Notes: E-books. Bane of pure financial evil. And a sign that your frakked. At least...for manhwa companies.

Disclaimer: I don't own. Game creator Daisuke owns Guilty Gear. The awesome manhwa-ga duo artist Park Sung-Woo and writer Ihm Dal-Young own "Zero The Beginning of the Coffin". And "Another Day" belongs to Forte Escape and the wonderful DJMAX vocalist, Miya. :D

Of

"Talking! XD"

'thoughts...'

-SFX, sound, or kick it action-

Location change or sumthing else

The Circle

Zero Memoirs of the Circle

Circle 3: It Begins...

April 15th, 2182
Late in night
Somewhere in France...

The group had settled down for the night. They had rented two rooms in a local inn quite easily, despite rumours that had spread like a propane fueled fire. Owning to the whispers and posters, people were warned of a mysterious person with three male members. They wore all brown clothing and it was said the leader of them sometimes wore black to show superiority.

"Suu? Are you done playing that Pony of yours?" a female voice called from window.

Strings of banjo notes in beat to music confirmed the complete opposite. "I need that Max Combo nunah!"

The girl sighed. Fingers closed the windowsill as she threw her body upon the bed, crawling over to the boy playing the game system. Bent lower to see his amazingly focused face. The expression was amusing. His lips were tightened in a smug grin, eyebrows raised in anticipation, eyes completely blanked with getting that Max Combo. A peek over the system screen in blazing fast hands confirmed he was in the thousands and counting.

It was too bad he was never gonna get it soon.

The Pony Portable game system screen blanked, cut off from the real world. "Nnnnoooo!" And the boy crashed down to reality as well. "My-" Before he could get hysterics started, he found himself interrupted by a pair of arms around his waist and a female voice shoosing him, drawing his body closer to calm him. Felt a warm presence enter his being and reassure everything was alright, replacing the shock experienced just seconds before. Slow breaths pressed against his back as the female behind him lightly yawned. "It's late night, darling brother..." her tired voice stated matter-of-factly. "Please, get some sleep." The man pouted cutely. "But sis, I-" Again, he was interrupted with a forceful hug, knocking some of the air he inhaled in reverse. "Shh! You can get your Max Combo tomorrow. Go to sleep. I'm tired as well, so that's an order!" The former let out a disheartened aww. "Is my elder sister so tired that she can't keep pace with a lowly human?" his smug voice teased.

No response.

"Nu...nah?"

He peeked back to see his sister peacefully snoozing on his back. She was out of it, far into blissful dreamland. Eyes landed on the Portable game system beside him. Then guilty cut to his sister. He smiled as he gently moved her limp body back under the soft wool covers, then slipped under himself. The moonlight luminated her sleeping face, going back ages to a time lost. The brother gave one last smile, before kissing his elder sister goodnight. "I love you, nunah..." He let his eyes close.

The game was left on the table, untouched.

"This is the place. I'm sure of it." a low brooding voice said.

A young voice, not even out of teenage years. "Are sure, Colonel? I mean...look at it. Doesn't it make more sense that the General would rent an expensive place rather than this..." A glance up and down. "Run down inn, dontcha think?"

An orange glow and puff of grey smoke. "No, this is where they're staying. According to the report..." The unfastening of a button and ruffle of papers. "'Subject "Zero" is supposed to be humble and possibly even loving to normal people. Hates rich, reactionaries, gangs, and will do anything to stop them. Rumoured to be the hero of Korea in the Holy War. Currently leads a group of four, including self.'" Another shuffle of papers. "There's no doubt. It's one I-, er, we've been looking for."

Another male voice, this one aged in early thirties. "But sir, if the General's a humble person as the report says, then shouldn't she be naturally kind-hearted?"

A scoff, followed by a sarcastic laugh. "Don't be stupid boy. She believes in communism. Red pinkos are naturally evil because they mess up everything. Heh...and the propaganda as well. I won't be sur-" A hand was held. "Wait!" the youngest voice said, "I hear something...like... singing...?" The mid-aged voice chided the younger. "Kim. Don't be naive. Almost nobody sings at-"

"...Another day and tell my soul to be blazing sun..."

"Night..."

The youngest voice gasped. "Oh my God, it's Miya! Miya, Miya, Miya! I love Another Day!" Fumbling and sounds of fanboiness. "Shh! Shh! Lemme hear! Ahhh, I love Miya!"

Dead silence except for the singing. "Then the lights of time will cross over my eyes, over my eyes. Heart will go another day and tell my soul to be falling star...then the stream of life will send me higher...to the end..."

The melancholy voice carried into the night as the singing stopped, but soon faded away. A disheartened moan from the youngest. "Aww...she stopped. Still, I wonder who's beautiful enough to have such a mel-" A slapping noise. "Ow, Colonel! Why'd you-" The eldest man let out a snarl to silence the youngest one and returned to topic. "As I was saying, we need to capture the General as soon as possible." He nodded toward his team, pulling back his sleeve and glancing at an antique watch. "We'll strike early in the morning since that's when everybody is just starting to wake up. Until then..." Eyes darted around for a hiding spot. Then found it.

"We'll stay in that orange ship with...hearts...on it...yeah... Any questions?"

Silence.

"None? Good."

Sunrise, April 16th, 2182
Border Town Inn, Room 101

"Thank you so much! Have a nice day!"

The girl handed the innkeeper the keys to Room 101, thankful to the family who let them spend the night. She and her friends had felt more than overjoyed when they finally found somebody to be willing to shelter them at no cost. During their tour of the marketplace, somebody had brushed by and pickpocketed all the money they had. As intuitive as the woman was, she and her friends had failed to catch the culprit amongst the thick crowd. Penniless, they fought against the minor hunger and hateful glares of people when caught stealing, which had almost brought the youngest to the brink of tears. The female tried her best to comfort him positively, but she knew better. Life after the war was tough.

Now, they had all packed up their belongings and were ready to go. She was sitting on a dilapidated sofa, looking at her surroundings as to study them closely. The wall paint was cracked and chipped at places, lights dimmed to barely seeable levels to conserve power, the wooden furniture dusty and glossy sheen long gone. But despite the gloomy atmosphere of the place, everybody had resorted to helping one another, putting on cheery smiles and serving the best they could. Eyes lowered to the black boots she wore. And yet... eyes stole a glance to the unruly customer demanding money to be paid back for some unknown reason, the poor innkeeper's daughter trying to explain how everybody were poverty-stricken these days. From the timid expression on her face, the poor thing appeared to on the brink of crying. How she hated ca-

"Hey lady. Why are you wearing brown clothing? It looks silly!"

The female turned her head slightly to the voice, vision catching a young male child of no more than five years old. Judging from his face structure and slang accent, it seemed he was a foreigner just visiting France. Like her. His eyes here full of curiousity and wonder, as to be expected of a child. Behind that, she felt, was slight apprehension directed toword her. To him, she was unfamiliar and possibly an outcast renegade from another country. She knew just how much fear there was circulating around France. The worn propaganda posters and recently, news warning of another threat, only served to instill absolute paranoia with the public. Such was the power of the rich to manipulate the poor. She smiled gently to the child, sitting straight against the saggy sofa and patting the space next to her, an offer to sit and chat. He immediately brightened up and jumped next to her. Blue eyes twinkled with uncensored innocence. Brown eyes hid a subtle motherly compassion.

"Brown clothing you vonder?" the woman spoke with a heavy Asian accent, but it was understandable. The child nodded, eyes blinking in wonder to learn more. "Am I de only person to wear brown, my child?" The boy child shook his head no, opening his mouth to speak. "Well, my dad is in the military and he says the only military to wear brown are "evil commies" as he says." The boy canted his eyes to the ceiling as he thought as deep as his growing mind could muster. "Lady..." he finally asks, "You're not a commie...are you?"

The woman's pupils had slightly contracted in absolute shock. Here was this boy and elder woman having of what was supposed to be a lighthearted question, now turned into fear-mongering propaganda by this poor kid's parents. If she was his mother, she would have given the father a scolding or two. Perhaps a boot in the face for lulz. She thought those cold days were completely over, a mere footnote in history to where people could look back and realize, "Man, those guys sure were complete idiots!" to have a good laugh about it.

"Lady...are you evil?"

The boy's innocent voice lured her out of trance, the words slamming their dead weight against her emotions. Just how could this innocent child's father say that? It was like saying one was vastly superior to a friend simply because of the clothing worn. It wasn't fair at all. Despite her displeasure, she knew she had to dispel his fears immediately. Taking a slow breath, she smiled at him to calm. "No child. I'm not evil as your father claims whoever he's against." The child gave a uncertain look, brows turned down in anxiety. "But...you're a comm, then Lady?" The mature woman's expression crumbled barely, but soon reverted back into contentment. She gently grasped the boy's tiny hand and, to the surprise of both, pulled into an affectionate hug. "Don't worry child. It won't matter in the end. Everybody from those times are long gone now. It's time to move on, so please..." The woman's arms tightened around the boy's small frame. "No more being scared."

He then said something she would remember for the rest of her life.

"Yes...mommy..."

Her eyes closed and her head brushed against his own, deeply touched.

'Silly child...'

She knew the tender moment wouldn't last forever, the boy wasn't her's. So before anybody had the chance to cat-

"Micheal! Why is that woman hugging you?! Come to your mother at once! She could be a communist in disguise!"

The young woman opened her eyes to see a slightly older woman of Asian descent staring spitefully at both her and the child in her arms. Her grip loosened partially. The girl felt rather surprised, this boy in her arms was a half-mix? She peeked to catch a glimpse of his eyes. They still were full of content and bliss directed toward her, a obvious sign he thought she was his mother and he hadn't listened to his real mother at all. No wonder he was so respectful towards her. She could lol at that. "Micheal Yoko Smith! Mother orders you to come to her side! Leave that other woman!" Oh, it seemed the PMSer was getting angry. The girl's hands laid on the boy's shoulders, gently pushing him away. A hand gestured toward the woman before her. "Go back to your real mom now, child."

The boy brought a finger to his lips and shook his head. "No...Micheal likes commie lady better..."

The girl smiled at the innocent comment, eyes filling with melancholy contentment. Her heart warmed at the child's gaze, marveling at the amazing amount of innocence it held. A glance to the other female told a different story. The half-mixed boy's gaze torn into the woman, she could practically feel the longing and want along with propagandist fear. He was liable to be tainted with hatred and contempt for others if the parents continued to teach him wrong. "I want to be friend with commie lady, please be friends?" She wasn't going to let it happen. The woman hugged him once more and lowered her head closer. Lips parted just enough for both of them to hear, "Of course I'll be a friend to you." The child brightened up at her answer, beaming happily. "Really?" A sideways glance to the boy's real mother clearly meant punishment. "You'd better not hurt my boy, communist! I know all of you pinkos are the same!" However, in a world ruled by fear and money, the brown uniformed woman simply ignored the ranting mother and gave the child another tender hug. Fear didn't matter to her.

"Yeh, really." her voice softly spoke.

The boy child tightly hugged back when the words were out, almost clinging to her as if he had accepted her as his real mother. The befuddled look on the other Asian female's face, while clearly amusing the girl, also told her no. She, boy in arms, stood up from the sofa and calmly walked to the boy's real mother. The mother's scowling glare of hatred never changed one bit, even daring to bear pearly white teeth, a sign of aggression to the calm woman holding her baby. Being female herself, the younger woman understood why the elder woman was acting so angrily. "I'm sorry I hurt your child, ma'am. Please, forgive me." The younger offered an honest smile as she set down the real mother's son. "My English is limited. Sorry." The older woman merely took her son's hand, pulling him roughly to her side. She gave the boy a heated look, silencing any protests, then turned her spite against the younger woman before her. The absolute hatred in her gaze was enough to make the younger step back. The girl averted her eyes, sadness filling her heart. She knew what was next.

"I don't care if your English is limited or not! All you communists are the same. Killers and murderers of humans. Absolute lowlife scum deserving to burn in the pits of hell! You want to make people equal so they can suffer! Just all equal clones! Exactly the Gears we defeated not too long ago! Am I right?"

She bit her lip against the emotions roiling inside her. The fascist like words had cut into her deeply, like so many times ago. One part of her wanted to slug this woman across the face to teach a lesson, the other simply wanted a good cry to let all her pent-up sadness out. She knew she couldn't do either, as it would immediately be perceived as "saving face" or "weak" by all the people around her. It wasn't her fault for the brown coat she wore. Heck, she mainly wore it to maintain body warmth. It...it just wasn't fair. The girl closed her eyes for a moment, thinking of the best way to reply. Her hands clenched, then relaxed as arms dropped. Eyes opened to the mother's raging glare once more, this time void of all emotions and soul.

"You disappoint me as a mother. I thought you would be a caring soul, but instead, I see what I have seen too many times. Fear."

The now emotionless girl turned her back upon the boy's mother and walked back to the sofa, collecting a large duffel bag in her arms. She then stepped in between the unruly customer and innkeeper's daughter, whispering something which apparently ceased all unrulyness of the man, causing him to grovelly apologize to his former victim. Without around word, she moved to the door exit quickly and smoothly. She was halfway across the sidewalk before she stopped, feeling a presence glancing at her longingly. Her head turned to see the boy child staring at her from behind his mother's legs. She gave a bittersweet smile to apologize.

A bus sped past, obscuring the woman for a second. When it cleared, she was gone.

He saw a figure walking not too far away in the distance. From his location, a small well lit cargohold in a ship, anybody could see it wore a brown coat, but nothing more. Risking it all to take a better view, he unfastened a leather case, taking out what appeared to be two black optical scopes attached to each other. Before trying anything foolish, he surveyed the sunlight hastily. The glare was directly opposite of the hold, it was perfect. Nobody could see them. Seizing the chance, the young man peered through the lens. And immediately wolf whistled.

"Hey, wake up Park. Your girlfriend is here."

The sleepy man who was leaning his face against the bulkhead groaned discontently. "No, sleep ...important..."

"Real nice...breasts..."

He shot instantly awake, snatching the lens away from the young man beside him. "Kim, why didn't you say so?" Hands placed the lens over his eyes, searching for the woman whom the man named Kim had mentioned. After a few seconds, his eyes widened in shock amazement. Blood rushed from his heart to his cheeks as he fought to rein in feelings. The man took a deep breath, holding it to focus on...

"Hey?! You listening to me Park Hasa? Gimme those things!"

He found himself sprawled on the bulkhead floor an instant later, lens scope ripped from grasp and embarrassed at nobody but himself. The younger man who was previously content had a look of falsified disapproval. Another man, older than any of them, was glaring knives, warning to never disobey ever again. The man cleared his throat and continued on speaking as if nothing happened. Park averted his eyes as quickly as possible, shoving what he just saw out of mind. He needed to quit dreaming. It probably was just another mean one anyways, like so many he saw in the movies...

"...We'll mingle in the crowd, posing as police. When you see the target, yell. Understood?"

Two nods of heads.

"Good. I'm sure you know what is next." The man's brooding voice stated. Hands grabbed hold of a black longarm leaning against the bulkhead next to the old man and a palm pulled back a lever, a gold cylinder visible for a second, then snapped forwards.

"Zero, your time is up...just wait..."

"Suu...? Yoon and Kim still there?"

The young man beside the girl gave a nod. "Neh nunah." The girl closed her eyes for a moment, as if thinking, then opened them again. "Good. Let's go." She grasped the man's hand tightly and stepped off, tugging playfully for him to take action. The male gave a light smile and jumped on the female's back, hugging her neck tightly to hold on. She almost fell back at the sudden weight but hopped to compensate, drawing her shoulders in and bending forwards to support the male leeching onto her. She tried taking a goose step, like the armies of the old, but found to her dismay their combined weight would not support the controversial march, seen as oppressive by many people in a free world. Luckily for her, she had more important things to worry about. Hands cradled the leather belt the girl wore, wrists uneasily close to her bustline. Her head turned back slightly to address the person hugging...or leeching off her. "Uhm...Su-Hwa? Could you not leech on me this once? I mean..." The girl's head turned back toward the crowds of people and shipworkers milling about. "We're near docks, you know?" Eyes spotted two men in blue uniforms, the plain utilitarian design suggesting the local police many of the normal public hated with a passion. Currently, the men had fingers on something...

The girl hastily walked into the crowd, not wanting to attract any more attention. She took the boy's dangling legs from under his knees and lifted, easily supporting his weight. He leaned forward, grip moving from neck to waist as he rested his chin on her shoulder. "Nunah," the boy whispered. He closed his eyes as he pressed his head against her own, causing the oversized visor cap worn on his head to tilt over his vision. The girl gave a warm smile, giggling.

"I love you so much."

No sooner had the words left her mouth, did she spot the writing on the armbands. Military Police...

At this, the girl felt an old friend of hers rising up it's head again. Fear. She could not help but imagine what would happen if she was captured. Would they question her, beat her, then kill her? Or would they torture and humiliate her first? Would she be forced to watch if they hurt her friends first? Perhaps torture her first, and then her friends? Or vice versa? Would they simply be imprisoned for a falsified accusation? Or even worse, be trafficked illicitly into the hell of the capitalist underworld, never to be seen again?

Just what were they doing in France?

Stopping for a moment, she used her free hand to reach into the pockets of her coat, pulling out a slate black cap with red piping along the outer flaps and front. Holding the brim, she quickly placed it upon her head. Giving a mindful glance directed to the "blue thugs" way behind her, the girl gave a nervous frown and pulled her cap over her eyes to cover them.

Meanwhile, on the orange coloured ship overlooking the port, a man holding a radio spoke.

"In the crowd, move in to secure."

The two blue uniformed men exchanged glances and nodded, following the girl.

"Thank you. That will be all."

IPF officer Ky Kiske politely turned away from the innkeeper, disappointed in lack of leads for his newest case. He looked down at the poster once again. It simply showed a middle aged Asian man wearing a brown cap, with an odd haircut that could be best described, as Jam would call it, "socialist style". The rank this particular character wore was unusually high, two pure gold colored shoulder boards with a large star imposed upon it. The best Ky could think of was China's Liberation Army, when Jam Kurodoberi personally showed him her own officer ranks, nice red boards of three lined gold embroidery with four small pips. She said she "kept it for good luck". This character was possibly a General. Unfortunately, it was just simply an artist's rendition of what the person looked based upon numerous media reports running riots. That, and the countless people he had asked most likely exaggerated or falsified a story in order for him to quickly end the threat as soon as possible. Couldn't people see that everything was going to take time? Especially post-war times? Alas, such was fear instilled into the pure hearts of the people through mass media. He sighed in annoyance. Back to Square One.

The French man calmly glanced down as he felt a tug on his pant leg. He was greeted by a little boy of whom appeared no more than 5 years. "Uh...officer...if your looking for somebody, I can help." Ky smiled. He sure was glad that this kid wasn't even born when the war had ended. Despite the innocent words, it was too bad he simply couldn't help out.

"First of all, whoever drew the person has the gender wrong. It's a lady." The boy pointed at the board. "Second, the rank's wrong. She had some kind of emblem above the silver star. If I can remember correctly, it featured a waterfall and mountains."

Ky Kiske momentarily mentally reeled at the kid's knowledge. Obviously, one of his parents were in the military if he knew that much. That was extremely rare, since nearly all militaries had disbanded when humans "controlled" the Gears, or so they thought. Only a few select nations had decided to keep their militaries and that decision helped them greatly in the war. But...this boy's knowledge, it was now invaluable. He hated to force children to pressure them into telling, but this time, it could determine the fate of the entire world. There was no choice. Swallowing his guilt, Ky knelt to the boy's level. "Child, what else can you remember about the lady?" The boy immediately responded, "She was wearing a brown coat and had knee high black boots. Oh and she's Asian too. My dad works with them in the military. He says they are very nice. Well..." The boy's gaze became uncertain and conflicted as Ky patiently watched. "At least...the "non-commie" ones. My daddy says some are very mean. I don't know why..." Ky bit his inner lip. 'You have no idea kid...' The child's expression changed from a pondering one to a cheerful toothy grin. It looked like he remembered something important.

"But the lady was very nice. She even gave me a hug. I really wish...she was my mommy."

Ky smiled gently to ease the child, pleased at his positive way of thinking. "I'm sure you'll met her again someday." He nodded and stood up to leave. "Thanks for the info. Appreciate it, kid." The boy grinned and waved. "Bye officer!" Ky waved a goodbye and stepped out as the wooden door creaked shut behind him. Only one word could describe the underlying peril that the world was in now. As a man of God, he rarely cursed but...

"Le fuck..."

With those words, Ky Kiske immediately headed for IPF Headquarters.

Considering all nations had befriended China, there was only just two nations which still hated each other so much as to threaten war with each other.

The republic of A-Country and communist North Korea.

Everything had just officially gotten from bad to worse.

"I'm being followed. Be lookout, okay?"

The three men under the woman's wing nodded silently. "Sure." She nodded back, opening her mouth to continue on. "Keep low. I don't want anybody to point and rat us out. Remember, we're just visitors to France. Not some army guys seeking to blow shit up. Objections noted, Comrade Miya orders you to get over it."

One of the men next to her smirked. "No U," he muttered jokingly. The other two chuckled, pleased at their friend's meme joke.

A light slap on his side was his receiving answer. "This isn't time to joke, Jin-Seokah! I am not amused!" The man whom was referred to as Jin-Seok smirked playfully. He advanced to the woman and suddenly hugged her around the waist, placing his chin upon her shoulder and smiling too cheerfully. "Oh come on, Miya! We're here to have fun! Not drill like some soulless machines like the rest of the army does! Just live a bit, enjoy the sights, sounds, and hot girls of France!" The woman named Miya rolled her eyes. She knew her friend hugging her tightly was an absolute pervert to his very core and would do anything to see or feel womanflesh. Hands slapped his inching fingers away from her bustline. "Watch it, amigo," she chided firmly. "I don't want you to become the squad's serial rapist. You've already received the "Order of Perverts". Twice. Both 1st class." Jin-Seok laughed the warning off, apparently having too much fun. "Miya. You may have a wonderful voice and body, but your attitude sucks! Tsk, tsk. Better fix that, eh?" The woman snorted. "Yeah, but you fix your perversity first! It's reactionary, ya know?" The man raised a eyebrow. "Oh? Then tell me why you take baths with Shuuichi? You just wanna see him in all his glory, amirite?!"

The girl seriously contemplated on breaking his neck right then and there, but a second glance to her other friends told a different story. For the first time in what seemed like forever, their eyes glimmered with true free happiness, instead of the fake fear-instilled loyalty to some oppressive leader who didn't give a damns worth. Despite all the materialistic things they had brought, everyone seemed interested to give it a try. Her male friends were marveled at everything in France, especially the Eiffel Tower. They laughed and grinned, just to simply enjoy the moment. For the first time, she too felt happy. Not just alone, but together as friends. She smiled. That alone seemed to overrule all the negative things she encountered in the injustice of the "free world".

Petite fingers tenderly brushed the man's hands, tracing softly and gently to tell her friend she wasn't angered at him. Female joints slipped in between the male's fingers perfectly, creating a full link as she squeezed. Jin-Seok smirked arrogantly, half-expecting a hug or explanation to the mystery of life. "I don't have to tell you, Yoon Jin-Seok." His smirk and ego dropped to zero at her words. He wanted his question answered so badly and it was a slap in the face. "I know you're my friend and all, but some things are best to be told later. It's a long story Yoonah and I don't want to explain it. Please..." Her hands tightened the link. "Try to be more understanding. I know you can because you're my darling little schoolmate. I just want you to be happy. That's all."

Yoon Jin-Seok smiled pleasantly, more than satisfied at her wise answer. Despite him being a total perv, she was willing to overlook that fault for him. His happiness. It was just simply amazing how the girl before him had the rare capability to empathize and care for others, no matter how bad they seemed to be on the outside. She truly cared for everybody around her. He huffed in content. "You never cease to amaze me, Miya. You're one of the lucky few..." Eyes drifted to the rundown marketplace, cracked walls and remnants of buildings just beginning to recover from the wounds of war. The man loosened his grip from her belt. "To have compassion."

The girl slapped his hands off in response. There were more important things to be aware of anyways.

"Just be lookout, okay?"

Two blue uniformed policemen moved swiftly through the crowd of marketers, keeping the distance to their target. They calmly walked straight ahead, the crowd of people rushing to get out of the way. From the heavy footsteps and hushed whispers, it was evident the people feared them very much. Despite making the public uncomfortable, the pair had to continue on their mission. In order to appear less threatening, the men took out cigarettes and lit up, smoking casually to give the illusion they were mere passerbys. Keeping a close eye on the four people in brown, they waited for an opportune moment.

"Ya Park..." one of the policemen said. "Do you think your girlfriend is in that group?" The other policeman took a furious drag on his death stick, tight expression suggesting annoyance. The resulting sigh freed a thick heavy smog from the fissure of his mouth, swirls of grey poisoning the air foul for a moment. "Kim, just how many times do I have to tell you? I'll find a girl myself!" And like all friends, he was not pleased by the half-baked excuse. Kim lightly elbowed Park's side. "Com' on! Your thirty years old and still not had your first kiss, man!" Park growled. "That was low, Kim..." The other man ignored him and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, muttering a mantra under his breath. Looking ahead to the people they sought, he discovered the crowd was beginning to congregate again. With nothing else better to do, Kim began to think up of the "perfect girls list". "I know you've always loved the Sumire types! Nice, caring, and good housewives. The perfect dream girl! Or how about Natsuko? Voluptuous and knows how to confront a problem." The young man paused for a moment, then pounded his fist onto his palm. "Wh-"

Park slammed his fist onto the radio on his belt. It was clear he had enough. "Kim!" he nearly shouted, "Do you think playing matchmaker will help me?! No, it won't! And do you know why?!" He pointed a finger ahead. "It's because the General is on the opposite side of us! She behaves differently than us! She's been politically indoctrinated to crazy ass loyalty to some dead guy who wouldn't give a damn about her if they met face to face! And knowing her army, she mostly committed all sorts of atrocities just to get that high of a fucking useless rank! Lives mean nothing to a General, just medals and attention! That's why she's a damn General in the first place! She's been isolated for nearly all her damn miserable life! Even if she and I were to be together in some crazy twisted way, our government would murder us! That's fucking politics for you! It always beats love simply because the warmongering higher ups can send agents to kill us in our sleep! She lives in a totally different world than us! It's impossible!" With the harsh rhetoric out, Park gave a steely glare to Kim. The poor teen's face was downtrodden and his upbeat hopes had been utterly torn apart by the realist words. He knew he had to fix the situation quickly. Letting out a final sigh to release his anger, he stated, "Besides, she's most likely a old hag anyways.

It was then they noticed it was unusually quiet.

"Do you think she heard us?"

When the crowd parted, four brown figures were running in the distance.

Already, the men had crushed their death sticks underneath the heel of their boots as they hauled after.

"She already has!"

AN: Okay. Ending it here. lawls, too long for you, eh? Well, I had fun typing this chapter. I'll be "officially" introducing the main characters in the next chapter. lol, expect a trench coated American to open a can of whoopass upon some peoples.

And moar Dizzyness too! o

On a side note, the "mommy" scene was directly inspired from a panel from the Korean manhwa: "Zero - The Beginning of the Coffin". As you will read, the main heroine of this story is something akin to a benevolent goddess, despite her being on the "wrong". It's unfortunate that something that is originally meant to be a good thing can become tainted so badly by propaganda. It's like spreading rumours about somebody, slandering them to be "evil" while in fact, they are nice and considerate people, just as human as others.

Why can't people be more understanding these days...?

But I had so much fun writing the scene where my female heroine and the boy acted out the parts of "mother and son". As you can tell, I like writing intimate scenes where it's just one and nothing else.