Kasumi watched in horror as the blade arced sharply downwards towards yet another bystander who would fall because of her.
"…No…" she whispered, her tears falling freely as she turned her eyes from the scene.
There was a sharp clang of metal against metal, and she snapped her attention back to the scene. The young man held his gun in both hands over his head, blocking the swing. There was a grimace on his face, looking back with sharp eyes against the ninja's cold response.
"Wide open." He growled, and swung the butt of his rifle down, smashing it into the hunter nin's face. There was a snap as the plastic hook that held his rifle to the harness he wore broke. The nin stumbled back a step, but the sailor was relentless. He brought the butt of the gun violently down on the man's shoulder, the crack of a collarbone clearly heard. Metal flashed as the hunter swung his blade single handed, only to be countered by the metal of the rifle. The blade slid down the barrel, biting into the sailor's hands, but he never lost his grip of the rifle. He turned fully around, bringing the butt of the weapon into the hunter's chest, followed by a powerful kick that pushed the nin a step or two away. With an audible growl, the hunter reset himself, only to realize his mistake.
Michael Kresson, Master at Arms Second Class, had reset as well, the butt of the rifle tucked tightly into the pocket of his shoulder. The hunter's hand flashed silently, and pair of throwing stars arced gracefully through air. One hit his armor, the metal tip shattering against the hardened ceramic body armor he wore. The other grazed his arm, tearing open the sleeve of his uniform and leaving a bloody line where it passed.
The report of the rifle was deafening in comparison. The barrel blazed to life, fire escaping the sides of the suppressor at its end. Twice the weapon roared, both rounds finding their home in the center of the nin's chest. With strength that almost wasn't human, the man kept himself on his feet by willpower alone. His glare leveled on the sailor, who still had the rifle tucked into his shoulder.
"Go to hell," the nin spat in heavily accented English.
Mike's weapon roared one last time, a hole appearing in the man's head, just above his eyes. Without so much as another sound the nin fell.
The sailor dropped to a knee, clutching his torn open shoulder with one hand, while blood ran from his other. The girl still hadn't moved, staring wide-eyed at him.
D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D- o-A
Kasumi couldn't believe her eyes. There were rumors that the American Military was on another level as compared to Japan's self defense force, but to have someone with the skill to go hand to hand with a Ninja of her clan, and win just walking perimeter guard… the concept of what their fabled special forces teams could do terrified her. It wasn't until then that she realized that he was bleeding, and her hand came up towards him, as she tried to reach out to him.
She watched as his hand left his shoulder, pulling a black handset from behind his back.
"Cog, West Rover," he spoke into it. "Forced entry over the fence at location three tac three oh six. Shots fired, shots fired. One confirmed kill, two no longer in vicinity, one injured civilian."
"Cog copies," the static on the handset broke as he was responded to. "Confirm status."
The bill of the sailors cap covered his eyes, but she could tell by the grimace on his face he was in pain.
"I'm hit, Marshall. Might want to send a third bus for me."
At that, his head dropped farther, and he tumbled over his weapon, crashing gracelessly to the ground.
"NO!" Kasumi screamed, ripping the kunai out of her own leg, and hobbling over to where he was.
"It was just a scratch!" she panicked, rolling him onto his back. "You shouldn't be down like this! Not after what you just did for me!"
Her eyes locked on his arm, where the star had ripped through his shirt. Angry purple lines ran up and down his arm. The realization nearly took her breath away. It was a poison that the assassins of her clan used. It would not kill him…not right away, but the paralysis set in rather quickly from it. Tears formed in her eyes as she collapsed on top of him, flashing lights quickly rushing towards them as the response team raced to the scene. Her tears joining the rain that ran down her face.
"West rover, COG, repeat your last?" His radio blared. "West Rover, COG, did you say you had been hit?"
…
"West rover, COG…"
…
"West Rover, COG!"
…
"Mike!"
D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D- o-A
An audible gasp flooded the room as his eyes jerked open. His combat reflexes kicked back in nearly immediately, as he jerked himself to a sitting position. He felt something pull from his hand, and something ripped from his chest. Around him alarms started blaring, and an annoying, steady tone pounded into his head. Instantly, a trio of people showed up in his room, two male nurses and one female, although by the looks of it the female could have taken both the guys on her own.
"MA Two, lie down!" she demanded in a voice that would not be contradicted. "You are not to be moving around without my explicit permission!"
Slowly taking in his surroundings, Mike allowed his adrenaline to cool off, and carefully laid back down, his head swimming from the sudden motion.
"The girl…" he whispered, his voice hoarse.
One of the two males looked up from the clipboard he was reading from. "Your chief thought you might ask that. She's in a holding cell back on base."
"She ok?"
The young man nodded. "They took her over to Sewell's Point and got her leg stitched up. She should be fine in a few weeks."
"Good. They catch those two that got away?"
This time, he was shaking his head. "Didn't tell me, but since the base is still on lockdown I'm guessing not."
"I have to get back there…"
"Lay down," the female interjected again. "You had enough poison in your system to kill an f-ing horse. You got lucky though, there was enough of that shit left on whatever that thing was that hit you for Doc to make an antivenom for it."
Another voice interrupted them, bringing all their attention to the door. "Kresson, you're awake, good!"
One of his best friends in the station was Jacob Marshall. They had both transferred to the command about the same time, and just by sitting through classes together, they had managed to become good friends.
Compared to Marshall, Mike was tiny. He stood a good foot and a half taller, was as wide as a football lineman, and solid muscle. His pearly white grin stood out against his dark skin, and as intimidating as he was, the guy was as good natured as they came. He stood there in his uniform, the smile not reaching his eyes however.
"Old man wants you back at base to debrief. He wanted me to come get you as soon as you woke up."
The nurse stomped her foot, calling attention to herself. "He's not going anywhere. Not until I get the doctor's release….orders…"
Her voice trailed off as Marshall shoved a paper in her face.
"He's been released back to us. Doc already sent the details of the antivenom back over to the clinic there by base, so if anything comes up, we can take him back over there."
The nurse sighed in resignation. "Whatever. At least don't make him walk out there while I can still see you. I'll have one of the orderlies bring you a wheelchair."
D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D- o-A
Mike stepped out of his Commanding Officer's office. After retelling the story at least a dozen times, the old man had finally agreed to let him go see the girl that he had just last night put his life on the line for. He carried a folder in his hand, with red "SECRET" stamps on the front and back of it. His steps carried him with a purpose over to the brig, where his bandaged hand gingerly pushed the door open.
"Hey Kresson!" the greetings came from a civilian security contractor who was not much older than he was, sitting behind the desk. "Glad to see you up and about, you had us worried last night man."
"Man, I don't know what happened, Doc says some kind of poison. I dunno. Hey, what cell's that girl being held in?"
"Ow dude, poison? What the heck," the guard said, shaking his head as he ran his finger down a list. "Cell 11, in the door and hang a left, it'll be on the right hand side."
The guard looked up from his paperwork, and at the sailor. "She's a strange one. Her outfit, her whole look."
Mike raised an eyebrow at that.
"She won't talk to us about anything, but she keeps asking for you. Hasn't even touched her food we gave her for breakfast and lunch."
Mike dropped the folder on the desk, where the guard looked at it in surprise.
"Her release orders," he stated flatly. "I'll make sure she's escorted off the base."
D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D-o-A_D- o-A
Kasumi knelt on the mattress in the small cell she had been in since the night before. What had boggled her was the polite treatment she received even from the prison guards. They didn't yell or threaten, but neither did they ignore her. Every one of them had stopped during their rounds to make sure she was ok, then made their way on, stopping at every occupied cell.
There was a buzz, and the electronic lock on her door popped open. Instead of bolting for it, like her instincts told her, she simply waited, kneeling on the mattress. A moment later, she heard the door creak open. Her eyes shot wide when she recognized the young man in front of her.
"Got your release papers all in order," he stated, taking note of her bandaged leg.
For a long moment they just looked at one another, him waiting with a half-cocked grin on his face, and her slack jawed looking back.
"I have to escort you off the base, but you are free to go." He said, his grin turning into a warm, genuine smile. "I'm just glad you're ok."
He stepped easily into the cell, and fully into her view. She could see his bandaged shoulder through the cut in the uniform he was still yet to change, as well as his hand wrapped up tight.
"Come on," he said, offering her his good hand. "Let's get you out of here."
Kasumi rose gracefully, unfolding herself from her kneeling position and onto her feet. The pain in her leg was nearly brutal, but she refused to let this kindness go without response. She took a single step forward, and her fake smile instantly melted away as her leg gave out. She gasped in pain, and braced herself for the shock of hitting the floor.
A shock that never came. She felt a warmth around her, and she found herself with her head against the chest of the blue camo uniform. His right arm had hooked under her own, and caught her up against himself. For a long moment she just stayed there, the gentle touch of another human addicting to her. Tears formed in her eyes, and her fists closed on the blue material as her heart broke, grief washing over her like a wave.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, over and over again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"Ssssshhhhhhhhhhh," his voice was gentle as he shushed her. "It's ok. It's ok."
They stayed standing there until they heard a something rattle on the bars of the cell door. The guard stood there looking at the two, wondering just what to make of them.
"You know her, Kresson?" he asked.
"Not at all," the sailor responded quietly, cupping her head back into his chest with his good hand. "Not at all."
The guard simply shook his head, and continued on with his rounds.
"Come on, no use standing in a jail cell," Mike said, trying to make his voice sound light. "Why don't you let me give you a ride home."
Kasumi's head bobbed automatically, and she felt him turn with her, supporting her so she wouldn't have to put weight on her bad leg. Together they hobbled out of the cell and towards the front door.
"Kresson!" The desk guard caught him as he walked by. "Hey, your chief just called, he said go ahead and take the next seven days off. You're not going to be worth much while on light duty around here right now anyways, and your heroics last night have to have earned you something. Your Chief says just call in to muster in the mornings, and we'll see you next week."
Mike nodded, and said his thanks as he helped the now ex-prisoner out the door.
As they crossed the parking lot, it occurred to Kasumi that while not everyone back in Japan had a vehicle, here it was considered odd to not have one. Her thoughts wandered as they moved through all the cars, everything from shiny, nearly manicured black Cadillacs to a cheap Honda with the doors nearly falling off. A set of keys jingled in the sailor's hand, calling her attention back as he reached for the door of an old pickup truck. The door opened with a protest, and he quickly reached in, wincing as he pulled the stitches in his shoulder, but used his bandaged hand to brush off a few empty plastic bottles, and some sandwich wrappers on the floor. He winced again as he grabbed a handful of clothing and threw it onto the narrow bench behind the seat.
"Sorry about the mess," he said sheepishly, blushing a bit. "Don't often have anyone else in my truck, I guess I kinda let it go."
Kasumi just smiled sweetly, and with his help got herself up into the seat. She reached out, and carefully pulled the old door shut, hearing it click as she got it close, but couldn't get it all the way closed. Again, with a sheepish grin, Mike popped the door back open, warned her to watch her hands, and slammed it shut. Careful as to not pop her own stitches, Kasumi slid towards the middle of the long bench seat, and leaned over to unlock the door on the other side. She was still leaning over and trying to pull the lock up when she heard somebody kick something on the outside of the truck. The lock popped up, and Mike swung the door open. For a brief moment, his eyes went wide, before he turned himself away.
It took Kasumi a long moment to realize what had just happened, until she looked down. Her little ninja outfit wasn't the most conservative piece of clothing in the first place, and right now she was giving him a first class peep show right down her cleavage.
Kasumi jumped upright with a little "Eeeep" escaping from her lips. She was desperately looking for a way to cover herself up when a bundle of blue cloth landed in her lap. She glanced next to her, and saw that gentle smile again.
"It's just my sweatshirt for when we work out, but it's clean and it's something, right?"
She nodded fiercely, and spread it open on her lap. On the front was a cheesy yellow circle with the navy's logo printed within the rope-looking border, while the back simply spelled the words NAVY in yellow and reflective materials. She smiled, and pulled the sweatshirt over her head, pulled the hood down on it and her hair out through the top.
Kasumi grimaced a little when she felt her fingers running through her hair. She had to look a mess…and how long had it been since she had even had a bath, or even a shower for that matter…
"Mike," he offered out of the blue. "Mike Kresson. I realized I'd never offered you my name, I figure it's only polite."
The girl next to him smiled back. "I'm Kasumi."
"So, Kasumi," he said slowly, turning the key in the ignition, and bringing the old truck to life, "I offered to take you home, care to tell me how to get there?"
The smile fell off of the girl's face, as she looked into the cluttered floorboards.
"Just…away from here if you could," she mumbled.
It was Mike's turn to change his look, as a confused mask fell over his face. "Anywhere? Wouldn't you rather take me to where you're living?"
"I don't have a place to live," Kasumi sighed. "I don't have a job, I don't have a house, I don't have…"
She stopped cold when he hand found her shoulder. That warm, inviting smile again found his face.
"Ok, I've got it," he declared.
With the crunch of gravel, the old truck rumbled out of the parking lot and onto the road. Kasumi sat silent as she watched him deftly weave out through traffic and down the highway. He seemed to have a plan in mind, and she just sat quietly, waiting to see where it would end up.
But where they did end up surprised her. The old truck pulled up in front of a surprisingly nice set of apartments. She gingerly stepped out of the truck, leaning against the side for support as she remembered to slam the door shut, then let Mike offer his shoulder to help her. They made their way up a flight of stairs, and to the only door on the balcony. It took him a moment of fumbling with his keys before he was able to unlock the door, which is about the same time she realized where they were.
"This is…yours?"
Mike nodded. "For now at least. The Navy moves us around so much that it's hard to buy a place, but I'll probably stay here for the next two or three years. Maybe longer if I can find another command here when it's time for me to transfer."
The two stepped through the threshold, Mike still helping her to walk.
"Wow," was all she said.
The apartment was enormous by Japanese standards. Most single people lived in a small one or two bedroom apartment. By Japanese standards…this was almost wasteful. They had walked into a living room, with a couch and recliner facing a television recessed into the wall. A small window in the wall looked over a sink and into the small kitchen that looked complete with a full stove and oven. An was back a little ways from there as well. A hallway lead down deeper into the apartment, and there was even another set of stairs that went up to a second floor.
"There's a bathroom down the hallway on the left," Mike explained. "My bedroom is in the back, there's another bedroom across from the bathroom. There's a bathroom upstairs as well, but I haven't decided yet what I'm going to do with that all up there. Maybe rent it out to a roommate. It's got a nice big closet, but there's no doors except to the bathroom, I'd hate for it to get awkward."
Kasumi just stared around her. Even back in her village, the chief's house was not this nicely laid out. Plush carpet covered the entire house, the couch looked large and inviting…
A thud echoed next to her. In staring around, she had stepped away from her sailor, and was leaning quietly against the wall. One of his large, heavy boots was laying on it's side on the floor as he sat on the stairs, unlacing the other.
"If you don't mind," he said as he stood, offering her his place on the stairs, and motioning towards his boots.
In her moment of being baffled by the size of the apartment, she had forgotten her manners. It took her a moment to get her sandal from the foot on her wounded leg, but easily slipped out of the other. Again taking Mike's arm, he led her over to the couch where she could sit. It was like nothing else she had ever been on. Even being the daughter of the head of the clan, she still slept on tatami mats, ate while sitting on the floor, and was all in all very used to "traditional" Japanese culture. Since running from the clan, things had been even harder for her. This couch, however… she felt she could just stay there, revel in its softness forever.
There was a thud in front of her, and she took a moment to stare at the cardboard box.
"Pizza?" he offered. "I can warm it up if you'd like, usually eat mine cold though after I get off a late shift."
She followed his lead, and lifted a slice from the box, sniffing it carefully before taking the tiniest bite out of the end of it. She tried…she tried really hard not to show how hungry she was, but after a second bite, her resolve crumbled. Mike sat there, that gentle smile on his face as he watched her all but inhale three quarters of a pizza. She got down to the last slice, reached for it…stopped… then slid the box his way.
"I have eaten all your food," she apologized quietly, looking down again. "I at least owe you the last piece."
With that smile, he pushed the box back towards her. "I'll find something else. Go ahead."
The offer wasn't refused, although Kasumi did put much more effort into slowing her eating down with this last bit, savoring the food. A brief thought ran through her head that was quickly banished away.
'When will I ever be treated with this level of hospitality again?'
"Umm," she hummed, looking up to where Mike was sitting in the recliner. "Can I trust you?"
The sailor smiled back, leaning back in his seat. "Well I guess that's up to you. I can tell you anything I want, but in the end, it will be your choice anyways."
The Kunoichi nodded, making up her mind. "Mike Kesson," she stated. "I trust you. Please don't tell anyone about this."
Slowly, she unwrapped the bandages from around her thigh, revealing the ugly, scabbed red line where the blade had been in her leg. She looked down at in concentration for a few moments, then her hands flew through a series of strange poses, until a faint green glow rose from her leg. Mike watched in astonishment as the scabs peeled away, and the ugly scar on her leg healed itself up without even a scar.
Kasumi felt heat rushing to her face when she saw that Mike was still staring at her bare leg. "Ummm…"
"SORRY!" he exclaimed, jerking his head away.
"Baaaka," she slipped back to native tongue, her face burning. "L-let me…let me help you too."
Mike didn't know what to say, but the girl was determined to help him, and he honestly hoped it worked as well for him as it just had for her. He carefully shrugged off the top of his uniform, draping it across the arm of the chair, and reached through the hole in his t-shirt to start picking off the bandage taped over his shoulder.
"Y-your…your shirt too…" Kasumi mumbled. "I can't…I'm not good enough to knit your injuries with cloth in the way. Not yet."
Gingerly, he removed his shirt, then peeled the bandage off his shoulder, before starting to unwind the one around his hand. Both wounds were cleanly cut, faint traces of black lines following his veins from the one on his shoulder. She started with his hand, her hands repeating their lightning fast motions, before the glow came from his hand, the wound mending itself right before his eyes.
"Amazing," he mused, watching the process.
She moved from there to his arm the black lines of the poison receding along with the wound vanishing.
"Kasumi," he said. "You are an amazing woman."
"T-thank you," she said quietly. "Just please don't tell anyone."
"There's a bathtub and a shower in the bathroom down the hall and to the left. Help yourself to anything in there, although I do apologize, there's no soap or anything for a beautiful woman like yourself, just what I use."
Kasumi smiled sweetly. "It's ok. I have been… it's been so long, even just water would be amazing. I will try not to use too much of what is yours."
Mike returned the smile, "Go ahead, use all of it if you have to. I have more in the bathroom upstairs, and I can always pick up some more later."
The kunoichi nodded, and for the first time really took in her host. He wasn't bad looking, by any stretch, and his features were quite striking. He obviously took good care of himself, both by military standards and perhaps beyond. His hair was a dark brown, and his eyes…his eyes were this striking ice blue, something rarely seen in her country, and even more so with his dark hair.
She caught herself staring before he noticed, and snapped her head away.
"I'm going to the bath," she squeaked, and started down the hall. She turned once more as she heard him move, and saw him bending over the coffee table, collecting the box and sweeping the crumbs into it. Her breath hitched in her throat as he stood, and she saw his back though.
More than half his back was covered in deep, jagged scars. They ran up his back, barely down the back of his left arm, and down below his belt. Kasumi turned back, and let herself into the bathroom. American baths were much different than they were in Japan. It was very utilitarian, with a sink, a toilet, and a showerhead that pointed down into the bathtub. But she was far from complaining. She dumped her clothing on the floor, but carefully folded the sweatshirt and set it on the corner of the sink.
She had adjusted the water so it was as hot as she could stand it, and by the time she had her hair tied up, she was able to sink into the tub. Again, it wasn't as deep as what she was used to, and she had to bend her legs just to fit into the tub, but as relaxing as the fresh water was she wasn't going to dare even think a complaint.
There was a knock at the door, and she could hear Mike's voice from the other side. "Sorry that I don't have something more for you to wear, but there's a pair of sweats and a t-shirt I think you should be able to make fit outside the door."
She heard him moving down the hall, and allowed herself a smile, genuinely enjoying those for a few blissful minutes.
A/N: I know, rescuing Kasumi has been done far too much. Instead of original ideas though, I'm going for original characters. Another note about how I write, I have a general direction and a grand plan, but I don't follow an outline. My stories have a tendency to write themselves, and I let my fingers guide me as I press towards my goal.
Constructive feedback is always welcome, and I do try to answer any and all questions you might have, whether it's from the next Author's Note, or directly back to you.
Fair winds and following seas to you all!