Weiss Kreuz: Lady Killer 5
by K.Huntsman
released 24 December 1999
Summer.
Aya watered the flowers out front before the day's heat arrived to dry them out. The gardenias especially were looking thirsty this morning. He looked up, over at Magic House, as music drifted out of its open doors. He shut off the water and let his feet take him over to the other shop, where he looked in and saw Shirayuki dusting off the counter. Her voice mingled with the singer's, high and sweet and clear. It made him think of his sister. He didn't recognize the song, but it was in English and sounded like opera. She didn't miss a syllable or note, voice soaring. How could anyone sing like that?
She looked up from her work and the note died away in her throat. "Fujimiya-san," she greeted him instead.
"You sing?" he asked. She nodded and he gestured to the air, to the song drifting in it. "What is this?"
"'Think of Me'."
The name meant nothing to him.
"It's from The Phantom of the Opera. One of my sister's roles was the part of Christine, so I learned it with her." She shook her head and went back to her dusting. "Compared to Kiko's voice, though, mine is an ugly duckling."
"It sounded good," Aya commented.
She gave him a faint smile. "Thank you, Fujimiya-san."
He hesitated, dithering. Ken had been after him to ask her, and Omi had ganged up on him as well, giving him an expectant look with those blue eyes. "...Would you like to come to dinner tonight?" he asked. Her head whipped up and she stared at him. "We're all sharing dishes at my place. Ken and Omi asked me to invite you."
She looked away. "I see." She considered for a moment, then shook her head, her eyes flickering past his. "Thank you for the invitation, Fujimiya-san, but I'm not a charity case. I think it might be easier if I kept my distance...."
He nodded, turning to go, but paused. As with Weiss, he somehow felt a need to try to cross that distance between himself and others. Only, his heart was not clear when dealing with people. He always felt awkward with words. He was only good at saying what he wanted when he wrote it down. "Ken... and Omi... asked," he managed before leaving the doorframe.
Yuki stared at the empty door for a good several minutes before snapping back to reality. She set the duster carefully down on the counter, wishing it was time to close the shop already, instead of just opening it. She didn't want to deal with the day before her and the people and the shop and everything which would expect her to be her sister's name. She sat back on the stool and wrapped her arms around herself. She felt like crying. She wanted to cry. She wanted to close the shop, go upstairs and cry for so long, and then go to sleep and maybe never have to wake.
Why did Kritiker have to assign her to work with others? They knew she didn't... like... people.
Why couldn't she be alone?
//Let me alone,// she called in her mind. //Let me be....//
Her fingers were very gentle, trembling, as they found the button on the CD player and killed its power and the sound of those voices in her store. She shivered, a little better for the silence.
"What do you mean, she refused?!" Ken demanded of Aya.
"She said she wasn't a charity case," Aya replied, not looking up from the red roses he was working on.
"Then... she doesn't want to socialize with us?" Omi asked. He looked hurt and maybe a little worried, Youji noted.
"The female heart is a difficult thing to understand," Youji quipped. "Look, I'm walking down to the corner for a drink. Anyone want anything?"
"A bottle of Ramune," Omi said, digging in his pockets for change.
"And some Men's Pocky for me," Ken added, handing his money over to Youji too.
"Nothing," Aya said, concentrating on the arrangement in front of him.
"I'll be back in a few," Youji said, strolling out the front. The path to the corner store took him past Magic House and he paused to look in the door as he passed. Shirayuki's back was to him as she sat hunched up on the cashier's stool. The lines of her body screamed misery. "Well, then, maybe not," he said softly to himself and walked on.
When he walked past the store on the way back, it was closed.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Omi asked Ken as the four of them stood outside Magician's door that rainy evening, waiting for her to answer.
"Look, Youji said she was miserable, right? And who knows better than Youji how women feel?" Ken retorted. "If she thinks I'm going to let her wallow in it for the rest of the time she's with us, then she's wrong."
"You know, maybe she isn't in," Youji commented, leaning back against the railing.
"She hasn't left the building," Ken declared stubbornly. "I've been watching the stairs all day."
Youji stared up at the raining sky. "Maybe she's asleep."
"Um." Omi bit his lip as Aya watched. "I have an idea... be back in a minute!" He hurried to the stairs, going up instead of down. The three of them who were left glanced at each other, then went after Omi.
They caught up with him at the top of the stairs to the flat roof. Aya stared out into the rain. Omi had been right; Shirayuki was up there in the pouring wet, clothing plastered to her skin, hair pulled back in a high ponytail. The staff in her hands flashed as she worked through an intense kata, fighting an imaginary battle.
"Hey, Omi, how'd you know she was up here?" Ken asked as they listened to the sound of her footsteps and breath under the gray rain.
"She told me she practiced on the roof," Omi answered. "I thought she just meant gymnastics, though. I didn't know she did martial arts as well."
"Figures," Youji said. Aya glanced at him, at the casual arms behind his head, at the cream jacket he wore. "She cross-trained."
"You know who she is, Youji-kun?"
"'Course. Unlike the rest of you, I follow gymnastics. Shirayuki Akayuki is one of the best in Japan. Or she was until she 'died' in a fire in December. She was probably our best shot at the Olympic gold."
Omi looked back at the figure practicing. "That's what she said."
"Do you know what style that is , Youji?" Ken asked, nodding towards Shirayuki. "I don't recognize it."
The playboy pushed his glasses a little higher on his nose and shrugged. "Hard to say. Whatever it is, it's not pure. It looks like she's modified it with her gymnastics training, or maybe some other form."
The kata came to an end. Shirayuki bowed to the gods of the empty roof and then came down the stairs past them. She didn't even look at them as water dripped and puddled off her soaked figure. Her feet were bare. Her eyes were empty.
"Shirayuki-san!"
Ken and Omi scrambled after her, Aya and Youji following at a more sedate pace. They caught up with her outside her apartment, where the door shut behind her, closing them out.
Ten minutes later, there was a knock on Aya's door. When he opened it, Shirayuki stood there, holding a covered white dish between two potholders. She had changed into an oversized gray sweatshirt and black leggings, her black hair now pulled into a damp braid. "May I still join you?" Her voice was subdued. Was it a little hopeful?
"...Yeah." Aya held the door open wider to let her in. His eyes stayed on her as she slipped out of her shoes. Why had she come when before she'd seemed so inclined not to? When even ten minutes ago she'd ignored all of them?
She followed him quietly enough into the dining room, where the others were waiting for him to return before diving into the different dishes they'd made.
They all blinked.
"...If it's all right...?" she asked softly.
Ken grinned. Omi smiled. Youji went to fetch another chair.
* * * * *
"White hunters of the darkness, hunt the tomorrow of these dark beasts." Persia's image vanished off the screen.
Birman pushed herself away from the wall. "Well, are you all in?" she asked, glancing around at the five assassins. They nodded one by one. "I'll leave you to it, then," she concluded and disappeared up the staircase to the flower shop above.
Magician sighed and shifted position on the floor. Her legs uncrossed and straightened out to either side until she was sitting in a perfect center split. "Drug dealers," was her only comment, with a bitter cast to her voice. She seemed unaware that the four of them were nearly wincing at her position.
"Shirayuki-san..." Omi said.
She looked up at him. "Yes, Tsukiyono-san?"
"Um... how can you SIT like that?"
She blinked, then took a quick survey of their faces. There was silence for a moment before she laughed. "You should see yourselves!" she exclaimed. Then she shook her head, turning her face away again. "This position is very comfortable, Tsukiyono-san. A gymnast, or at least this gymnast, must be flexible enough to be a contortionist as well." But she drew her legs back in. "So what now?"
It went easily this time, Aya thought in gratitude, too used to waiting on the edge for things to go wrong. But now the mission was done and they were leaving.
"You! Hold it there! Police!"
His hand tightened around his sword and he would have unsheathed it and killed that last obstacle to their being finished for the night, if not for a sound. A gasp.
"Kouichi-sensei?" Magician asked. Aya gestured to the others while she stood staring at the man who pointed a gun at her. They melted away into darkness, watching, ready.
The man blinked and the mouth of the gun wavered. "...Akayuki-chan?" he asked. The gun lowered and he stepped forward.
A row of darts peppered the ground before his feet and he turned to face their invisible source. By the time he'd turned back, Aya had grabbed Magician and they too hid in shadows. She was tense against him. Who was this man, and how did she know him? Aya schooled himself to patience.
The man stood there for several minutes, obviously waiting for them to reappear. Stupid. That wasn't going to happen. Then he lowered the gun again and called out, "Akayuki-chan! If you can hear me, Migoto! I'll be at Migoto!"
Aya watched as the man left. Only when he was out of sight did he release Magician. "Who is he?" he asked bluntly, looking into her black eyes, where troubles swirled behind the contacts. The others waited, listening.
She shook her head, biting her lip. "Not here. I'll tell you once we get home."
By the time Weiss had finished their showers and come down to the Underworld, Akayuki had framed the pieces of the encounter together. Aya was the last to come down the winding staircase, and his orchid eyes demanded an explanation all the way.
"His name is Kouichi Kousuke," she said. "He was my gymnastics coach for nearly six years, until his wife died. She was shot in a robbery, and he went into the police force at that time. He's a good man."
Aya nodded, but the intensity of his eyes did not dim.
"What's 'Migoto'?" Youji asked from where he leaned against a wall.
"A cafe near the training hall we worked at."
"...What do you intend to do?" Aya asked, his voice steel velvet.
Akayuki shrugged. "For now, beg Tsukiyono-san for a favor. For tomorrow, go to the cafe and find out what Kouichi-sensei knows and intends."
"Favor?" Omi asked.
She held her hands up, letting him see her fingertips. "Because it was so easy to say that I'd died in that fire as well, Kritiker didn't erase my data. My fingerprints are still in the computers." Her eyes were level on his; this was important. "Now that Kouichi-sensei knows that I'm still alive, he may try to access information on me, try to use it. It needs to vanish."
Omi nodded, his eyes serious and understanding. He went to one of the computers and began his work.
"Tch, Kritiker isn't doing their job," Youji complained.
"It's not their fault, Kudou-san," Akayuki said softly, staring into nothing. Aya's eyes were still on her, still disapproved of her, still held that note of distaste in their wisteria flame. "I wasn't supposed to be a problem." She shook her head and went towards the stairs.
A hand caught her arm. She looked down at Ken where he sat on the sofa. "And if Kouichi-san becomes a problem?" he asked. Was it compassion that was in his eyes? "What will you do?"
She stared down at him for a moment, emotions swirling. "I don't know," she finally responded, then left.
Kouichi was waiting for her, nursing a cup of coffee. She studied him from the back and wondered how long he'd been waiting. All day, perhaps? How long would he have continued to wait if she hadn't come? She didn't let her thoughts cross her face.
"Kouichi-sensei," she said softly. He started and half-rose from his seat. She took the one across from him. She was wearing a short white dress and a red jacket and had no doubt Aya was watching her. "Lemon tea, please," she asked the waitress.
Kouichi was looking at her in wonder. "It really is you," he said. "Last night--I wasn't sure. That makeup.... I thought you were dead."
She didn't want him asking her the questions he was leading to. "How have you been?" she asked instead. "Did you get your promotion?"
"I did. I'm a lieutenant now." His brown eyes were studying her, disbelieving, drinking her in. "You look good. Are you still working on that handstand trick?"
"Still," she said, nodding. The tea arrived and she poured the hot water on top of the tea bag in the cup.
"...Akayuki-chan," he said, and it was coming, the questions were definitely coming, "what were you doing at the Azumi Corporation last night?"
She didn't answer, stirred the bag in her tea, waited for him to continue.
"There was a man killed there last night, you know. A good man, with a wife and two daughters. His bodyguards were also killed."
//That "good man" trafficked in poisons,// she thought.
"He was an upstanding pillar of the community, and now he's dead. Please tell me you didn't have anything to do with that, Akayuki-chan!"
She took the bag out of her tea, set it aside on the saucer. "Do you think I did?" she asked, and caught sight of Aya sitting at a table not far away. He didn't trust her, that much was in his eyes as she caught them. She raised the cup to her lips and her eyes flickered back to her teacher, her friend.
"I don't want to," he replied, shaking his head. "But those four young men you were with... they were responsible for it, weren't they? And the other murders."
"Other murders?" she asked aloud.
He opened a briefcase and took out a folder, sliding it across the table to her. She abandoned her tea and opened the file. It was filled with black and white 8x10 matte photographs, paper-clipped to autopsy reports. The styles were familiar. She flipped through photographs of katana wounds, the marks of garotte wires, bodies shot through with arrows or poisoned with darts, or shredded by the claws of a certain kitten she knew. There were even a couple photographs of her own work, dark bruises from the staff, and a single shot of Kougawa as he'd lain dead in the snow outside his own home. She closed the folder and pushed it back across the table to him.
"We figure it's the work of a mercenary group," he said. "Some of the people they kill we would love to be able to get our hands on. But others, like Azumi-san, are their innocent victims!" His face was twisted with rage and anguish. "Please, Akayuki-chan, if you know anything about the perpetrators of these crimes...."
"No," she said, shaking her head. "Your so-called 'innocent victims' are as much criminals as the others. They're the ones you can't find, the ones who hide too well. Azumi... he headed an organization which marketed Ecstasy, Euphoria, and other designer drugs on the street."
He stared at her. "Akayuki-chan--"
She met his eyes. "I am part of that group you tried to stop last night. Some of this," and she gestured at the folder, "is my work."
He'd gone pale now. "Wh-what did they do to you?" he asked. "What did they promise you? Turn away... walk away. I can protect you. I promise. Tell us who they are, where they hide...."
Her eyes remained on his, regretting, oh how keenly, the look which crept into his eyes. Did he know nothing of the truth of the world? "Sensei, no one did anything to me. This is a choice I made after a criminal took the life of everyone I loved yet remained free from the system. Didn't you make a similar choice after your wife died? You have always been a good man, and a good judge of character. Am I so weak that I would be turned by a few words? Am I so dishonest that I would lie to you now?" She studied him. "Ask yourself, Sensei, if I am telling you the truth. I am one of those who walks outside the law and punishes criminals you cannot reach." She stood and tossed a few hundred yen onto the table for the tea. "Do not ask me to betray my compatriots to you, because I will not. Please, drop this hunt you have for us, because otherwise I will not be able to protect you. I hope, for the sake of how long and how well I have known you, that our paths do not cross again, Sensei. You are a good man, and I have no wish to see you dead."
Magician gained a few seconds' start on the police officer as he stared at her, flabbergasted, and that had allowed her to vanish before he ran out the door of the cafe after her. Maybe that was why she was codenamed Magician instead of the cat breeds or flower types Kritiker preferred to use for its operatives. Aya followed a few minutes later and waited for her to reappear. He wasn't disappointed.
"Did you mean what you told him?" he asked.
Her eyes lifted to his. "I have chosen my lot," she replied, defiant, "and I am not a traitor." She turned and walked away, in the direction of the train station.
Aya watched after her, considering, then eventually walked in the same direction.
Omi collapsed back into the embrace of the sofa and yawned. "Done," he announced to Aya and Shirayuki, who were both down in the Underworld at the moment. "You were right--he did try to access your data. I had to wait until he was out of your files to delete them."
She knelt before him, a smile gentling her eyes. "Thank you," she said. "I owe you one."
"You're one of us now," Omi replied, dismissing her sentiment.
The Magician's eyes became distant. "No, I'm not," she replied. "Weiss is Weiss, and Magician is Magician, alone." Complex things spilled through her, and he didn't understand them all. Then she looked back at him and those things were gone. "In any case, I do owe you. And thank you."
Omi and Aya watched after her as she climbed the steps up out of the Underworld. "Sometimes she acts like she likes us, then sometimes she acts like she doesn't," he murmured. "Do you think she's our friend or not, Aya-kun?" Omi asked.
The redhead frowned. "She doesn't know how to be one," was his response. Omi watched as he too left, then sighed and flopped back down onto the couch.
Another night. Another mission.
Magician gave the man in front of her a quick kiss, too tired to even make it worthwhile.
//That's not good,// she chided herself. //Put passion into your work! If they're going to die, at least let the kiss they take into the afterlife be a memorable one!//
She retrieved her staff from the floor as he started to choke, and ran after Siberian. //You're slow tonight, Magician. And you thought you could make the Olympics? You're out of shape!//
//I'm distracted,// she replied to herself, waiting with the others for Bombay to crack the code on the door so they could get out and go home free. Abyssinian and Balinese guarded their backs, weapons held as they watched the hallway behind the five of them. She should have worn her perfume tonight, let them be sure that they'd made a clean sweep of the building. But she was running low on the counter-poison pills and had to wait until she got some more.
A spark flashed at the panel Bombay was working on, and the doors slid open.
Free, the five of them went out into the night air. Behind them, the last explosives went off.
The sirens were close.
"Tch!" Balinese said. "They must have gotten out a signal before Omi cut the phone lines!"
"Run," Abyssinian said. "We don't need this."
Siberian and Bombay nodded, and they all disappeared. Except Magician. She waited. There was someone she had come to see.
He pointed a gun at her back as greetings. "Turn around," he said tersely.
She obeyed. "Sensei."
"Another good man. His company." Kouichi's voice trembled and rose in anger. "WHY, Akayuki-chan?!"
"Because he deserved to die," she said softly, meeting his eyes. She shook her head, sadly. "You don't believe me, do you?" The Abyssinian would not forgive if she let her teacher, her friend, live. He'd kill the man himself. He would eliminate the threat to Weiss.
"I can't," Kouichi said, shaking. "To believe that brings down all that I've believed in, worked for!"
"No." She took a step closer to him. "To believe me means you believe in people, believe that there are those of us who give up everything to make it right. Please say you believe in me, in that justice."
He shook his head. He couldn't, she could see that. Kouichi was too honest, too good. He believed in law too much. Aya would kill him, or she would.
He didn't believe her. He would continue his hunt until the end.
"Please," she whispered, "let us go. We are not the creators of the darkness in which we dwell." His hand tightened on the gun, firmed. She met his eyes, and saw in them no belief in her, only in his law.
"Sensei..." she whispered, bowing her head.
She would have to kill him. She could not, would not, betray Weiss to the danger he presented. That fact wrenched at her gut, tore at her soul. But it did not change.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, raising her eyes to his, her face set. Hands tightened on her staff. The only thing she could do was make his a fast death.
"Lieutenant!" A younger officer ran up, interrupting. "Sir! We've discovered heroin on the premises! Lots of it! The captain said to fetch you, sir!"
"...Heroin?!" The gun lowered and he looked at the younger man, who couldn't see her from where he stood. "Are you sure?"
"Positive, sir!"
"Tell the captain I'll be right there."
The man ran off and she looked up. Kouichi looked like he'd been slapped. His eyes were hollow, echoing. Akayuki studied him for one minute, then turned to go. "I hope we will not meet again, Sensei," she said. "I haven't lied to you. But you have made your choice of what you believe in."
"Akayuki-chan--"
"Akayuki died in that fire," she said, still walking away. "Her family, her dreams, everything burned. That girl died then. Whoever is left... is only Magician."
The others faded out of the shadows and walked with her, walked away from the burning building and the crumbling policeman who stood behind them.
He wouldn't be a threat anymore.
In the end, he'd been forced, against his will, to believe her.
She wondered whether or not to cry.
In the end, she didn't.
Because there had been, for the briefest moment, approval in Aya's eyes.
Back to Chapter 4 On to Chapter 6 Weiss Kreuz fanfiction page Send comments to author