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1 Disclaimer: Noir belongs to Koichi Mashimo and Bee Train Studios. I am merely borrowing these characters for a non-profit fanwork.
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2
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3 Notes: Shoujo-ai/femslash ahead. If the thought of same-sex attraction repels you, stop reading. It's that simple. Please don't flame me -- I dislike dealing with fuckwits.
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4
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5 As I understand it, "s'abīmer" means "to be engulfed." It is also the name of the first "fragment" in Roland Barthes' A Lover's Discourse.
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6
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7 SPOILER WARNING for the end of the series.
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8
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9 Rating: PG
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10
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11 Feedback: I would love some, thank you.
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12
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13 ***********************
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14
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15 S'abīmer
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16 By Yasminm
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17
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18 the_jentayu@hotmail.com
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19
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20 It wasn't at all like drowning, Kirika decided.
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21
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22 She'd found the metaphor in a book, one of the countless many she read until she realized that there was such a thing as having tastes in the kind of books one reads. Mireille had always playfully mocked her lack of literary education, and she dutifully set out to correct the gap. There was plenty of time for her to indulge in books, now that she was no longer Soldats' assassin -- and she was vaguely aware that it was something normal people did.
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23
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24 So she tackled her new hobby with her usual intensity, puzzling over Kafka's weighty surrealism and the supposedly amusing human foibles in Austen's cool prose. She had finished most of Shakespeare's tragedies and was now working her way through his sonnets, cradling the heavy tome in her small hands as she sat by the windows of Mireille's apartment.
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25
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26 The book had been a gift. One morning, Mireille presented her with a gaily-wrapped package: the complete works of William Shakespeare. She was more than a little touched, then, almost hugging Mireille -- almost, before tactile reservations asserted themselves.
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27
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28 After reading yet another overwrought dramatization of the life of a dead English king, Kirika was beginning to wonder if the book was a gift that kept on laughing. Still, she persevered, because it wasn't in her nature to give up easily. Besides...
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29
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30 She traced the words lightly with the tips of her fingers, their shadows dark in the summer sunlight. Besides, it was a gift from Mireille. Even if it was a joke she didn't quite get.
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31
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32 A woman's face with Nature's own hand painted
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33 Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;
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34 A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
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35 With shifting change, as is false women's fashion;
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36 An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,
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37 Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
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38 A man in hue, all 'hues' in his controlling,
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39 Much steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
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40 And for a woman wert thou first created;
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41 Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,
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42 And by addition me of thee defeated,
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43 By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
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44 But since she prick'd thee out for women's pleasure,
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45 Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure.
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46
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47 Kirika snuck a peek at Mireille, who was scowling intently at a brand-new laptop. Her head was inclined slightly forward, so that the tips of her long blonde hair brushed against the faint scars near her elbow. Mireille's eyebrow twitched, and Kirika quickly averted her eyes. They were well-attuned to each other nearly from the beginning, but after the events at the Manor, there were times when the bond between them felt almost telepathic -- almost as if they moved with one mind, one body, one instinct.
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48
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49 She ducked her head guiltily, forcing her attention back to the book. No, it wasn't like drowning at all. There was no burning in her lungs when she looked at Mireille, signalling a slow death as they filled with water. There was no panicked struggling for oxygen, no fear that she would die alone in a cold and watery pit.
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50
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51 "Kirika?" Mireille was looking at her inquiringly, a merry gleam in her blue eyes. "Pack your sunscreen. We're going to Australia."
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52
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53 She nodded, closing her book with a discreet thump.
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54
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55 "There's a Soldats intelligence network there. If we can take it out, we'll cripple their information relay." Gunpowder and the adrenaline of a kill, eager ghosts in Mireille's smile. "A good beginning, don't you think?"
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56
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57 "One by one," Kirika said softly, leaving her seat by the window and moving into the shadowed interior of the apartment.
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58
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59 "Of course." Blonde hair swung, brushing against cherry-red lips. "You with me?"
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60
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61 Mireille once told her a wounded animal cared only for its own pain, blinded to another's. So would a drowning person, hyper-aware of his or her mortality, desperately clinging on to survival. It was, Kirika decided, not at all like the way she felt at Mireille's low laughter.
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62
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63 "Yes."
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64
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65 This felt like the last time Mireille pointed a gun towards her, honouring a promise broken in the end: a promise of death, annihilation. This was a promise of another death, of change and a new beginning. Whatever the outcome, nothing will ever be the same. Not for her, and not for Mireille.
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66
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67 There were times, in moments of unguarded looks and lingering touches, when she was almost certain -- almost certain Mireille too realised that the thread binding them together was not black but red.
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68
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69 Almost. Almost. Almost.
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70
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71 Kirika, who had begged Mireille to kill her without hesitation, found she could not quite make herself believe.
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72
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73 "Umm... Mireille?"
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74
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75 "Hmm?"
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76
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77 They knew each other so well.
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78
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79 "Nothing." Kirika's eyes flicked away, and down. "I'll tell you later."
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80
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81 And that was the end of that, she thought, but Mireille leaned back in her seat and said casually, "After you finish the book, then."
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82
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83 Kirika's head snapped up, in time to catch Mireille turning back to her laptop. Nothing in Mireille's expression gave away anything, but there was something... a warm promise in the tenor of her voice...
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84
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85 Maybe it wasn't only her own fear she had been feeling.
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86
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87 Kirika smiled, very slightly.
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88
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89 Maybe it was like drowning, after all.
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90
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91 -owari- |
