XXIII - A Mid-December Night's Dream

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{ Jhiro Fukiyama }




Katsune retaliates in exactly the manner and tone of voice I'd expect. I've grown accustomed to viewing her in a more passive light—or perhaps she seemed especially calm in her note—but the harshness she slams me with hits a little too deep.

"Fives? Where the hell have you been? And where'd you get this channel from?"

"That first question I can answer later. And the second question isn't very important. Granted, if I told you that I met up with some people outside your cell, I'm sure you could guess who it was."

"You slippery son of a bitch. Took you long enough."

"Klaus and Yumei and I are on our way to the First Hangar. Hope you're ready."

"What? So soon?"

"By the way, the guards are shooting to kill, so watch out."

"You're joking! Already? I would've hoped we could launch the rebellion tomorrow."

"It's going right now, apparently! Trust me, I didn't do anything."

"Okay, listen here Ramiel, let me talk to Yumei! Put her on the damn phone!"

I pass the tiny device back to the girl, and she launches into a fervent explanation, arguing with Katsune about deadlines and altercations, and most importantly, the value of 'winging it.'

Klaus whirls around, and taps in a quick succession of digits on the keypad that closes the lift doors. He doesn't bother to break the panel, not like you'd expect in the movies.

"Can you shoot?"

He carries a handgun under his belt in a simple casing, and nods in my general direction.

"I've never shot a gun before."

"There isn't too much to it. Hold it steady. Aim, fire, reload. Rinse and repeat, until the other guy is dead," he says. "Rifles have more of a kick, but the concept is the same. Just don't let go of the gun, and make sure you have plugs in if you don't want to shatter your eardrums."

"I don't want to kill anybody."

"It's kill or be killed, Fukiyama."

Yumei's expression twists into anger, and she tags out of her heated debate with Katsune to slap Klaus on the back. "Hey! Don't go turning the guy into a murderer!"

"I'm just being realistic," he protests.

"That's no excuse to convert him into a killer!"

"Fine," he says. "Take this, at least. Use it in self-defense. Aim for the legs, and you'll knock out anybody who wants to chase after us. It won't kill them, I promise."

"Okay," I take the gun, though reluctant at first. "Is the safety on?"

"The piece there will turn it off. Just flick it." He demonstrates with his thumb, mimicking the motion in empty air.

"Where did you learn all of this?"

Of course, what a redundant question to ask, but my lack of filter speaks for itself.

"I...growing up, my corner of the world wasn't very safe. I had to learn fast." His reflexes move lightning-fast at the sound of footsteps, and he scrambles into position, weapon already aimed for the doorway. "Hey. Yumei. They're coming up. If someone's waiting outside, I'm going to shoot."

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