log; complete

[roy-de-epee.livejournal.com]

when; 5 July, evening.
rating; R (violence, cursing).
Characters; Kakyouin Tsubaki (ladycamellia), Muraki Kazutaka (roy_de_epee)
Summary; Angels of death do not come with guarantees of life. Tsubaki proved it.
Log;

It was such a joy when she could finally see, and finally look at herself, no, Tsubaki's body in the mirror. She had even done a little spin to enjoy the full view. Just touching wasn't enough... There was nothing better than touching this body while watching. She hoped Tsubaki had been watching while she did it.

Finally free to do as she pleased, Irene was quick to locate a shop in which she could purchase herself a gun and a knife. It was easy to find a cheap semi-automatic...merely a few pretty undergarments to trade with, and the weapons were hers. She had even convinced the shopkeeper to give her a short lesson in how to aim and fire. Not a training course, certainly, but enough to not blow her own foot off.

And of course she knew where Muraki lived. Darling Tsubaki shared all her memories, of course... She was such a sweetheart. Their love was certainly a special kind.

If Muraki wasn't home, it would be easy enough to wait until he returned. She would wait for days if need be.

It wasn't a surprise when she tried the knob and it didn't turn. Narrowing her eyes, Irene pulled the gun out of the holster attached to her thigh and aimed at the lock. The recoil from the loud fire forced her back a step, and she needed to fire a second time to fully break the lock, but once that was accomplished all she had to do was push the door open with a smirk.

"Muraki. Your angel of death is here. Do you have tea prepared?"


None of the lights had been on in the entire flat. No, he had known better – it hadn’t taken very long to calculate the healing time of the wounds Tsubaki had received, and the calculations had proven quite accurate and useful. As had the light switch.

He had left the window open, and silently he cursed himself for such a thing. The breeze tossed about curtains, and the moonlight that filtered in undulated rather like a lake. Like ice water. Muraki had almost been about to dive into a rapture at the fluidity and light, but once he heard gunshots at the door, the rapture had broken like a dropped mirror. A pity – the shards weren’t even on the ground when he heard a rather familiar voice.

From beyond a hallway corridor, he peered into the den and saw the shadows, the figure in the doorway… and a smirk formed on his face. Oh, he had known she would come. The finger that rested on the trigger of the small pistol he held tensed. Muraki had prepared himself for such an instance of combat.

“Irene…,” he called patronisingly. “Had you but called, I would have prepared a special blend for you.” And then, with little warning, he aimed his gun at the light fixture in the room and fired. The shatter of glass resulting from the impact was a welcoming sign – no, he wouldn’t have the fun taken from him just yet.


When she saw the gun in his hands, Irene immediately lifted up hers to cock it in the hopes of firing before he could get her, but she yelled and flinched when he shot the light instead. Immediately, both arms crossed over her face to protect it, and she winced as she felt a few small cuts slice into her arm.

Staggering, Irene dropped her arms to quickly peer around almost in a panic. It was hard to see now, and Muraki was no longer in her line of vision. With a grit of her teeth, she ran her hands along her arms to try to expel any tiny pieces of glass. It just wouldn't do if her darling Tsubaki got an infection because of her carelessness.

With a growl, Irene's voice pierced the silence again as she stepped forth, the tone noticeably deeper and sharper than Tsubaki's sweeter voice. "It wasn't enough to just take her eyes, but now you want to see if you can scar her?!"

Spotting something just around the corner, Irene quickly darted forth to turn and fire, though somewhat blindly in that direction. She had her eyesight back, but now she had to deal with the damn dark. It was a good thing the moonlight was coming in through the window.


The gunfire barely missed him, and such a relief. The wall opposite him got the better of the brunt, and that was signal enough for Muraki to slowly back up away from the corner. Yes, further into the darkness – Irene would not be able to truly see him then. His smirk grew wider as he readied the gun for another shot. She was far more inexperienced with a gun than he was – one well-placed shot, and perhaps she would be done for.

“Oh, but you understand she’s already scarred, Irene?” he called mockingly to her. “I believe a good deal of it resulted from your own actions.” A small chuckle, then another bang of the gun. He had aimed for her foot – yes, he could hear her approaching, could see that form silhouetted by moonlight and the artificial lighting in the hallways outside the room. Incapacitate, disarm, then shoot to kill. At least, that was the procedure if the other was armed, as well.


That was enough to shock Irene into stillness, only for the next gunshot to actually make her scream and drop her weapon in surprise. Dropping down to the floor, Irene's injured foot rested to the side so that she could grip at it and chuckled. Ah, it hurt so much... She could hardly stand it. "Bastard..."

Then, as she pulled her bloodied hand away from her injured foot, Irene tipped her head back, the chuckling bubbling out in an outburst of unstable laughter. It was as if this was the funniest situation ever.

Irene had him worried. She knew she did. She had to, or he wouldn't have even bothered to take such measures to defend himself. His own gun? It was hilarious!

"You bastard!" she yelled again when the laughter subsided, and from her seated position on the floor, she jerked up the gun to aim, ready to fire again. "You'll regret that!"


Muraki listened on while the laughter rippled the air like wind on standing water. Like the moonlight that shone on Tsubaki’s form, reflecting in the brown of the eyes, then shadows in its place… like ice water. He stepped forward, allowing the silver of the handgun to reflect the small ray of moonlight that bounced over toward him before another shot was fired, aiming for the other foot. He would not take any chances with this situation.

“Or shall you regret what you made me do to your poor Camille?” he replied in a slick voice. Then he stepped forward, one foot moving into the silvery-blue ripple before the other met it with a crunch of glass. “This was, after all, your fault, Irene.” He grinned while the cobalt of his eye shined from reflections on the gun – the gun that now was aimed right at her forehead.


She tried to move out of the way, but far too late, as the bullet pierced her sandaled shoe and brought another yell from her. She didn't drop her gun, though, and instead kept it aimed. Still, her own pistol shook when she saw that his gun was pointed right at her head.

Swallowing, Irene only smirked at him, trying not to tremble from the pain. Walking after this...well...it would be a trial. But she would be the one to walk away from this and not him!

Her free hand that had been resting on her lap snuck just a bit up her skirt, pulling the knife from the sheathe that had been attached to her other thigh. With a snarl, she sliced at his hand to get that barrel away from her face. "You're the evil one, not me! You betrayed us both!"


Muraki attempted to move his hand before the blade could cut him, but he had been too late. Fresh blood dripped from the wound – a laceration about an inch long on the fleshy part of his palm – and the gun fell from his grip. Just in time, though, the other hand caught the gun and then pistol-whipped at the hand Irene used to hold her own gun.

“Betrayal, hmn?” he hissed as the gun made a loud thud on the ground about a half-metre away. His face remained serious for a moment before a wicked grin came to the fore. “And shall we ask Camille herself on the matter?” He suddenly placed his hand on the girl’s forehead and closed his eyes in concentration. Yes, Tsubaki. Come out to play… His voice faded into a single low note in his throat as the blood from his hand began to course down Tsubaki’s forehead. And soon, he could feel the burst of energy, similar to one he had used before… Time for a little personality switch.


Irene jerked her injured hand close to her chest to cradle it, wincing and looking up to yell at him, only to freeze when she felt his hand touch her forehead. She immediately began to strain to reach for her gun, only for her hand to fall limp and eyes glaze over at the power that suddenly coursed through her. It was like electricity, and her body jerked in response.

Thick eyelashes fluttered, and Tsubaki sighed and shut her eyes, as if in a sleepy lull. She was waking up from a nightmare, after all. She had a terrible dream, and Muraki had... Sensei had...

Wait.

With a hoarse gasp, the pain from her feet finally clicked, and the teenage girl cried out from the pain, and she jerked away from his hand to stare up at the silver-haired doctor with wide and confused eyes. "S-Sensei...?! What's..."

Her hand found the gun as she tried to scoot away, and she looked utterly horrified as she turned to spot it. No...! What was going on?!


The instant he heard the voice, sweeter, lighter, he knew it had worked. Irene had left; with a gentle smile, he opened his eyes and looked at Tsubaki while she pulled back. Of course, he knew now that, more often than not, she would not shoot him. And yet still, he maintained that guard just in case.

Two bullets left in the magazine. Damn.

"There you are, Camille," he replied smoothly. "It seems that your darling Irene came back to say hello."


The situation hit home then, and she froze again, staring wide eyed up at Muraki as he held the gun right at her. ...Irene. Irene had appeared again! And now she was gone. For once, for once, Tsubaki wished that Irene was here in her place to face this.

She was going to be killed again, and what could she do to stop him? He was taller and stronger and powerful. After all, he had manipulated her for such a large chunk of her life...brought about another side to her in her mental trauma...used that side to kill. He had even hurt Hisoka, who was a strong shinigami! And Tsuzuki...

...Hurt them. He had hurt them. The ones she cared dearly for...and all Tsubaki had ever been able to do was cry over how miserable she was because of it...because of how he had used her love against everyone and then stepped on her heart.

Suddenly, those wide and scared brown eyes narrowed, and Tsubaki's hands shot out before she could even think properly. She was acting on instinct now...instinct that Yumichika had helped her with. He had been training her for so long now, and disarming a weapon was basic training.

Before she even properly registered what she was doing, the frail and weak girl had relieved the good doctor of his gun, and in a moment's notice she aimed and fired with an angry scream.


The shot had, strangely enough, not registered when first it entered. He had felt something.... as though there were a small, blunt object pushing into the side of his chest... then the pain rushed in. And oh, god did it sting. He hissed as he took a few steps back, eventually halted by the wall as he knocked down a portrait. The sound of the shattering glass fell upon deaf ears - he could merely hear his heartbeat - was it slowing down already?

"Ca-.... Camille..." He could barely force out that husky breath as he slid down the wall to the floor. The bullet wound now was visible in the waves of the moonlight - carmine, staining the white of his shirt, just below the heart.


Tears stung at her eyes, but they were angry now instead of scared. Her entire body was trembling from the pain and rage as she struggled to stand, stumbling at first and needing to rest one hand against the wall for support as she got closer to his fallen form.

"Don't c-call me that! I'm not your Camille...and you're no longer my Sensei! Muraki Kazutaka... You're nothing but an evil man who poisons everything he touches! You poisoned me, and made me think I loved you!"

Gritting her teeth, she let go from the wall to hold the gun steady with both hands to aim for his heart, the tears streaming down as her voice shook. "Even if you come back, I don't care! I'll be satisfied knowing you're trapped here, never able to terrorize Hisoka again! This is for him! For my father! For Irene!"

Stiffening, Tsubaki pulled the trigger, screaming so she could be heard over the unmistakable gunshot. "For me!"


His hearing - had it been affected by the gunshot? He could hear ringing in them, and only when he willed it to be silent did he vaguely hear what Tsubaki said. "...poisons everything he touches!" Perhaps so. Muraki wasn't going to give it a second thought - no, the stinging in his chest wouldn't permit any other thought besides any in the vein of expletives.

And once he heard the loud scream, another loud bang, his chest seemed on fire. This time, right in the heart. Moonlight showed the blood spatter on his face, his clothing.... and then it showed the emptiness in those eyes. Behind the cobalt blue tinged with platinum, only darkness remained.


The recoil from the gun sent her reeling due to her poor footing, and Tsubaki fell back against the wall opposite of him, the gun falling uselessly at her side. That had been the last bullet, anyway.

At first all she could do was stare at him wide eyed. Was he, really...? Finally...? Had she finally accomplished what Hisoka had always wanted to do? How could it have been so easy?

As he lay there, he still looked like an angel to her, even drenched in blood. Angel of death.

One shaking hand reached up to touch her face, and she looked down to see that some of his blood was on her, splattered from the gunshot. Quite suddenly, the gravity of the situation hit her, and she had to clap both hands over her mouth to keep from vomiting as she dropped down to her knees.

Hunching over, Tsubaki choked on her own breaths as she burst into tears, the quiet weeping now outright sobbing.

Muraki was finally dead...and Tsubaki had been the one to pull the trigger instead of Irene.