Full Metal Mutants: Betrayal

[x-sanfuaiyaa.livejournal.com]

Backdated to Sunday evening in Tokyo.

Shiro, Clarice, and Leyu go to Japan for Mariko Yashida's wedding to one Noburu Hideki. Is it paranoia if they really are out to get you?


"I look weird," Clarice pronounced as she tottered along on her geta, or Japanese wooden shoes. She felt certain that no matter how often she wore high heels, she'd never be able to walk in these. "And I'm going to break an ankle."

Shiro placed a hand on Clarice's elbow to steady her. "You look beautiful," he said half-heartedly, his attention focused mostly on the other guests milling about before the ceremony. He recognized many of them by face, but most of them by the crests they wore on their kimonos.

The Yakuza joining The Hand by marriage. No good could possibly come of this.

"Shiro, calm down. Nothing is going now," Clarice tried to reassure him, "Do you know how hard it is to get blood out of these clothes? They won't ruin thousands of dollars worth of clothing."

"They destroyed an entire block in Ginza," he muttered, eyeing the head of Harada's security warily. "Sorry if I am jumpy." He shook his head and turned to her, offering her a small smile. "You really do look nice."

"Ah, you're just happy I'm in a kimono," Clarice smiled back, pleased with the compliment. Formal kimono was not something that she ever thought she'd be wearing, ever. Especially not at it's proper function, "but seriously, today they won't do anything so relax. Tomorrow, you should worry."

"I wish I had the time to speak with Mariko." She was still preparing, and Harada was probably still with her. Tsurayaba wasn't here yet either, probably with Hideki helping him get ready. "I have not traded a single word with her in almost two years, and the next will not be until she is a Hideki, not a Yashida."

"...And I can't sneak you in, can I?" it was more of a statement than a question and Clarice nodded politely at an older man who stared at her as they walked past. Maybe Arabic wasn't the best choice for her high school foreign language, even if Japanese wasn't offered.

Shiro glared back at the man, who quickly averted his eyes. "It would be insulting. They would revoke our invitation," he said, snorting. "If I am to take this opportunity to mend my relationship with Harada and Onee-san, then I have to be extraordinarily careful."

The Japanese were weird with honor and relationships, Clarice had decided long ago and this was only enforcing that belief. However, she was not here to bash pell-mell through Japanese society, but to support Shiro with whatever he needed to do. It was tough. She wanted to do something to help him beyond simply exist. "So we'll be slippery like an eel," she remarked, wrinkling her nose. She hated eels. "Or maybe avoid the eel altogether," she amended as a waiter walked past with eel sashimi. EW.

Though Shiro's love of eel and really all foods aquatic was great, his stomach was too jittery for food. Leyu was just fine, though, and gratefully accepted some. "I bet Onee-san is going to look beautiful!" she said happily. "I can't wait to get married."

"Yes you can," Shiro found himself replying automatically. "Come, the ceremony is starting soon."

~*~

The wedding ceremony begins, but The Hand reveal their true intentions. Shiro and Clarice find themselves involved in a fight for their lives.


Shiro's knees were getting tired. The kannushi had been going on and on with his prayers and rituals for much longer than he believed to be absolutely necessary. It was as if the kami needed extra encouragement to bless this union.

The ceremony itself was small, maybe only about thirty people including the priest and priestesses. On Mariko's side were Keniuchio Harada, Shiro, Leyu, Clarice, Harada's three most trustful lieutenants and their families, and a few of Mariko's close friends. On Hideki Noburu's were his parents and close family, about a dozen men and women who had been introduced as "friends," and of course Tsurayaba Matsu'o. The animosity and mutual vile disgust between him and Harada were almost palpable.

Mariko and Noburu, on the other hand, treated each other with the respect and dignity befitting bride and groom. But even Shiro could tell that there was nothing beneath the facade.

Clarice carefully schooled her features to look happily blank as if she had no idea what was going on. Shiro, however, had explained things quite thoroughly and she was ready for anything. Just in case. You never knew if someone would spike the sake or something. And while the ceremonial swords that Shiro carried were not purely ceremonial, she was not taking any chances. She had managed to procure and subsequently hide four daggers inside her kimono. But she wasn't paranoid at all.

Even the happy couple looked like this was the last place they wanted to be. Never a good sign. And her ankles were beginning to hurt from sitting on the hard floors without shoes on. Bah. Stupid traditional Japanese weddings. This was really sucking.

To Harada's and Tsurayaba's credit, neither of them had their hands anywhere near their swords. Not that they needed them. They were two of the world's greatest martial artists; steel is just ceremonial. Shiro, though, was clenching his fists, forcing his hands to lay on his lap and not go for the hilt, despite its often comforting touch.

A red and white clad miko passed a small cup of sake to Hideki, who sipped from it and then offered it to Mariko. She took her sip and returned to cup to the miko. Shiro found himself exhaling deeply, as if he'd been expecting the wine to be poisoned.

Truth be told, he'd expected everything to be poisoned.

The ceremony continued with more prayers and offerings to the kami. As the kannushi finished, another miko brought a long silver dagger, carried on a white pillow, and offered it to Mariko. It seemed to glow under the soft light of the candles illuminating the shrine. She held it up, inspecting it carefully, and wiped it across the sleeve of her snow-white kimono. She looked up at her half-brother, eyes wide but betraying no emotion. And then her gaze shifted to Shiro. The first time she'd actually looked at him in twenty-one months.

A blood pact, Shiro realized, fighting to stay still. To seal the marriage and end the war between Yakuza and Hand. Mariko held out her right hand and sliced open her palm in one quick motion.

The blood that dripped off the blade and onto the small gold dish in front of her was black.

Say wha? Shiro had mentioned that there would probably be a blood pact or something similar to seal the marriage, but things were looking decidedly Not Right. Mariko's face made a little "oh" and then chaos broke loose so quickly, Clarice looked around to make sure there wasn't a demon invasion or something like that.

"What the fuck?" Clarice managed as she half ran, half stumbled with the other people towards the center of the room. Grabbing a hold of Shiro and Leyu's kimono, Clarice forced herself to stand still and carefully ported them outside the shrine. "What the flying fuck?" she managed, gesturing wildly and making sure Leyu was fine.

He knew it. He knew it he knew it he knew it. Betrayal. The knife was poisoned. How the hell did the knife get poisoned?

Shiro didn't even know how he got outside, or why his katana was unsheathed. He blinked, grounding himself back in reality as the screams from inside reached his ears. A dozen people were running from the shrine, including the priests. But most were still inside. Fighting. This war was far from over.

He had to get back in. Harada and his lieutenants made four against Tsurayaba's thirteen. "Clarice, get Leyu out of here," he ordered through gritted teeth.

"I am not leaving you," Clarice's tone brooked no argument. "And I can't 'port the X-Men back here...." she had skipped breakfast and was not up to large scale 'porting. Just sending Leyu back was going to be a lot of work. This is why she rarely skipped meals.

"That is not what I am telling you to do," he said, although the X-Men's presence would sure be welcome right about now. "She cannot be here. I will not be able to do anything if I have to worry about her safety."

"Nii-san . . ."

"Gomen, Leyu-chan . . ." Shiro knelt, placing a hand on his sister's shoulder. "~You have to leave. Don't worry about me or Clarice or Onee-san, okay?~"

Nodding, Clarice opened a disk and waited for Leyu to step through. Closing her eyes for a minute she recovered as much as she could before squaring her shoulders and pulling out a dagger from her obi, "So, Sunfire. Now what?"

She paused, looking down at her kimono. She was not about to destroy several thousand dollars of borrowed kimono for this fiasco. Shrugging, she began fumbling at the obi to get undressed. The obi was as bad as a corset, another torture device no longer worn.

"Harada is likely busy with Tsurayaba." Shiro bet that they had been waiting for an opportunity like this to finally confront each other one-on-one. "Takachiho, Akuno, and Akarui will have their hands full with The Hand." And as if for emphasis, two of Tsurayaba's were thrown through the wooden wall of the shrine, and a giant green dragon-man followed them out, roaring as he pounced on them. "That would be Takachiho."

Sheathing his sword, he quickly and easily helped Clarice out of her kimono. As he turned to head back to the shrine, he spotted, five figures running from the back entrance and into the woods beyond. "Mariko! Come on."

Tucking the under yukata up around her thighs Clarice felt exposed, but somewhat more prepared to move in a physical fight. If nothing else, she could run and she did, following closely on Shiro's heels as they trailed the quintet sneaking away.

Running was too slow. He stopped and picked up Clarice so he could fly. "You still look nice, by the way," Shiro said as they rocketed to intercept their targets. He fired a warning blast and landed behind them. Letting go of Clarice, he withdrew his sword again. "~Let her go,~" he demanded. Hideki Noburu just laughed as his three guards withdrew their swords.

"She's my wife now," he replied in perfect English, his hand grasped tightly around Mariko's wrist. She wasn't fighting back, Shiro noticed, and couldn't tell if she looked so pale because of the white make-up or the poison. "You've no claim to her, Yashida."

"Like Hell I don't."

"Maybe we should all jump back to the 21st century and let Mariko decide," Clarice spoke up from where she was standing menacingly next to Shiro. Two guys arguing over a girl like this was incredibly old-fashioned, although it was nice that it was in English. "What?" she muttered as they both looked at her as if they could not believe she'd spoken

A soft chuckle came from behind Hideki. "I like this girl," Mariko said softly, and then fell to her knees in a violent fit of coughing. Hideki growled, grasping even more tightly and pulling her back to her feet.

"You had better pray that she will recover," Shiro snarled. Not like they would respond to his threats, at least not yet. He sheathed his sword, grinning as Hideki's men almost visibly relaxed, as if they thought he was surrendering. Ha!

It was a beautiful day. Warm, little breeze, sun shining its red-golden rays as it set in the west. Shiro didn't need a full noon sun, though. Pulling in what energy he could, he fashioned it into a blast of solar flare to one of the men's faces, throwing him back against a tree and knocking him out. As soon as the fire left his hand, he was in the air again, engulfed in a cloak of bright gold fire, and charged Hideki.

Oh this was Not a Good Sign. Very Bad indeed. Snap out of it, Rainman, Clarice thought to herself as she crouched in a defensive position, lightly on the balls of her bare feet. She was going to make someone pay for this later with a (very expensive) pedicure. "Mariko!" she rushed forwards, ignoring Hideki's men entirely for the moment although she did not get far. "You bastards!" she snarled ala Cartman as she tried to duck around one preventing her from reaching her goal.

Opening a narrow teleport disk like she had been practicing, Clarice glared at the man, "Move and you get to live," she warned, brandishing the disk like a stick, "Stay and your family will find your pieces in Afghanistan."

"That is, provided you have not already murdered them," Shiro taunted as he aimed a flaming kick at Hideki. The ninja's free arm glowed white, so when he raised it to block the kick, the flames dissipated. Fucking ninja magic.

"How clever," Hideki drawled, raising the index and middle fingers of his left hand. He raised his hand to his face, and then drew a line down to this chest, focusing his magic to combust the air around Shiro. The explosion knocked him back, and before he could recover, Hideki cast another spell, summoning rocks from beneath the earth to the surface, launching Shiro forcefully into the air.

Dazed, he caught himself just as he fell back to the ground, just barely softening his landing. "Fuck you," he cursed breathlessly, strengthening his force field and charging once again, intent on releasing a barrage of assaults so Hideki would be kept too busy to try anything else. At the very least, he laid it on so thick that Hideki had to let go of Mariko and use both arms to fight back.

Clarice was completely bluffing, but she was hoping that between her bravado and Shiro's it might actually work. Or they could do something utterly brilliant, but right now it was seeming unlikely. To prove her point about her disks, she 'tossed' one towards a tree taking a sliver out of the center of it. "Get my point?" she asked, grinning viciously. "Now, let me through."

Cautiously, Clarice made her way to Mariko and let Shiro deal with his own problems. As she walked past, one of Hideki's goons slashed at her, the edge of the blade nicking her forehead as she ducked. "Bad move fucker," Clarice hissed as the blood began to drip down her forehead, "Very bad!" she opened a disk and before he could react, she had neatly sliced the hand holding the knife off just above the wrist.

The goons watched, shocked and Clarice tried not to throw up at her own actions. "Go fetch," she ordered, pointing back towards the now destroyed shrine and heading towards Mariko. Kneeling, she checked the smaller woman's vitals and wiped at her forehead with one arm. Ew. "Shiro! Hurry this up, man!" she called. Mariko's pulse was weak at best.

If Shiro weren't so concerned with Hideki, he'd have probably lost it right there. He had never expected Clarice to do such a thing, and he wouldn't be sure if this increased his respect towards her or freaked him out.

He'd have to think of it later, though. With Mariko safe, there was just Shiro and Hideki. Shiro might have the training of the X-Men and the power of the sun on his side, but Hideki was Hand and neatly dodged every attack and countered gracefully with his own.

"I should make that little bitch pay for what she did," Hideki snarled as he redirected a fireball back at Shiro. "I wonder if she's purple inside, too." He withdrew his katana from its sheath, holding it with his left hand and gesturing a mudra with his right. The silver blade glowed bright white for a second, and then turned jet black, as if it were absorbing all the light around it.

Shiro felt the temperature drop despite the manifestation of his solar flare. He gazed into the thin-sliver of darkness, shivering involuntarily. It looked like the antithesis of Harada's tachyon-sheathed blade. Knowing what that could do, he had no interest being on the receiving end of Hideki's.

Oh fuck. The blades are not supposed to turn black! At least Hideki had let go of Mariko which meant dragging/helping her to safety was slightly easier. Slightly.

"Dude, didn't get you get the 'stay the fuck away from me' memo?" she asked, as she deposited Mariko against a nearby tree, she was heavier than she looked, or maybe that was all her kimono.

Clarice wiped the blood off her forehead again as she tried to dodge his blade, "I don't want to hurt you," she warned, breathing heavily. "Because if I do, you won't be able to reattach your missing parts."

"I want to hurt him," Shiro said, drawing his own blade and charging. He was sure that this altercation would result in the destruction of his sword, but all he needed was to get close enough to blast him even once.

Not like that would be easy. Hideki didn't even have to block with his sword to avoid Shiro's attacks; he just dodged them like it was nothing. And when he countered, the blade went through Shiro's shield. Whatever spell had enchanted it was enough to withstand even the intensely hot temperature of the sun that burned around Shiro. He just barely flew back to avoid getting sliced in half.

So intent he was on Hideki, that Shiro missed the last ninja off to the side, mumbling and gesturing frantically. A branch from a nearby tree swung at him, and though it incinerated the moment it came into contact with his shield, it distracted him enough that Hideki had the necessary second to expand the spell on his sword. Thunder crashed as a black bolt of lightning raced from Hideki's katana and struck Shiro. He cried out in pain, the energy of the spell short-circuiting his own powers, and he fell to the ground unceremoniously. With a laugh, Hideki aimed another one near Clarice and Mariko as a warning to stay put.

Looking up from where he lay, Shiro tried to manifest again. He felt cold and everything looked darker and blurrier than usual. Was this it? Had Hideki's spell broken his inherent link with the sun long enough for Hideki to kill him? He half-expected to see his entire life race before his eyes, but all he could imagine was the last time he felt like this: August of 2004, when he tried to burn himself out and endangered not only his own life, but those of Cyclops, Cable, and Northstar as well. How selfish had he been that morning? Had he really changed at all? Impulsive as ever, Shiro had just run into this situation, dragging Clarice with him. And now he'd die, Mariko would die, and Clarice would die.

Shiro grasped his sword tightly, trying again to release the energy of the sun he commanded. If he had to live up to his name as Kamikaze, then so be it. How glorious it would be.

But he stopped when he felt something hot and wet spray on his face. Wiping it away with the back of his hand, he saw that it was blood. "Harada . . ." he gasped, looking up to see the Silver Samurai, sans armor, standing next to Hideki, his brilliantly white sword run through Hideki's middle.

"~You brutalize and try to murder my sister~," Harada snarled, "~And now you seek to extinguish the fire of the sun itself? You fool. This death is too honorable for you.~" He ran his sword upwards, neatly slicing Hideki in half.

"Ew," Clarice wrinkled her nose as blood spurted from Hideki's halves and then stopped, draining into a pool around him. "Yuck." She'd seen almost as bad as an EMT, but nothing quite this bad. Or deliberate.

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she focused back on Mariko, "Shiro!" she yelled, ignoring the ninja trying to guard her, "Shiro! We gotta motor! She's not gonna make it if we hang around here!" And it would enable her to get her own cut checked to make sure that she wasn't poisoned as well, the little voice in the back of her head reminded her.

Shiro slowly got to his feet, still a little addled. That last ninja was visibly shaken, his leader cut down violently before his own eyes, but to his credit he didn't run. Maybe there was some honor left in The Hand.

Well, until Harada destroyed it with a single tachyon-charged shuriken.

"Tokyo General is not far," Harada said to Clarice brusquely as he wiped his blade with a kerchief and then sheathed it. He knelt by them, taking Mariko's hand in his. His expression remained as stoic as ever, even as his sister's life slipped away. "You can transport us there?"

"Mmmm. Maybe," Clarice considered. She hadn't had enough energy earlier and she'd been fighting and porting since then. "Ready?" she asked, squaring her shoulders and opening a disk large enough for all four of them. She wasn't sure where the hospital was, but she could get them to Tokyo and go from there.

Three 'ports later, they arrived in front of the hospital and Clarice promptly collapsed, exhausted. She hadn't done that since the Halloween Demon Attack a year or so ago.