Story: The Grave (all chapters)

Authors: BeyondTime

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Chapter 1

Kirika worked silently as she dug the grave, never once stopping to look at the large bundle lying so very still at her side. Yuumura Kirika, ever the consummate professional, was unrivaled in her ability to hide bodies in the earth while leaving no trace that would clue any passersby to the horror that lay moldering beneath their feet.

Not that there would ever be any random stranger on this deserted island she had come to with Mireille a year ago. They had wanted to build a life for themselves outside the reach of the Soldats, and had used their wealth to buy a tropical island with a perfect climate, and no blood-sucking insects to make them regret their retreat into total isolation. Only the occasional supply boat that left food and other essentials on their dock, whose sailors came and left under the watchful eye of two sniper rifles without ever seeing the faces of the two women behind them, connected them to civilization.

As Kirika worked she thought about what had brought her relationship with Mireille to this unpleasant juncture…

After their flight from the manor it didn't matter to Kirika exactly how Mireille felt about her; as long as Mireille accepted her as a part of her life she was happy with things as they were, or at least so she thought. She wasn't even really sure if her own feelings for the beautiful blond were romantic or platonic. The idea of not being alone was so new to her she had yet to really figure out what exactly she wanted that "not alone" to be.

All that changed the day she saw Mireille sunbathing nude on the beach below the little house they lived in. At the very first glance the rush of desire she felt informed her that the feelings of love she felt for Mireille were decidedly not platonic. The greater wonder still was the night she awoke in bed to find Mireille lying on her side next to her staring intently at her face. The next thing Kirika knew she was being kissed, and nothing in her life had ever felt so right as that moment Mireille's lips met hers.

From that day forward it took all of Kirika's effort to keep herself from putting her arms around Mireille every time she was anywhere near her. She loved the feel of Mireille's skin against her own, and hearing the beating of Mireille's heart when she rested her head against her back, but even when the opportunity arose for them to embrace Kirika all too often felt a remnant from their past life in France coming between them. In the several weeks since their first night together as lovers it had begun driving her crazy.

Kirika knew exactly what this barrier Mireille kept erecting between the two of them was, and everything she had learned about Mireille in their time together clued her in to the fact that Mireille's passion for holding onto things she found important would make it almost impossible for Kirika to overcome this particular problem. As time passed its presence grew more and more unbearable to her. It finally reached a point where Kirika could no longer live with the pain it was causing her.

She was left with the realization that as long as something was separating her from Mireille - both physically and emotionally - she couldn't live with Mireille.

Kirika was a trained assassin not a psychologist. Her skills only gave her one very direct course of action when dealing with problematic situations in her life. When she realized she could no longer go on living like this she acted. She waited till Mireille was in the shower completely off guard, and then she began making her preparations for her crime without hesitation or remorse. Her victim in the end wasn't even able to put up a struggle, and before Kirika knew it she was dragging a heavy sack to a very remote part of the little island….

Kirika tamped the final bits of sandy earth down over the grave, and set about giving it the finishing touches that would perfectly blend it in with its surroundings. Even the most expertly trained assassin would never find what lay concealed underneath the earth here. She then began her trek back to the little bungalow, but as she rounded the final bend and thought about what she had done the guilt overwhelmed her and she heard a wail of despair as deep as her despair that rainy morning in the Paris cemetery ringing in her ears.

Chapter 2

Mireille Bouquet formerly an extremely dependable assassin for hire stepped out of the shower into the bedroom she shared with Yuumura Kirika, also once an assassin for hire, and now simply the most important part of Mireille's life.

As she looked around the bedroom for the clothes she had laid out before stepping into the shower she thought briefly about the moment when she had read Kirika's letter and realized that she could never genuinely do harm to her. Kirika's words had driven home to her how lonely and empty her own life had been before Kirika had so suddenly thrust herself into it. Even the one person who might someday have become a lover had quickly wound up buried in a Parisian cemetery before they had even gotten to know each other very well.

At the time she thought it was just the simple consequence of one of her hits, but now having met Altena and learning how involved Altena had been with her life even before her parents had died, she realized it was Altena's own hand reaching out from the manor making sure her chosen "maiden" remained a maiden. Perhaps even more importantly that she remain isolated from any external influences that might deviate her from the path to becoming Altena's twisted concept of Noir.

Kirika's words had blown through all her pretenses about revenge and as the tear coursed down her cheek she had realized how very lucky she was to have Kirika come into her life, and how much she had come to love the beautiful Japanese woman. Only her own pridefulness had kept her blind to that. She knew at that moment that she had no choice but to cut a deal with Remy Brefort, so she could find her way to the manor and save Kirika from her fate as a Noir candidate. Nothing was more important to her now than putting the past between them to rest once and for all, so they could move on to the future. She very much intended Kirika to be a part of that future.

At the very least she had preserved her personal honor by making sure the deal was on her terms not his.

After the battle at the manor and their return to Paris, she had suggested they retreat completely from the civilized world and it's darkness, and so together they had moved into isolation in the tropics. As they had lived here together their presence in each other’s lives gradually helped them both to heal from the damage Altena had done to them.

Finally one night several weeks back as she was lying in bed looking at Kirika's peaceful sleeping face Mireille had come to the realization that she wanted Kirika to share in every aspect of her life, and so when Kirika's eyes opened Mireille had put her lips against Kirika's and kissed her. When she felt her kiss being passionately returned she had begun pulling Kirika’s clothes off and felt Kirika excitedly doing the same to her own. The rest of the night they had spent in passionate explorations of each other’s bodies, and while there was some pain it had quickly been swept away by the pleasure born from their love for each other. When the sun had risen on the following morning it found them both intertwined in the bed they shared completely spent.

Mireille had thought at that point that they had moved completely beyond their past trauma, but lately she had sensed a darkness in Kirika, and she had yet to put her finger on what was troubling the young woman.

As Mireille mused over her past it dawned on her that the clothing she had left on the bed wasn't there anymore. She thought to herself "Kirika must have cleaned up and put them away, but she knows I always lay something out to put on after I shower." She went over to the closet to retrieve her carefully chosen outfit and opened the door only to have a sudden and terrible assault yank the bottom out from under her world.

Chapter 3

Her Prada shoes… her dress by Dolce… the slacks by Donna Karan… even that cute little top that didn't come from a named designer but which matched the color of her eyes so perfectly she had fallen in love with it immediately… all gone. She quickly opened Kirika's closet only to find the same. All the outfits she had helped Kirika pick out while they were hiding out from the Soldats in New York were gone as well. Mireille let out a wail of despair as she realized she had been burgled, and then her mind immediately jumped to "We're the only two people here…. who did this?" It was then that she heard footsteps in the hallway outside the bedroom and her dive for her gun was only arrested by the realization that the almost silent steps could only be Kirika's.

Kirika stepped into the room and looked at Mireille standing naked in front of two empty closets and as her eyes met Mireille's she heard Mireille say, "Kirika… our clothes are gone…." Then Mireille's eyes widened a bit and she said "Kirika why aren't you wearing anyth…" As comprehension dawned upon Mireille's beautiful features she cried out "Oh my god no! Kirika... you didn't?" Kirika stepped determinedly across the room and put her arms around Mireille. She enjoyed a very contended feeling of bliss as she felt Mireille's breasts rising and falling against her own and she said to her "It doesn't matter Mireille we don't need them anymore. The weather here never gets cold, and even when it rains it's a warm rain." As she looked up into Mireille's eyes she said, "Now nothing can ever come between us again!"

[End notes:

This was inspired by the Noir ending animation with its tropical setting and the image of Kirika wandering naked on the beach. While the emotional context between Kirika and Mireille is fundamentally a reflection of the anime Kirika deciding she has to murder Mireille's well-loved wardrobe is intended as pure satire.

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