Subject: [FFML] [SM/Terminator]Purification Day 6
From: Miashara
Date: 9/3/2001, 9:47 PM
To: ffml@anifics.com


Eclipse of the Moon 2: Purification Day
Chapter 6

All rights belong to Naoko, who is not me, and some Hollywood studio, who is also not me. 

My email is at this point so screwed up I have no idea who has or has not recieved this. C&C requested.

http://members.bellatlantic.net/~vze2qdyg/
Spiffy new site.




-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
-- File: eotm26.txt

	Breathing deeply, Chiba Mamoru closed the door behind 
him and leaned against it. With a mental sigh, he 
gratefully thanked what powers govern such things that it 
was over. Of course, he knew, there were no other choices. 
Usagi, Rei, or Ami certainly couldn't give their problem a 
place to stay. What would they say to their parents? 

	"Hi Mom, this is my friend Cyanide, never mind he's 
ten years older than me and hallucinating wildly, who's 
currently homeless and needs a place to come down. No, 
don't mind the guns and explosives, it's okay," he mouthed 
aloud, reiterating the recently concluded conversation. Of 
course the girls didn't realize exactly what the gunman's 
problem was, he added silently, and there was no way he was 
going to tell them. That was someone else's affair to deal 
with. Someone else who was currently on Mamoru's bed. He 
also doubted, in spite of their protests, that they'd feel 
comfortable under the same roof as the fallen fighter. "And 
both Makoto and Minako looked like they would feel far too 
comfortable with it." 

	"What was that, dear?" Usagi's voice came in from the 
kitchen, out of his line of sight.

	"Just thinking about what's going on," he responded. 
Mamoru took the time to smooth his oxford shirt. It had 
been rumpled and folded when he had carried Cyanide down 
from the roof. In the struggles, as he had been apparently 
mistaken for a six headed monster, he'd also come to 
possession of a black eye and multiple bruises. Those were 
fading though, the magic regeneration of his alter ego 
pervaded his body and by tomorrow he doubted any marks 
would remain. Still, he took a few deep breaths and 
strengthened his self control.

	His solid leather soled shoes tapped lightly on the 
kitchen tile as he walked up behind his girlfriend. She 
looked up, setting the box of chocolate crackers aside for 
a moment. Mamoru still had most of his suit on, pants that 
had been perfectly pressed, black patent leather belt, and 
a crisp, lightly starched white shirt. The jacket and vest 
had been discarded when they had arrived. While you could 
still see the knife edge creases, ironed just the day 
before, the ensuing activities had left him looking 
disheveled. Usagi was immensely turned on. 

	"So, what did you do today?" she asked as she slid 
over and wrapped and arm around him. He did not react 
immediately. The tension in his muscles was easily felt by 
the short blonde who held him. Usagi could feel them under 
his skin, moving as he did, bunching and softening. She 
pressed herself farther against him, letting his heartbeat 
pound in her ears. It sounded wonderful. 

	"I spoke with Mr. Ikiwara." Mr. Ikiwara was Mamoru's 
advisor at the university where he was finishing his 
teaching degree. "It went well. I'm going to have to take 
those four more hours of math, I told you I thought I could 
avoid that, but I should still be done by spring. I told 
him I was going to start looking for a job as a substitute 
to get a little practice and experience on the other side 
of the classroom, and he said he might be able to find 
something for me." He gave Usagi a quick hug before lightly 
extracting himself from her grip. His hands began throwing 
a meal together, working quickly with the experience of one 
of the few bachelors who could cook.

	"That's great!" gushed Usagi. She was so proud she 
felt sure she would burst. 

	"Thanks. I'm pretty happy. It was a very long day, I 
also had a couple of tests in math and that 'Computers in 
the Classroom' one. I can't wait to eat this and go to 
sleep."

	Usagi, seeing Mamoru had paused while waiting for a 
heating element to warm up, reattached herself to him. For 
his part, he just wrapped his arms above hers, leaning 
backwards into her. They stood like that for a while, 
moving as little as possible while Mamoru continued to 
cook. 

	"Can I ask you a question?"

	"Anything, Meatball Head." Usagi drove her forehead 
into his back in retaliation of his using that nickname, 
but her curiosity forced her to continue to ask anyway.

	"What's wrong with Cyanide? I know you recognized 
something when we showed up; I could read it in your eyes."

	Mamoru was silent as he removed the rice, vegetables, 
and fish from their respective dishes and served two 
plates. One he handed to his girlfriend, forcing her to 
relinquish her grip on his back, and the other he carried 
to the dinning room himself. Once there, utensils were 
already laid out, he sat and began to eat, deep in thought. 

	"Well!?" the blonde demanded.

	"I recognized the condition from someone I used to 
know in school. A good friend of mine was in a similar 
state frequently. We lost contact shortly after the 
situation developed. Our lives went in separate 
directions."

	"That's no good. You should always keep your friends."

	Mamoru opted not to respond. A hundred possibilities 
warred within his head and were discarded. 

	"Where is he now?"

	"Who?"

	"Your friend?"

	Mamoru was silent for a long moment. All his instincts 
were screaming for him to lie, but he couldn't do that, not 
to her. "He died not long ago."

	"Oh, that's horrible," Usagi drew back and pondered 
her food in silence. "Was it connected to whatever problem 
he and Cyanide shared?"

	"Something similar." 

	When he didn't go any further than that and focused 
his mind on his food, Usagi let it slide for the time 
being. She did ask one more thing, "Any chance of that 
happening to Cyanide?"

	Again Mamoru was silent. He finished his meal, 
collected his and Usagi's empty plates, and carried them to 
the kitchen. She rose and followed him to the kitchen, 
pressing for an answer when he had finished cleaning up. "I 
don't know. That depends on him and what he decides. It can 
be cured, but we can't do anything about it."

	"Oh."

***

	The sun came through the open window and roused Mamoru 
much more enjoyably then his alarm ever did. It was 
Thursday, and since he didn't need to be anywhere till two 
in the afternoon, he usually relished in the light. Not 
today though, he had matters to take care of. He sat up on 
his sleeper sofa and rubbed his eyes.

	"Hey. There's some food in the kitchen, I ordered 
delivery." 

	"Thank you." Mamoru rose, dressed, and returned in 
about five minutes. There was a full bento on the counter, 
warm and waiting. He helped himself to it, noting a similar 
one empty in the trash. He ate in silence as his guest 
availed himself of the shower.

	After he was finished, he waited by the door. A quick 
glance into his room showed an effort had been made to 
remake the bed, but it was shoddily done and would need to 
be corrected. When Cyanide did emerge from the shower, 
still dressed entirely in black, Mamoru made eye contact 
and indicated an open chair. It wasn't a question.

	"Look, about last night, I-"

	"Were out of your mind on drugs, nearly got Usagi, her 
friends, and yourself killed, kicked me twice in the face, 
and almost trashed my room before coming down? Yes, as a 
matter of fact you were and did. Don't worry about 
apologizing, I know you either don't remember it, or your 
memories are much different from mine."

	"Ey! I not going to take this kind of shit-"

	"No, you're probably not. You're going to continue all 
those things you're on and prove once again you're the most 
important person in the world."

	"Fuck you."
	
	"Oh, brilliant rebuttal. Shall I go to the kitchen and 
look around? I might be able to find some glue for you to 
sniff. Or perhaps you'd just like to pound your face on the 
door a few times? Sure it'll hurt, but you might get dizzy. 
Isn't that a high? Or better yet, hold your breath till you 
pass out. I hear oxygen deprivation can be quite 
intoxicating."

	"I didn't do any fucking 'cid last nigh, okay!? I 
haven't done that shit in years. It was a damn flashback; I 
can't control them."

	Mamoru was silent again, his face expressionless. For 
several long moments, they regarded each other thus.

	"I believe you," he said finally.

	"Oh, yay. My heart leaps for joy."

	"It doesn't have to be this way. The past doesn't have 
to keep coming back to haunt you."

	"Does with 'cid," was the answer after long moments of 
sullen silence.

	"Cyanide, there's always a way if you look."

	"Well, guess what. I'm not you, and I hardly think I 
qualify as a champion of justice. Keep your fucking pity." 
He rose and stalked towards the door deliberately. Mamoru 
got to it first and held it shut.

	"Listen. You need to choose. You know the paths. You 
know the costs."

	"Would you just shut up and let me go? It ain't my 
bitch."

	"Oh, well that makes it all better. You haven't done 
LSD in years. And you're right, we can't blame you for a 
flashback. It's not under your control. The next time, when 
someone dies because you're too messed up to do anything, 
or perhaps you'll be so wasted someone gets hurt or killed 
trying to save you, we'll all know that it wasn't your 
fault. Absolutely wonderful."

	"Fuck you, all right? Just fuck you. I don't have to 
take this shit."

	"You run away. Great way of solving your problems."

	"Goddammit!" Cyanide reached out, grabbed Mamoru by 
the shirt, and slammed him into a wall. Mamoru wrapped his 
own hands around those holding him, and they had a 
momentary contest of strength. Mamoru won, and Cyanide was 
pushed back. Not finished yet, he forced the darkly clad 
man to make eye contact.

	"Listen to me. I will not let my love or any of her 
friends die because of you. I will not let you ruin her 
life. I will not let you hurt her. You must make the 
choice."

	Cyanide glared at him. His angry eyes met Mamoru's 
resolute ones, and they were locked in a battle of wills. 
Finally, Cyanide turned and walked out the door, giving  
the reversed victory sign as he went. Mamoru watched as the 
door slammed and shook his head. 

	"Asshole," Cyanide muttered outside as he walked down 
the steps. It was an exterior staircase, set into the wall 
to protect against the elements but not walled off. He went 
down the stairs quickly, too furious to stand patiently in 
the elevator.

	"He's right, you know."

	"Eat shit, Pyrite. Or shall you and I have it out 
right here and now? You know as well as I we both want 
too."

	"Oh, no. I'm a good guy now, remember? I'm protecting 
the heroines of love and justice."

	"What do you want?"

	"To talk, actually. Just talk." Pyrite flipt down from 
the ceiling where he had been sitting and landed. His 
pants, cut in an extremely loose Arabian style, hung from 
his leather belt and were bunched in his boots. He had his 
usual blue silk vest on, open in front showing the ripped 
definition of his muscles. He faced Cyanide and smiled. 
"I'm curious. Back on Nemesis, you hated the Senshi just as 
much as I did. What changed you to their loyal guard dog?"

	"My business. Go away." Cyanide continued to make his 
way down the stairs. His trench coat billowed about him, 
moving in the wind of his agitated speed.

	"You actually think you can change, can't you?"

	There was no response.

	"You actually think that just because you want to be a 
good guy now, you are? I didn't believe it 'til now. I 
don't know whether that's hysterically funny or 
pathetically sad. Both, I guess."

	"Go to hell."

	Pyrite laughed, a hollow and mocking laugh. He 
continued to float, reclining in the air, a little behind 
Cyanide as they kept moving. "Shall we continue this later? 
You look a little stressed out right now, and I bet you're 
just dying for your next hit. I could come back when you're 
high."

	If they hadn't have at that moment finished the stairs 
and gone onto a populated street, Cyanide probably would 
have tried to shoot him. As it was, he ground his teeth 
together and clenched his fist. Next to him, Pyrite landed 
on his feet and effortlessly matched strides.

	"Cyanide, one time assassin and hired thug on Nemesis, 
Crystal Tokyo exile, and generally, how would you put it, 
worthless pile of shit, is now the brave and converted hero 
for good and evil. I swear I've now seen everything. Shall 
we go to church and confess our sins? That could take you a 
few days."

	"Pyrite, I'm about to ignore all these people around 
us and kill you. Shut the fuck up."

	"Would that be in keeping with our new personae? 
Cyanide, repentant warrior for good, doesn't seem to me 
like the type who'd stoop to violence just because someone 
said a few things he didn't want to hear. Especially when 
they're all true."

	Cyanide's backhand was casually avoided, and Pyrite 
hopped back a few feet. His face took on a shocked cast, 
mouth opening in mocking fear. His eyes were wide, and he 
cringed as if scared. Then he laughed again.

	"Ooooh." he covered his lips with his fingers. "The 
Senshi's lapdog tries to bite. I'm scared already."

	"All right! Fine! Let's cut the bullshit, Pyrite, and 
face facts. I know just as well as you that all this 
redemption shit the Senshi seem to like so much is just 
that, shit, for guys like you and me. We don't have a 
chance and probably wouldn't take it if it was offered. I 
know it; you know it. I don't even fucking care any more. 
So I'm not going to be saved and become a good person. So 
it's not even a fucking issue. So fuck you, and fuck Tuxy, 
and fuck all the rest of it. Go to hell. If I see you 
again, I'll kill you. Consider it my latest contract." He 
stormed into a nearby alley, seething and muttering. Once 
off the street, his clothing made him surprisingly hard to 
see for it being almost noon, and he disappeared to 
Pyrite's eyes.

	Pyrite laughed once more and walked away. "I love 
being me," were the last words he said as he stepped 
through reality and was gone.


***

	With a smile and wave, Makoto bid farewell to Mr. 
Mitoru. He smiled faintly in return and waved back. As he 
pulled away, the tall brunette watched until he was out of 
sight, still smiling as she held Katsuhiro in one arm. 
Katsuhiro, intent on eating any of the long, brown hair he 
could get to his mouth, completely ignored his father's 
departure. Baby and baby sitter waited for a minute before 
they went back inside, baby sitter trying to remove the 
slobbering five-month-old from her tresses.

	"So, what do you want to do today, huh?" Makoto asked 
the small ball of sticky infant happiness. Katsuhiro was a 
great kid, in her opinion. He almost never cried, never 
tried to sneak away, and was just so incredibly cute. She 
felt that his insatiable desire to put everything within 
arms reach in his mouth, no matter the origins, could be 
over looked. And he was just so darn cute!

	Katsuhiro, hearing himself addressed, looked up, 
smiled so widely it looked like his face would fall in 
half, and drooled. On tiny pink corner of tongue rested on 
his lip, not quite able to find its way back inside the 
mouth. His impish little eyes peered around, never stopping 
on anything in particular. 

	Giggling in spite of herself, Makoto reached down and 
began to tickle her innocent charge. Instantly the victim 
reverted quivering and burbling, laughing as he let saliva 
splatter around the carpet. Thus they passed several hours.

	It had been early evening last night when Makoto, 
tired and hungry, had returned to her house. She was not 
really looking forward to cooking, much as she loved it, 
and vague thoughts of reheated meals danced through her 
head. As she had climbed the steps, shoulders slouched with 
the weight of her day, Mr. Mitoru had approached her. 

	The Mitoru's lived about half a block away, and Makoto 
never could quite seem to remember when or where she met 
them. She'd known them for over a year, though, and when he 
had apologetically asked if she could watch his son for the 
day tomorrow, of course the answer had been yes. While 
Makoto would have been willing to do it just as a favor, 
Mr. Mitoru had insisted on paying her. Thus, with a little 
extra money and a wonderful day ahead of her, Makoto had a 
much easier time of that evening. It would be a wonderful 
Sunday. 

	Now, as she watched over the young one, she smiled. 
Katsuhiro had found the wonders that were spoons, and was 
busily attempting to insert the spoon, sideways, into his 
nose. It was a messy business, but it did allow Makoto time 
to just sit back and relax. As she allowed herself to drift 
into a day dream of her future family, the phone rang. 

	"Hello?"

	"Makoto! Hi!" Usagi's perky voice came through. 
"Listen, Rei, Ami, and I were just about to go shopping. 
Minako's at the doctor. You wanna come?"

	"Oh, I'd like to, but I'm watching Katsuhiro."

	"Katsi? Oh wait! Isn't that Ryan's little brother, 
Aaaaammmii?" She heard the singsong question through the 
phone and laughed. "Can we stop by and see him?" The level 
of ecstatic hopefulness in Usagi's voice was well nigh 
unbelievable. Makoto laughed to herself as another Usagi 
scheme no doubt started.

	"Sure. When?" 

	"'Bout an hour?"

	"All right. I'll see if I can whip something up in the 
meantime." Makoto frowned slightly, contemplating what in 
her kitchen could be made easily while still watching her 
charge. 

"Yay! We'll be over then! Bye."

	"Bye." The phone clicked. "Well, let me see. I guess I 
could make those octopus balls." A distant subdued 
shattering noise echoed through the house. Two seconds 
later, the sounds of someone tumbling down the stairs 
reached her ears. "Hello, Cyanide. Get lost looking for the 
door?" she asked without looking away from her cabinet.

	"Thrice blasted, worthless piece of-"

	"I agree completely. Why exactly are you breaking into 
my house?" 

	"You know there's an intruder in here?"

	"Oh really?"

	"I saw him from the street. Crawling through the 
living room. I lost track of him coming in."

	"He should be in the crib to your left."

	Cyanide turned and looked. Katsuhiro, sitting in the 
middle of the yellow and blue crib, ignored him. Silence 
passed. 

	"It's disgusting."

	"You would say that," she replied. "And please put 
that away. I promise you that if he tries anything, I'll 
protect you." Two fingers pushed the Glock away from the 
infant. She smiled, patted him on his suspicious little 
head, and turned back to the kitchen. Katsuhiro quietly 
burbled on.

	"Uh, about the window then-"

	"There's another one in an upstairs closet. Don't 
worry." She winked at him and smiled. 

	"Oh. Right." He looked back with suspicion. This 
caused Makoto to start openly laughing.

	With dazzling speed, Makoto began her labor. She 
whistled as she worked and as food slowly became 
recognizable in pans, the man in black sat across from her. 
Neither suggested he help. 

	Several trays of light eatables were made and 
refrigerated in short order. Cyanide mentioned something 
about going out and seeing what was to be found where, but 
Makoto asked he stay instead. She insisted that it was time 
they sat down and planned out their course. Accepting, he 
sat on the back deck and smoked.

	"Oooh. That's the muffin timer.  Cyanide, take the 
baby," Makoto grumped worriedly. It was almost time for her 
friends to arrive, and everything was just about ready. 
Needing both her hands and attention, she passed the 
smiling bundle of joy to the startled man and rushed off to 
the kitchen. Cyanide looked down at the baby. The baby 
drooled. They regarded each other for a moment of dead 
seriousness.

	The baby began screaming immediately afterwards. Deep, 
agonized bellows of torment burst free of the small child's 
lips, rending the air. Tears poured down the distorted red 
face, mixing with the spittum around the mouth and gave the 
skin a garish, waxed visage. Cyanide reacted as any battle 
trained veteran would.

	"Shit! What? An I pinching the little bugger 
somewhere?" Cyanide lifted the screaming bundle away from 
himself and examined both it and his chest. As he held the 
child by the armpits, he snorted with disgust at his soiled 
shirt.

	"What's wrong?" Makoto instantly came back around the 
corner and took in the scene. Cyanide's nonplussed grimace 
and the screaming baby were plenty. "Go in the other room 
and play with him. He's got some toys." Makoto waved 
dismissively and returned to food preparation. Still 
holding the child as far from himself as possible, Cyanide 
went.

	Makoto listened as she pulled muffins from the stove. 
She heard the man pleading for the baby to be silent, 
several toys bounce off someone's head, and more muted 
obscenity.

	"Don't swear at the baby!"

	"Fuck."

	"Hey!"

	"Dammmaargh! Fine. All right, here. Play with this."

	Makoto placed the pan on the counter. Vaguely she 
heard several thuds and what was probably profane 
mumblings, but no more crying. She glanced around the 
corner. Katsuhiro was slobbering on something she could not 
see, while his watcher tried to rub baby spit out of his 
shirt with a tissue. She giggled and went back.

	Just finished removing the muffins from the pan, she 
was frosting them when the doorbell rang. Shucking her 
gloves, she darted over and opened it.

	The sun poured down its radiance on two brunettes and 
a blonde, setting their hair to glowing. Usagi was dressed 
in a red blouse and skirt combo with fitting shoes. Rei was 
wearing a similar ensemble, and they matched. Ami, adorned 
in blue and white, stood out by contrast in what would have 
otherwise been a subdued outfit. They smiled at Makoto and 
greetings were exchanged.

	"Come on in. Katsuhiro's in the other room with 
Cyanide. They're not getting along very well, but he's 
quieted down now."

	"No I'm not. You shouldn't open the door without 
checking it. Could be someone trying to kill you."

	"It's not. Cyanide, where's the baby?" Makoto allowed 
a hint of long suffering to enter her voice.

	"Oh, he's in the other room. He finally shut up, so I 
didn't want to disturb him."

	Sighing deeply and thinking dark thoughts about men 
who couldn't handle children, the tall girl went back into 
the house. Cyanide turned and motioned for the others to 
come in.

	Makoto listened for the sounds of baby babble and 
found her charge behind a sofa. Katsuhiro looked up, 
smiled, and waved a Colt Forty Five. He then went back to 
sucking on the barrel.

	Makoto's piercing scream was almost deafening.

	"What were you thinking!?" Once she had regained 
coherence and removed the pistol from the small one's 
grasp, she accosted he who had given the weapon to the 
child. Fortunately, Ami had the presence of mind to shut 
the door before Makoto started waving the gun around.

	"He liked it more than the Berreta." He plucked it 
from her hand.

	"You do not let small children play with guns!" Rei 
was shocked.

	"Hey, I took the bullets out first."

	One long and very thorough verbal chastisement later, 
most everyone was sitting in the living room. Makoto and 
Rei shared a couch, while Usagi and Ami each had their own 
chairs. The table between them held what tender morsels 
Makoto had finished but Usagi hadn't, and Katsuhiro was in 
Usagi's arms. He was as quiet as he always was she held 
him. Cyanide was in the kitchen.

	"How long are you watching Katsuhiro, Makoto?" Ami 
asked. She had crossed her legs and sat in front of a large 
bay window. Two titanic cloud formations collided behind 
her, and the small square of them peacefully rolling over 
each other that shown through the panes was laced with 
rainbows. 
	
	"Only about another hour. When they get home Mr. 
Mitoru is going to call," Makoto answered. The small child 
had braced his chin between her knees with his chest on her 
lap. He appeared to be either trying to swim off her legs, 
or simply flutter kicking her for fun. Struggling to 
prevent him from rolling while deflecting those wild kicks 
that approached her face, she manipulated the baby without 
looking down.

	"Don't worry, Ami. I'm sure we can think of some 
excuse to get Ryan to come down here and pick up his 
brother." Usagi was stuffing her face with clockwork 
precision. Every bite got exactly one point three chews 
while the next was inserted, and she swallowed just in time 
for her hands to deposit more into her bottomless pit of a 
mouth.

	"Look, I hate to break up perfectly good girl talk, 
but would you mind discussing any of the things that're 
trying to kill us for a moment? You know? We've got three 
of them." A very grumpy voice came through from another 
room. 

	"Actually, Ryan'll probably come pick up Katsi anyway. 
Mr. Mitoru did say something about that when he left this 
morning," Makoto answered the blonde. "I don't know for 
sure though."

	Someone said something involving the word "shit" many 
times.

	"And if you're going to smoke, there is a sliding door 
behind you." Makoto lifted her voice and directed it over 
her shoulder. "Try not to make my house smell too bad."

	"Why I put up with this-" The rest was not 
intelligible. 

	The phone rang then, and it was Minako. She had needed 
a series of medical forms for school and having acquired 
them, she wanted to know where everyone was. After learning 
that, she said she herself would be over directly.

	After her arrival, the five girls began their 
plotting. They were alone with the infant, who they trusted 
not to pass along secrets, as their darkly clad pain in the 
posterior had "gone looking for someone who needs killing." 

	"Our main problem is, of course, that the two more 
dangerous adversaries are both effectively immune to our 
primary sorceretic abilities," Ami mused while nibbling the 
corner of a low fat cookie. Chick food. "Now, while its 
certainly possible that would could eliminate the first 
with simple blunt trauma on a large enough scale, the 
second seems to be lacking that vulnerability."

	"Huh?" Usagi replied.

	"We could drop an elevator on the one again but no 
ideas about the second," Rei translated.

	"In short," Ami smiled, abashed. "Of course, we do 
have a few cards to play. While neither of the machines 
seems impaired by our disguise magic, I can track them as 
well provided I can get close enough." She produced and 
powered up her computer. "I have roughly a half mile range 
on the first one, and twice that on the second." She began 
running her scanning program and observed the readout. For 
a moment she frowned, wheels within her head turning almost 
audibly. Then she turned very white.

	"What is it?" Minako asked. Trepidation was in her 
voice.

	"It's the big one. It's currently less than a block 
away, right outside Ryan's house."

	The room was empty in seconds. They took the baby.





	



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