“Oh, what a curious device!”
Takako gleefully clapped her hands. The Takako that came wrapped in blue-white light, the alter-ego that escaped from the Nuvenberg house.
Takako reacted first. Snatching the other Takako from Setsura, she planted her hand against his sternum and pushed. Not hard, but he was thrown a dozen feet backwards.
He managed to roll with the impact but still landed hard on his back, eliciting a grunt of pain.
“My kindred spirit. It is only logical that I should take possession of her,” Takako declared in sinister tones, holding the other Takako to her body. This was as well a scene of breathtaking beauty.
“Do you remember, Setsura-san? What I said when you grabbed me last? That I would tear you apart someday? Since I ran away from that house, I have been keeping my eye on your place and Mephisto Hospital. I kept quiet and waited for my chance to strike you down.”
These words from the mouth of the woman with exactly the same face as Takako, that radiant smile no different from that of any college co-ed.
“And now that time has come. Your right hand first. Then your left. And then I’ll divide you in two like Princess-sama there.”
The corpse of the Demon Princess lay on the ground to Setsura’s right. He furrowed his brow. In two?
The blue light filled his field of view. The color quickly lost its intensity. The blackness flowed back around them. Blue Takako reeled backwards.
“Kikiou, eh?” came a voice above him.
More than the kaleidoscopic human figure coming to her feet, Setsura’s attention was drawn to the two Takakos, and ten feet away, a white-haired old man.
“Wow, good timing. You showed up at just the right time,” said the amazed Setsura.
There was nothing inherently “amazing” about this situation. This young man was somehow missing the gene for strained nerves.
“Those two are the products of Mephisto’s experimentation,” said the great warlock and scholar. Using a normal arm—he must have reattached a pair back in the ship—he jabbed a gnarled cane at Takako. “This must have been the only way of stopping her in the process of becoming one of Princess’s tribe. At least her other half remains intact. I came back here to see to it that you do not interfere again, and to that end I will make you whole.”
“No!” shouted the blue Takako. “No! No! I don’t want to go back! Please, old man. If you help me, I’ll do whatever you want.”
More than the desperate look in her sidelong glance, what caught Kikiou’s attention were those words.
“You’ll do anything?”
“Sure. Fuck me silly, if you want.”
“Kill Setsura Aki.”
“I intended to all along. You’re the one who got in the way, old man.”
“I had considered Princess there, but for now Setsura Aki will do.”
“Fine with me. Hey, can I do it any way, using any method I want?”
“Suit yourself.”
“Oh, boy! I really like you, old man.”
Takako flashed her blue teeth and turned to Setsura.
A howl rent the night air first. “Kikiou, kill her!”
“Princess?” the old man cried out. “But—but—”
“Kill her!”
The menace rang out from Princess’s clear voice. Faster than Takako could make sense of the developing situation, Kikiou’s cane sank in between her full breasts. Blue Takako faded without a sound, and then disappeared, a wry smile on her lips.
“What of the girl?” Princess asked in primly satisfied tones.
“For all practical purposes, she will be the same as she always was. One of an infinite number of personas has disappeared. That is all. There should be no lasting effect on her body or soul.”
“Well then, good for her. Setsura, shall we pick up where we left off? To start with, we’ll make that girl your servant. You will drink her blood.”
“My my, the bitch is back, and thinking awfully high and mighty of herself.”
“Still with the name calling. Too bad you’ve used up your magic potion. The ship leaves soon. You will live forever in its hold dreaming wonderful dreams with me. Dreams of pleasure and ecstasy. Hoh. My victory is complete.”
Princess glided forward and fixed him in her gaze.
“Maybe next time,” Setsura said. “This dream looks like a freaking nightmare to me. Wouldn’t catch a wink sleeping next to a face like that.”
“What are you saying?”
Princess raised a hand to her cheek. She froze like a stone statue, as if Medusa had suddenly appeared before her. That heaven-blessed beauty had hideously melted away from half of her face.
Setsura couldn’t help imagining that white doctor smothering a private smile at that moment. Of course, he didn’t know that Mephisto had treated her after confessing his love for him, or that he had made sure that in the moment Princess’s victory seemed all but complete, the cure would crumble before her eyes.
“What—What is this? You tricked me, Mephisto!”
This cry of despair made the night catch its breath. Setsura couldn’t help furrowing his brow in pain. Kikiou stood there like a ramrod.
But Princess’s frenzy soon ended. As if admonished by the moonlight, she stopped in her tracks and whirled around to face Setsura.
“How ugly is this? Do you think me ugly, Setsura?”
At that moment, he didn’t have much of an opinion on the matter.
“Answer me! Please answer me!”
Something close to anguish filled her voice. Certainly no one had heard anything like it from her in the past four thousand years.
“I can’t honestly say I’m eager to look at you again,” Setsura said calmly.
The Demon Princess answered with equal alacrity and serenity. “Of course. Makes sense. Yet I am sure I can make others my own, this face notwithstanding. You’re different, Setsura.”
“Really?” This young man aspired to remain calm, cool and collected, twenty-four seven, a dormant butterfly tucked inside its chrysalis until called into action.