This page lists English translations for the online novella (or online novels) found on the Japanese official website for KOF: Maximum Impact 2.
These stories were written by Akihiko Ureshino.
Alba & Soriee: Sons of Fate[]
http://game.snkplaymore.co.jp/official/kof-mi2/novel1/index.html
His eyes reflected stars and were littered by the star filled sky. He could hear a howl from a stray dog and the painful sobs of his younger brother.
Don't cry, Soiree.
He tried to speak these words, but Alba's lips could only tremble faintly. Alba could only sense his body's wretched state, dulling as it bled and his heat sucked into the earth, gradually became colder. He was beginning to feel beyond pain. Gently, surely, Alba felt himself sink into the abyss of death.
"B-bro-brother..."
As he had an intense coughing fit, Soiree moaned.
"Brother..."
He heard the sound of something being dragged, yet all he saw was the faraway starry night and the square cut of the building's silhouette. Alba soon saw the face of his younger brother enter his world. Soiree's face was nothing but scratches. The slightly handsome boy had just lost his charm.
Not just his face, his entire body was scarred too. Beaten by the senior punks and kicked away, perhaps it was fortunate that they could share the same fate. At the last moment, Alba protected Soiree and they ended up like this. Since they were beaten up so badly, Alba had wanted to share a laugh with Soiree but he just couldn't find his voice.
"W-Wake up, Brother..."
Soiree crept closer to him and was able to grasp his hand. Alba felt the warmth from his brother's grasp but couldn't return it with his usual strength.
Don't cry, Soiree. It's not like you're going to die.
Alba thought this deep within his mind. He became aware that he actually lowered himself to feel satisfied by these words and was nauseated. An older brother who risks his own life to protect his one and only brother. Perhaps it would have been a fine story in this rotten town, but there were one or two other stories just like it. Besides, it would only satisfy for a split second. It was something people would hear just to get by, turning their eyes away from reality.
Exhausted from roaming everyday, not knowing how faraway they were from their hometown or how many more days they could go, understanding only what he could learn, Alba perhaps thought in the corner of his mind of throwing it all away and taking the easy way out. Even though he had little left to give up, he might have hoped for a sense of liberation.
He could throw it all away, except he knew his lifeline was always his younger twin brother. The thought of leaving Soiree to make everything easier for himself sickened Alba.
"I'm... sorry."
He was able to speak these words but barely.
"Brother?!"
Soiree was right beside him, but Alba thought his brother's voice was awfully distant. His consciousness was fading. As he gazed into the vast starry night, he felt his grasp on the real world slipping. He might be dying. He felt as though being awake was weighing him, until a strong power at that time forced him jolt back into reality.
Someone... -two maybe more- he heard running footsteps coming towards him. The stray dog let out a sorrowful wail before running away. Soiree was seized by apprehension and held his hand tighter. His grasp made Alba understand what happened. Those guys came back.
Are they back to beat us again?
Using whatever strength was left in him, Alba revived himself one last time and moved his injured body to attention.
"Hey! Are you boys okay?!"
It was an adult's voice he heard. Not the guys from earlier he felt, but Alba couldn't think himself to believe that anymore as his wounds got the better of him. As his eyes faded out his surroundings, Alba's last thought was how the starry night sky vaguely reminded him of his hometown.
Schwarzwald was the place on earth which didn't have its starry skies completely polluted by the city. Climbing up to a high fence, Soiree looked up at the twinkling lights above and raised his voice in admiration.
"... Look, Brother."
As Soiree spoke, his breath puffed up clouds of white into the night. Even so, Soiree's cheeks were flushed with excitement.
"It's amazing."
"Yeah."
They were used to always looking up at the stars, but they were quite the spectacle. Perhaps it was because tonight was particularly special. Alba strode with both feet so he could rest his waist on the top of fence, while Soiree kept looking up at the sky without getting tired of the sight. If they jumped down from the fence, they could return to their old life.
To a life bound by rules. Though it was inconvenient, it guaranteed everyday timed meals and a bed to peacefully rest in. If they wanted to, they can live their lives like that until they weren't children. However, if they took the leap to the outside, they could lose everything they had left for them in an instant. No one would be there to protect them, warm food, and tranquil slumber wouldn't be assured. In exchange, all they could have was a sense of freedom, even if it had no definite shape or outcome.
"...You don't have any regrets?"
"Huh?"
"We're never going to come back here. Are you sure you're fine with it?"
"Yeah, well, I always told you that it feels suffocating living here."
They've talked about this with themselves countless times. Soiree gave him a suspicious look, as if it were pointless to mention such matters now.
"I'm fine with it. I just want to go where Brother goes, that's all."
"Do you lack independence?"
"I believe more in Brother than I ever would in myself. ...Besides, it'd be easier if I just left everything to you."
Expressing his true thoughts with a silly laugh, Soiree skillfully leaped on top of the fence and reached his right hand out to the starry sky.
"There's nothing to really talk about now, right? Anyways, let's hurry and go, Brother!"
"Yeah. I'd rather die than face the humiliation of an adult catching us."
They put their luggage over their shoulder and loaded it onto the lone bike waiting for them below. They only had a small amount of food taken from the refrigerator in the orphanage and a fistful of cash saved up. Any lingering dribbles was left to dry back at the bottom of the fence.
"Hey, let's jump off together since we're doing this!"
Soiree took Alba's hand as he said this. He usually would refuse such a childish proposal, but Alba was also just as excited as his brother and was incredibly happy with the idea. It also felt like a solemn and sacred ritual, kind of like an initiation.
"...Okay then."
"Yeah, let's do this. Okay! Ein, zwei..."
Getting his older brother's approval, Soiree raised his voice as he finished the countdown.
"Drei!!"
Only the starry night bore witness to the great leap over the fence and the boys' new life of freedom.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself on a rundown bed with springs that felt like they were dying.
"......"
While still lying down, Alba gazed up the at the dirty ceiling as he regained his sense of feeling. At least it didn't seem like he was in heaven or hell. Instead of moving his body freely, his eyes moved to the wall, decorated with darts boards and posters of glamorous playmates, and the coarse furniture barely within his sight.
However, these weren't the things his eyes were searching for. As he was glancing around, he suddenly felt a weight against his knee and saw that Soiree was sound asleep, leaning over the bed and asleep by his leg. Noticing the chair next to the bed, Alba surmised that his brother was sleeping in it while staying by his side. His brother was miserably covered with bandages over the bruises here and there, but Soiree looked otherwise fine. Alba let out a sigh of relief.
But then he gradually realized that they were still in a turbulent situation. He knew nothing of the room they were confined in and a new problem had arisen. Seeing the state they were currently in, it seemed that someone had saw them in the quiet alley and came to their rescue. But if it was the police who found them, he was sure that they would have been accommodated at beautiful hospital, no matter how run down the town. If they were sent to such a place, they would discover that they were illegal immigrants. Even though he didn't know all the details, Alba was sure that it was considered bad for them to be there and they would have been deported.
No matter how much he looked at it, this room in every aspect was just a cheap apartment.
As he wondered about the true colors of the apartment owner, he heard footsteps of two or more people coming towards the room. The noise reached Soiree and he stirred as his eyes opened.
"...Nnah?"
Soiree overcame his sleepiness when he realized that Alba was up. His face brightened with a wide smile until he too heard the footsteps coming closer. His expression stiffened as the younger boy turned to look at the door.
"Ah, they're both awake."
The boy, who opened the door entered the room first, making his way towards the bed. He judged the two boys with a Popeye like expression.
"They're pretty tough for being so thin."
"That's enough, Noel."
The boy, who looked to be the same age as Alba and Soiree, stepped aside as tall adult men entered.
"They're tough, alright. Only I wouldn't say that for people who got beat to a pulp, got a fever, and slept for several days."
His mirthful chuckle made him seem like he was an appealing character. He seemed to be a good person at a glance who had calm eyes. Though he looked to be in his thirties, his features held a mysterious charm to them. It was only his rough looking clothes and giant body with sturdy muscles that were easy to understand. He held a paper bag, which drifted a savory smell around the room. Soiree instinctively uttered a sound of interest from his throat, making Alba notice it as well.
"If you're awake, then get lost."
These harsh words were spoken by a man who stood by the "good intentions" person, shooting the boys a cold-hearted expression. The man lightly waved his long black hair away from his chiseled profile, revealing a face that women would find attractive and lovely. His shirt and accessories seemed to be a sad joke within the room, making the surroundings seem brutish by comparison.
"Should people in The Organization get any trouble from these brats, what am I going to do when something bad actually happens?"
With eyes that suggested they were diseased vermin, the "dandy" took a short glance at Alba and Soiree.
"It may not have meaning for you to save people, but think about your own status a bit. It isn't like how it used to be when you were a no-name punk."
"I got it, Chance. Just this once."
Uttering an exasperated sigh, the "dandy" Chance left a joking wink as the "good intentions" man set the paper bag on top of the nearby table.
"You two, you're hungry right? If you want, do wanna grab a bite?"
The "good intentions" man handed them a hot dog with one hand, but it took the boys a few moments to understand his words. The invitation of having free food to casually eat was unfamiliar to them. The "good intentions" man was the first one to give them such an offer. Alba couldn't find himself to answer, even when Soiree wistfully reached out his hand and quickly restrained it.
Alba knew how things worked in this town. People who don't have an underlying motive for their actions are nearly extinct in this town. These people must have some reason for saving them. Or so Alba thought.
Acting as though he was found out, Chance leaned against the wall and puffed a cigarette. Though he said his words hatefully, it probably was a misinterpretation of his real thoughts.
"These brats just can't seem to appreciate your words. ...They'll take a lot to take care of."
"Really? You don't actually think that, do you?"
Doubtful of his colleague's worries, the "good intentions" man removed the contents of the paper bag on the table one object at a time. A hot dog, hamburger, a matured red apple, mineral water, a chocolate bar... Not caring about their nutritional value and wanting to take a bite right away as they were arranged, Soiree gulped and moaned in his throat. Even Alba felt his restraint weaken at the sight, but he dared not to reach out his hand. After displaying the food for them, the "good intentions" man seemed a bit exasperated as he said,
"You two can't be content to just look but never eat. Come on, eat up."
"Hey, could it be that they can't understand what we're saying?"
Noel, the boy who entered the room first, leaned against the door as he spoke.
"Can't understand...? You mean... are you two illegal immigrants?"
"--------"
Hearing the wild voice of the "good intentions" man made Alba bite and tighten his lips. Though he didn't want to voice his words and affirm it, at this rate, they could be taken to the police and put under investigation. The fact that they came to the country illegally had been put to light.
"Looks like you hit the bullseye."
Taking the apple from the table, Chance polished it on the cuff of his flashy shirt. He stared at Alba carefully and laughed.
"Well, at least the terribly messed up one seems to understand English. The other one has been acting unresponsive to our words, but I reckon he understands it too."
The man was sharp. Maybe not as much as the "good intentions" man, but the man named Chance seemingly had x-ray vision that betrayed his gambler image. Not knowing who these men were gripped Alba's throat and sealed his lips.
"At any rate, it's not poisoned."
He threw the spitting clean apple in front of Alba.
"Even if The Organization's lackeys have to lynch to get by, it's still a supposed to be a secret, yeah? You can see it in the town by looking, you can tell that they're the ones stealing and ripping people off in the stores. The kids who know the type of world we live in know that we're the Sanctions Rain and hear about what we do."
Knowing that he foresaw Alba's thoughts, Chance shrugged his shoulders and pointed to the "good intentions" man.
"My good man here keeps jabbering about it and can't shut up about it. We didn't save you to get any thanks or nothing, so just eat."
"Hey, Chance. You could have said it a little nicer. We've got injured here."
"You're just being too easy on them. They think you're shrewd. ...Especially that one."
"Is that right? They're still kids. No different than Noel here."
"Stop it, Fate! I ain't a kid anymore!"
"Your face gets red when you see the ladies at Emmanuel Street. You're still a brat."
"Chance! Don't take sides with him!"
"......"
As he gazed at the friendly argument in front of him, Alba handed Soiree the apple.
"Is... is it okay, Brother?"
"Yeah. Go ahead and eat."
Making sure the men wouldn't hear them, they spoke quietly to one another in German. As his brother ate, Alba kept staring at the men who didn't fit at all in Southtown, at the good man who hindered the annoyance around him.
Fate. It may not be his real name, but that was what his comrades called him.
As the poignant and sneering Chance had said, Fate was known to and fro as the gangster benefactor of the area. He had a strong sense of obligation and was an honest person who believed that there was no one who wasn't worth saving. This was something that Alba understood quickly.
It was true that this man, Fate, was a generous man who didn't suspect anyone. He had taken Alba and Soiree in without knowing who they were, letting them live in his apartment for their operations as their home, preparing food so that would never need to ask, and even gave them pocket money sometimes. This kindness wasn't kept to just the twins, but it was for others too. Fate also lavishly entertained yearning children who had no relatives, people who were handicapped, poor people, and the elderly who could not afford to work for themselves.
That's why he felt he could never leave this ragged apartment for a long, long time. When Alba expressed the irony to Chance, the older man nodded greatly with him.
"It's true, like you said. He's the bastard that every household in the slums accepts as their neighborhood nice guy. Even if he would have to sacrifice himself, he just wants to have one big happy "family". Especially the brats, he loves seeing their pleased faces."
Commonly said to be pure, down talked as an idiot. Fate was the type of man who didn't match at all with this town. Living in this town with that kind of thinking was just too naive.
On that day, Alba knew what type of place Southtown was and understood what was needed to live in these slums. Power. If not that, then at least cunning. If he didn't have either of these elements, he couldn't stand a chance in this town. And there was Fate, who didn't like to sacrifice himself for such a man. Alba just thought he was too weak. But at the same time, being weak mysteriously didn't become him.
Why was it too naive to think this way? Was it the idealists who didn't want to see reality or was it the level-headed attitude in the slums that called his gang the strongest?
The under elevated basket court was a playground for the nearby children. Boys with various color of the skin and ages shared cheerful laughter, running and chasing after the one ball they had. Soiree was in the group and, though he yelled something to them in English and blended with them, his appearance was mysterious and incompatible with the rest of them. Sitting on a casual pile of old tires, Alba watched the other boys from afar as he nursed the plastic cast on his right arm.
"What a shame. You can't play with them because of your arm's condition."
Turning to the jovial voice, he saw Fate and Chance walk down the stairs next to him.
"He's playing "mountain" already. But, time is more important right now. Until we can safely take off the cast, sit tight and take care of your health."
As if it were completely unrelated, Fate ignored mentioning the new cut on his face as he discarded his leather jacket and joined the rest of the boys in their game.
"...You should try mixing up with the other brats more often."
Chance murmured, trying to kill his gnawing boredom with a long yawn. Alba faced him and they stared straight into one another.
"...You guys went "out" again, didn't you?"
"Yeah. Our other "family" was slipping too much so we had to hang in there for some stupid reason again."
Chance lightly swung around his Grolsch and nodded.
Long ago, the only rule in Southtown was one by absolute power. A colossal underground empire built by an extraordinary American businessman, but Geese Howard had died several years ago. The fight for his successor hasn't reached its final conclusion. Both big and small organizations are confused by the chaos and the infinite, ghastly competition of washing one's blood in the another continues to this day. Therefore, it was easy to bribe the police for bail and the gangs were near impossible to control.
The mass media reports such incidents as an everyday occurrence, many residents in the town even fearing one another. The gang wars made the town unpopular, forcing the several residents to commute to the sister Second South, and the well meaning population mainly live there. But, the story of the town wasn't unheard of and was on a much bigger scale. The town's influence spread far beyond its boarders and continued to rot the country and the world. In fact, when Alba and Soiree first came to America, they have seen towns like it several times.
And that was why Alba grew up to have a distrusting mind not befitting boys of his age. The innocent Soiree didn't even have the slightest bit of ill will towards anyone. So, in his place -and to ensure that Soiree's brightness never faded- Alba thought he should always judge a person twice before accepting them and held suspicions of every other person aside from Soiree.
Rubbing his stubby chin, Chance continued sighing.
"The other night, I finally persuaded this really passionate and beautiful Latin girl to spend the night together with me. I was going after her and she put up with me for half a year. Half a year, half a year I tell ya. But then those idiots had to ruin everything by being all forceful and there was a fight with one of my partners. I have bad luck, I tell ya."
People only saw Chance as a man only concerned with beer, women, and gambling, but Alba thought of him a bit differently. It was due to this strong and reliable realist that the idealistic leader of "Sons of Fate" could even be called the greatest gang. Fate was the central force of positivity and charisma, which was what the poor people in the slums clamored to, but it was Chance who organized the group efficiently and brought them together. With Chance's cool-headed talent, they were able to become the eminent power they were now.
Fate probably couldn't have even handled the task when he first started the group, which was five maybe ten at most when it started. On the other hand, Chance's unpredictable calculations would have also made it impossible for people to keep following just him; sooner or later, he would have no one with him.
That's why "Sons of Fate" was Fate and Chance's group.
Habitually stroking his forelock of hair, Alba uttered.
"But you won the fight, I presume?"
"I don't mean to brag, but I never lose in a fight."
Seeing Chance smile at him, Alba looked away.
"...Still, Soiree's acting pretty good lately."
"Yeah."
"Maybe he's just decided to have fun?"
"......"
Alba turned to Chance once more.
"Don't you have any plans to stay?"
Chance's smiling expression faded and Alba felt his heart speculating. He could often not tell what he was thinking under that smile of his, which was why he considered Chance a trickier opponent than Fate.
"...That's none of your business."
"A tough front as always."
With a spontaneous shrug of shoulders, Chance gave a wry smile.
"...Could it be that you still think we'll swindle you two and sell both of you somewhere?"
"......"
"Aren't you thinking too much? If we were the type of guys who do that, Noel would have been gone a long time ago. Unlike you distrusting brats, he was a lot easier to raise."
Alba had heard that Noel was older than the twins and was fifteen now. He was a little outspoken and a bit cowardly, but that allowed the strong and kind Fate to act like an older brother to him. At least that's what he heard, although Alba had suspected that the last part could have been a little mistaken.
Directing his eyes down to the hand in his cast, Alba spoke.
"If I thought that, then maybe we could relax our guard."
"When you're too cautious while heading towards a delusion, it's just a delusion."
Chance had uttered while looking up at the unclear sky. But his words had an inarticulate delivery to them that had Alba slip a small chuckle.
"Let's say that we are the villains you think us to be. Why would we trap brats like you two and pretend to comfort you? If we wanted to, we could've just taken you two by force and contained you two on a ship, right? You've got a good head on your shoulders, so there's no way that you couldn't have thought about that at least."
Alba had no trump card to play and he couldn't give a "yes or no" answer. Chance had already read through him and won the argument.
"What did Chance say?"
Fate headed over to Alba and voiced his concern. Since it was impossible for him to keep up with the tough teenagers, Fate used the neck of his jersey to wipe the sweat off his face. Chance had placed the Grolsch on top of the steel drum so Fate drank the remainder of the bottle to wet his parched throat. He gave out a big sigh after he gulped it down.
Observing the figure in front of him, Alba still couldn't see Fate as the leader of the strongest gang. The boy couldn't even fathom Fate with any bone of malice in his body. Wiping the froth of the beer with the back of his hand, Fate said,
"He doesn't mean to pick on you. He's just got a nasty mouth. He's really honest, even if he is blunt to everyone he meets. Well, it's because he's like that everyone misunderstands him. But still..."
"I know."
Without looking at Fate, Alba answered curtly.
"I want to understand people like Chance. I don't mistake his intentions. ...Doesn't mean I like him though."
"Oh. Well... uh, that's fine."
For a moment, Fate had a confused expression but he reverted to his beaming common smile. There was a certain warmth to his smile that made the person who saw it feel relieved without reason, like the ray of sunshine in spring. Yet Alba couldn't stand that popular smile right now.
"Chance really buys into you. He's settling down at a weird age and starting to lose his temper more."
"That probably means that he's dealing with an uncute brat."
Biting his thumbnail, Alba clicked his tongue a little.
"Ah~ it would be nice if you could be more honest like Soiree, but you are you. You've got this nice looking face but then you're mulling over things too much."
"Shut up. Don't care about me. Just hurry up and leave."
In a tiny voice, Alba said this in German so Fate wouldn't understand him.
"Anyways, lighten up on the thinking and relax."
Venturing closer to Alba, Fate put a pondering hand on Alba's head. Alba didn't feel the need to brush it aside or move away from it, and thought he had the room to do neither.
"You are free here and you are also free to leave. But as long as you are here, I'll look after your burdens for you. It's because everyone who lives in these slums is my "family"".
"--------"
Tapping his head gently, Fate returned to the game with Soiree and the others.
Leaving the business matters to Chance just so he could have time to play with games with the other kids in the slums. Alba threw away the image he had of Fate as a fairly comfortable leader.
"Look after my burdens... he said?"
Jumping down from the tire and slightly tidying his messy hair, Alba took the empty Grolsch bottle and threw it behind him.
"He can just say that so easily---"
The bottle that crashed into the brick wall of an old apartment scattered around vividly colored emerald fragments.
Ever since they were brought to this apartment, Alba and Soiree have been staying in this room. It was actually Fate's room, but he parked himself into another vacant spot so the twins could use his room to their liking.
"Brother, can you take off your cast yet?"
Soiree piped from sofa as Alba sat on the bed.
"Don't call me Brother."
Alba responded while overly patting his cast on his right arm.
"I've said this before, didn't I? When you call me that, it makes both of us look like brats."
"Sorry, it's an old habit... so I just..."
Shrinking away from his brother's light scolding, Soiree looked as though he was being punished.
"...It's time."
Alba gazed at the wristwatch on top of the table.
"Huh? What are you saying, B... Bro."
"I'm taking it off. It should be fine now."
Peeling off the adhesive tape on his cheek, Alba stood and walked toward the window of the vacant lot. He raised his cast arm high in the air.
"Wha... What do you think you're doing, Brother?!"
"At the very least call me Bro."
Indifferent to his younger brother's distress, Alba smashed his right arm against the window frame. The gypsum splintered and a chunk of it shattered on the ground, bits of white smoke rising in the air.
"Are you sure it's okay for you to do that?!"
"No problem. If something happens, I predict that I can see that quack doctor somewhere around here."
With a huge crack now in the cast, Alba forcibly straightened his fingers out and peeled the constricting plaster off his right arm. He slowly tested the power of his right arm through his fingertips. Though his arm and fingers were slightly thinner than before, he felt no obstacles with moving. Hardly any pain at all. Confirming his observations, Alba walked to their coats on the wall and threw one to Soiree.
"... Let's go, Soiree."
"Go? But where will we go?"
"Anywhere is fine."
He felt a note inside his jumper's inner pocket. It was pocket money given to him from Fate.
"We can go anywhere. At least, I want to go any place but here."
"Wha... Hey, wait!"
Soiree stood from his spot, his voice concerned.
"Why, Brother? Can it be---"
"Don't call me Brother."
"Argh, never mind that now! Brother, are you still having doubts about Fate and his group? Fate and them's done all of this for us! Well, even if they're all in a gang---"
"...You sure are thinking a lot for Fate, Soiree."
"Huh?"
"Nothing---"
Am I envious of Fate? Alba thought to himself. He was quietly shaken by his private criticism. The answer came quickly and it was clear. Admitting that he couldn't be completely invoked with that emotion, he reasoned that leaving now would erase any feelings of the sort that he held towards Fate.
"Yes, I know too."
That Fate and his gang were good men for the people.
"I understand that they aren't like other gangs. I've known that."
"Then why?! Why all of sudden want to leave---"
"Are you hating the idea of leaving here?"
"Hate is, well..."
His eyebrows dropping, Soiree's eyes lowered.
"...We've walked through lots of towns before, right?"
"Yeah."
"During that time, we've seen a lot of bad things and we've been to a lot of places where we couldn't settle down and relax. We've seen a lot of places like that even when we came to America. Here, here it's, something about here... It's different than the others."
"Different how?"
"I don't know either and I can't really say it very well... I guess it's the comfort it gives."
"This junkyard of a town?"
"Yeah. Sure, this town is one of the worst out there. But that isn't all. There's something else. It's like we can be with the people here, that it's okay if we lived here. That's how I feel."
It wasn't because of the town that he was thinking that. It's because that "benefactor" was here.
"I see."
Bringing himself to comprehend Soiree's words, Alba let out a heavy sigh.
"---Even so, I'm still going."
"Brother..."
Stunned by Soiree's expression, Alba felt a sharp stab in his chest. Yet he couldn't let go of his determination and couldn't change his mind. If I stay here, I won't be able to be myself. Facing such vague anxiety pained Alba further.
"...I get it, Brother."
Exaggerating a shrug with his shoulders, Soiree laughed clumsily.
"I go where ever Brother goes. That's what I decided ever since we escaped the orphanage."
"Is it okay?"
"Why shouldn't it be? I believe in Brother's judgment more than my own. If Brother's saying this much, then I should just say the same."
Like the blood stain that could never be washed away, Soiree started to put on his coat. But, compared to when they first arrived in this town, his face held a feeling of ambition never seen there before. Thinking that it was due to the town and Fate and his gang's influence, it was a complicated vibe for Alba.
Taking what little cash they had, the twins stealthily climbed out the apartment's window and headed to Second Street by foot. While it was the only exit to the outside world from this town, they had to hurry to find tickets and buy other essentials for their trip. There was a drugstore by the apartment, but too many people in the vicinity knew their faces and names.
Looking up on whim, Alba saw a starry night but it was eclipsed by the smoke, the stars twinkling weakly. Ever since their parents' death and their childhood in the orphanage, he and Soiree would look up at the stars together. He sensed that the sight was more beautiful than the one above him, yet it was hard for him to remember it now.
"B...Bro."
Alba snapped out of his meditation when Soiree quietly pulled on his sleeve. Vivid shadows were cast upon the colorful neon lights around them. Waiting for them several meters ahead were four or five young people in their twenties, chuckling as they frivolously laughed getting off a broken-down opencar.
"It's them."
He remembered them at first glanced. He couldn't forget even if he wanted to.
When Alba and Soiree first came to this town, they were unable to withstand their hunger and planned to offer to be "helping hands" at a drugstore. But they were discovered and couldn't escape when they were caught by those guys. Rather than taking the boys to the police, they were brought to the back alley and made to be their "sand bag substitutes". Chance had later told him that that drugstore had people with "The Organization" in it. Those punks were constituent members and when trouble is in the community, it's smart -or put it bluntly, easy- to say that it was their work.
Alba understood why people warned about having healthy looking bodies in the area. "The Organization" wanted to prove that they were above and beyond anyone there, including children. They would have continued beating them, even if they were unconscious, just to prove this to the other people in the slums.
"-------"
The fear, disgrace, and pain from that night came rushing back. An anger threatened to overflow from his chest and burst out, making it difficult to suppress. As if he were representing Alba's feelings, Soiree balled his hands into fists and uttered.
"It makes me a little disgusted... Leaving this town with the way those guys are..."
Back then, they were starved and tired. The twins were confident they could beat anyone, even if they were older than them, as they had many times before. Those thugs were begging for any spec of talent and gave them a beating until they were half-dead. If they weren't ever going to return to this town and not get back at them, it was like waving the white flag. It certainly didn't feel too good.
Without saying anything, Alba took a glance at Soiree's face. Soiree scrubbed the tip of his nose with his thumb, laughing a bit. As if they were signaled to, Alba and Soiree broke into a sprint at the same time. When the punks noticed the sound of footsteps coming towards them, the twins simultaneously kicked their feet on the asphalt.
"Gu, bu"
"Go----"
Putting all their weight into their speed, the twins smashed their feet smack dab in the middle of two punks' faces. In an instant, two men were down.
"Who are you---?!"
Startled from the sudden attack, the punks recognized they were the boys they beat half-dead the other day came back and the remaining ones were briefly astonished.
"Take this as your reward!"
Soiree, who was caught by the nape of his neck from one of the punks and was about to be attacked, shouted as he head-butt his assailant in the nose.
"Fugah!"
"Here you go!"
As the man backed away instinctively from the blow, Soiree turned and hit him with a twisting kick. Soiree didn't get any formal martial arts training, but he possessed a naturally gifted balance, and was able to kick in beautiful form in a way that no one else could copy.
"This stupid kid!"
"You say that when you aren't an adult yourself."
Alba calmly faced a tattooed skinhead wielding a knife. As the tip of the blade raced towards his chest, he quickly replaced his position.
"Damn you!"
Seeing the sideways blow coming towards him, Alba avoided it in a simple swaying of his feet and directed his blow to the man's ankle.
"Uo--! Gu!"
Holding his hand in front of the face of the man who tipped his balance, Alba threw him into the bonnet of the convertible to his heart's content. The car's polish sparkled for a moment before it became a defective article, ruined much like the man that was sent flying into it.
That leaves---
When he was searching for the remaining man, he heard the sound of several more men showing up from the shop.
"You little maggots!"
"Scum!"
"Soiree!"
"I got it!"
Pushing aside the knocked out punks, Alba ran past them. They were able to beat those four since they were able to surprise them with their ambush and speed. This time, if they were surrounded, it could be disastrous and could lead to a repeat of last time. The gangsters couldn't reach them anymore if they got to the station in time. Imagining that there more enemies that they could handle, Alba and Soiree attempted to break past them without looking back.
"Hold it!"
As they came to a crossroads behind a trailer, someone finally caught hold of Alba's shoulder.
"Ch!"
Without looking, he raised his right leg to hit behind him.
"Gyah!"
As his pursuer fainted from being hit in a "vital area", the boys booked down a right hook to their destination.
"....!"
At that moment, pain shot through Alba's right arm.
"Brother?!"
Seeing that Alba had stopped in his movements, Soiree whipped back to his brother with wide eyes.
"I'm your opponent now, maggots!"
The punk that caught up to them kicked Soiree, sending the boy crashing into the telephone box at the corner. The sound of the glass breaking exploded in the downtown night. A middle-aged woman who happened to be in the place saw it, screamed and turned away from the street of the disturbance with uncanny swiftness.
"Gu!"
"Soiree----"
Their surroundings were encircled by the punks, beating Alba and Soiree. He didn't know how many had came to beat on them. They suffered an endless amount of punches and kicks, and more still as the punks thrashed from everywhere. There were a lot of shops with "The Organization" in the area, and members came from all around them.
"Damn it...!"
Enduring the crack of his bone, Alba flung himself at a man in front of him.
Because such a trouble became an everyday occurrence, people started the signal to part and wait from afar, watching Alba and Soiree's solitary struggle.
What cold-hearted adults. Or at least that's what shouldn't be thought. It's because it's a natural reaction. This wasn't a world where everyone alive likes to intervene on others' fight. In Alba's mind, he hated when people tried to half-heartedly live up to such a heroic fantasy by reaching out their hand only to pull it away. Rather than failing to live up to that image, it was better to not get involved from the start.
"I... We..."
Standing back to back with Soiree, Alba subconsciously let this phrase slip.
We don't believe in anyone. We don't rely on anyone. We only have to believe and rely on ourselves. Any other person is just an outsider.
Biting back these words within himself, he hit the face of the man in front of him. In return, he pummeled him several times more. Somehow the more men Alba and Soiree beat, plenty came to replace them until it was too much for them to handle.
As the men surrounded the exhausted twins, their lungs were greedy for air. A man holding a knife too large to be considered for cutlery was suddenly thrown into a street light, blowing a bubble before he fainted.
It wasn't Alba who did it. It wasn't Soiree who did it.
"...So this is where you two were."
Naturally addressing them, he came towards the boys and the men encircling them were instantly divided. Looking like he had ran everywhere and with sweat beading all over him, his face told them that he was glad to see them.
"It's... it's Fate----"
Someone within the circle of punks identified the man and their faces became blank with surprise. Seeing the unfitting smile on his face unsettled them, some uttering a mummer of awe. As Fate began to look more pleased with his reunion with the twins, his entire face struck fear in the punks.
"Fate..."
Unknowingly, Alba had voiced his name. He sighed with relief though he felt conflicted once he became aware of it. As he began to become rejuvenated, it confused him.
Why do I see this fool's smile and feel calm for no reason?
As he wrestled with the "it can't be" and "there's no way it can be" and tried to shake them out with a fierce denial, a single punk was unable to stand the silence and gushed forth.
"Who cares, get 'em! If we get rid of 'em, we can rule the streets!"
"I dare ya to come here----"
"Slaughter 'em!"
Toughening themselves up, the punks began to move. The fear of the strongest man in the slums faded as they unanimously shouted their insults. Three of them charged towards the trio.
"!"
"It's all right."
Seeing the twins resuming their stance, Fate assured them.
"I'm here with you two now. It's all right."
On what grounds did Fate have to say those words? Alba had wisely listened to his words and had already formulated an answer. Fate looked no different than the neighborhood nice guy, but there had to be a reason why he was called the strongest in the slums.
"I said that I would look after your burdens, didn't I?"
Within the same instant, the people who were coming towards them were suddenly sprawled on the ground and crawling away; Fate merely shook his fist lightly and winked at the twins. As the men on the ground had received countless amounts of blows from Fate's mighty fist, the men who watched felt their spirits drained. Of course, Alba and Soiree were just as speechless.
"Whatever you two think, you're my "family" now. Once I make a promise, I never break it. I'm just a simple guy who only has the talent to fight after all."
Fate turned and began to hit the other men around them. Even if he was the strongest and boldly jumped into the fray bare-handed with no hesitation and with no means of knowing his enemies numbers, the boys spared time for a verbal chat with one another about the promise that was shared.
".....He's really an idiot."
"Even if he's an older adult."
As the boys murmured these lines, Soiree couldn't contain the laughter bubbling from within him and Alba even spared an enjoyable smile. Laughing like his younger brother would have looked unbecoming on his face. Scratching his forelock of hair lightly, Alba then clasped his right fist.
"If we're beside that man, we can become an idiot and a dupe together."
So saying, Alba and Soiree ran forward.
Later, Chance came driving up in his beloved car and the four of them fought off the punks together. Either half of them ran away or half of them were knocked out during that time.
"...The hell... There's the brats we have and then we've got you!"
Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, Chance had tried to bite back his anger, but he finally slipped and let loose.
"You're the damn leader of "Sons of Fate", right? Then think more about what you're getting yourself into!"
He was reproving Fate's recklessness for fighting "The Organization" and making himself a marked enemy to save the twins. Since Fate's large frame couldn't fit the narrow seats, he took the back seat himself. He laughed like it was a bad joke and smiled timidly.
"I believed that you would come to save me like always. You were worried about Alba and Soiree too, right?"
"Shut up! You just shut the hell up, idiot!"
Chance turned up the volume of his car radio and took a sharp turn on the wheel.
It was close to dawn. The four of them rode in a white Corvette heading towards Southtown Port. Sucking in the early breeze of daybreak, Alba murmured.
"If I believe in others, my heart will depend on people and I'll become weak."
Not directing these words to anyone, he inadvertently spoke his thoughts.
"If I become weak, I can't protect Soiree. So I don't believe in anyone."
If I don't believe in them, they can't betray me. If I think that someone is a traitor from the first meeting, then even if they catch me off guard, I won't feel like I've been betrayed. That's why Alba has never trusted anyone except for Soiree. In Europe or when they first arrived in America.
"Are you scared of being betrayed by someone?"
"...Scared?"
Fate had questioned him so Alba gradually looked at his face. Soiree was in the passenger's seat and he noisily sang to the pop songs on the radio until he unexpectedly dozed off. He must have been tired since they had fought well past midnight.
"...Maybe."
Alba crossed over his seat to verify his brother's sleeping face, nodding quietly.
"We've been betrayed by so many people. So many of them had looked at us like we were dead. Rather than to taste the feeling again, it's easier just to not believe in people. ...But Soiree would never betray me. I would never betray Soiree. I thought that was enough."
"What elegant brotherly love -is what I want to say, but aren't you ten years too early to be abandoning the world like that?"
Chance lightly chuckled at Alba's confession.
"Because my partner doesn't betray me, I believe in them. That's an arrogant way of thinking, Alba. When you believe in somebody, you don't expect a guaranteed payback. Who cares if they betray. It's more important that they have people who believe in them from the bottom of their hearts."
"...I never expected to hear a line like that from the realist. I thought you were the one who trusted no one."
"That was one of those pick-ups that Chance uses to persuade women."
Brushing a hand through his hair as his sweat dried, Fate laughed.
"Even if you betray me, the love I feel for you won't change. Or something like, it's one you use a lot, right?"
"Trying to make him believe in others is just another way to saying he needs to fall in love with others. It doesn't matter if they're a man or a woman. ...Am I wrong?"
"Well, it's similar at least."
"I may look like I don't rely on anyone, but that's just a misunderstanding. I can tolerate this guy on an everyday basis, but I have high expectations on who I'll trust. ...I think you're like me in that sense, Alba."
Looking and talking at Alba with the back mirror, he pointed over his shoulder to Fate sitting behind him.
"On the other hand, our Mr. Leader's standards are way too low. He trusts anyone and everyone way too easily, falling into so many traps and staring death in the face too many times. Then he doesn't learn a bloody thing from his experiences and just keeps going. If he didn't care about being ran out on, he wouldn't have taken you brothers in. He keeps getting cheated by the women too."
"Well, to get back on track, it just means that my love is deeper than your's, right?"
"It's not deeper, you're just too forgiving. But then again, having a stupidly humane gang serve under you might be one of your good points."
Shifting his shoulders, Chance laughed. Chance probably believed in Fate from the bottom of heart and Fate probably considered Chance the person he believed in the most. Seeing the two of together made Alba finally loosen his jaw.
They were really stupid but good grown-ups.
"What's so funny, Alba?"
Fate asked once he became aware of the boy's face.
"Nothing... it's just that I'm actually a little afraid to trust someone who can be fooled so easily."
"Hey."
"But, somehow pairing you with the distrustful Chance makes a happy balance for me."
"Is that supposed to be praise?"
"It's not. It's just the simple truth."
"You're still not cute."
"Hearing you say that makes me thankful."
As the light of the day began to rise, Alba narrowed his eyes.
"I was thinking that I want to someday become the one person in this town that no one here will look down on."
That was Alba's goal as he decided to live here with Soiree.Nagase & Luise: Night Gaspard[]
https://game.snk-corp.co.jp/official/kof-mi2/novel2/index.html
When I chewed the tablet, an indescribable bitterness spread in my mouth.
"Even though I take one tablet every day without fail, I still can't get used to this taste."
"Even so, the reason I continue to take this tablet as instructed may be because I'm slightly addicted."
"Since it's just a nutritional supplement, I should be able to make it even tastier. It's not bad, at all."
Crouching on top of the dome-shaped roof of the Opera House, Nagase stared down at the stone-paved plaza in dejection.
Tonight's performance is "Don Giovanni".
However, it was already past the end of the performance, and the square in front of the Opera House was crowded with satisfied-looking spectators and a crowd of cars that had come to pick them up.
Nagase, who was absent-mindedly listening to the murmuring of the ladies and gentlemen on their way home, noticed a luxury car that appeared in the square and lightly touched the frame of her sunglasses with her fingertips.
With a faint electronic sound, the view through the lens turns red.
Equipped with various sensors, the lens surface, which also serves as an ultra-compact display, had a close-up of Maybach's number, picking up a beautiful woman in a black dress and leaving the front of the Opera House.
"Oooh, you're in a nice car, young lady."
Nagase smiled sarcastically, flicking the star earrings hanging from his ear and muttering.
"--I'm heading over there right now. Don't make a mistake because it's a black Maybach."
"I got it"
A brooding man's voice answered Nagase's muttering, and he remained silent.
"Well..."
Nagase lay down on her back on the sloping roof. With both her arms as a pillow, she looks up at the starry night sky.
"Then let's see how Mr. Duke does it."
"--assassination?"
After staring at the photo in his hand for a while, Nagase tilted her head at the word "him".
"This woman?"
"Oh yes"
A man's voice echoes hollowly in the empty hall.
Standing still with his back to Nagase, "he" gazed out the window at the stormy night with dancing lightning.
Nagase said as she sat down on the woven sofa and gazed at the photo through the faint light of the candle.
“——But you sent an invitation to this guy too, right?”
"I don't remember sending it."
"Huh? Then how did you come to participate in the upcoming tournament?"
"It's a little irregular, but... it's not like there's no way to take over from the fighter who received the invitation."
"Take over? Isn't it wrong to take it away?"
"Of course, I don't know if the method of transfer was peaceful or violent."
His long hair swayed and "he" purred. It was an eerie laugh.
“Anyway, since there is a tournament to determine the world’s strongest, it is the custom of the King of Fighters to allow such intruders to participate.
"Looks like an idiot"
With her head resting on the armrest of the sofa, Nagase lay down.
"--Well, I don't know why, but the point is, you don't want her here?"
"At least not now.
"So, what is this guy? Are you acquaintances?"
"That's not your business. You just have to follow my instructions. . . . Do you understand, "Type N"?
"I know. I should definitely kill this guy, right?"
"No, I'm talking about 'Type D'--Mr. Duke--. You're going to support him."
"Huh~?"
At "him"'s words, Nagase let out a voice of frank dissatisfaction and stood up.
"--Why? I'm better suited than Duke if I'm going to secretly dispose of the target! Don't you know how to put the right person in the right place?"
"I don't understand your dissatisfaction, but 'Type N'."
"He" slowly looked back at Nagase. His eyes caught the girl over his shoulder, and he was laughing with a sluggish glow like mercury.
"With <Mephistopheles> destroyed, Mr. Duke has been disgraced and lost his position as a senior executive. We must give him a chance to make a comeback."
"What do you mean last chance?"
"Whether it's the last or not depends on his work.—Anyway, your mission is to support Mr. Duke."
"Then, what if Duke screws up? Is it okay to let this woman go?」
"If that becomes the case, then you should finish the job... if you can, that is."
"————"
Thinking that he was making a fool of himself, Nagase lightly glared at "his" back.
Nagase, who had fallen asleep while being blown by the night breeze, was awakened by a faint call sign that started ringing in his ears. She immediately sits up and gently picks up the star earrings.
"Huh... this is Nagase. What happened?"
"In a sense, it may be developing as you expected."
Nagase's sleepy eyes widened at the sound of "him".
"——Lost contact from Mr. Duke."
"Did he happen to screw it up?"
Nagase sat up on the roof and listened back, and there was an unmistakable color of joy in her voice.
"Don't get too excited. Details are still unknown, but there is no doubt that some kind of trouble has occurred. It would have been best if we could have dealt with it in a secluded place---I've been forced to leave it in your hands, 'Type N'."
"If this was going to happen, you should have left it to me from the beginning. Isn't that right?"
"It's just an afterthought. I have no intention of arguing with you here and now. ——Her father's cottage is nearby. She will probably spend the night there today.'
"Dawn? I'm not going to make you worship tomorrow's sunrise."
Nagase's bright silhouette vanished from the roof of the Opera House, leaving only her arrogant voice.
A few seconds later, Nagase appeared like a haze on the street near the declining Opera House, displayed a satellite map of the region on the lens surface of his sunglasses, and started running.
As far as Nagase knows, the assassination target is a talented woman who is quite famous in the German music world. She was an enchanting beauty who skillfully plays many instruments from all over the world, and whose beautiful voice attracts many people.
Her name is Luise Meyrink.
However, she was still just a graduate student, and before that, she was a woman far removed from martial arts. Why did Luise participate in the King of Fighters? Why was she able to participate? I do not know.
But Nagase didn't think she wanted to know that.
All Nagase had to do was to complete the missions given to her and prove her high level of "specs".
Nagase knew she was a very boring person, but at least she was happy with it for now.
"————"
In the darkness of the night, Nagase, who had run without light through a thick forest, recognized an elegant mansion on a gentle hill in her path. It's not that big of a villa for the Meyrink family, who are said to be wealthy for generations, but it doesn't look bad.
Placing her hand on the frame of her sunglasses, Nagase frowned.
"Hmm...? Didn't she already go to sleep?"
The mansion seen through the sensor had no lights on, and there was no sign of anyone awake inside. It's quiet and quiet, like the surrounding countryside.
"If there is anyone, it's that woman... and the butler who plays the driver.
The location, moderately far from nearby towns and private houses, was perfect for Nagase's mission tonight. She would sneak into the mansion, secretly kill the target, then sets the area on fire. By the time the fire brigade arrives from town, all possible evidence of the assassination—including the corpse—will have turned to ashes.
Touching the hilt of the Nintō Blade on his back, Nagase jumped from treetop to treetop with monkey-like agility and started moving again.
“——Tattoo!”
At that time, a bright light suddenly shone from the pitch-black mansion.
Nagase landed on top of a thick branch and hid behind the leaves to see what was going on in the mansion.
Through the open gate, Maybach appeared in its gigantic, glowing black body. At this time when the date is about to change, where on earth are you planning to head?
"... Huh"
The Maybach that went down the narrow road in front of Nagase and passed by had only the target beautiful woman on board.
"--You're not going to drive such a big car yourself and go out on the town for a night out, are you?"
After seeing Maybach off, Nagase hesitated for a while.
"Are you going to chase and attack him while he's in the car?" With Nagase's physical ability, that was possible, but in the end, her curiosity won out.
It's not too late to get rid of her after confirming where that beauty is going.
midnight--.
From the abandoned church, which had long been deserted, I could hear the sounds of an old-fashioned organ.
Nagase didn't know what song it was.
All she could barely tell was that it seemed to be a very complex song and that the person playing it seemed to have a great talent.
The engine of the Maybach parked in front of the church has completely cooled down. Nagase, who was peering into Maybach's car, looked at the door of the church, which was leaking a faint light, and lifted her lips.
"I'm a nuisance to my neighbors, so I'm going to this place to practice piano?
Shaking her head, Nagase climbed the stone steps of the church.
When she pulled open the worm-eaten door with both hands, the sound of the organ, which had been leaking thinly, burst out all at once.
The dimly lit hall is lined with wooden benches, and the flickering candlelight casts irregular shadows on the floor. In that desolate place of worship, only the area around the organ placed beyond the innermost altar seemed to be colored brilliantly.
Nagase closed the door behind him, dusted off a bench, and sat down.
A young woman with beautiful silver hair like the stars falling in the night sky was playing a highly difficult piece on a broken organ without a score.
"Luise Meyrink"
When the woman's fingertips stopped perfectly on the organ's keyboard after 10 minutes of playing, Nagase finally opened her mouth.
"--That's you right?"
“…………”
Perhaps immersed in the afterglow of the performance, the woman who had been looking down for a while slowly stood up and looked back at Nagase.
"And who are you?"
"Don't answer a question with a question. You're not a kid."
Push up on her sunglasses while touching the frame with her finger. After confirming that the icon on the lens surface indicated the start of recording, Nagase continued.
“——Why are you practicing the piano in a place like this?”
"This is not a piano. It's an organ."
"Either way is fine, that's what it is"
"... it might be."
Shrugging her shoulders at Nagase's curt response, the woman - Luise Meyrink, smiled with her lips tinted with her blue rouge.
"A part of my father's library is kept in that villa. It's very important memento of my father. So, I thought it would be bad that if something happened to it."
"What could possibly happen?"
Luise's gaze looking back at Nagase was as if it were directed at her old friend, which made her feel rather unnatural.
"Donesn't this momento look a lot like something else?"
"That's one of my worries, too."
She closed the keyboard lid, leaned lightly on it, and Luise slowly shook her head.
"Even though it's about my own father, I can't help but see it as an objective."
"Maybe that just means you're a cold-hearted person."
"... That might be so."
Luise never tried to deny Nagase's terribly rude words.
"But you don't seem to be just a human, do you?"
"I don't care if I'm ordinary or not. I'm just here to get rid of you."
"Were you the one who followed me when I left the Opera? —No, you're not."
"Hee, you noticed."
If that's the case, Nagase could somehow imagine why Luise had left her villa alone in the middle of the night to come all the way here. She doesn't know what kind of "special ability" she has, but apparently Luise came here with the intention of meeting Nagase.
She left the organ and Luise stood directly in front of Nagase.
"What is your purpose?"
"Hmmm?"
"Aren't you the one who's been kidnapping the world's most famous scientists, including my father?"
"Huh?... Who are you talking about?"
Nagase put her hands behind his back and released the Nintōblade's safety.
"--I don't really understand you, but it looks like you're getting too involved in all sorts of unnecessary things. If that's the case, it can't be helped if your life is targeted."
"Is that so?"
"No comment... like I just said, I'm just here to get rid of you."
"yes……"
Luise sighed exaggeratedly at Nagase's blunt words. Her long silver hair swayed as she weakly shook her head, making a rustling sound like sand.
“As expected, the only way to get closer to the truth is to keep fighting and winning.
"Hey, you're crazy"
Rubbing the tip of her nose with her fingers, Nagase kicked her to the floor.
"--Then, show me you're strong enough to break into that tournament!"
From a casual movement like the first step taken from the front door, which was lighter than a skip, Nagase showed a big leap that reached her ceiling and attacked Luise.
"Ha!"
Kicking the bare beam, Nagase plummeted sharply.
Her thick-soled boots graze the tip of Luise's nose as she pulls back slightly, causing her floorboards to bend.
Then Luise's kick flew at him, but it was an obvious amateur kick that could not be called a kick from Nagase's point of view.
"You're an amateur!?"
Nagase easily dodged the toes of her low-cut boots, pulled the Nintō blade out of her back, and slashed at her. A lightning-quick blow that an amateur who is out of balance cannot dodge.
However, Luise dodged it.
It was supposed to be made for her to fight, "Type N" - Nagase's slashes were dodged by Luise body leaning back.
"Is it a coincidence?"
At first she thought so.
No matter how you look at it, Luise's body movements were not those of a martial artist, nor were they those of a person who had undergone special combat training. It's not like the "pros" are showing amateurish moves to get Nagase off guard.
Luise's movements were truly that of an amateur.
That's why Nagase tried to think that the blade that was supposed to be digging into her throat just didn't reach by a few centimeters because the amateur twisted his body in pain.
However, Nagase soon realized something was wrong.
"this guy!?"
Contrary to the fact that she seemed to be an amateur who had never tried martial arts, Luise's gaze, which continued to dodge Nagase's unbroken attacks, followed Nagase's movements. Nagase frowned at the imbalance between her dexterity, but her kinetic vision was that of an expert – or even more.
Moreover, the speed itself is by no means slow.
Luise's movements, flashing her limbs at a unique tempo, were more like a dance than a martial art, and there was even a certain beauty to them.
"What are you doing!"
Nagase grabbed the shuriken that popped up from inside his arm protector and threw it at Luise's vital point.
“——OK”
Luise drew a large circle in front of her chest with both of her hands, and a mirror-like light condensed there, flicking the special alloy shuriken away.
"Wha! What did you do just now!?"
How did this woman repel the shuriken that easily pierced the concrete wall? In response to Nagase's question, her eyes widened in surprise, Luise replied with her long legs.
From a soft jump, Luise, ignoring gravity and inertia to close the gap with Nagase, rotated her body like a top and fired a kick.
"Tsu--"
Nagase's body collapses as he guards against her sideways blow. Furthermore, the heels of Luise's boots fell on her head.
"... chee"
Nagase's body disappeared from the spot, leaving only an annoyed click of his tongue.
At the same time, crimson flames spread all at once around her.
“——To go too flashy and allow the local authorities to intervene is not really a compliment.”
"He" smiled as he calmly sat down on a gorgeously decorated chair.
The monitor in front shows the battle with Luise Meyrink that Nagase recorded that night and brought back.
“If the fire brigade, the police, and all the people who rushed to the scene had all been dealt with, I would have killed that woman. You're the one who contacted me to come back on the way."
“If you go that far, it’s just terrorism.
Glancing at Nagase over his shoulder, "he" rearranged his long legs and continued with a sigh.
"... However, there were too many irregularities from the beginning that night. It would be cruel to blame only you."
"So what happened to Duke?"
"I gave him an invitation and let him participate in the tournament. If I ever run into that woman during the tournament, then I'll have him carry out his original mission."
"What about me?"
"I will give you the same mission. Leave only the truly strong who deserve the name of KOF, and weed out the weak. And if you ever meet that woman again--"
"He" kept his mouth shut, but she knew what he meant at once.
“…………”
Leaning against the door of the dark room, Nagase stared at the monitor.
The recorded video shot from Nagase's point of view vividly reminds Nagase of the whole story of that night's battle, even if she doesn't like it. That sense of incompatibility when confronting Luise, the mysterious power she possesses——.
Nagase shifted her gaze to "his" back.
"Who is she?"
“You mean Luise Meyrink?”
"That woman was caught in that flame and still alive, right?"
"Her untimely death would make some news because she's a bit of a celebrity in her homeland."
"Hey, she wasn't just a normal person."
"Anyway, as long as you're going to participate in this tournament, you can't be a normal human being. You were aware of that, weren't you 'Type N'? Because I was surprised that she wasn't a normal human—or what?"
"I don't make excuses that aren't cool."
Nagase turned around and put her hand on the doorknob.
“…The next time we meet, I will definitely kill her. I don’t know who she is, but I will never let her advance to the finals.”
"I hope so."
Nagase left the room while listening to the nasty laughter of "him" behind her.
She climbed onto the roof of a giant mosque, looked up at the stars, and Nagase threw the tablet into his mouth.
"Tonight, it felt bitterer than usual."Lien & Duke: Back[]
https://game.snk-corp.co.jp/official/kof-mi2/novel3/
Alba: Alba & Soiree[]
http://game.snkplaymore.co.jp/official/kof-mi2/novel4/index.html
He quietly observed the two animals at his feet. The two cats drank their milk busily, a damp lip-lap of their tongues resounding throughout the room. Each wore a collar with a silver accessory, one being a spade and the other a diamond. Both of the silver charms were handmade by Soiree. On that night when town was marked red with a fire, these cats were found by him and were brought to their home. Soiree had made them their collars, but he still didn't name them.
It was three days since Alba had last seen Soiree.
"...I can't take it."
Leaning against the wall whilst watching the cats, Alba Meira took his sunglasses off the table and started to head out of the room.
"---Whoa!"
Just as Alba was hurrying his exit, he almost ran into Noel in the creaking corridor. He composed himself to a stop.
"What's wrong, Noel?"
"Ah, er, well... it's nothing really but..."
Scratching the tip of his nose, Noel eluded his gaze. He looked as though he were embarrassed to be there, his mouth seeming to search for the proper words to say. Alba put on his sunglasses and closed the door behind him.
"I'm going out for a bit."
"What? But it's night already!"
"Noel, I am not a child. It's natural to want to see the town at night from time to time."
"N-No, I didn't mean it like that... It's, um, I was thinking... what are you planning to do at this time of day?"
"...That's private."
Managing to spit out these simple words, Alba sighed as he couldn't answer the question given to him. He began to walk away.
"---I'll be back by dawn. The cats had plenty of milk so if they get noisy, put them outside."
"Ah, right..."
Hearing Noel's dispirited voice behind him, he opened the door leading to the rust covered stairs and headed out. The essence of Southtown's air, mingled with the exhaust of vehicle emissions, put Alba's mind in a haze.
Three days have passed. It was barely three days after the finals of the King of Fighters tournament. Alba remembered fighting a strange man named Jivatma and prevailing as the victor. But, what happened after that, he can't clearly recall. Even at that moment, he only saw everything as though it were a flashback on a screen. The crumbling mosque, a vivid starry night sky, and a pale butterfly that reminded him of a woman's face. As for what exactly happened there, he couldn't clearly think about or explain it.
Alba only realized one unmovable, undeniable fact from it all. Some time during the fight, Soiree had disappeared.
The woman who seemed to hold the truth behind all of his questions appeared before him once, but she vanished as though she were a fading illusion. He hadn't met her since. Wandering through the town at night -searching for that woman or simply because he ended up that way- even Alba didn't know why or where he was going. Only feeling the confusion and remorse boil inside him, it was impossible for him to look upon the lively yet indecent town with the same zeal he once had.
It was only three days, but this town's "King" felt a gapping hole in his chest and felt an expanding and longer gnaw of time within him.
As he stared at his feet moving him forward, Alba heard a familiar foreign rhythm float into his ears. He looked up. He was close to Delta Park, the blazing downtown neon lights stimulating his retina. He knew he wasn't in "Sons of Fate" territory anymore. However, he knew that it wasn't the turf for any other organization. Even in this town filled with gangs and the mafia littering and claiming whatever they came across, there were still air pockets free from their influences. Places untouched like this area.
This Pao Pao Cafe was the "fighters' social spot", the spot where fighters could come every night and not be bothered by any organization. An organization trying to lay a single hand on this place was like asking for a fight with every fighter in the city.
Stopping there as he gazed up at the all too happy neon sign, Alba adjusted his sunglasses and entered. As soon as the door slided open, all the sounds from the berimbau, pandeiro, and caxixí rushed toward him, a river of sounds and beats. Then, as the people on the floor came to greet Alba, they acted a little surprised to see him.
"......"
Alba would never be able to understand how he became something of a celebrity in this town. He could only gauge from their glances their curiosity and wonder, as if they were doubting what they saw before them. At least in this store, everyone knew who Alba Meira was and the man who carried that name.
The inside of the store was built to have an open ceiling, making it possible to see the entire store from the terraced second floor. Alba searched for an empty seat on the second floor, ignoring the gazes and whispers, and sat by himself at a table.
"---Good evening, Hell Alba Meira. Will you be alone tonight?"
In no time at all, a man with dreadlocks for hair came to him with a menu. The man wore a spotless white shirt and black slacks, cutting a clear-cut bartender image. The fine, delicate bowtie did its best, but it couldn't completely conceal the hard toned body of training that hid underneath the gentle image. Alba thought that his manners were very calm, a little too much for his liking, as he accepted the menu. Perhaps this man was just like this with everyone.
"...Am I truly that famous?"
"I can't say for myself if that's true."
The man adjusted the small, round silver tray a bit to his side. He looked down at the floor below and chuckled a little.
"---I've been working at this place for awhile and that's just what the people say."
"I see... Apparently I just made myself the unwanted guest in this place."
"No, please don't be offended. They must think that you being here is unusual. They may have not expected this city's "King" to come to this place himself."
He also said his own surprise before jotting down an order. Even with the presence of the "great" Alba Meira, the store resumed its normal atmosphere and drowned with the other customers' chatter. The African religious sounding music rang throughout the area, uplifting the hearts of all that heard it. On the stage area were people prancing with Capoeira steps. They must have been the staff in the store.
But, if Soiree were there, he would have danced with steps that outclassed any other and would have bathed in the applause of the entire store.
Alba pictured the scene and smiled. It was a weak, small grin that leaked without him realizing, but it was able to faintly appear on his features.
"----Hey, Hell Meira."
Not bothering to meet with the gaze of the voice, a man he remembered seeing before came near with a tray.
"Mestre Ricardo---"
"It's not "Master" Mestre. I'm visiting today. My store's still being renovated."
"Then why are you imitating the boy?"
"Hey, I just heard that you'd be coming here."
Richard Meyer, the owner of the first Pao Pao Cafe and one of the martial artists in Southtown known by name. Hoping to show off Capoeira from his homeland and abroad, he was an experienced capoeirista who opened the store at the same time to teach young fighters his techniques. Richard walked closer to Alba's table, unloading a dish with a pile of churrasco and a drink within a Caipirinha glass.
"I thought I ordered a Diebels."
"Since you personally came to the store, I'd appreciate it if you tried the caipirinha at least once. I always use the highest quality cachaça for each caipirinha I make... Or does it prove to be too much hard alcohol for you?"
"Not weak with my liquor... but it is true that I don't take hard drinks too often."
As Richard recommended, Alba brought the lime colored glass to his lips. Caipirinha was a cocktail that consisted of raw sugarcane distilled in liquor, spritzed with sugar and the skin and juices from limes. Alba gulped a portion of it in his mouth, and was startled by the initial sweetness. Then a bitter pucker came to his lips from the sour and bitter taste. It was a completely different experience from his usual Diebels, one that he hasn't tasted before.
This would be something that Soiree would be into, Alba thought. Again, he smiled, if only a little, at the thought.
"I'm in the middle of renewing the place right now, but do you think you could come by the first store sometime? Maybe you could come together with your friends next time."
"I suppose, but wouldn't that cause problems with you?"
"If you are okay with it, then I'm okay."
Adding some spice to a churrasco, Richard took a bite out of it as he laughed.
"---Doesn't matter if you're in a gang or not. If you walk into one of my stores, I won't discriminate amongst my guests. You're the type of man who doesn't cross others, right?"
"I try to be sensible, but I have my share of enemies all the same."
"Enemies, huh... Seems tough to always carry the title of "King"."
Shifting his posture, as if someone were watching them, Richard changed his countenance entirely.
"This maybe old news, but have you noticed that these enemies of yours are becoming more lively day by day?"
"......"
Alba couldn't answer and his gaze dropped to the floor.
"Actually, today I went to Central Market and met that girl. You know the one I'm talking about, the hyper one who wears bells all the time."
"...Yeah."
"Basically, Chinatown has gangsters who don't want to get involved. They are always pushing for neutrality. ...So, wouldn't it benefit you to go meet them in private and make ties with them?"
Long ago, when Fate was still alive, the man spoke in his favor and Alba had learned Chinese boxing from the elders in Chinatown. Their time together was not long, but he would never forget the depth of obligation he held for them.
"Even if they can't openly support you in public, they're still worried about you. That girl told me that there's another group on the move to try to become the new "King" in town."
"...Because Soiree's not around."
Pushing his sunglasses aside, Alba uttered these words with a strangled sigh.
"The "King" without his younger brother can't do anything. They must have noticed that by now."
"...What was that?"
Richard suspiciously asked once more.
"What happened to your brother?"
"Soiree's gone."
"I have always -even before we came to this town- fought to protect Soiree. Ever since I have known him and grown attached to him, I would do anything just to defend him."
The lime slice slipped within the tall glass. It fell into the melting ice and rang an awfully loud sound at the table.
"I never wanted to involve Soiree.... But, every time he entrusted me with a decision, somewhere along the way, Soiree became something that I always had to take care of."
Alba sat shallowly on the rattan chair and slowly crossed his legs. His gaze went far beyond the view of his sunglasses.
"But funnily enough, the truth is just the opposite. ---Soiree wasn't the one who needed me; I'm the one who needs him. From the moment he disappeared, I finally realized that for the first time."
Up until then, Alba had always thought Soiree was a child. Yet Soiree was a man capable of thinking for himself, without Alba beside him.
"I'm no good dealing with this complicated stuff, so you decide, Bro."
---Even if he asked Alba, Soiree had actually chose to enter the King of Fighters tournament -one before and the one that happened- by himself. On his own free will, to deal with his own problems with his own strength. Alba didn't realize that Soiree had grown into a man empowered with a strong conviction of his own. Perhaps, he knew deep down that there was only so much he could do while protecting Soiree. Maybe he dared to avert his eyes from what was happening before him.
Whatever he thought before, Alba had to face the truth now.
"...I'm the one who can't do anything without Soiree."
The fist on Alba's knee trembled.
"My comrades all think that I'm a calm and clear-headed man who makes decisions, but I'm nothing like that at all. For my team, for my friends ---I may look like that for them. But it's because I had Soiree with me that I could face any danger with my head held high. The reason I'm on the "King"'s throne was because Soiree had wanted it for me, more than anyone. ...That's all it was."
"That's very masochistic of you."
Richard, who was silent through Alba's monologue, pushed aside the empty glass and heaved a long sigh.
"---Is there anything wrong with that?"
"...What?"
Alba raised his eyes to look at Richard's face.
"I'm a Brazilian who wanted to make Capoeira known to the world by coming to this town. That doesn't mean that I came here just for my love for Capoeira. I fought not only for myself, but also for the sake of my lovely wife. I'd never look down on someone who is devoted to fighting for another. Rather, I think it's proper manners to respect it."
"And yet----But I, I couldn't protect Soiree----!"
Regretfully, Alba's fist hit the table. It wasn't the powerful man called "King" who made the blow; the empty glass was barely shaken from the impact. Richard's chair creaked as he doubtfully tilted his head at the theatrical action.
"I lost midway through the tournament, so I have no idea what you're talking about. ...When you said he was taken away from you, you make it sound like he's dead. Is he?"
"-----"
As he saw Alba's lips clam up, Richard knew he had shocked him.
"Please forgive me for questioning rudely. I'm not just asking to satisfy my curiosity. So, are you feeling regret for not being able to prevent Soiree's death? Is that drink there for the one your brother can't have?"
"...No."
Alba then showed signs of breathing, gently shaking his head quietly.
"Soiree isn't dead yet."
He had no proof, but Alba knew. If Soiree had lost his life, no matter where he was, Alba felt that he would know. Without any parents or any other siblings, the bond he had with his one brother hadn't been cut off. Soiree isn't dead yet. Soiree is still alive somewhere. Then ---what should he be doing?
Sucking in a long breath, Alba adjusted both of his fists on the table. The truth of Soiree's disappearance that had once leaned so heavily on his shoulders was pierced by the eyes of one who knew what to do; it lowered itself far underneath Alba's feet. But, that sensation lasted for just a moment. Now, Alba's gaze had regained its shine and looked at the distant wantings of his desires.
"...It seems I was a little confused."
Alba had uttered these words in his usual, unchanging tone of indifference.
"Yes.... Soiree isn't dead yet. He hasn't died yet. He's just missing."
"Then this isn't the time for you to be here with this cheap drink, is it?"
Richard had meant to wink, but he had to address his attention back to a man's dissatisfied voice.
"Hey, wait a second. Cut me some slack, Richard."
Bob had came near the two with a wry smile, placing a tumbler filled with cold water in front of Alba.
"Couldn't you have said that better? What was that supposed to mean?"
"Don't get too rowdy, Bob. I just meant that he didn't have the time to mull over a sad, dark drink."
"Yeah... I guess you're right. This is a good place for it."
Without them noticing, the Capoeira show had ended and the other eye of the shop would open --the time when the brawlers would take part in their intensive fights was about to begin. During that time, the floor would be tightly packed with people, no margin of room would be available.
"----Come with Soiree next time. He'd be happy."
Staring down at the growing tension he felt on the floor below, Alba drank the water he was given in one gulp.
"Today is all on me, señor."
"My apologies. ...I made you listen to a weird story."
"Nah, I don't mind. I'm used to hearing young people grumbling about their lives."
Richard shrugged his shoulders with a light tug and winked.
"Dear customer, your youth may seem like your weak spot right now, but there's nothing wrong with saying your say about whatever is bothering you. ....You don't have to blame everything and anything on yourself. You're being too mature, dear customer."
"Thank you. I'll remember that."
"Señor Meira."
As Alba was about to go down to the first floor, he was stopped by Bob's hushed voice.
"I saw a suspicious looking group walk out of the store just now. I can't tell for sure, but maybe---"
With Soiree gone and Alba without the arm to support him, it must have been the group who aimed to take the title "King" for themselves. It may have been sometime since he last fought, but Alba couldn't help the small smile at their foolish attempt to underestimate him.
"...Did the drink wake you up enough? Do you need any help?"
"No, it might be a burden for you if you were to cause trouble with any gang."
Answering Richard with a tingling sense of excitement, Alba adjusted the leather straps of his gloves.
"I alone will suffice. ---I'm in the mood for some good mental rehab."
"Well, at least leave from the back door. ...They most likely have their eyes set at that entrance already, but it'll be a better chance for you to not cause a mess near us."
"Indeed. I don't want any trouble to leak to this place."
The smog clouded in what-would-have-been a beautiful starlit sky. His huffs were mixed with the slight scent of alcohol.
"If Soiree were here, he'd be excited by this."
Alba hurried onwards into a gloomy alley as he felt countless stares piercing his back. He may have had a taste for alcohol, but it would no way weaken him to a drunken stupor. As he regulated his breathing during his sprint, the caipirinha's influence receded.
"--Wait right there."
They were faraway from the noise of downtown at a basketball court underneath a viaduct. The shadows of several men quickly surrounded Alba. Pao Pao Cafe would've really had its share of enemies if Alba hadn't lured them away from it.
"Are you Alba Meira?"
Someone in the group of men had spoken to him.
"And if I am?"
Alba eyed and counted the men who surrounded him, in spite of the dark lighting and his sunglasses. He was honestly disappointed; they were too few. Alba would've liked a few more for a proper beating. Escape was no longer an option, at any rate, since his name had been thrown into the open. If he tried to leave without notice, he would be inviting the men to attack his unguarded back.
"If you lot were to take the title, "King", this city would really be done for."
With a pleased expression, Alba moved. His enemies were stupefied to face the genuine article, eying one another as if to trigger a silent signal. The stalled men were sluggish to comply, yet they suddenly descended upon Alba as swift as the wind. Not bothering to hide his agitation for them, Alba slammed his fist into one of the men jumping towards him.
"Gargh!"
The man suffered a punch to his torso and was sent flying back into one of his comrades. Alba wasn't done with them as he used the momentum to turn his body for a spinning kick.
"Ugh!"
Alba felt the shock of his enemy's broken bones through his leg and through the heel of his boot. His victim groaned as a tooth flew and blood spluttered from his face. Everyone was speechless until the man silently crumpled to the ground in a miserable heap.
"You bastard!"
Fists from every direction flew towards Alba, but not a single one had connected. Alba had long predicted them and evaded. Ever since he was a member of Sons of Fate, which also had its fair share of enemies, he was accustomed to fighting groups simultaneously by himself.
If a lone fighter were to lose his footing against such a large group, he was good as dead. It would be impossible for him to move and the trampling from his foes would overwhelm him easily, regardless of the lone fighter's skill or abilities. Alba knew this more than anyone. His large physique ironically made him a liability in this situation, as even a single minor wound could be fatal.
That's why Alba kept moving about and fought the trifling numbers by methodically defeating his foes one by one.
"Alba!"
"You alright!?"
Around the time that his enemy numbers were halved, Alba spotted a familiar face hopping over the rusted fence around the court.
"Is that you Noel?"
"Damn it, you said you were just going for a walk! You gotta stop doing this, Alba!"
With a voice that could raise hell, Noel came bursting through the men with a bright smile on his face. Even Dude, who is often hard to understand since he rarely talked, had a smile on his lips. The two men must've been worried about Alba being out too late and were probably looking high and low for him everywhere.
The duo were the only ones beside him, but, for Alba, they were all that he needed.
"Really? You're fine just letting them go?"
Noel looked dejected as the wounded group licked their wounds and carried their companions away.
"No need to pursue those who lost the will to fight."
After he adjusted his polished sunglasses to their proper spot, Alba shrugged his shoulders.
"Let's say that we did do as you propose. We beat them beyond recognition. Their comrades would then want to retaliate by coming at us to avenge them. I would rather refrain from causing needless bloodshed."
"I get that much, but they're already out for blood, right? We don't know who they are or what group they're from, and, if we don't cut 'em down now, they might think we're looking down on them. The same thing might happen with another group or this group, and you're saying we should be okay with it?"
"They couldn't withstand just the three of us. We've done enough damage to them."
If a third party were asked to state who were the assailants and the victims, they would be hard pressed to identity which side was which. Alba and his friends were untouched –except for their most wounded, Noel, who had a blue bruise hovering around his eye. The group of men were covered in bruises as they painfully dragged themselves away. It was hard to spot the ones whom didn't have broken bones.
"The ones who attacked me aren't even thinking of avenging themselves. Once the other groups against us knows this, they'll quiet down for a time. This is all we need to do for now."
"Oh, so now I'm the one who's out of the loop."
"Don't say that, Noel. Come on, let's go home."
Alba pounded the complaining Noel's shoulder as he walked forward. Noel was still pouting about his new bruise.
Before he had realized it, the eastern sky was brightening and the remnants of the night sky washed away. Pockets of the night tucked away in the corners of the town were bathed away by the splendor. People who roughed up the night returned to their slumber, and the short transition to day was one of the precious moments of silence for Southtown. Noel had walked behind Dude and Alba a few steps, their long shadows stretching across the asphalt. He finally spoke up,
"Not like I'm in the position to say you can't be selfish though."
"What do you mean?"
"Soiree's whereabouts. I'm having the younger guys look for him."
"...I see."
Alba bowed his head a little.
"I'm sorry. We've caused you unnecessary hardship."
"Hey, don't apologize like that."
Trying to hide his embarrassment, Noel lightly nudged Alba's back.
"Both you and Soiree, you two guys are the heart and soul of Sons of Fate. Everybody in the group and the two of us here thinks that. So, don't blame it all on yourself. I ain't perfect and everything, but you, you're pretty awkward sometimes."
"Right... I forgot I had comrades I can trust."
Alba lowered his sunglasses and sighed.
Even if they were to look in this town –in Second Southtown or Glasshill Valley– Soiree wouldn't be found. Noel could have thousands of guys searching for him, but they would never succeed. That's what Alba thought to himself.
But that wasn't going to make him give up on his brother.
On his shoulder was the wing of the devil. Soiree had on his opposite shoulder the wing of the angel. If the two were to be parted, the twins would never fly.
"---I will claim my missing wing."
"What was that?"
"Nothing... That reminds me, how are Friedrich and Wolfgang doing?"
Noel and Dude gave each other questionable looks after hearing Alba's question.
"What's that?"
"Friedrich and Wolfgang. The cats I adopted."
"Oh, those two. Yeah, they're probably sleeping with Anne right now. But wasn't their names Uno and Dos? Gallagher called them that."
"Don't call them such crude names without telling the owner."
Alba's hand familiarly glazed over the handrails of the stairway leading to their apartment. He sternly corrected them.
"Friedrich is the one wearing the spade on his collar. Wolfgang is the one with the diamond. I'd appreciate it if you two honored their dignity."
"Aw, come on! Cats can't understand something like. And what's with those names?! They're so hard to remember!"
"How about Nietzsche and Gothe? I like those names better."
"----"
A cool voice had calmly interrupted their conversation. Alba and his men turned to look behind them in almost perfect unison.
"It's been awhile, Alba Meira."
Highlighted by the dawn's rays, a beautiful woman with a butterfly hairpin stood as though she illuminated the entire slums. She was grounded and had a shadow like any other person, but there was still something mysterious about her.
"Hey, Alba! Isn't she-?"
"Yeah, I know."
He quieted Noel's loud outburst with a hushed voice. Alba addressed their guest.
"I searched for you, Fraulein Meyrink."
"Luise is fine."
The cool gaze she gave hadn't change from their first meeting. Before he was too fierce and demanding with Soiree gone. He was uncharacteristically panicked. Even if she spoke the truth, she must have thought Alba was in no condition to accept it then. Luise had left him suddenly and had only shown herself to him now.
Staring at him for a time, Luise brushed her silver hair and smiled.
"It looks like you cooled your head."
"Yeah."
Alba deeply inhaled and exhaled, nodding his head.
"I think I can listen to you now within reason. Would you be willing to chat with me?"
"Of course. That's why I'm here now."
Confirming Luise's affirmative reply, Alba turned to Noel and Dude and towards the sleeping inhabitants of the apartment above him.
"Go on ahead. I need to talk to her."
"Alba--"
"It's too early to rouse our unhealthy gang from their sleep. Don't say anything to anyone."
"... Okay, boss."
"I'll be back by noon. I'll treat everyone to lunch."
He patted their two shoulders before he walked past them. The burning rising sun pierced his eyes through his sunglasses.
Somewhere, he thought he heard two cats mew, wishing him a safe departure.