My Will

Chapter Five

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“Yamamoto-Sama will see you now.”

Ame leapt to her feet the instant she heard the announcement. To call her eager would have been the understatement of the century. Yes, she was indeed eager, but that didn’t even begin to cover the excitement that had been surging throughout her body since the previous night.

Ever since she had heard Tressa’s amateur sidekick utter the name of the new gang and their intentions, Ame had been filled with a strong sense of excitement and determination that she hadn’t felt in ages. It was like having a job, which was something she had been lacking since her ‘death’ nearly three years ago.

The girl smiled lightly to herself, pushing blonde locks from her face. She liked her job, and was probably one of the very few in the world that did. Though it seemed somewhat sadistic and immoral, Ame actually enjoyed delivering death to those who had been so carefully chosen for such a fate. She reveled in the hunt, the chase where she pursued her ‘job’ like a lioness pursued her prey; and she absolutely adored the empowered sensation of destroying the scum of the earth after the said chase.

Though, what she dealt with now was much more than a job. The stakes were higher than just the death of a sleazy drug-dealer and an enormous wad of cash. No, the price on this situation was much higher. If Ame lost, she would lose everything: her dignity, her life, the life of the one she lov-

Ame gave an abrupt shake of her head, tossing blonde tresses around vigorously. No getting mushy, she reminded herself. Treat it like a job. Only a job.

Raking a hand through her long hair, the girl blew out a stream of air to calm herself. She needed to remain cool and composed, especially now that she was in the presence of a possible ally. One wrong move and they might take back their offer, leaving Ame and Chris to fend for themselves. That -not to put too fine of a point on it- would be bad.

---

“Ready?”

Ame whipped her head around, a quizzical look overtaking her features. “Of course.”

Chris returned the gesture with a gentle smile. “Good, me too.” He paused in silence, a thoughtful smile crossing his lips. “But, umm… what does Aka no Ryuu mean, anyway?”

“Ch‘.” Ame snorted. “Red Dragon. Unoriginal, if you ask me.” She tossed back golden locks with a flick of her hand. “I mean really, if they‘re going to be like that, they might as well call themselves the Daffodils or the Badgers, or…”

A wispy sigh flew from Chris’s lips, and he gave a small shake of his head as Ame rambled on. Did he trust her enough to speak to the leader of this new ally? What if she made a fool of herself and they denied their pleas for help? The chances of that happening were disturbingly high…

“…Or the Clouds, or the Walrus-”

“Ame.”

“What?”

“Stop.”

“No.”

Chris gave a roll of his eyes and pushed a hand through his light brown hair, aiming his focus on Ame as they prepared to step through the doors of the Aka no Ryuu’s office. “Are you sure you can do this?”

The female cocked an eyebrow. “Do what?”

“…Ame…”

“What? We‘re doing something?” Her eyes widened with feigned shock, mouth slightly ajar. “Oh my god, you‘re kidding me! I‘m so confused and disoriented, somebody hold me!”

Chris stared, eyes wide and filled with skepticism.

The girl snorted, smirking brightly as she rolled her shoulders back. “Ch‘. Chill out. I‘ve done this a million times before; it‘s a piece of cake.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. We‘ll be fine.” Ame paused, casting a sideways glance at Chris. “But, for future references, in the case of an emergency, you will be used as a human shield.”

Chris blinked, a bit of dry laughter seeping through his lips as he slapped a hand over his eyes. “Ame…”

“What? I took twobullets for you; the least you could do is return the favor!” She clipped him lightly on the shoulder. “Wimp.”

Chris allowed his hand to fall away, and stared at Ame with a raised eyebrow. “You know what, Ame-”

The clearing of a throat quickly shook them from their haphazard bickering. Both emerald and hazel gazes alike snapped to the front, locking on the secretary who had only just minutes ago given them their cue to follow. They had almost forgotten he was there…

Well, Chris had almost forgotten he was there; Ame, on the other hand, had forgotten entirely.

And she showed as much. “You‘re still here?” The girl cocked an eyebrow, unfazed and unaffected by the rudeness of her words.

The secretary made an uncomfortable shift from one foot to the other, clearing his throat anxiously and fiddling with his tie. “Erm…”

“There is no need for you to entertain these guests any longer, Shiro,” a silky voice seeped out from behind the man, coming in fluent threads of Japanese. Ame cocked an eyebrow, having only caught every other word of the statement. She was a bit rusty at the language, after all.

Shortly after the smooth statement, a middle-aged man of Japanese heritage stepped slowly out of the room behind the secretary. Short, black hair was slicked back simply, and brown eyes glittered as they locked on Chris and Ame.

The man smiled. “Konnichiwa, Ame-san. Anderson-san,” he spoke with a thick accent and nodded. “I am Yamamoto.” Nodding again, he gave a polite bow.

To Chris’s mass surprise, Ame actually did what was expected of her and bowed as well, a grateful smile touching her pink lips. Chris followed suit, bowing slowly to imitate Ame, before raising and returning his glance to Yamamoto. The Japanese man seemed hardly aware of his presence- his focus was on the girl.

The girl tossed a wave of blonde and red hair behind her, arms falling limply at her sides. “A pleasure,” she said, and Chris was shocked by the politeness and respect in her voice. “I expect that I won‘t be required to speak in Japanese, as I am extremely unpracticed in the language…?” She offered a sheepish smile, head tilted slightly to the side.

A small, amused smile crossed Yamamoto’s lips, and he nodded gently. “As you wish.”

Ame nodded as well, eyes closing in light of the gesture. “Domo arigato.”

With yet another nod of his head, Yamamoto turned and began to walk back into the room from which he had come, signaling with an idle hand for Ame and Chris to follow. The two did as instructed and followed silently, just a few steps behind the Japanese man- the ally in question.

Chris shot a glance to his side, eyeing the girl that walked there. A confident smile graced her lips, and emerald eyes twinkled gently as she stared directly ahead of her, not allowing herself to be distracted from the key motive.

Chris was impressed. Not only was Ame an incredible actress -able to act polite in situations that required such manners- but she was actually paying attention and following orders. How rare of an occasion was this? Did Chris need to order a bottle of champagne to celebrate this momentous occurrence?

Once he and Ame had stepped inside of Yamamoto’s office, the two found themselves being closed in. Chris shot a glance over his shoulder at the closed French doors, swallowing a small lump in his throat. Well… no turning back now. His gaze roamed to Ame, who stood still and tentative, awaiting further instruction. He smiled lightly. Ame, work your magic.

“Please, have a seat.”

Chris tore his gaze from the blonde-haired girl to see Yamamoto at his desk at the other end of the room, which was quite spacious, now that Chris had managed to take a look. At least twelve other men stood in the large compartment, hovering around the desk as silent and obedient statues.

Chris couldn’t help but also notice a girl among them, hardly a teenager. Long, raven hair cascaded down her back, and her face was like stone, dark eyes narrowed and lips pursed in a permanent frown. Perhaps she was Yamamoto’s daughter…? It would definitely explain the sour look on her face. Very few children enjoyed being dragged to work with their parents.

Shaking away the absentminded thoughts, Chris found his feet carrying him in the direction of the desk. He and Ame each took a seat across from Yamamoto, sitting slowly and quietly so as not to show any disrespect to the men.

Yamamoto released a small bit of mirthless laughter as he situated himself in his chair, casting a backwards glance to the girl behind him. “Kami-sama, Matsumoto-san, you‘re a statue.” He returned his focus to his visitors. “You would think it would kill the girl to smile.” The said girl frowned, but did not move to defend herself. Instead she turned her head away, face still fixed into a deep grimace.

“So… your friend, Giovanni-san, has told me of a request you have.” Yamamoto leaned back in his chair, hands clasped in his lap as he watched Ame expectantly.

The girl nodded, emerald eyes never leaving Yamamoto’s brown ones. Her gaze was sincere. “That is correct,” she spoke formally and slowly, a stark contrast to her normally hurried and slurred slang. A quiet laugh came from her lips and she continued, “In a strange turn of events, the assassin has become the target.”

Yamamoto tilted his head to the side, a curious, and somewhat amused, smile tainting his lips. “Is that so?”

“It is,” Ame confirmed. “Normally I would take care of it myself, but the stakes are greater-” Chris couldn’t help but noticed Ame’s green eyes dart in his direction before returning to Yamamoto’s. “-And I can‘t afford any mistakes.”

Yamamoto nodded knowingly, brown eyes falling to a stack of paper on his desk that neither Ame nor Chris had really paid any mind to. “I see…” A hand lifted to turn the page as the man’s eyes studied the writing there. “And the gang that you are in a quarrel with would be… the Mystics?”

“That is correct.” Ame breathed a small sigh, bowing her head in confirmation.

“Aye… The Aka no Ryuu has a strange relationship with the Mystics,” Yamamoto murmured gently, fingers pressing against his right temple. “They didn‘t quite like sharing territory in Seattle, apparently. Tried to flush us out.” The Japanese man snorted, lips curved upward in a distasteful sneer.

Ame didn’t say anything. Her eyes remained focused in front of her, fixed and emotionless. A stray strand of hair fell down her face, just to the side of her eye, but the girl made no motion to knock it away. Chris smiled slightly. She was on a mission.

After a moment of silence between the three and a rustle of papers, Yamamoto continued, “I suppose that you have an odd relationship with them as well, Ame-san?”

Ame nodded. “Yes,” she spoke softly. “Just a few years ago, an attempt was made on Mr. Anderson‘s life. I-”

“Oh, yes, yes, I‘ve heard plenty of that,” Yamamoto interrupted with a wave of his hand. Chris noticed Ame’s lips purse as she held back the rest of her story. “But, I mean… what happened in Hawaii? I have heard just small bits and pieces of the story.” He reclined in his chair, staring at Ame with immense interest. “It would be interesting to hear it right from the source.”

Ame’s eyes narrowed momentarily, and Chris saw her hands clench slightly. “If it is all right, Yamamoto-sama, I would wish not to disclose such information.”

Yamamoto’s eyes widened curiously, though his brow furrowed in slight annoyance. “Is that so? Pity… I must say that I am a bit of a fool for gossip.” He gave a small roll of his shoulders, running a hand over his slick hair. His eyes remained on Ame.

Chris tilted his head curiously to the side, eyes wide and mildly confused. What were they talking about…?

“Though, I still would like to know… how long did they keep you? How did you get out? Did you really kill all-”

“That‘s enough.”

Chris snapped his gaze in Ame’s direction at the sound of her hardly contained anger. Her hands lay clenched into fists in her lap, and her head was bowed; not out of respect, but to hide the mask of hurt and rage on her porcelain face.

But, Chris could see it. He could see the way her brow was knitted, eyes narrowed dangerously as they bore holes into her lap. He could see the way her jaw clenched and unclenched as she fought to hold back whatever words had risen in her throat.

Yamamoto‘s brows raised, clearly shocked by Ame‘s abrupt demand. “Very well…” he spoke with a feathery sigh. “Though, I am quite curious…”

“No.” All respect had left the girl’s demeanor and voice.

“I have useful information, you know,” Yamamoto persisted, hands clasped on the desk in front of him. “Along with a small squad that I‘m sure would prove useful in your efforts…”

Ame’s jaw clenched. “With all due respect, Yamamoto-sama, this is not a game.” She snorted in light indifference, though her eyes still sent daggers. “This is bullshit.”

“On the contrary, Ame-san,” Yamamoto replied. “This is all a game. Cat and mouse, correct?” A small glint darted across his brown eyes, and a sly smile crossed his lips. “Or shall we play twenty questions?”

Ame frowned. “We shan‘t.”

“Saa…” Yamamoto sighed lightly. “Then I shan‘t help you.”

Chris noticed Ame’s frown darken, and the girl’s body gave a small shake. She muttered something.

Yamamoto leaned forward expectantly. “Nani?”

Ame‘s lips curled back in a silent snarl, eyes wrenched shut. “What do you want to know?”

“Ah, good girl.” Yamamoto smiled softly, eyes twinkling. “How long?”

“Five days.”

Chris cocked his head to the side, confusion settling into his hazel eyes.

“In that cell? How big was it again?”

“Three by five.”

Chris continued to gape silently, brow knotted in curiosity and confusion. What are they talking about…?

“Did you do as they say? Did you ki-”

“Yes.” The way Ame’s voice was forced out showed that the topic was no longer up for discussion, a topic she could stand no more. Chris watched as the girl worried her lower lip with her teeth. “I did,” she added in a growl.

“Hai, hai…” Yamamoto nodded thoughtfully, eyes rolling to the ceiling before refocusing on the distressed blonde before him. “Well, a pleasure doing business with you, Ame.” The man rose to his feet abruptly, Ame jumping up as well.

She glanced up meekly, a small amount of light playing in her green eyes. “Then you will assist us?”

Yamamoto nodded. “I will be in touch with Giovanni-san.” He walked away from his desk and towards the doors to his office, beckoning Ame and Chris to him. “We will work out a plan over the next couple of days.” He bowed. “Ame-san.” The girl reluctantly returned the gesture. “Anderson-san.” The two men bowed respectfully.

Yamamoto nodded slowly and opened the door to his office, lips still curved into a gentle smile. “Sayonara, minna-san.” With that, Ame and Chris strode out of the office and into the lobby, and Yamamoto slowly closed the door behind them.

Chris’s gaze slowly shifted to the girl beside him, curious, and yet hesitant to know…

“Fucking asshole,” Ame muttered out before he could say anything. Her hands were balled into fists, and strands of golden hair fell in her eyes and around her face. Her teeth were gritted painfully as she stared at the ground, not uttering another word.

“Ano, Ame-San…” The male secretary from before stepped forward.

Ame whirled on him, eyes alit and blazing like an inferno. “Don‘t you start with me.”

And, with that last comment unleashed, Ame turned on her heel and darted for the door that bore the stairwell, Chris following closely behind with a groan.

---

Rain pelted against the glass, and thunder bellowed in the sky beyond the windowpanes. A dark, stormy veil had befallen Seattle, sending all inhabitants back to their homes. Well, either to their homes or the Starbucks on the corner. Most opted for the latter.

A girl watched the chaos outside with soft eyes, wrapped up in a warm blanket on the couch. Her legs were hidden somewhere within the fleece, and her hands lay lifeless in her lap. Pink lips opened slightly, but almost instantly closed. She had nothing to say.

In fact, she hadn’t had anything to say for the past three hours. She and Chris had left the Columbia Tower just as the rain had begun, and had reached their hotel room just as the onslaught had come to its worst. The trek had been made in complete silence, neither knowing quite what to say. And if they had indeed known what to say, it wasn’t like they would have wanted to say it.

A small shiver crept down Ame’s spine, and the girl pulled the blanket high upon her shoulders. The meeting with the Aka no Ryuu had been everything she would have never expected. Most gangs of high prestige -or of even mild respect- never dared to question her past, let alone the last three painstaking years.

The girl buried her face in the warm fleece that surrounded her. She hadn’t been prepared for it. Hell, she was never prepared for anything. Nearly everything she did was made on the spot; she was a professional when it came to playing it by ear.

But the encounter with the Aka no Ryuu had been too hard. He had questioned about something so dark, so personal, that it shook Ame into enraged silence. The blonde’s dormant hands curled into fists. That little bastard. How dare he…

“Ame?”

The beckoned girl lifted her glance to see Chris standing in the kitchen, hazel eyes glowing softly with the light of the room. Ame’s own emerald eyes widened slightly, and her eyebrows uplifted. It was the first either of them had said to each other since they had gotten home.

“Uhh-” She cleared her throat of the bile that had formed there. “Yeah?”

With a shrug of his shoulders, he shook his head. “I don‘t know.”

Ame snorted. “You should only speak when you know what you‘re going to say.”

This time Chris snorted. A mirthless smirk crossed his lips. “Oh, like you do?”

She paused. “…Shut up.”

“As you wish.” The man turned away from her and back to the soup he was trying desperately to make worthy of the two of them.

A wispy sigh left Ame’s lips, going unnoticed by the man in the kitchen. With a roll of her eyes and an inward groan, she rolled onto her side, lying on the plush couch. Golden waves of hair cascaded over the side, and she stared blankly at the coffee table, for lack of better place to aim her gaze.

My fault, she decided, eyes closing as she blew out another sigh. Why do I always do that…?

“Ame?”

The girl looked up. “Is there an echo?”

“Maybe. Does silence echo?” Chris set down the wooden spoon he had been using to stir the soup. “Because you haven‘t said a goddamned thing since we left the tower.”

“Neither have you.”

“Maybe it‘s because I‘m waiting for some kind of explanation as to what happened.” He ran a hand through light brown hair, taking a small step towards the couch Ame was laying on. “Ame, you haven‘t told me a thing about what happened to you in these past three years. I don‘t know what‘s going on. I don‘t know what‘s wrong.”

Ame winced slightly at the tone of Chris’s voice, never failing to notice the hurt in his eyes. “It‘s nothing.” She pulled herself into a sitting position. “It‘s personal.”

“Personal?” Chris breathed out, an eyebrow raised. “So personal that everyone knows about it? Or just personal enough that everyone except me knows about it?” He took another step into the living room.

Ame winced again. “Chris…”

“What?” The man took the final step to Ame’s couch, settling down in his knees beside her. “Ame, whatever happened to you must have been bad. I need to know.”

The blonde gave a shake of her head, a small laugh flying from her lips. “It‘s nothing…”

“It‘s obviously something.” Chris shifted so that he could look Ame directly in the eye. “Ame, I want to know. Why do you have so many scars all over… why do you have claustrophobia… why do you lose control so easily when people insult you?” He shook his head. “Don‘t tell me it‘s nothing.”

“But it is nothing,” she protested, daring to avert her eyes. Just tell him…

Chris shook his head. “It might be nothing to you, but it‘s something to me.”

Ame glanced up shyly, head slightly lowered and normally glittering eyes dull. “Why?”

“I want to help you.” He gave another shake of his head, tentatively reaching out a hand and taking Ame’s inside of it. “I want to know what hurt you so I can help you.”

The girl’s cheeks flushed lightly with the contact, but she quickly shook away the sensation. “But there‘s nothing you can do.”

“You don’t know that,” Chris counted, running his thumb over her fingers soothingly.

She snorted. Unless you‘re the cure for the past, then I do… “You wouldn‘t…” A bit of dry laughter escaped her, and she stared at her lap. “You wouldn‘t understand.”

This time Chris laughed. “Ame, I don‘t understand seventy-five percent of the things you say or do.” He offered a tentative smile, reaching out a hand and gently tipping Ame’s chin so that her reluctant gaze met his. “But maybe this is something I could understand…”

She sighed. “Chris, it‘s not…”

“Try me.”

“Chris, no… you wouldn‘t…”

“Ame, nothing you say can make me not want to hear this,” he interjected lightly. “Please.” He took her hand in both of his then. “I‘m begging you.”

Ame allowed her gaze to drift to his face, falling on his pleading eyes. The hazel depths were glowing with curiosity and concern- concern for her. She sighed. “God dammit…” Chris seemed to perk up at the defeated curse.

The blonde sighed again, closing her eyes as she leaned back against the couch. She pushed long strands of hair out of her face and behind her ear with her free hand. Where to start? The beginning, idiot…

“All right… After I, umm… after I died-” She frowned, not liking her choice of words. “-I went to Hawaii. I went to Oahu, thinking I could blend into the city, with the people… And distract myself, of course.” She didn’t bother to say what she had to distract herself from. It was obvious, after all.

“I kept in contact with G,” she continued. “He called me with updates concerning you.” She felt his hands gently squeeze her own. “And with updates on the Griffins- every week until they finally disassembled about a year ago. It was then that I, umm… let my guard down.”

Music blared from the speakers, pounding through every inch and to every corner of the unbelievably small club. The clash of drums and guitars, along with a soft chorus of voices and electric beats was audible among the crowd. It was something of a mix between techno and rock, though nobody really cared what it was called. It was music. It was loud. And that was all.

Ame stood leaning against the wall, a delighted smirk on her lips and a gleam in her eye. A silver can glinted in one hand while the other was placed safely on her hip.

She took a sip of the brownish liquid in her can, grimacing slightly, but not sputtering it out. Drinking alcohol wasn’t exactly her forte, but it certainly kept her from setting herself apart from the rest of the partiers. She didn’t want to stand out, after all…

Taking one last swig of her drink, she crushed the tin can in her hand and settled it on the speaker beside her, though the trembling bass almost instantly knocked it off. Stepping away from the wall, the blonde slowly made her way through the crowd, walking aimlessly throughout the room.

My hair’s getting longer, she thought absently, tucking a strand of sun-colored hair behind her ear. It wasn’t exactly what many would call long yet, but it was beginning to get there. I wonder if Chris would like it…?

Ame quickly shook away the thought. Intervention! she screamed in her mind, promptly pinching her right arm. She winced slightly at the sharp pain there, staring at the new mark on the appendage. There were about fifty other identical marks there, just barely visible. All were proof of the times she had thought of Chris in the past week. Of course, the hundreds of marks from the weeks before had long faded.

With a gentle sigh and toss of her hair, Ame rolled her eyes skyward and walked out onto the dance floor. The next hours were spent partying (like it was 1999!), dancing, and drinking herself silly. It wasn’t like she had to drive herself anywhere or do anything with caution between now and the time she went to bed. Her hotel room was just down the street, after all, and her motorcycle was back in California. God, she missed that thing…

Another sigh was pressed past her lips, and Ame’s eyes drifted towards the hardly visible clock in the corner of the room. 4:30. Another hour and a half until the sun came up. That gave Ame plenty of time to sneak home in the caress of night without pulling attention to herself, and also enough time to put blockades in her windows- it was a bitch trying to sleep in when you lived in Hawaii.

Tucking a strand of yellow hair behind her ear (and making a mental note to get a hair-band), the girl made a path for the door, cutting through the crowd without so much as an ‘excuse me.’ Not like they would have heard her or anything. The music in the room was deafening, and the hearing that the lucky few still possessed was minimal.

Finally she found the door. Pressing the heavy, black object out of her way, the blonde pressed into the humid night air (though, it was definitely cooler than the atmosphere inside of the club). A gust of wind surrounded her, tossing light locks into her sweaty face and sticking to the back of her neck. Would she have enough time to shower before the sun came up and she joined the vampire world…?

Staring up at the lightless sky -most stars were blotted out from the glow of the heart of Honolulu- Ame brought up a small hand and pulled the hair away from her neck. The sun had probably already come up in California… She could only wonder what Chris was doing this very instant. Was he at work? Was he even awake? Was he brushing his teeth, or eating a bowl of raisin bran, or taking a shower-

“Intervention,” Ame said the word aloud this time, quickly pinching her arm once again. “God dammit.” She slammed a fist against the wall of the alleyway she inhabited, gritting her teeth as she stared at the ground. She needed sleep. Now. Anything to distract her from these heart-wrenching thoughts…

Removing her hand from the wall, but not bothering to lift her gaze, she began walking away from the club. She chose not to join the main roads, however, opting for danger opposed to blending for the night. Her feet moved slowly and almost haphazardly beneath her, and for once she didn’t fight the thoughts that came.

Does he miss me? She allowed herself the thought without a brutal pinch. Does he know that I did this for him…? Somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear footsteps behind her, but she ignored them. Has he stopped bringing me flowers yet…?

With a small sigh and a wry smile, Ame shook her head, willing away the saddened thoughts. Does he still dress the same? she found herself wondering then. I wonder if he still has the same haircut… Maybe he went emo and grew it out… She snorted at the idea. Chris didn’t strike her as the type to go with the juvenile delinquent styles…

More footsteps. Were people following her or were they simply waiting for her to leave so they could pull out their stash and bongs…?

Shaking away the thoughts, Ame allowed her mind to stray back to Chris’s image. Good lord, he was gorgeous… Sure his definite sense of fear at all times hadn’t been the most attractive thing to her, but his genuine wimpy character was almost… cute.

A small bark of laughter flew from Ame’s lips, and she shook her head in disbelief. I’m such an idiot. A thousand miles away, and I’m still thinking about him…

The footsteps behind her quickened, but went ignored.

I wonder if he thinks of me…

The footsteps were running now, approaching Ame with a speed that her alcohol-induced state of mind could hardly comprehend.

I wonder…

The footsteps drowned out her thoughts.

…If he loves me.

The obnoxiously loud footsteps finally got to her. She turned around to give the stalkers a piece of her mind, just in time to see a fist flying at her face; and then the world went black.

A few hours later the girl was awoken with a splitting headache. Whether from the inevitable hangover or the punch she had received not long ago, she didn’t know. All she did know was that her head hurt worse than hell, and she couldn’t see a thing.

“What the… fuck…?” her voice spoke softly, feebly. Her entire body ached.

Clambering to her knees with minimal strength, Ame blinked a few times to try and clear her vision. No such luck. It was as if she had been dropped into a big, steel box, allowing no light to reach her.

A shiver shook her small body. This situation was unnerving. And the coppery taste that seemed to be permanently attached to her tongue didn’t help to ease her anxious feelings.

She spat, though she knew not what for. If she had indeed spat out blood or not, she couldn’t tell.

“Hello?” She couldn’t see clearly, but perhaps someone was out there in the darkness…?

Silence was her only reply, if you could call it that.

“Shit,” Ame cursed beneath her breath. Pushing off with her hands, she slowly lifted herself to her feet. Her legs wobbled, and her head began to spin as she straightened, but she quickly steadied herself against the nearby wall. She hadn’t even realized it was there…

There’s got to be a door around here… I must have come home drunk and locked myself in the closet. Yeah, that’s it… Stumbling around the room, blind and aching, the girl groped for the doorknob. From what she could tell, the room she inhabited was fairly small, so it was only a matter of time until…

She found the doorknob. At first a wave of relief washed over, but then she tried to turn in. The cold metal in her hand did not turn to the left nor right. It was… locked?

Ame’s eyes widened in the dark, and a hand flew to the holster at her hip; her first reaction was to defend herself against whoever had put her in this prison. But, the sheath was empty, lacking her pistol or any other form of protection.

“What the hell…” Ame, not being one to overreact or panic, ran a hand through her blonde hair, walking in tight circles through the room. It only took a few steps to walk the length of the entire thing, and Ame found herself comparing the situation to a tiger in the zoo: trapped and anxious.

After only a moment of pacing like the caged animal she was, a pang of nausea struck Ame’s stomach. Crumbling to the floor, she fell to her hands and knees and retched, emptying the contents of her stomach. Alcohol and walking in circles most certainly did not mix… Alas, Ame had discovered this a little too late.

Hours passed as the girl sat in her cell, eyelids drooping with sleep that refused to come, and stomach churning with nothing but air. She had vomited a few times within the four or five hours left alone, until there was nothing in her stomach to give up. The constant heaving had left her dehydrated and hungry, and the smell of her own half-digested food and drink only added to the sickness in her stomach.

Dropping her head back against the wall, Ame stared blankly at the ceiling she couldn’t see. How high was it? Seven feet? Twenty, maybe? Hell, it could have gone on forever and Ame wouldn’t have known. She hated not knowing.

After what seemed like several more hours (but could have very well been just a few minutes), Ame was greeted with something sweet and pure, something she had been craving: light. The door she had tried desperately to open clicked as it was unlocked and opened, allowing just a sliver of light to seep in.

But the light wasn’t what Ame had hoped for. The illumination was blinding and stung her vulnerable eyes that had grown used to the dark. Her eyelids instantly flew over the tender emerald orbs in an effort to shield them, but Ame did her best to press them open again. Who was that standing in the doorway…?

“Ah, so you‘re awake,” a gruff voice spoke without emotion. Ame couldn’t make out the features of his face. Her vision had been greatly impaired by the exchange of darkness for light.

“Who the hell are you?” she asked with a frown, putting a hand over her eyes.

From what she could see, the man smiled. “Your captor.”

Before Ame could say anything more, not a threat, not even a sarcastic wisecrack, three other masses appeared in the doorway, blocking the light.

And Ame could see. She saw as the four men rushed into her tiny cell, taking advantage of her alcohol-induced weakness and dizzy state of mind. She watched in terror as they attempted to tear off her clothes, which had been plastered to her body with her own sweat.

And she tried to fend them off. She kicked and punched, sending a couple of the men temporarily out of commission.

Then she watched again as fists flew at her stomach and solar plexus, beating her into submission before the ache of her body was too much to stand. She fell back onto the ground, her head hitting the floor with a sickening smack that made her see fireworks in her mind’s eye.

And then she could see no more as her room was plunged into darkness again. Nor could she hear anymore. All she could was feel: feel the men’s hands on her skin, their moist lips on hers, and feel the growing sensation of fear and despair growing inside of her.

The next few days went by as such. No food or water came. But visits from the men were frequent, sometimes as often as four times a day, and with as many as ten of them. Ame had grown to hate human contact, as well as the dark and four walls that had surrounded her for so long. She had also grown to know fear and depression, two emotions that had remained dormant for the majority of her life.

But not anymore.

“Let me out of here, you sons of bitches! Let me out or I‘ll break out and fucking kill you all!” Ame sat huddled next to a wall, fisted hands slamming repeatedly against the cold steel. Tears began to pour from her enraged emerald eyes. The solitude was driving her mad, and at the same time, she feared human company more than anything else.

“Let me the hell out of here!”

The walls around her were closing in, so tight that she could hardly breathe…

The suffocation she felt inside became too much, and the blonde released a shrill scream. Her small frame shook violently as crystal tears slid down her cheeks, mixing with her cold sweat.

“Let me out,” she whimpered softly, doubling over on the floor as she sobbed. Long hair fell into her face, shrouding the once angelic visage that now matched that of a prisoner of war. Not that anyone would have been able to see the terror and hatred in her eyes, anyway. Nobody ever could…

Two more days passed. The forty-eight hours were long and tortuous, and Ame had almost grown used to her daily fits of claustrophobia. Solitary confinement did things to your psyche, she found.

But, at last, salvation came.

A sliver of light appeared in her small chamber, and Ame almost instantly cowered in the corner. It was her first reaction, her instinct, to do so. To Ame, light meant men, and men meant pain.

Hiding in the corner with a small whimper, she cried out, “Leave me the fuck alone!”

“…Ame?”

The girl’s eyes instantly opened, tears already pooling there. That voice… It wasn’t the gruff voice of any of her captors, but a soft, familiar one. Turning weakly to the comforting sound, Ame squinted into the light.

“G…?”

Before another word was exchanged, the dark-haired man was on the floor with the girl, wrapping his arms around her in a protective, fraternal embrace. He cradled her close to him as she shrieked and wailed, though he didn’t know whether her tears were out of joy or agony.

“It‘s all right, Ame, you‘re okay,” he spoke soothingly, at the same time trying to convince himself. “It‘s okay… You‘re safe…”

He held her like that for several moments, waiting for a time that the girl would be able to speak in understandable sentences. Her words had often been caught in her throat, and she had choked on them, only able to sob incoherent phrases that Giovanni couldn‘t even begin to comprehend.

When the girl was finally able to speak, her cries having died down to a simple shiver, she whispered out in a fearful tone, “Where‘d they go?”

“Upstairs,” Giovanni explained quietly, running a hand over the girl’s matted hair. “With some of our men holding them.”

“Where am I?”

“A warehouse in the heart of Honolulu…” Giovanni kissed the top of Ame’s head comfortingly. “Don‘t worry, just rest; we‘ll be going soon-”

“Get me a gun.”

“What?” His eyes widened at her request.

“A gun,” Ame repeated roughly, “Get me a gun.”

Wanting to pacify the girl as much as he possibly could, Giovanni complied. He pulled a black pistol from the inside of his jacket. He was hesitant to give the device to such a distraught Ame, but trusted her enough to know that she knew what she was doing.

And it wasn’t long before she was on her feet. As if summoning strength out of thin air, Ame was up and running, dashing out of her cell and into the blinding light that had so often signaled her torment. She flew down the hall blindly, almost literally, until coming to a staircase and jetting up.

It wasn’t long before she found the men who had abducted her, along with her allies that had the scoundrels sitting in the middle of the room at gunpoint.

“Ame?” one of them said skeptically. “Ame, are you-”

The man’s words halted as a deafening boom rang through the room. One of Ame’s previous captors fell sideways onto the ground, blood pooling around his head. His comrades screamed.

“Fuck you!” Ame cried in rage, hot tears pressing past her already stinging eyes. She felt as if she’d fall to the ground, but kept her footing in favor of giving the pieces of filth what they deserved.

She fired off another shot, and then another, taking multiple men at a time. Her own allies did nothing to stop the massacre.

“I hate you!” the blonde screamed, her face red with her own anger and tears as she pulled the trigger again and again.

With at least a dozen empty shells on the ground, and more than a dozen corpses with them, Ame finally released the gun in her grip. It clattered to the ground, shortly followed by an earsplitting shriek. She screamed agony, falling to the ground as her legs would no longer support her.

She was enraged and afflicted, and terrified and lonely. But she felt no remorse. As she stared into the blood, the crimson substance displaying a vivid reflection of her own gaunt visage, she felt no regret. Not one bit. Not at all.

And all she could do was scream.

The silence in the room then was , Ame spoke again. “After that I figured I had nothing left,” She said softly, feeling reluctant tears prickling at the back of her eyes. She turned a watery gaze to Chris finally, after several moments of refusing to look at him. “Just my will to be with you again.”

Chris stared back, his eyes wide and also threatening to sprout tears. His lips parted, but no sound came through.

“I told you I didn‘t expect you to understand,” Ame spoke quickly, mistaking his sorrowful silence for confusion. “This was bad, I shouldn‘t have said-”

Her words were cut off as the girl was pulled into an abrupt embrace. Her head connected with Chris’s chest, but she felt no pain. She only felt the tears as they slid down her face.

“I‘m so sorry, Ame,” Chris choked out, his voice cracking. “I‘m so, so sorry.” He nestled his head against hers, and Ame could feel his strain as he held back the tears.

Ame‘s bottom lips quivered as she fought the tears, as she attempted to smile. “Chris, d-don‘t,” she stammered feebly.

He only shook his head, his hold on her tightening protectively.

A small gasp of a cry escaped Ame, and she bit her lip. “C-Chris, d-don‘t, you‘re g-going to m-make m-me cry…”

But it was too late. Before the words had even been uttered, Ame was sobbing uncontrollably, burying her face in Chris’s chest as he too cried. He stayed silent, but tears rolled down his cheeks- Ame could feel them in her hair.

“Chris, s-stop…” Ame begged through her tears. “I-I can‘t…”

He shook his head again, afraid that his voice wouldn’t work if he tried to speak.

“Chris…” Ame’s cries slowed for a brief moment as she opened her watery eyes. “I… I love you.”

His hold on her tightened as his response. He couldn’t speak. Not now. Not when he was so overcome with emotions he could hardly begin to name, that he could only cry like a child.

But, he made a silent promise to himself. He would stay by Ame. He wouldn’t allow her to fall into harm‘s way.

He would never let her be hurt again.

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Author’s notes: Oh my GOD, I love it! :dies: