A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to kill, and a time to avoid being killed;
Neon Ecclesiastes 3:2 (Unified Standard Edition)
- - -
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Sakura whispered as she crushed Hitomi into the inner edge of the couch, her two trembling hands clutched tight against Hitomi's throat.
Her arms were pinned by Sakura's legs, her right pushed down and past a cushion, trapped, her left nearly useless for strength, but still, it slipped free of Sakura's right knee and came up, trying to slap Sakura away.
Hitomi couldn't scream, her mouth was full of some sort of cloth that Sakura had rapidly stuffed into her cheeks before the assault began. Hitomi batted again at Sakura's face with her bandaged left arm, her vision creeping with shifting black edges.
She was going to die.
Sakura was going to kill her: Hitomi was the "asset" being "denied" to Japan.
But Sakura's thumbs were poised above her larynx, not actually pushing down and inwards. She could crush her windpipe at any time, but hadn't. Hitomi could see the conflict written all over Sakura's face; wetness sliced along her cheek.
The older girl was crying and shaking, rocking forward and back unable to finish choking Hitomi to death, yet.
She hadn't let go.
Hitomi squirmed, desperately trying to work the cloth out of her mouth with her tongue, pushing and pushing, but Sakura let go of her throat with one hand and slapped it over her mouth, keeping it in place.
"Why? Why Hitomi? Why did it have to be YOU?" her friend hissed, the tears in her eyes streaming down quietly. It was such a quiet way to die. Gagged. Crushed. Asphyxiated.
She tried to say something but the cloth, now wet and filling her cheeks, made it impossible. Hitomi tried to scream again, but the sound was so muffled it would never be audible over the air conditioning system.
Why wasn't her power activating?
It was the power of Absolute Personal Defense, wasn't it?
"Stop, you're making this so hard, just, stop, sssshhh, please, stop, I didn't want to, but I can... it'll, it'll just be like going to sleep, please," Sakura begged Hitomi to stop struggling.
NO! You don't get to have it easy murdering me you traitorous backstabbing BITCH!
Hitomi's right arm made it free from Sakura's knee and she brought it up, grabbing a fistful of shoulder length hair, twisting and pulling as hard as she could.
Sakura gasped in pain, managing not to scream, as her neck bent a bit to the side, letting up more pressure from her weight. Hitomi shifted every which way, bucking and kicking with her legs, but without shoes on she was really just flailing beneath someone heavier by her by at least ten pounds on top of a cushioned surface. She just couldn't land any damage, and now she couldn't let go of Sakura's hair.
SLAP! Sakura had reared back the hand that had been held over her mouth, smacking Hitomi upside the cheek and sending her reeling.
But her deathgrip on Sakura's hair didn't budge.
SMACK! She took another slap. It didn't work. Sakura futilely tried to grab at Hitomi's wrist with her other hand, finally freeing Hitomi to reach around with her left arm and smash a palm over Sakura's right ear.
"Arghhh!" Sakura shot her body backwards but her face fell into Hitomi's chest thanks to the grip on her hair - had Hitomi popped her ear drum?
Her power was still NOT activating: this was all her!
She shook and tried to destabilize Sakura's weight, then let go of her hair, grappling her around the waist with both arms and rocking them off the couch onto the carpet.
THUD.
Now it was Hitomi who was on top, being hit by Sakura's fists while she tried to get the cloth out of her mouth. It was wadded up, but Sakura couldn't stop her now, no, Hitomi would get it out any second and - YES!
Sakura got a sudden surge of strength as she saw the last piece of wet cloth be ripped out of Hitomi's mouth as she sucked in a breath of air, just about to scream, and she closed her eyes, balling her fist, and slammed it into Hitomi's stomach as hard as she could.
"H-urrrrkkkkk," was the only sound Hitomi could make as she stared dumbly down at her midriff, where Sakura had just punched her so hard she thought she could see the air leaving her lungs.
Sakura seemed stunned that it worked, and that moment of surprise cost her, because Hitomi grabbed her retreating hand and pulled her forward onto her knee, cracking Sakura's nose like an eggshell.
Hitomi couldn't believe it, Sakura hadn't screamed! She took the damage with a heavy grunt, then jumped on top of Hitomi again, drizzling her face with the blood streaming from Sakura's nostrils.
Sakura had both her arms pinned with her hands, but her voice was coming back. She inhaled deeply again, trying to get out a yell, but her opponent tucked a knee into her stomach again and pressed upwards as hard as she could.
Hitomi almost vomited, it was so painful!
Her left arm was hopeless and she knew it, but her right arm struggled to escape Sakura's grip. Blood and sweat, mixed with the earlier tears, had fallen onto Hitomi's face and smeared down her neck and upper chest.
She was looking up into that golden locket that Sakura always wore, dangling right over her eyes, on that heavy looking chain.
It was getting hard to breathe again. Sakura's knee was keeping her chest from fully expanding.
"P-please," she wheezed, the first word she had been able to speak the entire time.
"Sa.. ku.. ra..." she tried again.
"I can't, I can't, they'll kill them all, I have to, I'm sorry, Hitomi, please, just stop, please make this easy," the other girl quietly pleaded.
"Liked... holding hands..." Hitomi said, unable to bring in enough air for anything loud, gasping, her stilted words, "Please... friend..." she mumbled. It was getting dark again around the edges of her vision.
Come on! You're going to die! Power! Work!
WORK!
But nothing happened: she was on her own.
A last ditch idea: she ceased all struggle with her right hand and kicked hard with her left leg, just barely, for the briefest moments, confusing Sakura who loosened her grip on her right hand just enough for Hitomi to rip it upwards and grab the locket as tightly as she could, pulling Sakura's face towards hers.
Smash. Their faces collided in pain, but Hitomi wasn't done. Sakura's knees were crushing her still.
She found Sakura's lips and kissed her as hard as she could.
All strength momentarily disappeared from Sakura's murderous attack. For an entire heartbeat, then two, Sakura, who tasted like blood, salt, and strawberry lipstick stopped what she was doing even as Hitomi twisted her wrist, tightening the chain around her neck.
She managed to roll Sakura over in that moment, smacking her head hard into the side of the coffee table's leg, dazing her completely.
Now Hitomi was on top, again, but this time had Sakura's necklace wound so tight it was acting like a garrote.
She could breathe!
"He- HELPPP!! HELPPP!!!!" she screamed.
Sakura's hands fell limp to her side, her eyes searching Hitomi's face, her ruined nose dribbling blood to the carpet. She was still conscious, but Hitomi had won just by being able to yell. Her entire body relaxed.
"I'm sorry... just, finish it, please," she said to Hitomi, looking away, her head turning to the side as the chain dug further into her skin.
Sakura's skin was turning purple, Hitomi realized.
"HELPPPPP!!!!!" she screamed again, and heard pounding feet down the hallway and yelling.
"Please... they'll... they'll..." Sakura pleaded again, unable to look at her.
The doors flew open and Hitomi jumped off of Sakura, pointing and yelling, "It's her! She's the leak! She tried to kill me! She -"
The soldiers rushed in, one immediately aiming a rifle towards her while the other two covered Sakura's trembling body, which was now curled up in the fetal position, her hair masking her face.
They ordered her down on her knees and she instantly obeyed, hands up in the air.
Suddenly the adrenaline high disappeared, and Hitomi took in the scene.
She hadn't killed Sakura.
Her power hadn't activated.
Why?
What did this mean?
- - -
Mr. Yamada stood next to Hitomi in the damp room in the basement. She had been tended to by Dr. Nagisa, and had a series of light bandages around her neck which was already showing the extensive bruising from Sakura's failed attack.
Sakura had confessed to everything, and Hitomi had been a witness, standing in the corner of the room.
She had demanded the right. Sakura had been her friend.
They had worked together, eaten together, slept in the same room, teased each other, survived together... hell, Hitomi had killed for her, she admired her, she looked up to her, she was confused by her, and in, some undefinable way, maybe wanted to see where their friendship might lead.
Ruined.
Because Sakura was a spy.
Oh, she was Japanese, alright. Genetically, at least.
Sakura's locket had contained a folded picture of her family. A family whose parents had been kidnapped by North Korean agents in their youth and forced to marry each other, raising children who looked Japanese but lived and breathed the Communist beliefs of the Dear Leader of North Korea.
She had been raised in a training city that mimicked life in Japan. Sakura had infiltrated Japan as a teenager, working her way up in the corporate world after graduating from Tokyo University to a prestigious position at a joint American/Japanese defense contractor thanks to numerous bribes handled by the North Korean state.
Her placement at the embassy had been a complete fluke, but before her cell phone had been seized during the communications blackout she had been receiving regular updates and orders, as well as reporting everything she could about events.
It was Sakura who had started the fire in the server room with a small piece of burning plastic that she had snatched up from the floor when she went in first, and then shoved into the back of a random server. Her only goal had been to plug in a small Raspberry Pi mini-computer she could use to hack the local network, which they found dangling behind one of the other servers, carefully placed so that no one would notice it.
The North Korean state had received the video footage of Hitomi's fight in Sheridan Circle, and, realizing that something didn't add up with the description that Sakura had given them, ordered her to kill Hitomi so Japan couldn't make use of her talents.
Oh, and that wasn't the first time Sakura had attacked: she admitted to poisoning Mr. Ueno's soup with her eye-drops. Tetrahydrozoline poisoning.
Hitomi had silently wept the entire time Sakura talked, explaining her actions in a monotone until she reached the part where she had attacked Hitomi, breaking down crying.
Why did she feel any regret about what she'd done to Hitomi? She'd felt nothing about poisoning Mr. Ueno.
She had been desperate, she claimed, because the military had told her nothing about the takeover, only that her family's lives depended on her immediate action.
Mr. Yamada had asked her why she had tried to strangle Hitomi after gagging her. There were far more efficient ways to kill, even silently, some that might have even afforded Sakura a better chance of making it out the front door of the embassy after the deed was done.
She didn't have an answer, just shaking her head, until she mumbled... "I just... I..." she looked up at Hitomi's tear-stained face, "Couldn't..."
Hitomi had turned around partly, tucking her head into her fist as she covered her mouth, trying not to... feel anything.
Mr. Yamada had nodded, and two soldiers came and lifted Sakura out of her chair with strong grips on her upper arms. Her hands were shackled together.
The door on the far end of the room, the one where the few people who failed the earlier interviews had gone, opened. Sakura was walked through into a dimly lit hallway, but at the last second, cried, "Hitomi! I'm..."
Hitomi tried not to look at her, but failed, and then, seeing the utterly terrified young woman, her friend, being taken away through the door... she just... sprang forward, shocking the soldiers as she wrapped Sakura in a hug from behind.
"I'm sorry, too."
She was peeled off by strong arms, and the door shut.
Hitomi stared at the door as Mr. Yamada walked up beside her.
"Where does it go, sir?"
He turned towards her, confused, then looked back at the door, realizing that Hitomi's imagination was running wild.
"Ah, no, Ms. Hisakaway, we don't have a torture chamber or anything of the sort. It leads to the underground parking garage. There's a street level exit beneath us. She's being placed on a military transport to a JSDF waystation where she'll be further interrogated."
Hitomi breathed out, thankful, "Oh."
"Now, Ms. Hisakawa, sit down, please."
She did.
"Tell me, Ms. Hisakaway, did you use your power during the fight with Ms. Tanaka?"
She gulped.