Resolutions
This isn't exactly an extravagant fic; It's more or less covering
something I thought the ending didn't cover.
Oh, and watch out for tons of spoilers about the ending of the series.
_-_-_
Kirika couldn't help but to let out a small whimper as the car went over
a bump in the road. Concerned, Mireille glanced over. "We're almost
there. Are you sure you'll be alright until we get to Paris?"
"Mm." Nodding, Kirika gave her partner a tiny smile to show that she was
alright.
The two were on their way back from the border of France and Spain,
having been part of "The Great Return," the rebirth of Noir. In the end,
the girls had escaped that fate, but not before Kirika was shot in the
stomach and both girls incurred a number of lesser injuries. Now they
were headed back to Paris to try and figure out what they were to do
next. The Soldats still reigned over the criminal underworld, and in the
course of their assassination career they had gained a number of other
enemies.
However, that was of little concern to them at the moment. The shadow
that had stood over them, the trials, was gone. And now, they were free
to do what they wanted.
It took a good few hours to get back to Paris. Once there, their first
stop was at an old doctor's house, an acquaintance of Mireille's who
would not ask awkward questions about obvious gunshot wounds. Then it
was off to the apartment the two shared.
Unlocking the door to the apartment, Mireille glanced around at the
damage and sighed. They would have to clean the place up sooner rather
than later, and with the two of them injured, it was sure to be a chore.
She helped Kirika inside and gently eased her down into the bed, which
had miraculously survived the attack of the Soldats with only a few
bullet holes. The blonde then turned to leave, but was stopped by a hand
on her wrist. "Mireille?"
Allowing herself a small smile at the young Japanese woman's
pronunciation of her name, Mireille answered, "Yes? What is it?"
"Where are you going?"
"I'm just going to try and clean up a bit. There's still a bit of glass
left on the floor that I didn't finish cleaning up. It wouldn't do for
one of us to step on some glass and get injured again." She tried again
to leave the room, but she was, again, stopped by Kirika's grip on her
wrist.
Softly, "Please, stay with me."
The pleading in the young assassin's voice made Mireille turn around. In
the light of dawn, Kirika looked so fragile and small that the
Corsican's heart went out to her. She nodded. "Alright. I suppose it can
wait until morning." Taking off her shoes, she climbed into the bed,
pulling the covers up around both of them. Almost instantly they fell
asleep, the stresses of the day catching up to them.
Some time later Mireille awoke to a strange feeling of warmth on her
left side. When she turned her head, she saw that it was Kirika,
sleeping right up against her. Sometime in the night, the two had moved
closer together. Not that it was a new occurrence; sharing a single bed,
it was inevitable that there would be some touching. But with the
recent events, she couldn't help but notice some things more acutely.
Like how nice the warmth felt, or how it spread though her body, leaving
her with a deep feeling of contentment.
She frowned. She had never felt this way around Kirika before. Before,
she was just a partner-in-assassination, a good friend who she didn't
have to worry about getting killed by one of the many enemies she had.
And, yes, someone who she has suspected of being involved in her
parents' death for a long while. Ever since she had found the letter,
though, things had changed. Realizing how her friend felt, or how the
blonde thought she felt, made her feel determined to save her at any
cost. Then, there was no time to wonder why. Now though, in this bed,
she had to ask herself, how had her feeling about the younger girl
changed? Was it a deeper friendship? Or... more?
She was stirred out of her reverie when Kirika winced and cried out,
having accidentally rolled over on her side as she slept. The pain woke
her, and smaller woman sat up and blinked sleepily at the other.
"Mireille? What time is it?"
Glancing at the clock, only to remember it had been destroyed in the
gunfight, she replied, "Oh, sometime in the afternoon. We should
probably get up and go find something to eat." Sitting up in bed,
Mireille wrinkled her nose at the state of her clothing, and said, "I
think I'll go take a shower first, though. You stay in bed, we don't
want your wound opening back up."
"Mmm." Kirika laid back down, and watched the blonde get ready. In
truth, Kirika hadn't expected to see Mireille again after the showdown
in the graveyard, at least not until she became Noir. When she came to
rescue her from the clutches of Altena, though, it was like a dream.
Kirika had known how she felt about her partner for a long while; hadn't
she saved her once before, from loneliness? Yet as they discovered more
and more of the past, she became more and more resigned to nothing
coming of it. Not that she left it alone. After the final trial, sensing
what would soon happen, she wrote a letter...
Kirika shot up in bed, ignoring the pain from her wound. "The letter."
Getting out of bed, she limped her way out of the bedroom, passing by
the bathroom as silently as she could. In the living room, she knelt
down by the wreckage of the potted plant she had so carefully tended
before. Calmly, she looked through the pieces for the letter. Then she
looked less calmly. Before she could get really upset, though, she found
the crumpled up ball of paper nearby and opened it up. It was the
letter.
For once, Kirika was confused. Had Mireille found her letter? Why, then,
was it all crumpled up on the floor? Was she disgusted? But then why did
she go out to The Manor to save her? Her head swam with all the
questions. So deep was she in thought that she didn't hear the shower
shut off, or Mireille come into the room.
"Kirika? What are you doing?" The blonde frowned at the other girl. "I
told you to stay in bed."
The girl in question jumped, and looked up. "I was... looking for
something," she said softly, clutching the letter between her hands.
Mireille noticed the letter, and she almost said something, but turned
her head and announced instead, "Well, get dressed. We'll go get
something to eat, then we need to do some shopping before we come back
and have some tea."
Kirika nodded and got to her feet, using the wall as a support. Her mind
was still reeling with questions, but she forced it all down. There
would be time to think later, and her stomach gave a polite growl,
reminding her that she hadn't eaten since early on the day before.
Mireille chuckled a bit at the sound, and then went back into the
bedroom to get dressed.
Later that night, they both sat at the pool table, Mireille sipping at a
cup of tea as Kirika laid out a tray of biscuits. Mireille watched
Kirika contemplatively. The smaller girl had seemed somewhat out of it
while they were out, quiet even for her, and Mireille thought she knew
why. Kirika had found the letter lying on the floor, obviously, and had
probably figured out that she had read it. The question was, what now?
Mireille wasn't a fool. When she was younger, she had written her own
love letter, and it had been just as ambiguous and confused as Kirika's
letter was. Not that Mireille was sure it was a love letter. When she
read it, all she had really grasped at the moment was that Kirika had
needed her, and off she went to The Manor. Now she wondered. If it was a
love letter, what then? Remembering how she felt this morning, Mireille
conceded that she might have feelings for the brunette. But they had to
think out their next moves, with the Soldats still after them, and any
budding relationship would complicate things.
Sighing, she put her cup down on the table. Catching Kirika's eye with
her own, Mireille told her, "We need to talk."
Looking almost like a deer in headlights, the other girl nodded. "Mm."
Taking that as a yes, Mireille pushed on. "Look... About the letter."
Kirika sat up straighter, and looked about to say something, but she
held up her hand. "I... Well, I think I understand what you meant. But
we've got to worry about the Soldats, and-"
"Then, you don't feel the same." Not a question, but a quiet statement.
Kirika looked down at the table, her bangs hiding her eyes from
Mireille's view.
"Not... not exactly." Mireille sighed. "We are talking about love,
right?"
Almost imperceptibly, Kirika nodded, her mind racing a mile a minute.
Not Exactly? Then, "Not exactly?"
Mireille didn't answer right away, instead taking a drink of her tea to
calm her nerves. "I like you, Kirika, I do. I don't know if it's just
because of everything we've gone through together, or whether it's...
like that." Her heart seemed to rise up into her throat when Kirika
looked up, the younger girl's eyes swimming with unshed tears and
shining with hope. "I... don't want you to get hurt if it turns out to
be nothing like what you're wanting."
"Mireille, please, can we just try?" Hearing that the woman she loved
might feel the same way made Kirika's heart beat faster. When the blonde
opened her mouth to reply, Kirika reached over and laid her hand over
Mireille's. "Please."
The look in Kirika's eyes melted Mireille's heart, and any arguments she
had died in her throat. So, instead, she rubbed her thumb over Kirika's
palm and said, "Okay." The utterly blissful smile, such a rare
expression on her partner's face, made her smile in turn. "Now, there
are a few things we can do about the Soldats..."
_-_-_
Thanks for reading. Please review!
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