Yuki Ishii

Code Name: Falcon
Age: 17~18
Birthday: Unknown
Height: 163.2cm
Weight: 41kg

He balanced the heavy brown parcel under his right arm uneasily.

The flight of stairs stretched out before the sweating teen; old, dingy and mossy. To top it off, the suffocating afternoon air threatened to smother him; hot and sizzling against his already sticky flesh.

Damn! Why the hell did I choose this f****** job? The youth angrily reflected, And why the f*** did the recipient choose this f****** place? Dilapidated, smelly and so out of the way! Obviously he never considered how we delivery boys had to sweat our ass off just to deliver his f****** parcel.

He finally reached his destination. A few impatient knocks on the decayed wooden door were responded with a tiny crack.

"Federal Express." He intoned monotonously.

The crack widened and the cool air rushed out to greet him. Not refreshing but somewhat musty and stale. He squinted his eyes to peer into the darken room for a better look.

A young girl suddenly stepped into his vision; not very tall, a head of striking flowing auburn hair; not a bombshell but attractive in a pleasant way.

"Here is your package, Miss." The signature was promptly signed prior the exchange of the parcel.

The door was slammed shut before he even finished his sentence.

The thick brown wrapping was quickly peeled off to unveil a brand new suitcase. Carefully, she undid the clasps at the sides.

It was empty.

Her left hand reached over the back of her jeans to pull out her Serrated Jaguar knife. Then it was edged at the insides of the case before the leather padding was skillfully sliced open with a twist of her hand to reveal……

……a wide assortment of metallic parts; made of blued steel, the reliable workmanlike model of a professional and five compact explosives; short fused to go off at approximately a quarter of an hour.

She paused briefly before assembling the parts into a sleek looking revolver, expertly modified so that it fitted her small hand. Then she stood up, legs spread and aimed at an imaginary target.

The cool blued steel felt strangely reassuring against her skin as she carefully poised the weapon. Satisfied, she pulled out a magazine of bullets from her front pouch and snapped it shut at its base before tucking her weapon away at the back of her jeans.

At that moment, her dark eyes rested upon her remaining inventory - the explosives. The security that Moravia had employed was extremely tight; hacking into his remote system would risk setting off the alarms; give her a night and she would resolve this problem. But time was a luxury she couldn't afford.

Getting past the 3^rd and last stage of access levels would ultimately trigger the alert, and this was where the explosives come in; they were to detonate at exactly that instance so as to throw their securities into confusion.

She knelt down, took them out of their Styrofoam packaging and placed them on the cracked wooden table beside her. Then she wearily reposed herself on the large creaky windowpane, staring blankly out of the sooty stained glass. She had many hours to kill before the execution of her next mission.

Outside, the sky was the color of zinc; dense as metal and corrosive as acid. Industrial soot from the nearby plants had blanked this rundown part of the neighborhood; colorless, murky, pungent and acrid. However, despite these polluted air, kids still came out and play.

And they played street basketball.

She silently watched them from the safety of her dwelling, thoughts springing unbidden into her mind. Random images flashed across her eyes; surrealistic, psychedelic and motley.

They were mostly pools of azure; crystal blue with a hint of gentleness in them. Then she remembered the cerulean depths in them, how they had haunted her day and night with their burning tenderness. Subconsciously, she touched the scar on her palm.

Abruptly, she thought of the lives she cruelly took, all in cold blood. Though she refused to admit, guilt had plagued and devoured her, slowly in its deliberate sluggishness, leaving her nearly lifeless in this hollow shell.

Somehow, she couldn't explain why she had openly defied the orders of Toshin Kuro Koshi, something she couldn't believe that she would do. Silence resistance was what she was capable of a few months ago……now?

He was just any guy, she had repeatedly told herself, kill him and get over it. However, deep inside, she knew she couldn't do it, no matter how many times she had tried to reason out to herself.

Then she fled from him.

She hoped that he would never find out the truth; the actuality of what she was, what she did for a living in order to sustain her lowly life.

Punishment would be melted, though in what form she didn't know. Her only comfort was that They had designated a new mission for her. This, she hoped, showed that she was still a serviceable instrument.

However, the recent gruesome murder of Hayama Sensei had violently disquieted her. Was it served as a warning for her or……? Nevertheless, she bitterly realized the irony of it all; she had tried to preserve a life of an honest man, driven to crime because of sheer desperation.

Now, she had caused the death of an entire family.

She involuntarily gripped the sides of the windowpane, wooden splinters puncturing her tender flesh as her white knuckled hold on them increased in pressure. Quietly, she held back hot tears.

Warmed by her body heat, the cool blued revolver seemed to pulse with a life of its own, as if her weakening strength had infused them with a kind of sentience.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

"Yo, Sen. You alright?" A worried voice asked.

As if broken from a trance, Sendoh blinked. "Huh?"

"Why are you staring at a tap?" You looked really kinda of stupid doing that.

"Hey man." He gave a friendly slap on his shoulder.

Koshino stared at his buddy in surprise, totally unprepared for the gravity and solemnity of his voice; it was the first time since he had known him.

"I need you to cover me; told my dad that I would be staying at your place for a few days……" Then on second thought, "……maybe for a week."

Koshino never asked him why, but his eyes said it all.

"……I have some private business to settle." He quietly added.

He silently looked at the taller boy before him. Somehow at the back of his mind, he knew that it would lead to this. "Sure……anytime Sen……anytime."

He slowly scanned his vicinity with circumspect eyes.

Eight, nine……ten.

A swarm of security guards began to filter out of the building, slowly taking up their positions in front of the colossal construction. The stoical youth took another cursory glance at his watch.

01:59:11.

I have to be right. There is no other way of locating her…… except to anticipate her next plan, her next move; her next kill. Fidgeting, he winced inwardly at his use of the last word.

Of course, she's a Hitokiri (assassin). That is what she does. But the fact was Sendoh didn't believe a single damn word from him. He wanted to get the truth from her himself; yes, from her very own lips.

If she was the one who murdered Hayama Sensei, then he would…….he would……turn her in to the Police of course. Make her give herself up, he thought, There is no other way, is there?

His fingers reached towards the heel of his combat boots and yanked out his trusty Randall knife. Then, he cautiously began to saw away the trip wire before him.

The steel wire easily gave way under his assault. Next, he clandestinely moved nearer to the old building, all his silent movements hidden by the shadows. He finally stopped behind a marble figurine.

Then he patiently waited.

Something was wrong.

She tried to shake off the ominous feeling in her bones. Was it her imagination overdrive or simply a precognition? She knew that her life hung precariously on the thin line between Life and Death and how many times had she overstepped that line, only to came back barely alive? Had such numerous turbulent experiences affected her delicate psychic so much that it was making her hallucinate things?

Gritting her teeth, she calmed herself. No, she must concentrate at the mission at hand. Before long, footsteps swiftly crossed the carpeted hallway.

The mission: to wipe out the harddisk contents so as to safeguard the sensitive information that both the government and the terrorists had dabbled their bloodied hands on. And she had to act fast; the strategically placed explosives will detonate in e.t.a. 15 minutes. Her gloved fingers briskly flickered over the keyboard with such urgency in her attempt to bypass the secured system……

In his hiding spot, Sendoh suddenly felt strangely discomforted and unsettled. Naze?

Carefully, he lowered himself to his knees and tried to relax. Then he closed his eyes, slowly feeling the material world part before him, to be replaced by Serene in its wake. Slowly, he gathered his Sight and felt something……

……thick, loathsome, vile and Evil.

Uncertain of what he had just sensed, he began probed deeper……

And saw a pair of white eyes.

Shocked beyond words, he took a minute to breathe deeply, willing his panic to subdue.

He thought he saw Death in those pearly orbits.

Without warning, a loud explosion blasted into the side of her body as the back of the apartment ignited into flames. The strength of the impact tore through the house, ripping it easily apart like a dollhouse. Her body slammed onto the balcony bars, pieces of glass shards, big and small, encrusted in her skin. Fragments of concrete floor smashed into her back again, her labored breathe frozen in her chest.

Chaos erupted.

Swarms of figures began to pour in and out; all the security guards scattered and thrown in confusion.

Sendoh quickly emerged from his hiding place and slipped into the burning building, unnoticed in the delirious melee.

She was about to pick herself up when, the balcony moaned; it was at the verge of collapse. Then, a thundering of another explosion caught the ruined balcony at its lower right. She instinctively braced herself as the cement rapidly crumbled under her feet. Frantically, her arms shot out to grab on to something, anything! But there was nothing to grip upon. The balcony bars broke asunder, snapping like twigs. A scream finally burst forth from her body, whether from pain or fear she wasn't sure. She felt rather then saw her left elbow smashed and ripped against a broken iron; one of those damn balcony bars.

Suddenly, she vaguely heard her name amid the deafening chaos. Then she saw a faint silhouette of a man outlined against the raging flames. He cried out her name again and grabbed her outstretched right arm just in time.

Time stilled to a stop, suspended at that very moment.

Minutes and seconds meant nothing as she regarded the mysterious male, his face still shrouded in the dark shadows……

"Ran?!" Her heart skipped a beat.

The voice was distinctively familiar. "Sen……Sendoh-kun?" She couldn't believe her ears.

Another pipe busted into flames, casting dancing shadows on them. At last, she saw those crystal blue eyes of his.

Then unexpectedly, another shadow roomed over them. Her eyes widened in horror when she recognized the visage behind him.

The dai-katana(a Japanese longsword) swooped down, making a vicious arc.

Sendoh saw it coming but there was no other choice. He instantly felt the crushing blow on the point of his right shoulder; the result of grinding of steel against flesh. Blood welled. Pain ran like fire through his body.

"Let go!" she yelled at him, "Tasukeru(Save) yourself!"

Stubbornly he hung on, knowing that she would plunge to her death if he did. Then he saw the grim resolution in her eyes.

She brunched her left hand and knuckled his wrist hard.

Like the last time, smearing pain caused him to involuntary loosen his hold. Desperately, he tried to hang on to her but she intently pried her arm out. Then……

He gripped only air.

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