WARNING: Death, blood, violence, murder, moderate bad language.

The Weeping Amazon

Kiki was quite far away from Jamir that day, going down a sidewalk with the Pegasus Cloth on the back. As much as he felt jarred by the city folk, the city folk were jarred by his clothes and atypical appearance. Urban life was largely alien to the boy, so he was lucky that he crossed streets unscathed, and that he walked only through the quieter areas of the city. He was supposed to be close to the destination based on his notes, yet found himself lost, thus he approached an old man sitting on a bench by a park. "Excuse me, mister," he said, and the man was taken aback by his hair and the markings on his forehead. "Could you tell me where to find the Kido Mansion?"

The old man nodded. Of course a strange kid like that had to be involved with the Saint freaks from the Galaxian Wars, he thought. "Yes, yes, you are quite close in fact…"

Having been informed of the remaining way there, Kiki finally arrived in front of the Kido Mansion's stately gate. "Woah, this house is even bigger than the other ones around here!" He dug fingers between the iron and looked inside carefully to search for signs of someone. "This is definitely the place. Hey, Shiryu's friend!" he yelled and clapped. "Hello? Shiryu's friend!"

Despite all the noise he made, no signs of a response came from inside. It could be that the place was too big for them to hear him, so he imagined it to be no big deal entering despite the locked entrance. "Guess I'll have to fly in," he muttered with a pout.

Kiki took the Cloth box off and stepped on it, shoes well-planted on the metal. The boy breathed and lifted each hand to the side, beginning to levitate the container under him. In that situation, he surfed all the way over that tall gate, keeping balance and being extremely careful, as his telekinesis was neither as strong nor as refined as Mu's.

To his dismay, someone did notice him from the window and ran to the door — it was Tatsumi, who had to ensure his eyes didn't deceive him before he believed that sight. "Eeeeh? Intruder! Intruder!" he screamed ever louder, shutting the door and running into the mansion to get the Saints.

"W-what? Oh… AAAH!" The distracted Kiki lost balance and fell down with the box all the way to the floor, from a height tall enough to give him a couple scratches. "Ooow! Damn it! What's up with that guy?"

Seiya and Jabu were the first two to answer, running all the way back with Tatsumi. "It's…" Jabu said and stared stupefied "… it's just a kid, Tatsumi!"

"That boy just floated over the gate on that box! Get him!"

Seiya's eyes opened wide at the sight of the box. "Wait a minute, that's the Pegasus Cloth!" He ran over and completely ignored the kid, hugging the box with endearment. "Aaah, I missed you so much! I can't wait to put you on again and beat those…"

"Hey!" Kiki straightened up and crossed the arms grumpily. "So you're Shiryu's friend. You should at least thank me for the delivery, don't you think?"

"Oh, yeah, thanks. That was cool," Seiya replied awkwardly. "Where's Shiryu though?"

"Well, it's a long story."

Kiki was brought into the dining hall, and some other Saints, who had been alerted needlessly by Tatsumi, arrived to listen to Shiryu's situation. Saori came as well, and was certain to give the boy a sweet for his long trip, a fat slice of lemon pie which he had not yet eaten.

"I see…" Seiya sighed, sitting on a chair opposite Kiki "… so you didn't know if Shiryu was going to make it when you left."

"I don't know. My master is the one who repaired your Cloth, and he stopped the bleeding as well. We were taking care of your friend, but he said there was a good chance he could die." The kid could barely hold back, grabbing the spoon and diving to take the first bite.

Seiya turned to Shun, June, Hyoga, and Jabu, who stood right behind him. "Shiryu went that far to help us…"

"What will we do?" Shun asked.

"Jabu, as we had planned before, you will take Shiryu's place if he doesn't show up in time," said Seiya.

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking."

"But isn't it dangerous for you with a damaged Cloth?" Shun continued.

"It is, but it's better than nothing."

Seiya tightened a fist near the chest, the image of Shiryu coming to mind. He was overwhelmed by the same sense of duty that possessed Dragon in Jamir. "Whatever happens, we can't let Shiryu's effort go to waste. Let's do our best!" he said.

"Yes!"

Beside them, Kiki was delighted by the taste of that sweet. "W… wow! What even is this?" he ecstatically stammered before going for another bite.

Saori smiled kindly, leaning by him in her office dress. "That is lemon pie. Do you like it?" she said.

"Of course! This is amazing!" He devoured the piece with giant spoonfuls, barely giving time for the last piece to be swallowed in his mouth. "Sheesh… can I have more, Miss Saori?"

"Brat, calling her by her first name! Have some respect!" Tatsumi interjected.

However, Saori only giggled and didn't mind, responding with a tiny nod and saying: "I will get you another piece."

Shiryu didn't arrive in the end, and on the scheduled day of the challenge, the Saints had no option if not to go without him. They loaded up a white minibus with the Cloth boxes; the vehicle was large enough to take that and the Bronze Saints themselves, Tatsumi occupying the driver's seat. With a wave goodbye to Saori and everything ready, the excursion to Aokigahara was on.

That sea of trees at the foot of Mt. Fuji was a knavish place; one who entered recklessly could wander lost until the world outside became a distant memory, or so it was said. The Ten Wind Caves, however, penetrated the lowest slopes of the mountain, believed to cut its way far up through the rocky formations, as it did below. The only way to find their better known entrances was between the forest's trees, and thus Tatsumi stopped at a parking lot near it.

The eight Saints were brave when entering the forest, carrying pieces of the Gold Cloth and the boxes on their backs. Tatsumi, who accompanied them for good measure, was the only one afraid of the many legends that haunted the area.

They stopped in a decent spot to watch over the situation, from where Nachi, Ichi, and Geki would act in case of a trap. "You three stay behind with Tatsumi and keep your eyes open," Jabu ordered them.

"Understood!"

Shun pulled out an assortment of little sleigh bells from his pocket, distributing it to the other four who would enter the caverns. "Take this. I have heard the cave systems are complex, so we should be able to find each other by the jingling sound if we ever get lost," he suggested.

Taking his own and attaching it to the hem of his pants, Seiya said: "That's a good idea. You're always coming up with useful stuff, Shun!"

The boy gave a smile back, and once they started going to one of the openings in the distance, Tatsumi pressured them some more: "You'd better come back with all those pieces, or you'll regret this, you hear me?"

Seiya threw a hand up. "Ah, Tatsumi, shut up or we'll make you suffer an accident!" he yelled without as much as looking back.

The Saints laughed, yet Tatsumi wasn't as happy to hear what he interpreted as a credible threat. "What did you just say? Insolent pest!" No one seemed to mind his rambling any longer.

Passing that misty entrance to the Ten Wind Caves set the tone for how things would be within. They were introduced with a deep winding corridor that eventually bloomed into a darker, dry area, lit only by natural slots at the very top. Facing them were multiple exits, some going down, some going straight, and not all of them appearing as viable.

"Looks like this is where we separate," June said and set her Cloth box down.

"For sure."

"Alright, let's put on our Cloths," Seiya said. "If we can't find any Dark Saint, we'll meet here again."

The remaining Dark Saints came together around Ikki at a deeper, higher chamber of the caverns, one of them wearing a so far unseen black Pegasus Cloth. "The time has come," said Ikki, "go after them, give them no quarter. By the end of this day, we should have not only the Sagittarius Cloth, but their Bronze Cloths to boot. Do not fail us." He slammed a fist into a palm to shout: "Go!" The other five warriors moved out quickly, scattering each to take a different direction down the exits. There was fury in Phoenix's eyes, no more of the sarcasm of his encounter with Shun. "And this is just the start. After we are done here, I will personally take the life of Saori Kido and that Tatsumi. They will be reduced to ashes alongside their past sins."

Seiya, now in his newly-repaired Cloth, had taken a path parallel to the mountain's edge, such that cracks to the open sky shone light into it. Holding onto the two shoulders of the Gold Cloth, he was just getting used to being armored again after a little long. "So far this feels just like before, when it was brand new. Kiki's master must be a great blacksmith!" he said to himself.

Not too far from there he heard the sound of boots clanking over rock, so he squinted and softened his steps to the next opening. Shadows moved suspiciously in a grand hall of stalactites and stalagmites, and it didn't take long for one shape in particular to step forward, that being a pale man with dark brown eyes and medium black hair who donned the pieces of the false Pegasus Cloth, its metal as pitch black as the others'. "Pegasus. Glad to see you fixed your Cloth," he said with a smirk.

"Huh, so there were more copycats than the ones they saw at the mansion. You're the one who wants to be me," responded Seiya. The man seemed annoyed at that assumption, so he let his own piece of the Gold Cloth fall to the ground, a single gauntlet and nothing else. "Just one part?" Pegasus dropped his own. "That's not fair, but I'll beat you up and get it anyway."

"If believing that makes you feel better about yourself, go on. Misguided beliefs won't matter once you're dead!" Denying any possible reply, Dark Pegasus ran in, and Pegasus punched his fist away, causing shock waves that sent some dust up and echoes down the hallways. They traded powerful blows with their hands, always defending one and following with one their own, until Seiya hit him square in the cheek, which sent him flailing against a pillar.

"I take that back! My Cloth feels better than ever!" he claimed, though Dark Pegasus had run straight at him once more. His attacks now were so unstoppable and hasty that Seiya had to move back and try to kick him off. This evolved into a wildly faster ordeal, the two skidding across nearby tunnels beyond the speed of sound at times, and rarely standing their ground without having to bounce afar as a form of defense.

The muddle they caused had repercussions throughout the labyrinth, reaching June's ears, who was looking through a higher and lighter section, walls spaced wider and ceiling placed taller than where Seiya found himself in. She paused for a moment and placed her hair behind an ear. "Sounds like someone started fighting already. I gotta keep my eyes peeled," she thought.

The amazon kept going forward, although eventually it was clear to her that the minute crackling and sliding she heard was out of the ordinary, perking her attention. Thankfully for her, she knew exactly the direction of its source once focused.

Abruptly she crouched, and a mass appeared flying over her. With finesse, the girl dropped the gold boot she had under an arm and jumped with a heavy kick at the threat, hard enough that its momentum summed with it to launch the person both upwards and forwards. Nonetheless, the attacker landed safely after a twist in the air, letting go of a gauntlet of Sagittarius. It was Dark Chameleon, made more obvious by the whip revealed from her raised hand. "As on the edge as you've always been, June," she said, eyeing her with pure hatred, "but so am I."

June slid her whip behind and looked intently at the face of the one ahead of her. "So it really is you, Filia. As always, refusing to wear a mask. Seems neither of us has changed," she commented.

Dark Chameleon growled: "To hell with those rules, we both know how senseless they are!" She skipped on and threw the tip of her whip at June, who had no trouble dodging to the side and advancing all at once. The two clashed whips a couple times, Filia attempting to keep her foe distant, and June undoing the range ever so diligently.

Arriving at her enemy, June swung with the whip's handle, and the other one held it in her left hand, slowly beating her strength. Before that happened, a kick was planted into Filia's breastplate, which slid her boots back. She didn't leave that unattended, cracking the whip at June's neck and breaking skin down to a shallow cut, which the girl grabbed with the free hand.

"Somehow I'm still surprised…" Chameleon talked and kept on advancing, shortening the space behind her enemy. She whipped in a cross pattern, first from right to left, then from left to right. "… that you're with those… people!" She whipped sideways at her exposed face, forcing Filia to roll further back. "What's it about? Tell me the catch."

"The catch is that I agree with the Dark Saints' mission word for word."

"And what's your mission anyway?"

"To take every Cloth from Sanctuary and use the Cosmos for our own desires."

June shook her head and couldn't help but spit out a laugh. Filia's expression turned sour again. "Really? That's a cartoon villain speech, Filia! I'm disappointed in you, but I don't know what else I expected."

"Shut up!" Dark Chameleon shouted and disappeared in dust to throw herself at June, who jumped off at a similar velocity, twirling to spin the whip as a shield against the many of Filia's attacks. Reaching ground, she violently denied the other's weapon one last time before she gave up. "Don't… don't you see, June? Saints are slaves to Athena! All those who serve the gods are made into inoffensive cattle."

"Again with this."

"You are! You're all just pawns in the games of the gods."

"I am no slave. I serve Athena because I chose to do so!"

"Even if you did, ask yourself what would happen if you suddenly decided not to. You'd be hunted down by Sanctuary, and then what?"

June slid the whip and threw her hair back in preparation, losing nerve. "Why am I listening to a murderer anyway?"

"Wait! Don't you find it strange that as soon as a human achieves greatness, the gods find a way to strip them of desire?" Filia walked backwards to have more time to talk. "You're forced to live and die for them and nothing else. They won't allow humanity to serve itself!"

"Athena fights for humanity above all, always has! You're the one who fights a selfish fight."

"No. No god can fight for humanity. Only humanity can fight for itself, and humans are mere flies without desire," Filia went on. "With power and desire, we can raise humans to the status of the gods; we can demand our fair share from them!"

"A murderer and a megalomaniac… the world is lucky you never had the chance of getting this Cloth."

To that Filia had nothing but contempt, assuming a fighting position once more and grabbing the whip in both hands. "Not for long. Today I'll make the Chameleon Cloth mine, and the Sagittarius Cloth ours!" she said.

Exhausted of her inane rambling, June reignited their combat, but both were much more vigorous than before, Filia's reaction being a palm strike so hard it robbed her of her breath. When Dark Chameleon came fast for another hit, June spun with a foot to her unassuming temple, throwing her against a nearby stalagmite and cracking its top to pieces.

With a scream, Filia tried to tackle her, but June preferred to flip back and whip her from a distance, forcing the first to skip aside. Chameleon then kicked off a rock wall, flew to her enemy again, missed a punch, and got punished with a foot to the upper back. She flipped forwards and, lying on her side from the floor, whipped once she noticed Filia leap at her, a useless defense she followed with a desperation kick.

June flipped back to her feet and paced at Filia, glancing off each swing of her whip with a swing of her own, and as soon as she felt close enough, she gained ground with a slick front aerial, a whip to her exposed face, and a forward slide. Up close, she put all of her Cosmos into a palm heel strike to Dark Chameleon's lower chest, making her stumble back and crash onto a boulder.

No time was given for her to recompose. In an apparent hurry, June came up with marching steps and kicked her just as hard across the chin when Filia's detestable smile came to view. Only then did she pause.

Dark Chameleon munched on something and spewed some blood, turning with an ugly bruise growing on her olive skin. "You win again," she said, June's shadow looming over her. "Go ahead, avenge your friend. Don't waste your chance this time. There's no one to stop you."

That swiftly did June outstretch her whip arm to the side, but then she turned down her head to the floor, taking a moment. At first Filia felt certain that she met her end, and then the seconds passed, and she had a memory of the last time the two of them were in that situation. She couldn't let it pass now, so she mocked her: "See, you're not capable of doing it! Physically strong, mentally weak — you're not a true amazon, let alone a Saint!"

It was undeniable that June was a true Saint like any true Saint, but perhaps there had been someone back in Paximadia who would've excelled at Sainthood even compared to her. This amazon was the root of the two's conflict, and she was June's closest friend once upon a time.

The Paximadia were two tiny pieces of land to the south of Crete, one believed to be the birthplace of Artemis, Goddess of the Moon; the other believed to be the birthplace of Apollo, God of the Sun. In the first, only women were allowed past its beach, where a camp had been set up ages ago. A lot of the training of the Paximadian amazons took place in Crete or in the Greek wilds, however, most of their teaching was done in the limited boundary of that island, including games the girls played among themselves.

Earlier in the day of the murder, June participated in one of such games, hopping and running around whatever place she could find to escape a drove of colleagues. In those years, her mask bore no markings or heavy signs of use. The hunters threw nets, whips, and hurled their bodies at her, but she slipped off every single time. Failure came only at the surprising tackle of a dark-skinned woman with curly brown hair tied behind her head.

June struggled between groans, but had to admit she was stuck under her weight and grip. "It had to be you again!" she lamented. The other amazon laughed, and June chortled too. Other masked girls joined near them right after.

"Only Delina can catch this slippery Finnish fish," a younger, short-haired amazon commented.

"You guys would catch her more often if you practiced your gymnastics," Delina said, getting off June and offering her a hand.

A taller amazon closed in, this one an actual Saint, her straight brown hair brushed all the way back. "She's not wrong," the woman said, "so pay attention. I feel that when we look at Delina, we look at the future Chameleon Saint. I can't see anyone else winning the next Wild Hunt at this stage."

"You're jumping the gun, master." June gave a playful push to her friend's shoulder. "I'm getting just as good, and unlike her, I don't mind killing animals." The other girls laughed, Delina doing so in jeer.

They were making their way back to camp, where envious green eyes stealthily watched them on the way, those being Filia's. She had her mask in hands, yet did not wear it at the time. Once the Saint passed by her, she got another warning: "Put that mask on, Filia. You're not here on vacation." She begrudgingly complied.

At times there may be a point where envy ages so poorly in a bitter soul that it grows into terrifying deeds, and with this case it was no different. Filia came to the conclusion that she would bring Delina down to everyone else's level, if not lower. In her mind, her own effort should've earned her the Chameleon Cloth; she believed she deserved it, and that amazon was her greatest obstacle to acquire it.

It was in that night she equipped a hunting bow, a dagger, and several arrows, one bearing serrations on the sides. Near sleep time, when the girls were bound to follow to their tents, she sneaked through the camp's darkness and crept after her target, readying a shot.

Once the serrated arrow was released, in that tranquil quietude, a trained ear like Delina's certainly heard it. Trying to escape it was impossible at that moment, however, and she was nevertheless hit in the back of the calf, the tip piercing all the way through muscle to the other side. "Damn it…" Filia muttered, disappointed at the arrow's landing.

Delina screamed and faltered, pointing her body to the source of the sound. "Aaaagh! Hey… hey, you!" Knowing she would be in trouble, Filia attempted an escape; perhaps she'd disappear in the shadows and mix in with the girls going to bed. That was to no avail, as her victim, as injured as she was, had no qualms running after her.

Injured or not, Delina reached her assailant and dove at her, pulling on her thick linen leotard. The wound worsened with that vigor, but she wouldn't let it go so easily. The two began ground fighting with scratches and punches, but eventually the victim made it for Filia's throat, choking her without much of a thought in her dazed mind. "Let me… go…" the other could barely speak with her airways so blocked.

"I hate you, Filia! I hate you!" Delina growled, and her foe grabbed her hair from behind with force, distributing her face with punches until both were equally maskless, but she wouldn't let go. Her brown eyes glimmered with tears of anger, and her teeth gritted openly. "They'll expel you for this, you whore!"

"Let me… GO!" Filia pulled the dagger from the scabbard around her thigh and now distributed stabs instead of fists, which finally yielded a reaction. Delina curled her arms in defense, but nothing interrupted the assault that succeeded that, piercing her on and on. Much blood stained her clothes and painted her dark skin, exacerbated by how she swung arms to stop the attacker.

"I HATE YOU!" she kept screaming, no reason left in her. All she could imagine was how the flesh would heal with every stab taken, the sequels to her struck leg, the pain of recuperation, whether she would be capable of Sainthood after all. This filled her with pure rage towards that girl, someone whom she never witnessed achieve much through talent and effort alone. "I HATE YOU, FILIA! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!" The turmoil caught attention of many amazons, and Filia stepped up, Delina now agonizing on the ground.

The girl thought of fleeing, especially since her master was sure to arrive in seconds, but there was no escaping so many witnesses in an island this small. What was she to do, swim all the way to Crete? The stupidity of her plan dawned on her, how envy had blinded her, robbed her of her twisted success. Too afraid to look at anyone's eyes, she let the dagger slide from her bloodied hand and paced in a beeline to her tent.

Many amazons hurried to care for Delina's wounds, although it was unlikely she'd make it while stuck in the island. June soon came, crouched next to her, then listened to her friend's revolted rambling before losing all sense of reason. "Filia tried to injure me…" she cried "… she did this! She did this! It's not fair! Why? Why?"

Behind the mask, June's stare fell blank. She mechanically stood and followed Filia. The ones who noticed worried further. "June, wait!" said a colleague, words into deaf ears. Young amazons were not known to solve their struggles with diplomacy.

"What did you just do, huh?" June yelled at Filia, who was yet to leave her quiver in the tent. There was no response; the one she hunted seemed as emotionless as before. "You murderer!" A punch hit Filia square in the chin, and she tried to push June away with brute force. Although this came as successful, the battle was on and her enemy wouldn't hold back.

Filia tumbled lightly with another punch, then slammed June's head loudly with her forearm, dropping her mask in the violence. Therewith the other's blows accelerated to an unremitting degree, drawing blood from her nose and bringing both to the ground, June on top and ready to continue the beatdown.

The other amazons pulled June up, barely able to contain her swinging arms. With enough force, the girl got released from her colleagues' grasp, yet chose not to continue. "June, if you kill her, master will expel you too!" someone said.

And she wasn't wrong; the Saint sure appeared, having seen Delina's situation beforehand. "Stand down, June. You already put it out of your system. She'll be leaving the island first thing in the morning," the woman told her. "If she tries anything else by then, everyone will have a go at her."

June panted with rage, tightened fists shivering in search of self-control. When Filia stared up at her with her nose tilted and skin ruddy, she saw a tantrum rather than a fearless huntress: small pale lips with a delicate pout; a slightly upturned, freckled nose; and shapely gray eyes under dispersed eyebrows. Below her bags, two long streaks of tears ran like rivers over salient cheeks, then side by side with that tapered chin.

A year later, it was those tears she painted in red on her mask, the bloody weep for a young friend killed over envy and naught else. "Delina was going to become the Chameleon Saint," she said. "Not you, not me, but Delina. If we had her in my place, these wouldn't be your last moments; she was kind to her prey. In respect to her, I shouldn't hand you a deathblow."

Filia scoffed and scorned her. "I told you, you're weak! Weak!"

"But…" June's whip hand turned in preparation "… I'm not doing this in respect to anyone. I'm not doing this in her memory or to ease my mourning, as it won't…" for an instant it seemed her voice would break, but it returned clean and sure of itself like before "... it can't. I'm doing this because I'm without mercy, Filia. You're my enemy, and my enemy's life is mine to take."

It became clear to her rival now; she knew how they had been taught, the maxims held by amazons, the violence which they were trained to enact. Mirrored on the ways of female Saints, their masked faces hid their light away from the atrocities they had to commit in justice's name. June, fit for Sainthood, somehow incorporated this unrelenting carnage perfectly, and so only one could leave that chamber alive. Seeing how it all devolved so rapidly, her foe turned away and tightened the eyelids, awaiting death's blackout. Something impacting the rocks grabbed her attention, and when she dared stare, she saw a fallen mask.

"Look me in the eyes," June ordered. "A female Saint is allowed to offer the sanctity of her face to the one whose life she'll end." It was Dark Chameleon who hesitated now. "Look me in the eyes, coward!" She looked. There were no tears, no vacillation, no uncertainty, only fearsome anger. Those were the eyes of a huntress to a fallen prey, those of a fully-fledged amazon. She could not tell, however, if she truly met the expression of a womanly Saint. Holiness, it seemed, was too out of Filia's grasp to ensure. "RAZOR WHIP!"

Curtains of blood splattered over the rocks. No sound escaped Filia's throat; from thereon, it was silent.