Title: Fade 3/3

Title: Fade 3/3

Author: Miru

Rating: PG-13

Warning: No spoilers, largely speculative

Three days later, a Sunday, she can get maybe six out of ten of the targets, seven when she's lucky. And Kazama is awake. That morning, she's practicing in the hallway, and sees him standing in the stairwell. He doesn't say anything, doesn't do anything, and she ignores him -- they're silent like that while she shoots two rounds, and then he turns away, starts down the hallway.

It doesn't matter.

When she heads down to the lower floor several hours later, she finds the place empty. Imakire must be in the store. As usual. It's eerily quiet, and it feels strange to make dinner in the kitchen, the sounds echoing around the silent house -- until there's the click of a door, and she turns to see Imakire walking out of the bedroom. Where Kazama must be asleep.

He notices her, and ambles over, smiling.

"He's doing a lot better, now."

"He came up while I was practicing."

"Ah, well, he shouldn't have, he's not supposed to be moving around -- but he said he's doing better."

"--said?"

Imakire laughs. "He talks to me a bit. Something close to a normal conversation." Leaning over her, he lifts the lid off a pot. "What're you making?"

"Curry."

"Wow, I haven't had proper food in a while."

"It's the least I can do."

"You don't need to do anything, Sakurai-san. I'm glad to help an ally and a friend."

She doesn't answer that one because she doesn't know what to say -- so Imakire goes about setting out two plates and silverware, looking happy. It's almost what most people would consider a normal situation, and Saki can almost relax, sitting down at the table and watching as Imakire tastes the food.

"Wow, this is good."

"I'm relieved."

"Haha, you must have been a good student during those home ec classes."

She gives something close to a wan smile. "Yes. My friends envied me."

They eat in silence for the next few minutes, until Saki speaks up -- something she'd wanted to ask for a while -- "Imakire-san."

"Hmm?"

"How did you escape from the Game?"

As she expected, he laughs before sitting up and thinking for a moment, chewing on his spoon. "I think it was mostly luck. The coast guard was lax, so I jumped off a cliff into the sea. The water happened to short out the collar and kill it -- the guards on boats missed me. There was a bunch of tiny islands nearby, so I swam my way from rock to rock, and to mainland eventually."

"Did anyone find out?"

"Nah, they thought I was dead."

"I see."

A pause, while he swallows a mouthful of food. "--I did have to kill someone, though. If that's what you're wondering."

"--I'm sorry about that."

"Haha, it's okay. I ended up killing more people. It happens in this business." Cleaning out his plate, he got up to get a second helping. "What about you, Sakurai-san? What was the Game like for you?"

"Didn't you say you watched it on TV?"

"-- oh yeah, I did." The plate makes clinking noises when he sits back down, licking at his spoon. "Do you know what Kazama-kun's Game was like?"

She doesn't say no, doesn't say yes, because she isn't sure which answer is right, so she opts for silence, looking down at her plate.

"The TV always makes a big deal about everything that happens. The commentators loved you, Sakurai-san, because you were a good sniper -- like they did for him. A winter game up north near Sapporo. A few kids actually froze to death. Scary, isn't it?"

Saki clearly remembers fighting for her life in ironically pleasant weather -- it's hard to tell whether harsh weather would have made it better or worse. Imakire goes on,

"Sakurai-san, you tried to escape at first, right? Spoke with your friends until they turned on you, then you had to -- get rid of them. That's why you're careful about other people." A pause, then he continues. "People who make it out of the Game alive usually end up with some sort of problem. I know one person who turned a little crazy after winning. I actually feel kind of sorry for him." Imakire takes his time in retelling the story, chewing mouthfuls of food in between his words and swallowing slowly. "Kazama-kun spent five and a half days in the snow without talking, because the one time he tried to say something to a friend, he got shot."

And she looks up.

"I know it hasn't been enough time for you to recover from the Game yet -- it took me an year and a half before I could look at people again without running away." He sets down his spoon on his empty plate, the handle letting out a hollow jangling noise. "But I feel that you should at least know that you can trust your allies. I eventually started meeting people again even though I felt terrible about having murdered, and Kazama-kun tries to talk despite feeling that any noise he makes will get him killed."

When he looks over to her and smiles, she can't help but look away, hands clasped in her lap.

"--we're all just trying to fight this war together, right?"

The clock on the stove beeps, hitting ten o'clock, and Imakire gets up, scratching the back of his neck. "Sorry that turned into a lecture, Sakurai-san. That wasn't right of me." Picking up the used dishes and silverware and dumping them in the sink, he dug up a new plate, spooning out a small helping. "I'll go see if he's good enough to eat something, you should go rest. You've been practicing hard all week, right?"

"Alright."

"Good night!"

"--good night to you, too."

As she makes her way to the stairwell she hears a door opening, and the faint sounds of quiet talking, though they fade away quickly enough into silence, punctured by the distant sounds of traffic. She lies in the tiny bed for a long time, running words and memories through her mind.

--

Saki wakes up the next morning to the sound of quiet movements from the kitchen. Probably Imakire. It's still fairly early, but she's already up, so she gets dressed -- spare clothes that Imakire had dug up out of some boxes of spare supplies, they're a bit big, but it doesn't matter.

Rifle left behind in the room for the moment, she steps out of her room, heads downstairs and peers into the kitchen -- and finds Kazama standing there in front of the stove, cooking something. He looks over when she walks in -- and so she sits down at the table.

He eventually turns around, sets down a plate of cooked rice and vegetables for her and gets some for himself -- his movements seem somewhat stiff. Saki watches as he sets down a second plate before finally speaking.

"Good morning."

And he looks a little surprised at that. Doesn't answer -- no surprise there -- but does nod in response, sitting down opposite her and digging in without much hesitation.

Saki doesn't touch her food, turning the spoon over in her hand.

"--thanks." She gets a brief pause in response, so she goes on, "For saving me back then." But still no answer, not even a nod or a glance, and so she eats, trying to drown out the way her words echo blankly in her head. Maybe it was no use after all. Distrust only brought on more distrust, and she'd distrusted him. It made sense.

It's largely silent, until Kazama sets down his spoon with a quiet clank of metal on wood, fingers resting on the table.

"Shinjo-san left you in my care." Quiet. Steady. Saki looks up, and realizes that he's looking away from her. "He instructed me to teach you." Of course. Shinjo had told her to learn from him. But he goes on. "Teaching you to kill is not something I enjoy."

Narrow fingers cast dim shadows on the table when he entwines his fingers, taking in a breath, as if it hurts to talk, but he needs to say this:

"But I will not let you get hurt."

Immediately, he gets up, as if burned -- probably unused to saying such things -- places his dish in the sink and starts to retreat back to his room, until Saki gets up from her seat.

"--Kazama-san."

He stops, turns to look at her with stiff movements.

"My shooting. Is it better now?"

And it's like he almost, almost smiles.

"You're doing well."

He vanishes into the room, leaving behind only a small click, and Saki lets out a sight of relief, sitting back in her chair. Learn to trust people, Imakire had said. Easier said than done.

Suddenly, the door to the bathroom opens and Imakire peeks out, looking around for a moment before spotting Saki, who starts and backs off on instinct, and he just laughs.

"See? Told you he's nice."

"--you heard that?"

"I was in the shower, but I caught those last few lines. I couldn't just come out and ruin the moment, could I?" There's a teasing smile on his face as he steps out, towel around his waist, another slung around his neck. "But I was right, wasn't I?"

"I guess."

"And you're doing better, too."

"--excuse me?"

"Nah, s'nothing." Imakire laughs again. "--but I'm kinda disappointed he didn't make any extra for me."

--

The next day, Saki comes downstairs after a good round of practice -- eight out of ten targets -- and finds Kazama sitting on the couch, Imakire redoing the bandages on his back. Saki catches a brief glimpse of the wound -- still raw and red and somewhat painful looking, but it seems to be healing.

"Oh my, Sakurai-san," Imakire grins. "This must be a strange scene to walk in on."

"Not really."

"Oh yeah -- I got a call from Shinjo-san, was just telling Kazama-kun about it. He says you can head back now."

"Head back?"

"Yeah. Wants you at the Dawn headquarters." And, as if reading the way that Kazama stiffens a bit, adds, "Both of you, 'course."

"Alright."

"Okay, Kazama-kun?"

A stoic nod, then he straightens up, rolling a shoulder experimentally to test the bandages wound about his chest -- stiff, a little painful, but mostly fine.

Saki sits down on one of the chair opposite the couch, setting down her rifle on the floor -- she'd given it a thorough cleaning before coming downstairs, and it gleamed proudly in the light of the room.

"When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow morning. He said he'll be expecting you guys by evening, so you should be fine if you start off just a bit before noon."

"Alright."

"Okay then!" Imakire stands up, stretching his arms and popping his joints and startling both of them. "I'll make dinner tonight! A going-away party or something! Since starting tomorrow I'll be all lonely again. Come visit me or something, 'kay?"

"Don't you have to watch over the store?"

"Nah, screw the store, no one comes around this late anyway."

Saki looks at Kazama, who shrugs, then looks up at Imakire, who laughs.

"C'mon, we can take a night off!"

--

Saki wakes up that morning and finds herself lying on the couch with a blanket laid over her. It takes a moment for her to gather her thoughts, and when she sits up, she sees Kazama sleeping on the floor at the foot of the couch.

"Morning, Sakurai-san. It's still sort of early." The voice almost startles her, but not quite -- Imakire saunters out of the kitchen, a mug in each hand. "Coffee?"

"Uh, yes please."

"I added cream and sugar, is that okay?"

"That's fine."

Taking the mug, she takes a few sips -- it's sweeter and lighter than she's had it before -- then watches as Imakire leans down and lays a hand on Kazama's shoulder. He opens his eyes and rolls upright immediately, wincing a bit when his back cracks.

"Good morning, Kazama-kun."

A nod, and a quiet grunt.

"Coffee?"

Another nod.

"Here you go." He takes the mug without any response, and Saki looks away, setting her half-empty cup on the tiny coffee table and getting off the sofa.

"What's wrong?"

"Ah, no -- just getting ready."

"Alright." As she makes her way towards the staircase, she sees Kazama drain his cup and stand, stretching his limbs silently and turning to address something Imakire says. And she notes, with relief, that his movements don't seem too stiff.

By the time she comes back with her clothes in a duffel bag, Kazama is standing at the doorway, a pack slung over his shoulder, nodding in response to something Imakire says. He looks oddly light without his rifle -- his rifle was in its guitar case in the car, hidden away in an alley and covered up.

"--and take good care of her, 'kay, Kazama-kun?"

A quiet nod in response, of course.

"Ready, Sakurai-san?"

Both of them look over at her, and Saki nods, shouldering her bag and walking over. Kazama opens the door and waits while Saki laces her combat boots and gets up. Imakire stands just behind them, hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall.

Saki stands up, and Kazama's out the door in and instant, pausing only to give Imakire a half-bow. And Saki's just about to follow when Imakire calls her,

"Sakurai-kun."

She pauses.

"Yes?"

"Be careful." He's still grinning, and Saki realizes that for the past few days, she hasn't felt as nervous, as uneasy, as tense as she always did. He goes on, "And take care of Kazama-kun. He'll protect you. But he's kind of like a dog. Take care of him took, okay?"

This request takes her aback, and she pauses before nodding.

"--alright."

"Okay, then!" He grabs her hand and gives it a firm shake, then a thump on the back. "Tell Shinjo-san I said hi!"

Stepping out the door, she sees the beat-up car waiting in the alley, motor gunning, with Kazama at the steering wheel, and she drops her luggage in the back seat before climbing in.

The car gives a quiet grumble, then starts up -- makes a turn around the block before riding onto the main road and heading towards an intersection far up ahead. Kazama drives quietly, eyes focused ahead and one hand on the gear-shift, while Saki sits and looks out the window at the scenery scrolling by.

They drive in silence, and outside, trees and buildings and street signs whip by -- Saki watches them all blur into one meaningless gray shape, then closes her eyes.