The Calm

Disclaimer: Nope, don\'t own it.

The Calm
Chapter 8: Bittersweet Life

She watched with a morbid curiosity as she pulled the black thread through her skin. She had done this before, stitching her own wounds. Every time was like the first, painful and morbid. She could hear Sith and Rodger arguing again. ‘He’s gonna lose a li-mb!’ she sang in her mind.

It was then that Vicious entered the bathroom. “This seems to be the only room that isn’t so loud,” he grumbled.

“Uh huh,” she said as she pushed the needle through her arm again and pulled gently on the thread.

“That’s disgusting,” he stated.

“Uh huh,” she responded as she repeated the action in the opposite direction.

“Are you drunk?” he asked.

“Uh huh, it hurts like a bitch if I’m sober.”

Vicious rolled his eyes and took her arm and the needle and thread into his hand and finished stitching for her in neat lines. Amaya stared in wonder as she swayed from blood loss, pain and high amounts of alcohol. “Wow,” she said.

“You feeling alright?” he asked.

Amaya nodded slowly. “Once you and the room, stop spinning, I’ll be just peachy keen!” she said, finishing with a hiccup.

Vicious snorted a laugh. “Go get some sleep in your room. I’m going to go check to se Sit Sith’s killed Rodger yet,” he said as he left the bathroom.

Amaya smiled as she stumbled out the door and into bed. “He lost a li-mb!” she sang as she drifted off into a drunken sleep.

~*~*~*~

Rodger had been taken to the hospital. Sith had gotten mad enough and had removed Rodger’s right eye in a gruesome manner. What the argument had been about, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he had to get a new rug. Rodger’s blood stained it in several places. The little bastard had just been lucky he’d gotten there in time, before she had removed anything else, or killed him.

Amaya sat on the couch, book in hand as Aurora played in the living room. A certain white rug was missing, and Amaya had an idea why. Rodger apparently had been taken to the hospital, and again, she had an idea why. Amaya slowly turned the page of her book, and marked her spot before closing it. Aurora looked up and grinned at the dark haired assassin.

“Is it a good book?” she asked.

Amaya nodded. “Yep, but not for kids.”

Aurora nodded. “The metal closet in Mommy and Daddy’s room isn’t for kids either, they keep it locked with a special key.”

Amaya grinned; Aurora had been told early on that the gun cabinet was off limits to her, the door locked just in case she became curious anyways. Amaya wished her parents had done that. She still had the scar on her leg from when she found one of her father’s handguns and had shot herself in the leg.

“What are you playing?” Amaya asked.

Aurora picked up a male doll. “This is Mr. Jet, and this,” she said holding up a girl doll, “ Is me!”

Amaya smiled. ‘So, she has a crush on Jet, eh?’

“She did not just say that,” Vicious’ voice spoke as he took a seat next to Amaya.

“I’m gonna marry Mr. Jet, Papa!” Aurora chirped.

Vicious snorted a laugh. “Are you now?”

Amaya placed a hand on his shoulder. “He bought ice cream, the other day.”

“And Mr. Jet has nice eyes! Just like Amaya said!” Aurora said as she went back to her toys.

Amaya’s eyes widened a bit as her face tinged red.

Vicious was surprised. “You’re blushing? I never, ever, seen you blush… ever. You must really love this guy.”

Amaya playfully smacked Vicious in the arm. “Shut up,” she mumbled.

Vicious laughed. “You are!”

Amaya stood, taking her book with her. “I’m going out,” she said as she tossed the book into her room, grabbed her coat and headed out the door; Vicious’ laughter ringing after her as she walked down the hall and into the street.

~*~*~*~

She sat within the smoky confines of the bar, a black cigarette in her hand. These no longer smelled of vanilla, although cloves were still in there. The smell of vanilla seemed to… pure for her now, now it was something darker, something thick and rich.

“You smell like cloves, coffee, and chocolate,” a male voice stated from behind her.

Amaya turned and smirked to her companion. “Vanilla’s too pure.”

Her companion smiled, his blue eyes shining slightly as he took a seat next to her. The scar over his right eye crinkled slightly, the little piece of metal underneath causing more wrinkles to appear than there should be. He waved to the bartender. “A cowboy,” he ordered, the bartender nodded before starting to work. He turned to her and raised an eyebrow. “You think vanilla’s too pure.”

Amaya shrugged. “It is. Anyways, the coffee gives it a slightly bittersweet flavor.”

“How’s Aurora?” he asked as the bartender handed him his drink.

Amaya grinned. “She’s fallen for you.”

Jet chuckled. “I suppose that could be natural.”

Amaya sighed and stood, pushing her body away from her companion. “I have work to do, later Jet,” she bid as she left the smoky, dimly lit room.

Jet sighed and finished off his drink, leaving money for the bartender. “Let’s see what you can do, Wolf.”

~*~*~*~

It was a simple mission; her target was too overconfident in himself to worry over the Wolf of the Night Rain coming to get him. The sky thundered and wept over the world. Torrents of the tears of gods fell upon the darkened ground as she melted from shadow to shadow.

Her target was a young kid, hence the arrogance. He was hanging out with friends, drunk and swaying with them as they traveled down they darkened street, turning down and even darker alley. Amaya snorted. ‘Do they ever get smart?’

One of the boys stiffened and turned towards her as she blocked the only exit to the dead end alley. “What the fuck?” he whispered.

The target turned to her, his eyes growing wide as he recognized her. “Fuck! It’s the fucking Wolf!” he gasped.

Amaya grinned. ‘At least he’s not that stupid.’ “I come for your life, tonight. You should never have challenged Vicious’ rule,” she scolded in a cold voice.

“B-but all he did to get his position was kill both the Van and Rain Deacon! He knows nothing of politics! Hell, I know more!” he snapped.

Amaya tightened her hold on her katana. “He didn’t kill her,” she said as she leapt out and sliced her blade into one of the other boys’ bodies, killing him. Her target whimpered and she could smell that he had pissed himself. ‘God, that’s pathetic,’ she commented mentally. “I killed Rain Deacon,” she growled as she attacked one of the others as they reached for a gun.

The target watched with eyes filled with fear as the rest of his companions fell before him. “How-“

Amaya grinned predatorily. “Because, boy, I was her,” she said as she lopped off his head with one blow.

The air was void of sound, save the pounding rain. Amaya stiffened and turned towards the entrance to the alley. She wasn’t alone. “Come out, before I kill you.”

Jet walked into the pale light, his blue eyes filled with untold emotion. “I never saw you kill before,” he said softly.

Amaya took a step back. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I needed to see you, see the other you. The killer, the hunter, the-“

“The Wolf?” she finished.

“Yeah, I needed to know. I know you when you’re off duty, but you never let anyone on the Bebop watch you fight or kill. Spike was the only one, and that was when you were Eve.”

Amaya sighed. “I didn’t think that you’d like me after.”

Jet’s eyebrows furrowed. “Amaya, I love you, I just… I wish you wouldn’t hide.”

Amaya turned her head away. “We should leave,” she said softly.

“Okay, but we need to talk,” he said.

Amaya nodded. “Saturday evening, meet me at the bar. We can talk then. But not tonight. There’s too much blood tonight.”

Jet nodded as she passed him. “I can see why you like bittersweet now.”

Amaya smiled softly, her eyes still empty to the world. “It keeps me alive.”

~*~*~*~

The streets were dark, she had yet to return home, although the other members of the ‘family’ that she had become a part of thought otherwise. She had always been good at deception. It was then that she heard it, a faint sound, almost like the sound of ripping butterfly wings, faint and delicate. She turned down the alley, her curiosity getting the better of her. Her eyes widened, a shock of red hair, a crumbled darkly clothed figure, the sight of tears. Amaya took a step forward, knowing that she had yet to be noticed. This was not the first time she had seen Sith’s tears. Each persona that she had, save Marissa, had seen this.

“Sith?” she called softly, letting the shadow know of her presence.

Sith stiffened, her wet black eyes lifting to lock with her own grey orbs. “I thought-“

“I always had a knack for letting you think I was in one place, when I was actually in another.”

Sith snorted, followed by a faint sniffle. “What do you want?”

Amaya raised and eyebrow and laughed. “You’re joking, right? You’re sitting in a darkened alley, in your pajamas, crying and you’re asking me what I want?”

“It won’t stop,” Sith murmered.

“What won’t stop? Sith, is Kate bothering you?”

“No… not Kate… they all are… they keep… I remember everything now,” Sith choked out.

Amaya winced slightly. “I feared this day would come.”

Sith’s eyes changed slightly as she stood. “What do you mean?”

Amaya stood her her crouched position and lifted her hands. “What do you think I mean?”

Sith grasped the other assassin by her shirt and slammed her into the brick wall. “You knew.”

Amaya nodded. “Do you think the Van would have ever assigned you to me if I didn’t?”

“This whole time… You lied to me!” Sith snarled.

Amaya shook her head. “No, I didn’t, I withheld information, that’s two different things.”

Sith pulled her forwards sharply before slamming her back into the wall. “You deceived me!”

Amaya rolled her eyes and moved with her unnatural speed, maneuvering her old partner onto the pavement quickly and nearly gently. Amaya now sat upon Sith’s legs, her hands holding SIht’s hands against her chest. “I’ve deceived everyone I ever met! Did you think that you were so special? Come on, Sith, did you honestly think that I wouldn’t eventually deceive you?”

Sith ceased struggling against the other woman’s arms. She couldn’t say anything, only stare at Amaya with unreadable eyes. Amaya couldn’t decode what she was thinking, couldn’t try to fathom what went on in the shadowy assassin’s mind.

“Sith, you had to find out the truth on your own. It’s time you grew up,” Amaya growled.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Amaya laughed coldly, causing a shiver up the Shadow’s spine. She herself had never witnessed Amaya’s true nature, no one had, save her victims. But now, She was witnessing it first hand. “Life is not logic, not clear cut. You can’t cut yourself off from the world, from your past, from yourself. I should know, I tried. Life is pain, life is blood, life stinks like death and stale cigarette smoke, but we all endure it until we too die. Now wake the fuck up and take fucking responsibility!”

“Don’t talk to me about responsibility or pain!” Sith spat.

Amaya clenched her free hand and slugged the red haired assassin. “Don’t get arrogant with me!”

Sith cackled. “Arrogant! I am not the arrogant one! And speaking of responsibility, why haven’t you told Aurora who you really are?”

Amaya leapt to her feet. “Because I can’t stay!”

Sith froze. “But… you said-“

Amaya’s cold laugh floated through the air, causing another ripple of fear to trembled down her spine. She couldn’t quite describe Amaya’s laugh, it was horrifying and inhuman… like a creature or demon of myth, like a-

“Sith, what made you think that I’d be a good mother to Aurora? The fact that I bore her? You should know better than I that not all women are meant to raise children. Do you want Aurora growing up with a mother that may be lying to her at all times? A mother that’s more demon than you or Vicious could ever be?” Amaya asked.

Sith said nothing.

Amaya sighed. “I thought not. Sith, you have to be there for Aurora and for your son.”

Sith’s breath caught. “Son,” she murmured.

Amaya turned to Sith and tossed her an envelope. “You should have someone guard your files closer. It was way too easy for Rodger to pull them up on you.”

Sith scowled as she caught the envelope. “I knew there was a reason I hated that man.”

Amaya chuckled as she pulled out a black cigarette and lit it, the scent of cloves, coffee and chocolate wafting through the air. “You see, Sith. All I am now is a bittersweet memory of a woman that died three years ago. The memory of a disenchanted child, covered in blood, sacrificed to become a dragon of blood, before escaping those that had sacrificed her innocence to become a storm dragon and bear a child into the world; a child that would shine light onto the bleakness that was once her existence before she sacrificed herself to protect the lives of two men that meant a lot to her. But now I’m just a wolf, a wolf and a wraith.”

“A bittersweet memory,” Sith repeated.

Amaya nodded as she exhaled a plume of smoke. She then tossed the cigarette to the concrete and extinguished it before extending a hand to her crimson hared companion. “Let’s go inside, Shadow, this wolf needs her beauty rest. And you need to get out of the cold, don’t want your little friend within getting a cold now do we?” Amaya joked.

Sith snorted. “Yeah, sure,” Sith said as she grasped her old friend’s scarred hand and followed her inside the apartment building.

~*~*~*~

Levii: Originally, I was gonna make this two chapters... but then, I decided that they encompassed the same theme, that Amaya\'s life isn\'t what it used to be... it\'s a bittersweet memory. I love metaphors, don\'t you?

Ja ne and Review!