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It was overcast by night time.
“Bye,” Yura said and then the front door of her house closed. Kochiro started away.
“Well, it’s time to go home now-”
“Kochiro-kun.”
Kochiro stopped walking and turned around, “what…” he stopped. Shimazu’s expression was sternly solemn and Kochiro was taken off guard but then he caught himself, and repeated his question. “What.”
“We have to talk. About what happened last night.”
“Nothing happened last night,” Kochiro replied, twisting his face away. “Nothing happened.”
“Well, we’re going to have to talk about that nothing whether we want to or not.” Shimazu’s amethyst eyes shone sharp when there was a break in the clouds. “This is important and bigger than you, or me, and I have to figure it out before things happen.”
“…” Kochiro’s eyes too looked like sapphire daggers when the moon broke through and his face was just as steely.
“Let’s move away from Yura’s house.”
Cllk cllk cllk cllk cllk cllk. Wsssswsshhh. They walked six blocks from Yura’s vicinity in silence then stopped in unrehearsed unison, facing ahead.
“What does the L. D. Angel want with you?” Shimazu started bluntly.
“I don’t know.”
“How do you know each other?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you telling the truth.”
“I don’t… “Kochiro gnashed his teeth. He turned around and glared straight up at Shimazu. “What are you trying to get at Shimazu.”
“There’s no need to get so furious really. It’s just that lots of things are going on on the upper decks that aren’t tying properly with what’s going on here.”
“I don’t care what’s going on with you people.”
“But what’s going on above will eventually trickle down to here.”
“And what can I do about that!?”
“Kochiro-kun…” Shimazu shook his head slowly, “you really want to have a part, don’t you?”
“Leave me out of your royal pains.” Kochiro spun back.
Shimazu didn’t say anything for a while, trying to think of the best way to express himself as the morbid grey clouds rolled overhead. At least Kochiro was still there, that counted for something. “Kochiro-kun, I’m going to be straight-forward with you, there is an elite group of officers who are trying to stop the L. D. Angels from doing whatever they are doing. These officers have full authority, and have for some reason, decided to track me… but only to get to my ‘accomplices’. They’ll kill them.” He raised his brows to relay the message, “and of course, you don’t want to get tied in with the L. D. Angels either.”
“What do you want, Shimazu,” still bitter with resentment, “I told you, I don’t know anything.”
“Help me instead, as an outside third party.”
“… “
“There must be a reason why the Angel was after you. Tell me something about your history.”
Kochiro bristled again, “I was born, grew up, and am going to die,” he turned back to Shimazu, “if nothing else I live by as a puppet with limited free will, is not to trust a High Decker.”
“Uh..?”
“So, you were using us.”
“Hmmm,” Shimazu contemplated, “you volunteered info and assistance and I enjoyed myself with you as normal companions would. You were helping me is all.”
“Yeah right… playboy.”
“Hm?” Shimazu blinked, then gave a Chibi smile, oohhh “I honestly didn’t know you felt that way but it’s not like that either…” He lifted his hand and put his flat on the top of Kochiro’s head. “Okay..??”
Lightning. Still.
Shimazu opened his eyes, it was as though lightning was running through his body, his mouth was slightly agape. Where was this huge amount of hate coming from? He looked down at Kochiro’s face, an angled top preview, the sharp lines and deepened eyes, glued to him. The darkness of the night threw even darker shadows around his face but his ice eyes were bright, bright and strikingly focused, glaring in real and purity for Shimazu, his face low with the low rumbling in the sky.
Shimazu pulled his hand back as though electrified and stared. Kochiro still didn’t move or decrease his hating glare. Shimazu didn’t know how he felt then; shocked, and putting up a mental guard… he shouldn’t have taken Kochiro and his emotions so lightly. Kochiro’s detest for him was... Intense. To believe that he would have been able to soften him a bit, that had been a distorted image, looking through a dirty glass, that tainted image was clear now… caution was what he should have played all along.
“Do not dare touch me, and leave me alone.”
Kochiro turned slowly and walked off as soft drizzles began to splatter. Shimazu didn’t follow, still recollecting himself.
Kochiro didn’t think anything, just walked, then a little faster, then he began running and the rain slopped down. He felt eyes on him, eyes on him again.
Shimazu stared, then slowly lowered his hand, feeling as though it’d been burnt. He bent his head back and let the rain wash, his facial expression actually something between lost… or weirdly tragic. Then he smiled an average soft smile. “Totomi my dear, he is the-” BSSH! “-of you.” The lightning subsided.
Shimazu notched his head back down with a serious, determined resolution. Right.
BSSSSSHHH!!!
Kochiro stopped running, hands on knees and water flooded off his forehead, down the tip of his nose, “Haha, ha hu…” he breathed, looking down at the puddles splashing around his feet. He was down there, his reflection. And something black.
“!!!” he jumped and spun. The… L. D. Angel with the cat eyes. Kochiro stepped back about five steps, he was way too close, could feel the cold off the Angel’s body.
He was still catching himself from the cold run. He couldn’t formulate any words.
The L. D. Angel didn’t even seem to be getting wet, his spiky hair hanging neatly while Kochiro’s draped like a wet pup.
“I,” the Angel said, standing too eloquently to be representing the Lower Deckers, “go by the name ’Michael’. And I have come for you.”
Kochiro breathe in trembling, and out trembling, and in shivering and still didn’t want to believe what was going on. The Angel stood on the street before him, like an image from an imprinted nightmare. His black cape flowed about his lean majestic like body, his hair ebony spokes and again, the weird green… snake eyes. It was the second time Kochiro was seeing him, but he still had to stare, not that the Angel was that good-lucking, but he still held a commanding presence. Standing out this way, a shocker that he hadn’t been caught, or even sighted yet.
“You are…” the Angel alias ‘Michael’ said, “Kochiro Jinchi.”
“What do you want!?” Kochiro yelled, his shirt clinging to him like a second skin. “Stay away from me!!” He took a step back and under stepped, fumbling and almost tripped. “Stay-”
“I’ve come for you.” His voice drifted effortlessly through the rain, “you’re our asset.”
“What do you mean? Why me? How do you know me..??.. What do I have to do with anything-”
“You will get your answers,” the Angel Michael cut him off smoothly, “if you accomplish a task.”
A flash of lightning lit the sky dramatically and Kochiro shielded his eyes. When he reopened them, L. D. Angel Michael had something in his hand, something black and shiny. Glowing droplets ran off its edge and splashed onto the ground. Kochiro squinted through the blurry sheen of rain and put a hand to shield his eyes, he leant forward unconsciously to try to see. Then, his head jerked back with a short gasp.
“What… what…?”
“I want you,” L. D. Angel Michael stretched his hand out further, “to kill the High Decker.” The gun shone.
Kochiro’s eyes went wide.
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Yura closed her bedroom door behind her softly and walked to her glued up cracked mirror. She pulled out her ponytail from her hair in one swoop and let it fall along her back. Her expression in the mirror was still as she cocked her head to one side. Then, she reached under her shawl top and pulled out a single purple rose and tucked it into her hair. Slowly, a smile came onto her lips. So, it is like magic after all.
The white can represent Kochiro’s innocence and purple is of course Shimazu’s colour. She snapped a hand to her cheek. Oh my, I think I like him.
Silence. Her smile went away. Kochiro.
Once on her bed, Yura pulled out an old stack of photos. They were of herself and Kochiro growing up in their shared Lower Deck slums and her pleased smile returned. Kochiro and herself, Kochiro, her mom and herself, Kochiro and his mom… her family and Kochiro… he was rarely smiling in any of them though, to get that huge childish smile you’d have to catch him unawares otherwise he’d just stare or pout. When they got older, you couldn’t ‘catch’ him smiling anymore; he’d just have to put on the smile for the picture. The positions had flipped. But there was one of herself and Kochiro when they were thirteen and her mother had insisted they hold hands and he seemed pleased. Such an actor. She shook her head.
Hmm, her face crinkled again. Kochiro, what in the world I wonder, goes on in that head of yours. What are your hopes, goals… she couldn’t help but worry, what does your future hold?
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“…Kill…Shimazu…” Kochiro couldn’t shut his mouth about that one. “W, what are you talking about?”
“You know who I am and what I do,” L. D. Angel Michael replied. “He is of High Deck and a nuisance as well. I see this as a ripe opportunity to get rid of a potential threat and also a chance to test you. Perfectly logical, isn’t it?”
Kochiro straightened up and looked away, a confused conflicted face. “But I…”
“It’s okay. But I don’t have much time. It’s your decision.”
Kochiro looked down and screwed his eyes tight remembering Shimazu waving, sitting next to Yura on the roller coaster and even when he appeared before Kochiro when this L. D. Angel had come to fight. He gnashed his teeth and opened his eyes in distaste. “It’s not even that!” he shouted detestfully, “you think I’ll just kill someone!?”
“No one is watching,” ‘Michael stated matter-of-factly. It was as though he saw mere facts and nothing more. Kochiro felt something move inside of him.
“No! I’m not like that! Even if I think, even though I…” he clasped his hands against his ears and squeezed his eyes tight. “I just…”
Kochiro felt something steely being placed into his hands by a firm grip. His eyes snapped open and he tried to pull away but the clasp was burglar tight and Kochiro’s eyes slowly trailed up from his arm up the other’s length and straight up at Michael, not one foot away. Kochiro stared in fright.
“I am not forcing you Jinchi, but I want you to choose indiscriminately,” Michael’s low voice was clearly audible, “now that you have the power in your hands.”
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Kochiro’s wide blue pupils shook as he stared up at the stoic Angel. They stood like that for quite some time until Michael slowly released his grasp and slid backwards silently.
Kochiro kept his armed hand extended away from himself. He didn’t want to move, even release his hold on the M9’s barrel for fear of even acknowledging its presence. He looked back toward Michael while his hand shook.
“Then,” he stuttered when he could finally form words, “then I refuse still.”
Michael showed no signs of reaction, not even a hint of acknowledgment that he’d heard the refusal. Then, he finally decided to speak in his natural cool voice, “I can’t say that I didn’t expect the denial, but,” the rain pattered harshly on, “I must say… your father would be so disappointed.”
“Huh!” Kochiro exclaimed. “My father?” how do you know… where is he-”
“Well, it’s finalized then,” Michael cut him off. “I’ll take my leave. Good luck in your ambitions kid.” Michael lowered his head.
Kochiro stepped forward and shouted to be heard through the rain…
“Stop.”
“Huh?” Kochiro looked behind him to who had spoken. Michael lifted his head.
Shimazu had appeared.
“Shimazu!”
Shimazu was looking at both of them at a time, open curiosity until his kindly face started to deepen seeing Kochiro’s gun, to the Angel and back. He settled on a furrowed face, colder than the one he’d used with Kochiro earlier. “What’s going on here?”
He seemed to be talking to Kochiro more than anything and Kochiro looked away, lowering his arm to his side but still holding it awkwardly from his body. Shimazu looked from Michael to Kochiro sternly again while the Angel returned the calm look and Kochiro kept his eyes on his feet.
“I presume I will not be getting an answer.”
“This has nothing to do with you,” Michael replied coldly.
Shimazu glared at him, “what do you want with Kochiro-kun.”
“…” they stared at each other in silence.
“Neither of you wishes to answer me then?”
“…” Michael turned his emeralds back onto Kochiro, “now’s your last chance.”
“!!” Kochiro looked up. Shimazu glanced at him again, realization dawning. His eyes became slits.
“Oh, so that’s it?” he said, “you’re forcing Kochiro-kun to kill me in order to prove loyalty to your cause, in order to gain acceptance from a group he has never trusted from the start.” Shimazu was getting more and more displeased by the second and it showed surprisingly in his face, face and body language. “Yet you’re persuading him..? There are few things I despise in this world however forcing someone against their will, forcing upon them your truth your own beliefs and morals… is one of them.”
The Angel was glowering now as Shimazu made his way over to the distance between him and Kochiro. The Angel could have left whenever he wanted but now it seemed obvious he was going to stay, and by Shimazu’s look as well, they were really going to fight.
Shimazu drew his sword, the Angel was waiting. It seemed to be an unfathomly close match. Kochiro gulped. This time it’s time for real. Neither was going to surrender. There was too much to be lost on either side. Kochiro took a step backward.
“It’s just such a despicable way to live,” Shimazu clasped his sword in two hands affront him.
The Angel Michael crouched slightly and slid out something between his fingers, “we’ll see.”
Shimazu charged off, bringing up his sword in a flash of light and then down upon the Angel. Michael brought up his arm. The sword held, apparently Michael was wearing shinobi armguards. His other arm thrust out sideways with a kunai in hand. Shimazu saw and jumped back but Michael let fly a volley of ninja stars from the former hand.
SHING SHING SHING.
Shimazu’s sword completed a revolution to knock all the stars away. The kunai had been a distraction huh. They faced off again.
Michael took out a sword too, his a katana. It mightn’t have reach but it was faster and easier to manipulate. The L. D. Angel was a ninja after all. Shimazu seemed plenty confident however.
Then in nanoseconds, they blurred toward one another and streaked back in rapid succession just as before. Six quick untraceable by the eye attack occurs, a loud ‘shing’ and light as they collided, the only evidence of battle.
They repulsed once more and Michael flipped back one further. He had a tear on his cloak but was unperturbed. Shimazu was still unscathed. Michael uncrouched and tossed the katana to the side. He took out two kunais and two lengths of wire and tied them. Shimazu didn’t do anything except swipe the air downward then spun the blade into a different hold.
Michael flipped into the air and pelt the kunais. Shimazu stepped aside easily but then he saw the paper tags along the lines before the tags exploded. He shielded his eyes, Michael threw a flight of ninja stare into the smoke and as soon as it cleared, he appeared ground level near Shimazu.
Shimazu looked down surprised; a few fresh cuts were visible. Michael swiped his leg around, Shimazu bent back planting his sword and flipping over it in the process, his hands never leaving its hilt. When he touched ground, he swung the sword out horizontal low to the ground. Michael lied back in a crab-back then braced his hands and pumped his legs out to plant both feet out to kick.
Shimazu fell back unarmed. Michael landed on his feet follow-through and attacked with cuffs and footsteppings.
Shimazu was ready by then and showed that he was skilled in hand to hand combat as well. He ducked, delivered equivalent jabs and punches and sidestepped and pivoted moreover. Michael fought on the low side, flipping and keeping to the ground most of the time whilst Shimazu spun and sidestepped, jumping away from a level distance. They both seemed to be in an elaborate dance routine.
Kochiro was still standing on the sidelines with a gun in his hand.
Whose side am I on? I hate Shimazu, but is it really alright to be on the side of that notorious L. D. Angel? They’re on our side, but they still are bad, still are murderers of which I’ll never be. I’m not killing anyone, but what am I supposed to do? How does he know my father?
By now, Michael and Shimazu recognized how evenly they were matched and were ready to go all out. They wanted to reach their limit immediately and finish it off. They weren’t weary yet though the rain weighed down their clothing and water slugged their movements, they both looked like the ultimate fighters with perfect co-ordination. What would the outcome be, and then… what’s to happen? What, Kochiro thought, should I do?
Shimazu rolled on his stomach after one violent exchange. He pushed up onto his arms and wiped a swab of blood from his lips.
Michael pushed up off his back; his long spikes were released of their ponytail and were spokey all about his shoulders. He got to his feet in one stumbling move and clutched at his arm. “You’re,” he said, “an exceptional fighter to be parrying this long with me.”
“I can say the same about you. However, I hate fighting, but when I have to, I put all my heart into it. Because I have to fight with all I have to protect what I believe in.” He made an arc before him with his sword mysteriously back in his hands.
“…” Michael stared. Then took out a kunai from his invisible arsenal. “Interesting.”
ZOOM
A gun. A tool representative of death, of finality… a weapon of capabilities of plain destruction. Guns are tools that should only be used by clear minded, level thinking people who know exactly what they are doing and the consequences of their actions. Guns are so undervalued these days. A single shot could take someone’s life in a second; erase their entire existence from the world, no turning back.
You always hear of the fear an innocent person has when holding a gun. A single pull of the trigger finalizes decisions. A powerful item; to protect, to kill, to get one’s way. It’s always associated with revenge, anger and death. It gives a feeling of dread, a rush and lack of control, unfocused maniac, lust, craze, senseless madness or profound fright. Wrong.
And killing was wrong too, Kochiro knew. It was definitely wrong.
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The Nobles Soldiers were suddenly swarming down through the Decks, their crisp white uniforms with black edgings gleaming beautifully, enchanting and filling the lowers with loathsome respect and admiration.
They came from the Pillars in streams of neat perfectly synchronized lines, about forty in total but still filling up the space that you’d swear there were hundreds; the esteem or stilted envy evoked in even the High Deck officers who had to step aside. This was a rare spectacle, maybe the last time such a parade of royalty would ever occur.
They were going to scour Middle Deck, the solitary cloaked figure knew, and that was going to prove a minor setback to try to thread through them to the destination. The cloaked one kept hidden at the corner, lifting its cowl to search for the leader- to coast clear of Lord Bromo.
“…” Uriko’s eyes flashed beneath her cowl.
Damn it that they’d be closing off the Pillars. She’d have to get access as only a Nobles Soldier could but keep herself hidden from the other Soldiers who’d recognize her and become suspicious of her actions, and, of course, report to the relentless Lord Bromo.
The thought of her ‘superior’ made her almost roll her eyes in tired exasperation. Ah, what a relationship the two shared, suspicious of each other for trifle matters then open and ignorant of their personal secret missions as she was on for Totomi at the moment.
She had been heading back to Pillar 141 to return to the Noble Deck when Totomi called her. Totomi, though her close friend, rarely asked favours of her and she wanted to do her best in the mission. Search for Shimazu on LowerDeck, he’d said, and give him a heads up. It wasn’t at all a convenient request what with her situation with everything but she would do it anyway. She had to be extra careful.
The two lines of Nobles Soldiers exiting Pillar 141 and possibly other exits throughout MiddleDeck was not surprising to her because she knew the Soldiers efficiency. In the dim of the night in over lit streets, officers on patrol, nightlife about; Lord Uriko was ready.
At the corner, she was clothed in the shadows; Nobles Soldiers filed down from the Pillar and then split into groups to search all the streets. A Soldier remained at the Pillar entrance but Uriko was only on the lookout for Bromo. Damn, why was he dwindling behind. She somehow felt that he of all the Soldiers would spot her there even if she were micro-sized. His senses peaked even above the elite Nobles Soldiers. You weren’t one of the ten Nobles leaders for nothing after all.
Finally Bromo decided to move, each step sturdy and purposeful. Uriko slid around her corner and backed up more than was necessary, her face set as she waited for her ‘partner’ to pass. Bromo’s steps were thunderous, his eyes slits. He had an aura about him. Even though he wasn’t flashy needing to be flanked, one could tell that he was the authorative head there who simply chose to work alone.
She was thinking about all of this when he drew level with her and stopped suddenly, his hand flying up. Automatically, Uriko reached for a weapon at her side but it was a stupid action to choose to fight Bromo. But she couldn’t exactly explain her attire and hiding, now could she..?
Then she realized he was on his Soldiers cell and she tensed her limbs to slip forward while she had the chance. And it was a good thing that she did too because after his first call, Uriko felt her own cell send a tingle throughout her and she pressed the device at the side of her neck. Awkwardly enough, it was Bromo.
“Lord Bromo here. Where are you.”
Uriko pursed her lips but replied evenly, “at Pillar 120, do you want me to relocate?”
“No. Just checking. I’ve the 140 jurisdiction under control and am confirming the other situations at the moment. Proceed, and report in if you sight Them.”
“Of course,” she reported fixedly.
And he disconnected. Hmph, lying was like a second language to Uriko. She couldn’t let Bromo find them first. She’d better get cracking. The Nobles Soldier though, was still guarding the Pillar.
An attempt at distraction would prove futile because a Nobles Soldier was too well trained to fall for such a petty trick. She couldn’t ask him to pass either because she was supposed to be within the 120 jurisdiction and fighting or knocking him out would only raise alarm when Bromo was later informed. She already knew all of this. She set her jaw...
Then... she looked up... and there was the silhouette. A pitch black silhouette crouching on the wall. Instantly, it was recognizable.
Another L. D. Angel.
How convenient. The Nobles Soldier looked to the figure and turned. The L. D. Angels... were they planning to strike the Soldiers now that they had the chance?
The Soldier took stance; his long ponytail swished as he took out his gun and took aim, eyes narrowing. The Angel flipped down, twisting in the air as if to show off; slender short limbs and a head full of bouncy curls as he landed, a stick held in his hands offensively.
Uriko’s lips quirked disapprovingly and then she had her eyes beyond onto the Pillar entrance as Soldier and Angel faced off.
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Holding a gun... gave a feeling of power. Of course, there are a lot of sayings of the fright one gets, the... uncertainty??? No. They never tell you about the calm that may sometimes flood you. It’s cold smooth metal when fitted perfectly into your hand and the heartbeat pounding, reverberating through it, making man and weapon one.
It makes you strong. It wipes away doubt. It gives you one path and that surety; the positive knowledge of having just this one option, of knowing this will happen at least boosts your confidence that nothing else holds you back. It is... a thrill.
And you do feel strong and powerful and ready for anything.
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About one hour later, Uriko was bursting onto the scene. She’d finally arrived and was finally before Shimazu when she saw them.
She’d emerged a distance off, along the corner heading toward them she could see all the separate factions but they couldn’t see her yet. She had an angle on Shimazu and the ninja Angel fighting. She could see a boy of about 15 years with vivid blue eyes standing before them, gun in hand.
Oh!!! Shi....
Her mind went into overdrive but things happened so quickly then, as she was running forward, it happened.
Shimazu had felled, Michael had the upper hand. Blood streaming down Shimazu’s eye; Michael had him now- Shimazu on his knees. Kandai above, plunging down his kunai...
And then Shimazu revealed his hidden sword, pulling it free now to spear upward and impale Angel Michael. Shimazu had the upper hand...
Michael’s hand was plunging down and Shimazu was ready with his longer sword...
“Nooo!!!!!”
Shimazu smiling at Kochiro after he’d first run from the L. D. Angel. “Hey... Kochiro-kun.” Kochiro yelling in return and felling on his butt.
“Wait. He wants to get off!” Yura said as Kochiro was trapped in the roller coaster and Shimazu smiling and waving oblivious beside her; Kochiro sick on the ride.
Shimazu’s final pat on his head as Kochiro glared.
“Kochiro-kun...”
Shimazu’s sword inched near, Uriko ran forward and... then...
BANG.
Wsshhwsshhhhh. The night drew still.
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Yura stacked the faded photos together as the last peal of lightning lit the outside sky. She slid the book back into its place on the bookshelf and then took the rose out of her hair.
Just as she put the flower into the vase, she winced and pulled back her hand. The rose dangled to the floor. “Awch,” she whispered and held up her cut index finger. The flower had been carefully pruned, but somehow, she’d pricked herself.
She stared at the single bud of rose red blood pooling out placidly on her fingertip. It oozed and mesmerizingly, it ran down and dropped through the air, onto the floor; a red red stain.
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