twiststheblade

The whore has been staring at the altercation, mouth open, but finally gets her wits back. She pushes in between Goldy and the man on the ground, and starts yelling.

"Just what the fuck do you two idiots think you're doing? These two have 'cop' written all over them - and we leave the cops the hell alone. Now what the hell am I going to do?"

Goon A, still against the wall, eyes Goon B, sprawled on the ground with his hand to his nose, and starts to make a move. He's cut short, though. Lucky for him he doesn't do anything rash, or he'd be cut shorter. By a head.

Miho's in the street, suddenly, arriving with a nearly noiseless, soft thump, her blades already out, one held to the throat of Goon A, the other at a ready to take out any of the other threats. The other three threats. Her eyes are completely empty.

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Mary Anne spots a new blade at the man's throat and steps back, sheathing her own knife.

Her hand stays on the hilt, however, when she notices Miho's eyes.

"Not here for trouble," she says, glancing over at the whore.

"Sorry for the misunderstanding."

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I don't have a chance to assimilate the whore's words properly. Because... there she is.

Miho. A cat-like shadow. Arriving with all the perfect grace that I remember. So deadly and yet so beautiful. Fuck, I've missed her.

"Sweetness!"

The street lighting glints off the familiar blades. Thunder rolls in the distance.

Something's wrong. It's like she doesn't recognize me.

"Sweetness?"

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The blade at the goon's throat doesn't waver, but the other one does, for a second. The dead expression in the little samurai's eyes wavers for a moment, too, before setting into something . . . undecided. She turns her attention back to things that she does understand, not spectres of a past that she isn't sure was real.

A flick of a razor sharp sword, a sideways glance, and the two cops are scrambling out of the alley as fast as they can. They won't be telling any tales. After all, it's too. . . humiliating. The whore crosses her arms and glares at the newcomers.

"Right. Explanations. Now."

Miho's eyes waver again. The girl can see them too?

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"We're new in town," Mary Anne says, not wanting to make things more complicated until the whore isn't present.

"We saw you getting harrassed and got involved. We didn't know they were cops and didn't know the rules. Not looking for trouble, like I said."

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She looks okay, physically. Better, actually, than when I last saw her. But I don't like the vacant expression. Not one little bit.

My focus is all on Miho. So much so that I barely hear the whore. And most of Mary Anne's words melt into the pitter-patter of the rain about us.

There's a cold dead weight brushing at my thigh. It takes a good few seconds before I register it as my gun.

"Sweetness. It's me. Goldy. We came to see you."

I take a step towards her.

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The whore gives them a suspicious look. . . but it's been a slow night. and nothing actually went down. She leaves. Miho can handle it, should anything come up.

Miho returns Goldy's gaze, steadily. She looks, for a moment, as if she would like to take a step back, but she doesn't. Her eyes aren't empty, really. It's more as if they're walled. Nothing shows - but not because there's nothing to show.

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"You with us, sweetness?" Mary Anne asks softly.

"We came to see how you were."

There's a beat of nothing but falling rain and heavy silence.

"How are you?"

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There's no reply from Miho.

Again.

My next step is far more tentative. And I actually spare Mary Anne a glance, partially questioning, partially seeking assurance.

I'm starting to hate this. And not just because of the rain. I hate feeling scared.

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Miho looks from Goldy to Mary Anne, and back. She's still not backing away, and now, she doesn't look as if she really wants to. In fact, more as if she wants to step forward. But she can't. That's when she wakes up.

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The silence is downright unnerving, so she breaks it again.

"You alright? You're not...mad we came, are you?"

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I sense an unspoken need in her, and that makes me feel a bit better. I take the final step. The one that brings me within inches of her. And, throwing caution to the wind, I slip my arms around her slight form.

"I don't care if you are."

I embrace her tightly, gun still in my hand.

"It's good to see you, love. I missed you. So much."

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Miho doesn't hold her back - but she does relax, just a little. She still has her blades out, likewise, so it's probably as good thing.

She is rather conscious of the gun, however.

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The rain continues to fall as I hold her. It spills out of my now-drenched hair, coursing down my face in warm rivulets.

I'm soaked.

I hardly notice.

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Miho rests her head on Goldy's shoulder, wet hair sticking damply to both of their faces. If she is crying, the tears are lost in the rain.

She can't sheathe the blades, and she won't drop them, and she can't do anything but hold them by her sides. She can curl into Goldy's embrace.

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And still she says nothing. I try and convince myself that actions speak loudest, and keep on hugging. It feels good. And yet wrong. Everything feels wrong. I realize that I need to hear her say something, my name, a greeting, anything. And somehow I know that's not going to happen.

She's damaged. Again. Worse than ever before. And I have no idea how to fix her.

That hurts.

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Miho pulls away.

Only for a second, though, only to re-sheathe blades (they'll need caring for, later. They're far too wet), before slipping back into Goldy's arms, and this time her own arms slip up in between them, fingers curling hard into the taller woman's shirt.

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There's a chillingly empty sensation in the pit of my stomach. Not painful, but so very unpleasant. I know what it is. But I try and ignore it.

Time passes—seconds, minutes... I've no idea—until I eventually release her and reholster my weapon beneath my sodden T-shirt.

"Who did this to you?"

I'm quite positive, now, that the culprits have already been dealt with. And I know she won't answer. But I have to ask.

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Miho pushes her hair back from her face, flicking rain-water off her hands onto the ground. She shrugs, a little, face impassive. Does it really matter? You can't change the past.

She takes a few steps away, pauses, and looks over her shoulder.

Are they coming? It's raining.

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Mary Anne's been quiet the last few minutes; she couldn't leave, but she didn't want to interrupt.

She gives Miho a nod and starts following her.

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So many questions yammering at me, and bouncing uncontrollably around my head. Where's my Miho, the one I knew and loved? How deep is she buried? How long is it going to take to get her back?

I don't vocalize those though.

"Uh... where are we going?"

It's not that I don't trust this Miho. I don't like following anyone blindly. Especially not in strange places.

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Miho looks back, and frowns. Only for a moment, though, because she manages to turn the frown into a smile. A small, cracked smile, but a smile none-the-less. She stops, waits for Goldy to catch up, and holds out a hand.

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Mary Anne's a little less concerned with where they're going; instead, she's taking in the scenery. Basin City is new territory for her.

She glances back at Goldy, jerking her head in Miho's direction. "Think she's about to show us."

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My heart flutters happily in response to the smile. It's transitory though, and soon replaced by heaviness again.

I take her tiny little hand in mine and say nothing else.

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