Chapter 12

Hysteria. If she could describe the scene unfolding before her, that's the word Haruka would have picked. It was like a sea of bodies, caught in a tempest. Screams were silenced by the cracks of bullets. Blood stained the filthy floor. Who was killing who? Wait what was going on? Where was the original feud? Lost in the tides. That's where. Now they were all just looking out for themselves. Fighting like savages to slip away with their mangy lives. The girls had taken cover backstage. The band was scattered. The sound of bottles bursting and crackling to the panic stricken floor struck through the chaos like a gong. What a waste of good alcohol.

Crouch low and move fast.

It's all she could think to do. Her eyes scanned for a way out. Where was it safe? Outside. Away from this mess. Naturally. Where else? Upstairs, maybe, in the catwalks. Her eyes fell upon the loose shots, bullets whizzing up and out, bouncing off metal and daring to bite deep into wood. No, they would be riddled with holes by the time they got half way up the steps. The ring? The rusted wire fence made sure that was impossible. Not only, it was at least a good ten foot drop. Where else. Frantically she thought. A man grunted and fell before her, his hand clenching his chest. Blood stained his white shirt, seeping out to pool at her feet. His eyes shook. His throat bubbled. He stared at her. Her heart caught in her throat at the notion. Everything was moving so fast. Pretty soon there would be no one left.

Down.

She caught a glimpse of that door. Brilliant.

Tugging hard on the violinists wrist, Haruka made for that door. It was their life line. Their out. Hopefully no one else had taken it. Blurred vision, shaky breath, pain in her chest. Her shoulder shook as she made her way towards the door. Maybe it had snaked its way in deeper than she had initially anticipated. Was this all delirium. Perhaps she was still back with her mother, sleeping. She shook her head, her other hand held out in front of her as they approached the steel door. It seemed to take an eternity. But at least it was quiet, now. Her ears were ringing. Sometimes she thought that she could make out the sound of a scream, or maybe a bullet, but she wasn't really sure. The scrapper had one goal in mind. One care in the world. And what was it? To survive. It was a tremendous relief when she felt that door slip open and reveal the infinite possibilities that lay beyond. Not a phantom. Not tonight.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins. She didn't hear the other girl, calling out. Didn't hear the door slam tight behind them. Didn't hear the sounds of their footsteps echoing as they moved down into the stairwell. She didn't hear any of it. What if they were going to come after them? It was her or them after all. Dog eat dog. And they were after her blood. They definitely were. She could feel the putrid breath, could smell the smoke of the barrel. Could feel the bite of the bullet in her side. He was coming to get her. Who? Did she know? Maybe. Maybe not.

"Stop!"

Those emerald eyes blinked. Furrowing her eyebrows, Haruka looked around. They were in the Underbelly. Facing that white door. The rows and rows of iron cells (for that's what she pictured them as on the inside) looming dangerously close. What was on the other side. She tilted her head a little, her hand slowly reaching out to the closest one. Before she was smashed back into reality. Michiru twisted her hand from her vice like grip. Then, and only then, did she realize that she had been sweating. Her fingers felt slick and clammy. Cool. Puffy. She felt disgusting. Beads of some sort of liquid rolled down her neck and spine. Her eyes, she felt, were wild. Looking every which way. So much for staying calm. What had happened? Confusion washed over her face suddenly. She looked at the young woman before her.

"Sorry, I guess my instincts got carried away," she apologized. Clearing her throat, she ran her shaking digits through her hair. As she moved, her side twinged just a bit. Noticeably, sure, but pain wasn't anything new to her. That much she could say with certainty. Folding her arms, Haruka locked gazes with the beauty before her. She looked confused. Not frightened. But upset. Had she been hurt? "Were you hurt?" The words felt foreign to her lips. Had she really just said that? Gently, she touched the pads of her dirty fingers to her trembling lips. Everything was screaming at her. Every nerve. Every unspoken thought. The scrapper could feel her eyes darting all around, like a mental patient diagnosed with paranoia. In the times she felt calm, they would lock with those dark blues. But almost instantaneously, she would look away again. Her breathing was light. Fast. As if she had just ran a three hundred mile marathon without stopping. What a rush.

She felt a hand close in around her bicep. Was it her own? Haruka looked down. No. Those delicate hands grasped the cloth. It was the only thing that was holding her down. Keeping her grounded. Soft. Creamy skin. Like silk. 'You have to pull yourself together, Haruka,' she reminded herself silently. The waves of panic had a way of pushing emotions upon her. Emotions that would otherwise stay buried and forgotten. Had Michiru said anything? She couldn't, for the life of her, remember. Her shoulders hit the wall while her eyes closed. Remember remember. Why couldn't she, for the life of her, remember? Her eyes opened again. She was okay.

"Did you say something?" Her voice was shaky, but definitely better.

"I said that I was fine, thank you. I was more worried about you though. You look like you've seen a ghost, are you alright?" There was a crease between the young violinists eyebrows. She looked so alluring. Haruka moved herself a little closer, examining the young woman's features with painstaking scrutiny.

"Me?" She scoffed. It was a reflex. Her heart beat madly in her chest. "I've just been shot in the side, how do you think I am? I'm bloody fantastic, really." There she went. Running her mouth again. There was something about this place that made her edgy. Like a cornered dog. Give her a little bit of sympathy and she'd bite your hand off, that one. The warmth left her arm. Those calloused fingers sliding lightly along her skin, leaving a burning trail in its wake. No. Don't go. Her mind was foggy. What was the matter with her?

"I see your spirits have resumed. I don't have time for your games, there are some obvious matters that need my attention before they get too out of hand. If you're certainly done with your quips, I'll just be going. I'm sure you're accustomed to licking your wounds, so be a good little kitty cat and crawl back into the hole you were born from." Arms crossed, Michiru gave her a sideways glance. Cool. Hard. Her eyes were like liquid steel. The blonde wanted, in the worst way, to make her stay. Even if it resulted in a fight. Well, a worse one than it was already starting out to be.

She didn't say anything. Didn't move. Didn't breathe. Couldn't even if she wanted to. What was this? What? Frustration began to bubble. Her fists clenched, her lip twitching just in the slightest. The blue haired girl made to turn. What was she? An ice queen? Well, you did start it, you know.

"Whatever. Go crawl back to that fat bastard, you filthy whore. I'm sure he's waiting for his desserts. Oh, and make sure to not let your raging appetite go too out of control, he might have a heart attack and die. Wouldn't want that." Did that even make sense? It sort of just fell out of her mouth like that. Good one Haruka. Real classy.

"Really? That's the best you can come up with? Just what, exactly, are you trying to prove, Haruka?" She turned to face her again, her hands grasping her own forearms. If looks could kill, Haruka was certain she would have been dead ten times over. God, she really was stupid. She opened her mouth to try and come back, but the question hung heavily upon her shoulders. What exactly was she trying to prove?

"I'm not trying to prove anything! I'm ju--"

"Exactly! Your words are nothing but hurtful quips that are anything but true. You are just proving yourself to be a child. A babe that hasn't yet fully realized the world around her. You pretend to know everything, but you don't, Haruka! So stop pretending and actually DO something with yourself. You can't even protect yourself! You have to stoop as low as beating another mans brains out of his head in order to survive! Why the fuck did you walk in those doors? Did you honestly believe that everything would just be given to you? Ever since you came around, things have been going wrong. And you know who has to deal with it? ME. You cause me trouble, Haruka! I dare to say that I hate you. I hate you. You are the most pigheaded, cocky, stubborn bastard that I have ever had the displeasure to meet, and trust me, I've met a lot of assholes. But you are by far the worst of them," Michiru hissed. Her words were like venom. Dripping with ice and malice. Did she really hate her? Haruka felt her heart twist a little. But, she was right. She was exactly like a wounded animal. And the way she figured, since the fire was already started, why not just add to it?

Michiru grit her teeth, her heart pumping madly in her chest. Anger radiated off of her. Had she really just said that? Did she hate her? It was maddening. Haruka moved forward, her eyes dark, her fists balled. The violinist took a step back for every step that the scrapper before her took. Those emerald eyes were stormy. Frustration and a hint of hurt etched her ridged iris. Her teeth were locked, her face a little red. A pang ran through Michiru's heart as her eyes graced the healing bruises and cuts all along the young woman's face. Why wouldn't she let anyone in? She felt her shoulders hit the opposite wall. A shiver rolled down her spine when she watched the young woman move dangerously close to her, their noses almost touching. Heart in her throat, Michiru could only stare back, hoping that the other would back down.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that, Michiru, or else--"

"Or else what, Haruka? Are you going to hit me? Are you going to beat me senseless and show me who's right and who's wrong?" Her words were fast, her tongue quick. Haruka had not expected it. Her fists tightened, her right hand raised. She wanted to slap her. But she couldn't. She just couldn't. With a frustrated cry, Haruka slammed both of her fists into the wall behind her cornered violinist. She leaned in just a bit closer, her eyes dangerous. A snarl ripped itself from her gnashing teeth as she began to speak.

"You don't know anything either, woman. You tell me to stop pretending, well, I think you need to have a small reality check. Get your head out of your ass and stop pretending to be that fairy princess. You aren't fooling anyone. And if you are, then they are a damned fool for believing you. Why would any honest girl work around a place like this? Why would a fairy princess grace the lowly dredge of the working world with her presence? Is it because life at home isn't going so well?"

"Stop it."

"Is it because the husband comes home, drunk off his ass and pummels the wife and kids?"

"Stop it."

"Is it because daddy's little girl needs to feel a real man between her legs?"

"STOP IT!"

"Or maybe it's because she can't deal with the reality of her situation? Maybe it's because she allows herself to be controlled and manipulated into believing that everything is okay. Maybe she's just as guilty as the fucking asshole who bets on lives for fun. Maybe she hopes to get closer to him. Maybe he's the real man. The one she really wants to--"

"STOP IT!" Skin against skin. Haruka's head suddenly whipped around, a crack filling her ears. Slowly, dangerously, she looked back at the young woman before her. Her eyes were filled with crystalline tears, anger and grief surging off of her shoulders as she slowly brought her hand back down.

"So that's it? Well, let me tell you something sweetheart, that man up there? He doesn't care about you. He doesn't care about anyone but himself. Do yourself a favor and just put a bullet between your eyes before he does." Stop it, Haruka. What are you doing?

"I hate you." And the dam finally broke.

"Yeah, well I HATE YOU TOO, MICHIRU! I hate everything about you! I hate the way you look at him. I hate the way you look at me. And the way you speak. And the way you allow yourself to be pushed around by everyone except for me. I can't force you to do a damn thing, and it's infuriating. I hate the way you make my heart beat and the way you make me feel. I hate the way I think about you and the way I want to wipe away your tears right now. I fucking hate you. And I don't even know why I can't just bring myself to leave you alone! I hate the way we fight. I hate it when you slap me. I hate this. All of this. And I especially. Especially hate the way you make me want to apologize for everything I've done." A silence fell over them. Haruka's shoulders slumped a little, her side beginning to burn. She felt warm. Ashamed. Upset. Her eyes still burned with fire. But she had quelled the tears, at least. Great going, asshole. At least you know you can fix what you broke, on occasion.

The violinists breath was warm against her neck, tickling it lightly. Alluring. Intoxicating. Slowly, Haruka leaned closer, her eyes never leaving the violinists. She could almost feel those lips. Could almost taste her. "I hate you." A spell had been cast. All caution thrown to the wind. And for what? Haruka didn't care. She wanted this more badly than she wanted to survive. Maybe she was suffering from delirium. Who knew. A spark passed between their lips, that spark that happens right before they meet. A shiver rippled between her shoulders. A sigh almost shook her chest. But she held it in. This close, she could smell her. The sweet, complex fragrance. Refreshing like the ocean breeze. She was almost there.

POP! SLAM!

"BY ORDER OF THE MARSHALL, ALL OCCUPANTS ARE TO CEASE AND DESIST, LIE FACE DOWN ON THE GROUND AND PUT THEIR HANDS BEHIND THEIR HEAD!!"

The spell was broken.

Haruka jumped, her eyes blinking wildly, a blush daring to creep up along her neck when she realized what she was doing. All she felt was embarrassed. Had the girl even wanted a kiss? No. Who would want one from a foul mouthed dog was her bitter thought. Hiding her eyes, Haruka didn't even dare look at the violinists face. She was probably horrified. Stupid stupid Haruka!! STUPID. She brought a palm to her forehead as she pushed herself off of the wall. She made to move. Her breath caught in her throat.

Where had all her air gone?

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Why had she done that?

Michiru couldn't reign in her beating heart. They had almost. She had almost. Wow. Her head was fuzzy, dizzy. Everything was spinning around in a circle. Weren't they just yelling at each other? Didn't Haruka hate her? And didn't she, in return, hate Haruka? She had thought so. But she would have never guessed, in a million years, what was to come next. As soon as the scrapper pushed herself up and away from the wall, her body instantly missed and craved the heat. Her heart was being pulled. Her lips were buzzing. Hands shaking. She was being irrational. Unreasonable. It was all in her imagination. Perhaps she had caught a cold and it was just now deciding to make itself known. Hot, yet cold at the same time. Nervous. Was she nervous? Or maybe she was still riled up from the fight. Who knew.

Suddenly, Michiru found her hand grasping the fighters wrist and pulling. It was like she was on the outside, watching. It was just happening. Instinct. Her fingers locked, her other hand shot up, grabbed Haruka's blonde locks and pulled. She needed to be closer. If she wasn't, she felt she might sink into the earth. Wait. What am I doing? Their lips met, finally. Her muscles were tense, her heart shaking her chest. Knees buckling, she refused to let go of the scrapper. This was her moment and she needed to get it done and over with. She needed to feel those soft lips. And she did. She needed to feel those golden strands fall between her fingers. She did. There was a fire in her stomach. And it needed to be quelled. A passion. She didn't even care if Haruka wanted this or not. She had to get it out and away before it became a problem. She couldn't allow herself to be fighting this every time she saw the other woman. She couldn't. This was just so it was all out. And then they could move on.

Powerful arms wrapped around her, fingers pushing through her own hair, a hand resting on her hip. Another jolt shook her system. Her throat was dry. What was she doing? She continued to ask herself that, even as she allowed their lips to slip together. But, it was all so. So. No. This was just to get it out and done with. This wasn't anything. But she did very much like the way Haruka held her. And tugged on her hair. And pulled a finger down her spine. And…no! Wait. Why? No..why? She had taken a bite of the lotus and now, she was forgetting. What was she doing again?

CRACK! SLAM!

"ANY REMAINING OCCUPANTS ARE TO RETURN TO THE LOBBY IMMEDIATELY!"

Everything came rushing back to her suddenly. Pulling back, as if she had been burned, Michiru looked at Haruka. Her eyes were wide, a blush streaking her cheeks. Eyebrows furrowing, the young violinist turned on her heel and bolted. She had to get upstairs. Before the authorities got a hold of her. She had to get of that scrappers presence. It drove her mad. And she wasn't even sure what kind of 'mad' it truly drove her! It was all so convoluted and confusing. Everything about her. She took the steps two at a time and burst through the steel door, her arms raised. The authorities looked at her, a barrel leveled right to her head.

She gave a helpless smile, her palms facing them. A mutual understanding passed between them all. Taking a deep breath, she began to move again. Towards the office. Everything was still spinning. Her eyes were trained upon the ground. She didn't even want to know how much damage had been done. Would they be able to open next week? Or would there be a lull in the income and would they have to wait another two or three weeks before the operation was back up and running? Either way, this was certainly a problematic situation. She brought a hand to her lips. They still tasted like her. Inhaling sharply, she shook her head. Bad idea. She had to put that aside, for now, and deal with it later. It could not be her primary concern.

"Have you retained custody of the suspects, marshal?" She turned to look at an older man, his long coat covered with dirt. He was about average height, his worries bearing heavily upon his drooping shoulders. He had a white mustache and the biggest brown eyes you'd ever see. He nodded his head. He looked tired.

"We just wanted to make sure there were no other trouble makers out there before we left the premises, Miss Kaioh," his voice mirrored the way he looked. Exhausted.

"You have our thanks." She nodded her head. A hand snaked beneath her elbow and pulled. Honestly, she half expected it to be Haruka. Much to her chagrin, however, it was not. Van Toff. And he didn't look too pleased. "Excuse me if you would gentlemen," she nodded at the officers and followed the older man. He was ridged. She could tell that he was angry. Swallowing a little, she followed. What could it be this time? Hopefully it wasn't some silly request on his part.

When they were mostly alone, save a few dead bodies, or a few men that had passed out from their injuries, he turned to her. His eyes were sunken deep into his skull, casting shadows over them. His forehead wrinkled as he pulled the young woman closer. She looked down at his hand. "If you would unhand me, Mr. Van Toff, I would gladly appreciate it." Her lady like smile was back in place. Perfect, flawless on the outside. That was hardly the case on the inside, unfortunately.

"Of course, of course." He was holding back his fury, but he did let go of her. He smoothed out his slightly wrinkled suit and took a deep breath.

"What is the matter?" She asked, cautiously.

"The matter is, my dear, the way you handled and treated my men. I expect respect from you and they are an extension of me. The way you displayed yourself in front of them was a blatant disregard to the proper courtesy which is reflected upon you and your family. Need I remind you that I could have you all ruined in a heart beat?" He was threatening her. And she didn't like the way that he was doing it. She sighed inwardly, put on an apologetic face and took his hand in hers.

"You have my deepest apologies, Mr. Van Toff. However, what your men failed to recall was that they were the offenders, not me. I simply reacted. Tell me, you would also react if a man was advancing on you, wanting you to take your clothes off. I repeatedly told them no. I had no time to dilly dally with them. I'm sorry that their incompetence got in the way of the truth. If you would forgive me." She stroked his hand once then kissed it. A revolting feeling surged in her stomach. His skin was rough, worn with age. A shiver raced down her spine when she felt a finger trace down the back of her neck.

"All's well, dear. Just know that you owe me a proper apology soon." A snaky smile. And all she could do was nod her head and say, "Of course." Something swelled up in her stomach. Perhaps it was her own animal. Trying to claw its way out. But after you've been caged for long enough, you just tend to forget. Freedom? What's that.

"I'll bid you farewell until our paths happen to cross once again." He placed a hand upon her shoulder, his face turning into her ear. "I'll be waiting."

And nothing was ever more true.

When you're born in a cage, you don't know anything different. "RU. RU?! Goddamnit where is that girl. RU?!?!" The shouts shook her to the very core. Looking down, the young woman stared at her feet. What a mess. What a mess indeed.

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AN: . So. As you can see, my next week is six months later. Please don't hate me. I'm sorrryyyy! See! I told you guys that I need to have a STRICT timeline because if I didn't have one, then I would never get anything done! I said that! And then my life exploded! I mean, with classes and a new girlfriend and room mates that are always distracting me, I find it hard enough to work on my homework, let alone writing for fun. x_x But it's okay! Look! I came back. And I'm going to fall back into a routine. Every Thursday for this quarter. I don't have class on Thursdays. But I do work. Lamesauce. So what's been happening with me…I've been playing Pokemon. And I've beaten more games than I can count in the time I went on a hiatus till now. But don't even worry about it guys. I won't let you down. I always come back. I'm like herpes!

And I just wanted to say: If you really want to punch me in the throat, you can. It'll all be okay. See, I'm back. Okay. Since it's been so long, I'm not going to reply to last chapter's reviews. But I will reply to this chapters NEXT WEEK WHEN I HAVE THE UPDATE. Right. Okay. So. Send them in.

I heart you guys.

Till next week.