Arlong found the confession strange, like she was trying to make him feel better. He still felt like shit, but that she was making the effort at all was surprising to him. Was it true? Had she been worried?

'About her case against that marine,' he reminded himself. Still, he felt uncomfortable, letting her words hang in the air like that. He felt something was due, and so with a gruff and unfamiliar sense of honor nagging at him in the back of his mind, he shifted in his seat and offered, "Thanks."

This went up a little later than I meant it to; I tried to make it every three days, but the last couple of days have been surprisingly busy, and by the time I had the opportunity to write, I was too tired to think. In the interests of quality, I opted to wait until I could focus.

I'm a little worried about Arlong's character here. He's so stubborn with his regard for humans, but he made exceptions for his discriminatory tastes for Nami and Nezumi. I'm trying to approach him on the sense for business angle he enjoyed so much in Nezumi, but yanking him out of his comfort zone by making the exchange something other than money. He can't have it ALL his way. At the same time, I'm worried how he was portrayed; I feel necessary to remind that he still has a broken leg, is sick in general from injury, and he's now finding it a challenge to breathe at all. I sound like I'm making excuses for him behaving so weak, but I honestly tried to envision what he'd say or do in the specific situation, considering all the variables he'd have to be aware of.

Anyway, thanks for reading! Don't forget to drop a line.

-Louisia