Once upon a time, the boy reflected, he'd had better things to do then wait in line so a tinsel-ornamented old woman could tell his fortune. But that really had been a while back.
"Now let's see... You boys all go t' the same school, right?"
Well, the matching school uniforms should have made that obvious, he thought... Muruta Azrael snickered, but seemed ready to play along. Young Seiran - what was his name
now, Yuuna? Yuuna Roma Seiran, right, not that it really mattered, him being the only Seiran in the entire school and all - seemed rather fascinated by the entire proceedings. Onodera Goushi looked more like a biped hamster then ever today, but at least was trying to be cordial, which was a relief - A Onodera with his pants in a twist was a nasty Onodera indeed, as the boy had rather ample opportunity to know, unfortunately enough. And as for Lordrett "Lord" Djibril - Well, he wasn't quite sure if his grey-haired little nutcase of a roommate quite realized exactly what was going on, but at least he wasn't kicking up a fuss, so - though that elderly beyond belief toothless tiger striped cat of his was another matter entirely. He still couldn't quite understand just why Djibril had thought it necessary to drag the old little furry thing along. Wasn't it bad enough that he actually had to keep it in the room they shared?
"Alright, dearies, then let's see your hands - Hmmmmmmm. Well, OK, now - Mr blonde and handsome - my, riches, fame, more riches - that's good, hmmmm? But - "
Muruta sneered. " - But?"
"Ahh..."
The boy blinked. Had the old woman's eyes just clouded over?
"... Betray once, betray twice, betray thrice...you will betray almost everything except what is most important to you..."
And then she - jerked away, looking towards little Yuuna, who jerked back, purple hair bouncing.
"You will do what you have to do to protect what you must, and after you're dead they'll call you traitor anyway. - Not that you'd care, by then."
And to Onodera - "You'll get your victory and more - If you survive the first one."
And then to Djibril - no, why was she looking at his cat of all things?
"Lose you will, and find again you will, for evermore - not that you wouldn't end up making mountains of dead bodies anyway -"
And then her weird unfocused eyes were on him. The boy felt his skin crawl.
"Take power, take fame, all will be yours - till you find your destiny and she kills you dead. - Poor boy."
The five boys gaped, looking at the fortune teller. Who slowly and quietly collapsed, then, face first, and started to twitch on the table.
It was Muruta who called the other fortune tellers and got them to carry her away to the nearest clinic. And on the way home to the school, it was Muruta who spoke up first.
"You know..."
"What, Muruta?"
"I'd rather prefer your fate to mine, if you don't mind. - Care to swap?"
The boy blinked.
"You'd rather have fame, fortune, and a "destiny" who kills you dead in the end? Not to mention it's a "she", you know. Find your dream-girl and she kills you?"
"Well, what I should be asking if you would put up with a "fate" which says you'll keep betraying everything except the most important stuff..."
The boy thought about it.
"Well, alright, then. - I'd rather not be killed by my dream-woman, if I actually manage to get to meet her..."
"So we switch?"
" - Very well."
"Witnessed!"
Seiran piped up, and Onodera and Djibril and - even his cat? Weird beyond belief - nodded along to that.
Two months later, Onodera was dead, technically accidentally, falling down a very long drop of stairs in a nearby shrine-cum-memorial park. Six weeks after that, Djibril's Cat breathed it's last - and a certain roommate of his was frantic.
Where, where, where was Muruta Azrael when he needed him, damnit!
"Seiran, stop playing around - where is he?"
"I don't know, alright?"
The little purple-haired boy snorted.
"Do you think I want to handle him like this? Darn, the cat was older then he is, he should have known it wouldn't live for ever -"
Some hours later, Muruta came back, and the next day was the cats funeral. Djibril put in some of her favorite cat-toys and towels in with her, as well as flowers, to be cremated.
The boy wasn't quite sure just why he was attending the funeral, but attend he did.
(Lose you will, and find again you will, for evermore - )
He thought about Onodera, then, who'd been one of the few people in school to come in on a scholarship, had looked like a hamster and had been smart and laughing and wrote novels with cat-maids in them to make Djibril laugh, and had been mean beyond most people's imaginations to those he considered enemies, who -
Who shouldn't have died...
Even the cat had lived longer then he had.
He couldn't cry, though. Not at a cats funeral.
Many years after he left that particular school forever...
Things had not gone well, the snow was coming down thick and fast, and the man known as Lord Djibril was ready to blow a gasket. Or would have been, if he'd had the strength.
Blowing a gasket was somewhat harder to do if one didn't even have enough strength to pull oneself off a dumpster. He didn't even want to think what condition his clothes were in.
And that...."eeeeee"ing.
It went on and on, and stopped only to start again... Damn it, if he became permanently hearing-impaired...
Eeeeeeeeeee. Eeeeeeeeee. Eeeeeeeeeeeeee......
Damn it, damn the universe, damn operations that go off the deep end on one, damn...
He looked, then. And stared.
...Something was moving.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
The people who worked for Section Chief Djibril knew better then to ask him idiotic questions.
But still...
"Hey."
"...Yeah?"
"...Why is there a drowned rat in a chicken sandwich box on the Boss's desk?"
"You have ear mites. I've had you de-wormed and de-fleaed and de-everythinged, but you still have ear mites. Idiot thing." The gloved hands - well, of course he'd be gloved, it'll play hell with his manicure if he tried to groom his cat bare-handed - expertly squished some kind of brown cream into the little fur-scraps ears. The things "eeee"'d.
Muruta Azrael stared at his computers screen, and sighed. Well, there was nothing in the "rules and regs" about taking care of one's cat on one's desk - especially since technically, a certain Section Chief Djibril wasn't even on work shift, now. Even if this was rather - inconvenient.
On one hand - the fact that a certain "cousin" of his had actually started keeping a cat again was a good thing, in his opinion. He needed something to take care of, after all the deaths - uh, better not think about that or he might mention it by mistake. Brrr. Even if it was this black ugly little thing that looked more like a half-dead rat then a cat, with weepy eyes to boot.
On the other hand, at times like this - Well, let's see, it wasn't like his "cousin" was doing something especially dangerous or messy with the kitten now, so it should be alright to try to catch his attention. He'd probably just put him back to the end of the short line if he was doing something like feeding or cleaning up after the cat, but as things were - He tapped his computer, before he could change his mind, and waited.
Djibril started, and took the kitten off his desk in one smooth motion as his com bell-toned him.
"- Excuse me, Mr Azrael..."
"Never mind, Section Chief Djibril. Report."
Several months later, Muruta Azrael was looking at the same cat on his com screen, again. Slightly larger and fluffier, with pretty golden eyes which still dripped slightly...
"You again? I don't need you."
The thing simply meowed, and batted at the screen.
"Silly thing. What's wrong? Your owner should be waiting for me..."
It was nerve-wracking, in some ways. He'd never wished more he could be in two places at once... Not that he could have just let anybody else handle the final - or at least he hoped it would be final - battle against PLANT and those Coordinators. No matter how many people had objected... Including a certain "cousin" he was waiting for now.
What the hell was wrong? Muruta sighed. Lordrett was usually dependable to a fault, about this kind of thing.
He commed his "cousin"s code, again. And the kitten simply meowed, and batted at the screen.
Exactly the same way it had before.
Muruta froze.
Was he paranoid, or was he not? Oh, hell, he knew the answer, paranoia was a survival characteristic in his line of work - Muruta swore and started typing furiously. "Calling all Hellcats, calling all Hellcats, I want a status report on one Section Chief L. Djibril, now immediately!"
The "Hellcats" were de facto one L. Djibril's personal goon team, if they didn't know, nobody did - The answer was slow and fuzzy in coming, but come it did.
"This is SA Kleinwald reporting, sir. Is t' the Bigbossie?"
He could barely see the orange-haired woman, the picture was so fuzzy. "According to your termionology, yes. - What happened!"
There was a sigh, audibly. "Some o' General Linkai's people tried to arrest the Bossie, sir. We stopped 'em, but we hadda run..."
Muruta Azrael swore. And swore again. Damnitdamnitdamnitdamnit.
"They... Said it was Y'orders, sir."
(Fuck No)
"- No it bloody well wasn't. Let me talk to Lordrett, now."
"He's gettin patched up now - but alright. Wait a sec, sir?"
His "cousin" looked rattled, but not to badly hurt. The cat, on the other hand...
"... Mr Azrael. ... Muruta."
"I. Authorized. Nothing."
There was a wary nod, at that.
"And... Alright, are you recording this? Do so - I'm from this moment giving you blanket authorization to do what you must to keep alive and keep my - our - support base intact as much as possible, do you get that?"
Lordrett's eyes widened. "What? I - "
"Just do it, I'm counting on you. Go kick Linkai to the netherhells if you must - just keep the fort, alright?"
His "cousin" nodded, eyes wide.
"Now go do it. Muruta Azrael, out!"
Muruta leaned against the chair, groaning. Linkai, Linkai, damn you - Alright. Now to set up some kind of distraction...
Almost a hour later, Muruta looked up. He'd done everything he could think of, and even he had to sleep sometimes.
He wandered into the corridor - and nearly bumped right into...
A dark-haired woman in a bathrobe. She was half floating in the low gravity, leaning against the wall, and was more then half asleep.
...The hell?
It took him a while to figure out this was actually the thorny lady captain of the good Dominion, AKA his de facto flagship. She looked utterly different, with her hair framing her face, relaxed... Though not too relaxed, he noticed.
"Captain...Captain Badgiruel? Shouldn't you be sleeping in your room..."
And she still didn't wake up. What the hell.
...Just where was her room, anyway?
"Natarle?"
She murmured a name, then. Not his.
He wished it hadn't been a name he knew, though. Muruta Azrael ended up banging cans together from across the corridor, so she would wake up without realizing anybody had seen her. He did wonder what the hell he was doing. It didn't stop him from trying to convince her that he was right, though.
And she did listen. At least, a little.
It did turn out to be both their downfalls, but then, many things are.
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(Posted Sun, 04 Jun 2006 19:18)
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