Dreamer Awakened

CHAPTER TWENTY

"If you would just sign here, Mr. Kunikida," the coroner politely asked, proffering the clipboard and pen to the big, burly man.

Feeling for her husband, Ryoko stood, biting her lip and watching him, her arms crossed anxiously in front of her.

Daitetsu looked blankly at the clipboard but made no move to take it.

"We need your signature on the death certificate, Mr. Kunikida," the coroner prodded reluctantly.

Daitetsu remained motionless and Ryoko stepped forward.

"-Would it be all right if I signed?" she inquired softly, her blue eyes shifting between her husband and the coroner, wishing to spare him some pain, no matter how small it might be.

The coroner shifted his attention to the trim brunette standing uncomfortably to his right.

"And you would be?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

"I’m Mrs. Kunikida," she responded, "Kaede’s… stepmother."

The clipboard changed directions, and Ryoko reached out to take it, noting that Daitetsu turned away as she did so. She hurriedly scribbled her name next to the bold slashing X and thrust the document back at the coroner.

"I am sorry for your loss," he intoned with distant politeness before stepping away, going to join the other two men who had placed Kaede’s covered body upon a gurney to carry her from the iwatto.

Daitetsu didn’t watch them leave, tried not listen as the wheels rattled each time they bumped up the stone steps leading out of the iwatto. Instead he kept his eyes riveted upon the pool of water, following the long gleaming bars of light from the solar mirror that shimmered and undulated along its surface.

She had been here.

His Kaede.

Perhaps standing in the same spot where he was now standing; perhaps even watching the water as he watched it now. It had only been the space of a few hours in time that had separated him from her. Transient moments that kept them from meeting in this spot, face to face where they might have shared an instant of companionship, their eyes seeing the same things and their voices mingling in conversation.

Only a matter of a few hours, and yet those hours had been stretched into an eternity, he thought, the precious minutes that might have been, nothing but an unrealized longing, the vagaries of time forever depriving him of seeing his Kaede again.

He couldn’t believe that this was happening. His little girl was gone, and he hadn’t even gotten the chance to say hello before he was forced to bid her goodbye. He felt so empty inside. He’d always been sure that he would see her again. He’d always held out the hope that she would return. He had never imagined that she would return and he wouldn’t be here for her when she did.

A single tear slid down his rough, weather beaten face and he made no move to wipe it away.

It wasn’t fair! He railed internally, the hands in his pockets tensing into fists, a bleakness etched into his craggy face and pain filling his dark eyes as he denied the pain in his heart any verbal expression. He stood there, time holding meaning for him no more and only moved when he felt someone press close to his side.

It was Ryoko.

The comforting warmth of her presence soothed some of the pain he felt, and he looked down at her, his barren expression easing somewhat. Ryoko was always there for him, he thought to himself, no matter what. She listened uncomplaining to his grumpy mutterings, taking care of his home and his life like it was an honor to do so, instead of the large pain in the butt he knew it had to be. His precious, ever vigilant wife; without her he would be lost.

Ryoko took one look at Daitetsu’s face and then leaned into him, her arms going around his chest. She laid her head over his heart and she felt his own arms encircle her, holding her tightly against him.

"I – I don’t know what to say," Ryoko murmured, aggrieved, "I – I don’t think there’s anything I can say that would help." Her arms tightened around him and he reciprocated by squeezing her even closer. "Please don’t give up hope, Daitetsu," Ryoko murmured desperately, her voice muffled as she pressed her face against his chest. "Momiji said that Kaede had divulged that nothing had changed – so perhaps – there is a reason to hope."

There was a moment of silence.

"A reason to hope," Daitetsu echoed numbly. "That’s what she – died - for, isn’t it? Momiji said that she came here to protect the baby; that she knew about the baby. She died protecting him. To give us a reason to hope."

It wasn’t what Ryoko had meant, but it was something to think about. A reason to hope: an Aragami child. No, not an Aragami child. Not a human child either, but just a child. A child important enough that the gods would protect it, that Kaede would return to the earth once more and suffer in sacrifice for a cause that they had yet to completely discern.

"He must be the key to stopping the Tengugaki," Ryoko mused aloud, "since they were after him.

"Or the key to setting them free," Kunikida added. "But if that is the case, why would Kaede and Susano-oh protect the child if seeking his death would ensure the protection of all humanity?"

"Daitetsu!" Ryoko pulled back, shocked at the implications of his words, and her husband rushed to reassure her.

"I’m not saying that I want the child to die, Ryoko. You should know by now, I would never consider such a thing. I just think there is more to Susano-oh’s involvement in this than stopping the Tengugaki, that’s all. I just wished to god, I knew what it was."

"Victory!" Sugishita cried, pushing wide the door to the lab, the morgue samples held high as his eyes swept across the empty room. "Hey," he said lowering his arm and looking back over his shoulder at his companions. He stepped further into the room to give Kome and Yaegashi enough room to slide in after him. "Where’s Ms. Matsudaira?"

"Shhhh!" came a loud hissing noise from the high-backed chair behind Matsu’s desk.

It was turned facing the wall so Sugishita hadn’t noticed that someone was sitting in it. As the hissing stopped the chair swiveled around and Sugi’s blue eyes widened at the sight of the person sitting there.

"Keep it down, lover boy," Sakura hissed testily, her sandy blonde brows drawn down over her crimson eyes, "I just got this little brat to sleep."

There was a sound of choking coming somewhere from behind Sugishita’s left shoulder: Kome trying to hold back a laugh, he realized, and as Sugishita continued to stare in amazement at Sakura, he found himself suffering from the same ailment, a grin cracking his face wide open.

For some reason, the mascara beneath Sakura’s right eye had run, giving her the appearance of a black eye, her tight red sweater had white splotches scattered all over the arms and across what he could see of her breasts and in her hair, which was sticking out on both sides, there were what looked like pieces of white tape stuck in it. He’d never seen Sakura look so…smudged and crumpled before, and it made him wish he had a camera.

The sounds of Kome’s smothered laughter were soon joined by Yaegashi’s nervous giggles, and Sakura’s irritated expression became even worse. She began to puff up from anger, looking like she would explode at any moment.

"And what the hell is so funny!?" she sputtered in strident tones. The anger in her face immediately crumpled, though, as she realized, that with her harsh words, she had just managed to startle Noa awake, and he began to whimper, getting ready to howl. "No! No, no, no, no, NO! Dammit!" she all but screeched, leaping to her feet and stomping over to where the three other occupants stood clustered around the door. "Here!" she bawled, thrusting the baby at Kome, "this is all your fault!" she glared, "you take him!"

Kome took the baby and propped him against her shoulder, now laughing openly in Sakura’s face.

"You can’t blame me for this, Sakura," she replied sardonically, "It was your screeching that woke him up, not mine."

"It was, too, your fault," Sakura huffed, trying ineffectually to brush at the white blobs clinging to the front of her tight sweater.

Now that she was closer and he had a better view, Sugishita could see that the blobs were what looked like baby powder.

"Would you like some help with that, Sakura?" Sugishita asked with a lascivious smile, his eyes level with her bust line as he stepped closer to her and raised a helping hand.

Sakura’s furious gaze swung in his direction and her mouth tightened as her crimson eyes flickered down to his large hand, poised in a cup-like gesture, just inches from her right breast. Her eye began to twitch angrily as she focused back on Sugishita’s face.

"You touch it, Sugishita, and so help me god, you’ll lose it faster than you can say ‘unbelievable’!" she hissed.

Sugishita’s eyes flew to her face and he whipped his hand away, a sheepish grin spreading across his features.

"Can’t blame a guy for trying, can you?" he rationalized.

"When it’s you," she bit out, "yes, I can."

"What happened to your eye?" Yaegashi inserted his curiosity finally overcoming his giggles.

"-And your clothes, and your hair?" Kome added, unable to resist. "-And where’s Matsu?"

"That!" Sakura intoned disgustedly, pointing to Noa, "is what happened. And I have no idea where your lab rat went. She muttered something about killing cows and took off."

"Hunh!?" Yaegashi grunted, confused, looking from Sakura to Kome who was cuddling the now quiet infant. "Killing cows!? But what does that have to do with your eye?"

"It doesn’t have anything to do with my eye, you geek. That," she viciously jabbed her finger in Noa’s direction again, "is what happened to my eye." Sakura’s lips compressed into a thin line and she put her finger up and tried wiping at the smudge beneath her eye, causing it to become worse instead of better. "He squirted me in the eye!"

Kome started to laugh again, as did Yaegashi and Sugishita.

"You mean he peed on you? Kome asked between chuckles.

"Grrrrr! Stop… Laughing!!!!" Sakura growled and stomped her foot.

There was a loud snapping sound as her shoe smacked against the floor and one of her heels broke off, sending her careening into Sugishita with a loud eek!

Suddenly Sugishita found himself blessed with a free handful of what he had been trying to touch just moments earlier as he reached out to steady her. Inadvertently he gave her breast a light squeeze as he tried to set her back on her feet and Sakura shoved hard against him with her fists.

"Who said you could touch me, you jerk!" she harangued, and Noa began to whimper again at the raucous sound of her voice.

"Well it was either that, or let you end up in the floor on your ass!" Sugishita replied.

His hands went up defensively, but he was unable to keep his gaze on her face as his eyes slipped wistfully down to where his hand had been resting and he itched to reach out and give it just one more squeeze….

"Would you two stop it," Kome inserted, stepping into his line of vision and drawing his attention away when she shoved past him, to move into the center of the room, bouncing Noa up and down as she went. "You’re scaring the baby with your loud voices."

Sakura’s head whipped around and her eyes narrowed as she watched Kome continue across the room to take the chair that she had vacated when they had first come in. "You think I care whether or not that little brat is scared? He deserves to be scared for what he did to me!" she accused waspishly.

"That’s what babies do, Sakura," Kome replied derisively, rolling her eyes. "I’m sure that you would have been safe if you had gotten his diaper on a lot sooner. And by the way, the tape goes on the diaper, not in your hair – and the powder, too, is supposed to be for the baby. But it looks like you got that wrong too."

"What the hell would you know about it!" Sakura demanded, her hands fisted by her sides, quivering in rage.

"Not much. In fact, hardly anything at all; but it’s still apparently more than you know," Kome shot back, her blue eyes hard and critical.

The two men standing by the door remained silent, their heads swiveling back and forth, watching the two women eye each other murderously. Neither Sugishita nor Yaegashi was sure of what they should do to keep the girls from killing each other, and each was a little hesitant to intervene, for fear of the feminine wrath that such an action might provoke.

"What’s going on here?" Ms. Matsudaira demanded, coming through the door and stopping abruptly, a small box clutched in her arms.

"Matsu," Kome greeted her and then asked with a raised eyebrow, "what’s this about you killing cows?"

"Killing cows?" Matsu echoed, perplexed.

"Yeah, our talented fortune teller here tells us you muttered something about killing cows before you left."

"I said, chemicals, chem.-I-cals, not killing cows!" Matsu explained, looking from Kome to Sakura, her mouth falling open in shock at Sakura’s appearance. "My god, Sakura!?" she breathed in a startled voice, her eyes sweeping up and down Sakura’s mangled appearance. "What happened to you? When I left, the baby was sleeping – and that was less than twenty minutes ago!"

"Apparently the Kusamikado School didn’t teach her how to dodge a whizzing baby. She was struck in the eye with…ahem…our little fountain maker, here," Kome informed Matsu with dry amusement when Sakura failed to respond. "But why should that be surprising, considering that she couldn’t even decipher a simple sentence…killing cows…pppfffft… Give me a break," Kome grumbled rolling her eyes yet again. "I should have known better than to listen to her."

"Really!" Matsu’s eyes flitted reprovingly back to Sakura. "I’ve already shown you three times today how to change his diaper. Weren’t you paying attention at all?"

"No!" Sakura replied heatedly. Her lip jutted out into a pout as she shifted from one foot to the other, crossing her arms in front of her breasts. "I didn’t think I would actually have to do it –"

"Well what did you think I was showing you for?" Matsu demanded impatiently.

With a cool shrug of her shoulders, Sakura looked away.

"I dunno," she responded mutinously, "I didn’t really care. I figured that as long as you were here, I would just keep telling you that I wasn’t sure how, and you would keep doing it."

Matsu didn’t say anything for a long moment, but just continued to eye her critically.

"What’s in your hair?" she finally demanded.

"Tape," came the monotone reply.

"I know it’s tape," Matsu remarked with asperity, "but where did it come from?"

"From your desk drawer. It was all I could find to use on his diaper," Sakura muttered sourly.

There was the sound of a drawer sliding open and then Kome snorted.

"You used labeling tape on Noa’s diaper!? Don’t you know that diapers come with tape tabs already, Sakura?" Kome asked scornfully, and then muttered, "Jeez, you really are dumber than a box of rocks."

"She would have, if she had been paying attention to me earlier," Matsu said, shooting a dark look at Sakura.

"Well, how the hell was I supposed to know that you would decide to take off in the middle of what you were doing?" Sakura demanded, defensively, "I mean, every time I see you, you’ve got your hip glued to your lab table! I bet you would even sleep on it if there were room!! I never expected you to cut out like that and leave me stranded with," she shuddered, "that little brat."

"Oh, give it a break," Kome grumbled and then, looking at Matsu, "I have to say though, Matsu, I’m surprised you’d leave Sakura in charge of Noa. I thought you were a better judge of character than that."

"Well," Matsu replied, finally moving around Sakura to carry the box over to her lab table, "I had to go down to the Konchi Onshitsu Chemical Company to get some things and I thought it was safe to leave him with her for just a few minutes. He was sleeping peacefully when I left," she explained. She began to remove the contents from the box and carefully put it on the table but was unable to keep herself from looking back over her shoulder to shoot Sakura and accusing glance. "Most babies, once they’re asleep stay asleep for at least an hour or two. Unless of course, something wakes them up."

Sakura widened her crimson eyes innocently, "I didn’t do anything. You think I wanted him to wake up? Hardly!"

"Well that didn’t stop you from waking him up when we came in, did it?" Kome noted sardonically.

"Why don’t you go blow it out you’re a-" Sakura began furiously.

"That’s enough!" Matsu cut in sharply, turning around, her dark eyes swinging from Kome to Sakura. "Sakura, why don’t you go home? I think that I have more than enough help with these three here, and you look like you need… a fresh change of clothes – and a shower."

But Matsu didn’t even get the words all the way out before Sakura was sauntering towards the door, her graceful stride marred by the fact that she was forced to lurch unevenly up and down because of her broken heel.

"Fine by me," she replied in a callous voice, her chin tilting up as she walked by Sugishita, ignoring his lecherous grin.

Just as she left, Ryoko and Kunikida came through the door, Kunikida’s head and neck craned backwards and his eyes popping from his head as he watched Sakura limp down the hallway.

"What the!?" Sakura heard him mutter. "What happened to her?"

She had moved too far away to hear the reply that was made, but even as far down the hall as the elevator, it was impossible not to hear Kunikida’s shout of laughter as someone filled him in on the status of her appearance. Sakura ground her teeth together in irritation. Oh, how she hated babies, she suddenly decided vehemently. They were nasty little creatures and the only thing that she could think of that she hated more, was looking like…this, she thought, peering down with narrowed eyes at her beautiful sweater, completely ruined and her designer heel, now broken.

And then a deliciously nasty thought struck her and her mouth curved into a malicious smile. All the misery that she had experienced today, would soon belong solely to Momiji. And what was even better was the fact that Momiji would be forced to put up with it continuously, whereas Sakura had only had to suffer through it for several hours.

As the elevator door opened and Sakura lurched inside, she turned to face the door, a sly expression sliding across her freckled features. Finally, she thought triumphantly, Momiji would finally get what was coming to her. Sakura’s soft, sultry laugh was abruptly cut off as the elevator doors slid closed and the hallway was left empty.

For the fourth time, Murakumo rose from the edge of the bed and for the fourth time he began to prowl restlessly around the room, his handsome face marred by a heavy frown.

Damn that girl! He silently growled. Despite the fact that he had threatened her if she betrayed him, he knew she wasn’t afraid of him. So what was to stop her from revealing his presence? Absolutely nothing! He should go after her, he advised himself strongly for what amounted to the same, exact number of times that he had risen from the bed to stalk his thoughts like he wanted to stalk her.

But he couldn’t and with a frustrated noise he sat down again, his teeth gritted and his hands clenched. She already knew that he couldn’t kill her, and if he went after her now, then she would know that he was weak enough to fear that she would betray him. - And then, he strategized, she would have the upper hand. He couldn’t afford to let that happen, so he forced himself to lie down and close his eyes, trying to concentrate on anything but her.

He managed a few moments of silence before, "Grraaaggh!"

With a jerk, Murakumo sat up, his ribs pulling painfully, but he ignored them. Fuming, he clambered to his feet yet again, but this time, instead of pacing the room, he went to the door and yanked it open, striding silently out into the hall.

"To hell with this," his hissed, ripping the robe from his shoulders, tossing it onto the sofa and stalking out the front door.

He would find her and follow her, he told himself. He just had to make sure that she didn’t see him.

Midori stood next to a rack of men’s trousers in the department store, a bewildered look on her face.

"Can I help you, miss?" Came a masculine voice from behind her.

Startled, Midori looked over her shoulder to see an unassuming sales clerk standing behind her, a polite expression glued to his face.

Midori bit her lip and began hesitantly, "Well, actually," she looked back at the rack of dark trousers, "I’m not sure what I’m looking for."

"Is this a gift for someone?" Mr. Nondescript asked. He stepped forward to let his hand hover over the rack as he suggested, "Perhaps you will let me assist you in choosing something. If you would just tell me his size?"

Midori winced internally. Jeez, how could buying a pair of pants be so difficult?

"-Well I’m not really sure of his size," Midori began, nervously pressing her fingers together in front of her.

"Well, how - big -is your friend?" The sales clerk asked.

"He’s…" Midori broke off, picturing Murakumo in her mind and was unable to stop the color that stained her face, " - bigger than me –"

"Mmmhmmm," replied Mr. Politesse, "could you…be a little more specific?"

Midori looked speculatively at the clerk, "He’s bigger than you too. Actually, he’s bigger than most people I know."

Midori trailed off helplessly and watched the clerk, knowing that her information was about as useful as a rubber nail was to a carpenter.

The clerk gave her an obsequious sort of smile. "I see. Well why don’t we just have a look see, shall we?"

The clerk began rapidly flipping through the trousers and pulled out a pair, holding them up for her approval.

"How’s this?"

Midori’s mouth fell open in dismay at the gargantuan sized pants that looked like they were made to fit a small car.

"When I said big – what I meant was – tall. He’s very tall, not – BIG"

"Oh, I see," Mr. Nondescript intoned, an edge to his politeness now.

The clerk cleared his throat superciliously and, refolding the trousers, shot her a look that plainly told her what he thought of her descriptive capabilities. Turning his back to her, he began to rifle through the rack once more, the loud screeching sound of metal on metal as the hangers were sharply pushed aside echoing his professional, but very polite contempt for her.

"What about this, Madame?" He asked, whipping around and holding out a pair of slacks that trailed the ground even though he held them almost at breast level.

"They’re fine. - I’ll take them," Midori muttered, and grabbed them from him, knowing that they were far too long, but past the point of caring. "And I’ll take any others that you might have in this size."

The clerk’s mouth fell open. He hadn’t really expected her to take them. But she just gave him an expectant look and he turned around and rifled through the rack one more time, pulling out several more pairs and handing them to her. Midori took them from him with a muttered thanks and then went to pay for them.

They were too long, she mentally conceded, but she didn’t want to be standing here all day trying to decide which ones weren’t. Besides, too long was better than too short; and at least this way, she could hem them herself.

Midori finished paying for them, shoved her money back in her wallet and then remembered that she hadn’t gotten Murakumo any shirts. With a groan, she turned away from the counter and began to wander around again looking for shirts. She stayed away from anything tailored and stuck strictly to t-shirts and polos.

Eyeing them critically, she grabbed a handful of those that looked like they might fit and hurriedly paid for those as well, irritated at herself for being so helpful to him. She took her change from the clerk and jerked the bags from the counter. She’d better get home quickly, she thought to herself, before the arrogant jerk tried something else while she was gone.

Stepping out into the cold sunshine, Midori shivered a little and began walking rapidly down the sidewalk, cursing herself for wearing a skirt on such a cold day and doubly cursing herself for leaving the house so quickly that she had forgotten her coat.

Her car wasn’t far though, she reassured herself as her teeth clacked together and she sped up a little, wanting to be there already. She hadn’t gone very far, however, when she stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening in dismay as she recognized the person coming down the street in the opposite direction.

It was her mother.

What was she going to do? She moaned anxiously to herself. Her mother thought she was back in Tokyo and if she saw her here – Midori began to quake in her shoes at that thought. She had to hide, and quick, she concluded, her gaze flipping furtively towards the alley next to the department store.

Throwing her body to the side, she ducked down the darkened alley, the tall buildings surrounding it blocking out most of the morning sun. She skittered along it’s narrow path, occasionally looking back over her should to see how far she had gone, each time realizing it wasn’t far enough. If her mother happened to glance down the alley as she walked past it, she would be able to see Midori and so Midori pressed onward, absently stepping around the occasional heaps of discarded trash until the narrow path took an abrupt turn and continued on to the right.

With one last look over her shoulder to make sure that her mother hadn’t seen her, Midori turned the corner and wheeled around, breathing heavily. She leaned her shoulder against the rough stone of the building and peeked around the corner, watching the people walking to and fro along the sidewalk in front of the alley, waiting to see the familiar short figure of her mother before even thinking of returning to the street.

Just seconds later, Midori saw her mother pass and she breathed a sigh of relief when her mother walked by the opening, her gaze straight ahead without turning to look in the direction where her daughter stood hiding from her.

Once the crisis had passed, Midori leaned weakly against the building, her knees a little wobbly and closed her eyes. Blast you Murakumo, she thought bitterly. But deep inside she knew that this was not Murakumo’s fault. It was hers for listening to her heart instead of informing the TAC of his presence like she knew she should.

"Well, what do we have here, boys?" came a sly gravelly voice from close behind her.

Midori’s brown eyes snapped open and she stiffened. Pulling away from the wall, she turned her head and looked over her shoulder, wariness filling her eyes when she saw three young men wearing gang colors standing just a few feet away from her. She had been so absorbed in hiding that she hadn’t even realized that she wasn’t alone.

"Are you lost, little girl?" One of them asked her insolently, his eyes sliding up her legs over her breasts and across her face, a mockery of a smile twisting his stubbly face.

"Or did you just come to play with us?" another one asked, taking a step in her direction, a hungry gleam in his eye.

Midori remained mute as she felt a frisson of fear begin to creep along her spine, seeing the violent menace that was clearly reflected in their eyes. She took a step back, towards the direction she had come and the first one that had spoken gave a hard laugh.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his hands shoved deeply into his coat pockets. "We want you to stay and play with us, don’t we boys?"

The other two just chuckled and all three of them began to walk slowly towards her. Midori’s mouth went dry and she took another step back.

"What do you want?" she croaked.

But not one of them answered her.

"What’s in the bags?" the third one finally asked as they continued to advance.

Midori looked down at the bags clutched tightly in her hands and she abruptly dropped them, her purse included.

"Here, take it. Just leave me alone," she mumbled hoping that they would do as she asked.

The first youth, the leader apparently, motioned to the others to look and see what was in the bags and they stopped moving, crouching to go through her things. But the leader continued in her direction, his eyes sweeping over her in an insulting way.

"What’s the matter, pretty lady?" he asked her, "we just want to play. You’re not – afraid – to stay and play with us, are you?"

His gaze dropped to her breasts and Midori fought the urge to cover them with her arms to protect them from his eyes, knowing that if she did, she would only be giving him the reaction he was looking for.

Midori took one more, slow step backwards, thinking swiftly. Her eyes swung away from him to the other two youths who had abandoned her shopping bags and were now going through her purse. If she tried to run, it would take a few second for them to realize it, which would give her a head start. But the other one, the leader, was a different story. He was much too close and he would be the one she had to worry about if she tried to run, she concluded.

Midori brought her brown eyes back to the leader, trying to assess her chances of outrunning him. He was young; maybe fifteen or sixteen at the most, and wiry; but he wasn’t much taller than she was. Midori took another step backwards, trying to maintain the distance between them as he moved inexorably in her direction. If she made a break for it, she might be able to outrun him and make it to the street, she hesitantly concluded.

But even if he had been twice as tall as she, she would have reached the same conclusion. She sure as heck wasn’t about to stand there and willingly let him take advantage of her; that was for certain.

With that thought in mind, and without warning, Midori spun around and bolted around the corner, running as fast as her feet would carry her. Her flat-soled shoes pounded hard against the pavement, the shock of impact stinging the bottom of her feet as she fled. She heard the young leader spit out a string of obscenities, but she didn’t turn to look at him as he gave chase, hearing his footfalls pounding after her, getting closer. He was going to catch her, came the panicked thought, and she leaned forward, trying desperately to evade him.

"Leave that crap and go after her!" he shouted over his shoulder to the other two.

Midori managed to make it as far as the middle of the alley. Then her head was viciously snapped backwards, and she was brought to a stand still as the leader grabbed a fist full of hair and yanked her to a halt.

His fingers bit into her scalp, but Midori ignored the pain knowing that far worse lay in store if she didn’t get away. Twisting around, she swung her hand up and raked her long fingernails across his cheek.

"You bitch!" he growled, "you’re gonna pay for that!"

He had reared back and had let her go but Midori didn’t get any farther; her way now blocked by the other two gang members. Trapped like an animal, her brown eyes reflected her fear as she gazed from the hard faces of each youth. Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw the flash of silver as it came arcing toward her.

Jerking around, she saw the knife of the leader plunging towards her face a split second before it cut into her. Instinctively, Midori threw her hands up and tried to take a step back, away from the blade, but she was unable to avoid it.

With a cry, she felt it slash deeply across the palm protecting her face and then bite into her arm, cutting through her shirt like paper, as the leader brought the blade forward and back again in a slashing motion.

Her breath coming in gasps from fear and pain, Midori felt harsh hands grab her shoulders, as the other two gang members, laughing roughly, held her immobile, and she watched, whimpering, as the leader advanced towards her, pressing the point of the blade, now glistening red with her blood, against the thin material of her shirt, pricking the expanse of skin between her breasts.

The leader leaned towards her until there was only a few inches that separated their faces, the red gash marks that Midori’s nails had made, standing out on his face as she stared at him, terrified. There was a gloating look in his eyes as he smiled a feral smile and his blade trailed upwards, scraping against her skin, until it was pressed against her neck.

"You shouldn’t have hurt me, little girlie girl," he sneered and the other two laughed as he leaned forward to press a hard kiss against her lips, before breaking away to look into her eyes, his own eyes full of malicious intent. "Now you’re gonna have to play with us whether you like it or not," he menaced.

Midori whimpered again as she felt the fingers from his free hand touch her leg, trailing upwards until it was beneath her skirt and he grasped her thigh in a hard grip, his smile widening at her small sound of distress.

"Let me go!" she cried, beginning to struggle wildly.

All three of them laughed, and the two holding her tightened their grip against her, making her struggles useless. A scream rose in Midori’s throat as she felt the leader’s hand slide to her underwear, but before he could yank it down there was a vibrating, buzzing sound and the two youths holding her suddenly stiffened. With strange choking sounds, their faces went slack and they collapsed to the ground.

Suddenly free, Midori watched, her eyes wide with shock, as thin streams of blue light crackled around her and converged on the youth standing in front of her, hitting him in the shoulders with such force that he dropped his knife and was driven backwards.

"What the hell?" the gang leader muttered, looking over Midori’s shoulder, and backing warily away.

Midori slowly turned her head and her mouth fell open when she spied Murakumo standing a few feet behind her. His long hair flowed over his shoulders and, despite the cold air, he was dressed in nothing but his battered trousers; the bright blue of his mitamas standing out against the pale skin of his chest.