Chapter 8

New Day

Nothing was more refreshing than waking up early the next morning to the excited chirping of birds. The color of the sky was a dim blue, like that of twilight. It was as if the world was slowly coming back to life, only this time, they could feel it in their bones. Although they awoke earlier than they normally do, they felt light and renewed in their body and mind. It was an interesting twist to Noir's routine, not hearing the drone of traffic, not being surrounded by the familiarity of building next to building.

Rhain dipped through the flap of her tent. "So, how will the newborn rise with the morning light?" she asked, yawning, stretching her arms over her head.

She trudged over to the campfire where Kirika and Tsuki had started breakfast. They hovered pans over the fire, in which bacon and eggs popped and steamed.

"Where's our morning beauty?" asked Rhain cheerfully, looking around.

Kirika smiled up at her, then her eyes pointed toward a curve of the lake. "Beauty walk," she said in equal jest.

"Why don't you join her?" offered Tsuki. "Rhain and I can take it from here."

"I just woke up!" barked Rhain.

"It'll help wake you up for sure, sis. Go ahead, Kirika."

Kirika smiled, unharmed by the immediate morning dispute. She stood up and left behind the sound of bickering, and took her time following Mireille's trail around the curve of the lake, making way under and over fallen trees, or carefully rounding around bulging rocks and jutting hills. She found herself panting to keep up with Mireille, who was visible anywhere on the lake as long as she clung to the shore. Kirika had never seen the blonde dare to trek such terrain so willingly, save for the occasional missions.

"Mireille!" called Kirika, finally catching a break as she bound across a pebbled shore. The Corsican dragged her bare feet through the fresh water, hugging herself in Tsuki's borrowed sweater. She stopped, but didn't look back at Kirika. When her friend stopped behind her, Mireille decided to look into the ebbing water.

"This was one of my favorite spots at the lake," said Mireille, smiling fondly. She sniffed in the misty air. "I figured to give it a visit before we left for home."

"True, it's our home," said Kirika, tracing Mireille's gaze. "But so is the lake. It doesn't have to be your last time coming here."

Mireille beamed. "True."

This spread Kirika's smile. She would savor that look on Mireille's face.

"What did you two do here?" asked Kirika innocently, trying so hard to see the lake through little Mireille's eyes.

"In my seven-year-old self's eyes, I always thought the minnows loved to gather at this spot. I was so convinced they were like me: little children finding a place they could gather to play, away from prying parent eyes. Uncle Claude often narrated whatever they'd be saying to each other, or what it was they were doing if separated from others."

Kirika crept closer to the clear water, watching the minnows hovering in the same spot, mouths speaking unheard words. She leaned against her knees, looking closer. She pointed at one fish prowling through some plants, away from the other minnows.

"This one's playing Hide-and-Go-Seek," narrated Kirika. "And these ones over here are talking about how to find him."

"No," said Mireille, leaning with her. "I think it just wants to be alone. As do we all." Kirika looked at Mireille as if she ruined the mood. The blonde chuckled softly, tucking her golden hair behind her ear. "I lost my sense of imagination, huh? Ok, well, how about he's conspiring how to jump them? Because they're actually bullies?"

"Oh look," said Kirika, pointing at another one floating up mindlessly next to the solitary minnow. "He has a friend. He's not alone."

Mireille looked sideways at Kirika. Then, there was a sudden burst of the tiniest bubbles as the two minnows broke the surface. They were gone before Noir could register what caused them to surface. As the water settled, they saw that all minnows had fled. They stared into their own reflections, a magenta sky behind them. A salamander wiggled by, as if swimming right across the sky.

"It really is like looking in a mirror," murmured Kirika. "But seeing so much more than what's reflected."

Mireille looked at their reflection, then straightened up. Kirika stood tall and joined her as they gazed at the lake. The sky was beginning to melt into a warmer blue, appearing as if it was merging with the lake and becoming one with it. For a moment, they could not tell sky and water apart. They wanted so bad to walk across the water, but dared not disturb a moment like this never to be witnessed again.

"It's the closest we'll ever get," said Mireille, head dipped back at the cotton-like clouds. She then looked back at the water. "Pretty cool, huh?"

Kirika nodded in contentment.

"What's all these papers?" asked Kirika, who had returned from a simple morning's grocery run. Paper scattered across the pool table, a mess that surpassed their days as assassins researching their targets.

Mireille was leaned back in her chair, arms behind her head. It wasn't the relaxed posture one would mistake from afar, but a confused and lost posture. She found herself watching the cat nestled on the windowsill, its tail twitching off edge. They had found the creature awaiting their return when Mila dropped them off at their apartment.

"I can't find them," said Mireille softly.

Kirika blurted, "Who?"

"Them."

Kirika's heart nearly jerked at the mention; she looked at the computer screen. Windows overlapped each other, with different pictures and descriptions. There were so many faces looking similar to Tsuki and Rhain.

"Their names are Tsuki and Rhain," said Kirika sternly with sacred purpose. She noticed Mireile's foot bobbing impatiently under the pool table. "No, they weren't even ex-Soldats. They were our friends. I'll never forget last night, sitting outside, away from the world, for once, next to two actual human beings."

Mireille straightened up in her chair and leaned forward toward the computer screen. "Those bastards," hissed Mireille. "Leaving us without a trace with no information."

Kirika narrowed her eyes at her partner. "Mireille. They don't want to be bothered. Just like how we want to be left alone, in peace."

"How cruel is that, though?" cursed Mireille, slamming her fist on the table. "I mean, you come along to help. You hint, and you hint, and you hint—even chat! Save our lives! Then, poof! You just leave. The torment!"

"Mireille," said Kirika. "Maybe they're trying to tell us something: we are no longer Noir! We don't have to hunt or fear of being hunted. We're not assassins, just us! So let's stop trying to figure out who they are, and enjoy the rest of our lives. Even if it's just the two of us, with no friends or family, even if it means being like an old married couple."

The French looked at Kirika, wide-eyed, halfway through throwing a crumbled paper ball across the room. She immediately lowered her hand, the paper ball falling to the floor. Mireille pondered some more before smiling.

"I shouldn't have expected any more from those two," chuckled Mireille.

Kirika fidgeted with something in her palm. She felt the markings of the Soldats pocketwatch with every inch of her skin. What a poisonous, yet familiar thing to leave there for them. Mila must have snuck it in during their recovery at Tsuki and Rhain's.

Kirika wanted to reassure Mireille about Tsuki and Rhain, but found her voice dry as she studied the pocketwatch: "I doubt that was our last time seeing them."

Mireille didn't say anything, unsure whether to agree or not, looking out the window.

Kirika walked over cautiously to Mireille the cat. It still had to get used to them, having had little time to familiarize with them before and after Varrichione's death. Alarmed, it looked up at Kirika, watching her hand as she slowly reached out to pet it. It embraced the gesture by pressing its forehead against her palm, begging for a pet down its spine. Kirika obliged, glancing out the opened window. It wasn't the same as Oakhaven Lake, but she learned to understand and accept impermanence no matter the setting—but to also look at the same things differently.

"I think I'm done expecting," said Kirika. "Let's just enjoy an early morning here in our home. Oh, and, are you in the mood for some tea?"

Mireille stared at her from her seat in front of the computer, then sighed. "I thought you weren't expecting anything," she said, standing up.

Kirika opened her mouth to protest and prove her wrong, but Mireille smiled, waving it off. "I've got it, I've got it. But you're buying a new plant for that table when we go out."

Kirika continued to pet the cat, looking out the window. The sweet sting of cinnamon tea filled her nostrils, the whisper of the Paris streets ringing in her ears, the calming touch of cat's fur under her fingertips.

It really was that simple.