Fandom: Kill Bill
Pairing: Go-Go Yubari/O-ren Ishii
A/N: Written for the 2004 Femslash Ficathon at Katja's request. The title is by Matthew Good.
Go Go Yubari licks her lips, leaving adrenaline where her tongue trails.
He is on the floor, bleeding his guts out for the world to see, for the world to detest. It's Go Go's private show, and the sword shines with red spatter. She walks closer to him and her boots step in the vermilion pool. She thinks idly that it's like walking in the rain; the drip, drip, drops of the puddles, her shoes soaking wet.
She revels in it.
She sniggers and tightens her grip on the sword. His eyes fill with fear and Go Go, she's filled with a new sort of feeling that bubbles up in her stomach. One last, quick stab into his stomach and his body stops moving. The feeling spreads from her stomach to the rest of her body, to her very fingertips. The palms of her hands are hot.
She pulls a lollipop out of her pocket, big and strawberry flavored. The wrapper shines a promising sparkly pink and she tears it apart in one quick, violent motion. She places the lollipop between her lips and throws the colorful plastic wrapper on the floor. It sinks into the blood.
Go Go cocks her head to look at his face. Such an ugly face, she thinks. His eyes are still half-open and his expression is deathly twisted, muscles still tight on his freshly dead features. His head rests on the dirty floor, his own blood sticking to his hair and his clothes. Such an ugly way to go.
It's Go Go's first kill and she's quite pleased with herself. She sucks on the candy, sweeter and a lot more delicious than she's used to. It sends the sugar buzzing through her veins, colorful like the wrapper and supercool inside her brain.
Soon, she'll learn to recognize this feeling as power.
She pulls the sword out of his body as if it's something she always does. The warmth slithers downward, licking and teasing like fire, like a tongue. She nearly moans.
Three years later, Go Go has mastered the use of the Samurai sword, the Tanto, the Tonfa, the Shuriken, and the simple kitchen knife. She still pronounces the words in a soft, childish tone, before choosing the one that would best suit her mood.
At the age of fifteen, Go Go likes to go out for a good killing. She assumes a sneer to go with her little girl killer attitude. She plays it to her advantage.
Power has taught her of sex, and now she wraps her legs around the boys before she leaves them to die. She likes to see them naked, blood drizzling red from the sides of their mouths, covering their filthy sex-filled saliva.
A dirty end for a dirty boy, she thinks to herself.
It's like all of the candies in the world at the tip of her tongue, gliding down her throat in a sweet rush. Fire-hot all throughout her body. It's like all of the cocks in the world, only better.
She knows what the boys say about her behind her back, and she's caught the looks strange men on the street have given her.
At fifteen, she readopts her old schoolgirl outfit. It makes her butt look hotter when she kicks someone in the jaw.
She maims anyone who comes too close within her personal space, and the sneer is natural on her lips.
Go Go ties with the famous O-Ren Ishii before being offered a job.
The famous O-Ren Ishii looks like a butterfly in her clean white kimono. She holds her sword firmly in her hands, a perfect X with Go Go's sword.
Go Go knows she would be a fool to refuse.
At sixteen, Go Go is a Tokyo Underworld superstar and loving it.
She's like the Malibu Barbie of crazy dangerous killers, or at least the honorary Skipper. She is a satsujinsha.
With age grew the insane glint in her eye. It now covers her entire eye, 24/7 shine of blood thirst that goes well with the city around her.
She's creative now, with an axe or just a simple lollipop stick, it doesn't matter to her. Her bare hands do the job when sharp or blunt objects aren't around.
Her bare hands do the job O-Ren Ishii needs done, in more ways than one.
She is sixteen years old now, and for her sixteenth birthday, O-Ren Ishii took her by the hand and traced the places power has defined before. A different sort of power spread between Go Go's legs then, more supercalifragilisticexpialidocious than before, better than boys, better than chocolate.
She bit her lips to stop the moans and felt twelve again.
O-Ren Ishii said Go Go's name in the soft, round American accent she still tries to avoid. Her fingers shot bubbles right into Go Go's stomach, like soda pop, and Go Go did her best to keep a straight face, eyes open at all times.
That was the first time.
O-Ren Ishii used to play Go Go's body like a video game, a Playstation even, until Go Go became patient enough to learn how to watch her, name the freckles on the part-American body she learns how to manipulate into surrender.
Go Go is amused by the look in O-Ren Ishii's eyes when she makes her come. She likes to roll the word on her tongue like strawberry bubblegum: o-r-g-a-s-m (she avoids ugly words such as s-t-a-t-u-t-o-r-y r-a-p-e or r-e-a-l-l-y r-e-a-l-l-y f-u-c-k-e-d u-p). And O-Ren is so delicate when she comes that Go Go knows she could kill her at that moment if ever she desired to.
O-Ren Ishii, without ever meaning to, has taught Go Go how to gain the upper hand. Go Go keeps this knowledge zealously to herself as the tips of her fingers fill with too many different kinds of heat to differentiate.
She still walks in people's blood, leaving a trail of blood drops behind her when she walks, like melted chocolate.
She always finds her way back.
Go Go Yubari sneers at the blonde girl one last time, catching a glimpse of her own reflection in the shiny, bloody silver of the blonde girl's sword.
She knows it's a fight she will win.
She goes at it with her eyes open.
O-Ren Ishii watches.