Witch Hunter Robin Fan Fiction ❯ False Echoes ❯ Merry Christmas, Puppies ( Chapter 9 )

Witch Hunter Robin
False Echoes

Chapter IX - Merry Christmas, Puppies

Disclaimer: You know by now I don't own Witch Hunter Robin®, which belongs to Sunrise® and Sci-Fi® Channel. You know this already.

Nor do I own the song False Echoes; I just borrowed its title.

Storyline, Plot, Kenny Avery©, Roger Williams©, Kichiro Wantanabee©, Rick Richards©, Michael Campbell©, Rosalind Nichols© and Mr. David Rica© are mine.

Author Notes:

Yes. At last here it is.

The return of a villain I know all of you love.

Or at least love to hate.

Mr. David Rica is back.

^_~

>>>WARNING<<<

This Chapter Contains Amon giving emergency medical treatment to Karasuma. I do not know the first thing about first aid and this is all just crap I saw from watching movies. If you are ever in a situation in which you must administer first aid, I do not recommend doing what you saw in this fanfic, as it may, for all I know, make things worse.

DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!!!!

(Always wanted to have a "do not try this at home" warning.)

----------------

The park was surprisingly sunny for Christmas Eve, and the gleam of golden rays of the sun shining off mounds of white snow was the first thing Yurika Doujima noticed, as she stepped out of her new red car, the same model as her old one.

Her old car had been destroyed by Kichiro Wantanabee's craft a few days ago, and so until she could afford a new one, the STN-J had provided her with a nice rental car. Of course, she liked the new one so much; she had decided to keep it.

Now, however, as the black tired rolled over the white snow that lightly painted the ground above the park, she was not out for a joy ride. It was business, not pleasure. She heard Miho was here, and she had been meaning to talk to her.

Doujima saw the cold, unforgiving look that had haunted Miho's eyes that night at the museum. It was the icy chilled look that told the sad story of taking a life. Even an evil life, a life that had been dedicated to the worst possible cause, as Kichiro's had been. The pain was the same, whether you kill an innocent child, or a guilty rapist, it hurts you all the same.

Doujima's feet stepped over the snow-covered ground, packing the white powder deep into the brown soil of the earth. Her sapphire eyes landed on the form of a relatively young woman sitting on a small, snow-capped park bench. Doujima saw Karasuma sitting in her pink coat, her haunted eyes looking down at the snowy ground.

"Hey Miho-chan." Doujima spoke in a warm voice. But as warm as it was they both knew why Doujima had come and it was a reason colder than the snow.

"Yurika." Karasuma acknowledged quietly. The blonde sighed and moved over towards the park bench, brushing some of the powdery snow off the black painted wood before slipping down and sitting beside her friend.

"I know." Doujima said quietly, no longer feeling the courage to look at her friend. "It's awful."

"I've killed people before, Yurika." Karasuma spat out matter-of-factly. "I used to work here before the Orbo."

Doujima sighed and bit her lip. "Yeah, but that doesn't make it less painful."

Karasuma sighed and brought her face up to eye level with the younger girl. Doujima could see tears welling up inside the redhead's eyes and she sighed, wishing she could help more. Of course, there is no cure to heartache. There is no cure for the pain that comes with murder.

"You saved Haruto's life." Doujima whispered.

"And you saved both his and Robin's when you killed Rica, but that is a shallow comfort isn't it?" Karasuma asked meekly. Doujima sighed.

"Miho-chan . . ."

"It is okay. I've been through this before. It's just been so long."

Doujima wrapped a comforting arm around her friend, but there was no real calming for Karasuma's uneasy heart.

"I killed someone for the first time when I was just fourteen, Yurika." Karasuma's edgy tone was talking once again, and Doujima began to feel that she was only depressing her friend even more. "I was just a kid, Yuri. But because I'm a fucking witch, I had to kill or be killed."

Karasuma's sadness was melting away and anger was taking over. Her body was shaking quietly beside Doujima and memories were flashing inside her mind. Memories of the first time she'd killed someone.

----

February 18th, 1997 (Start Flashback)

----

It was, of course, a dark warehouse. There was always a dark warehouse. The problem with tonight was Karasuma was on her second hunt ever, and she had to do it with her new partner, Amon.

Amon. What did she think about him? That he was a bastard. A total and utter bastard. They had already had one fight the night before and now they were expected to hunt a witch without Josh.

Josh. He was different. Josh Osaka, the son of a witch father from Tokyo and a human mother from Chicago. He was the leader of the STN-J's Witch Hunting team, and he had been nothing but nice to her in the few short weeks since she arrived here. Not like Amon, who had told her to stop crying and work harder.

Karasuma was shaken from her thoughts as Amon's voice spoke, announcing that they were now at the warehouse. Her deep ocean eyes shot out to look at the ominous black shape that was an old factory before them. A large steel door where trucks had once loaded boxes, but were now unused, stood open all the way.

"Let's go."

Karasuma stepped out of the car, walking over the cold ground as quickly as she could. Amon wasn't waiting for her. She watched as he ran in the pale light cast down from the silvery moon, his hair, as black as the night itself, was swaying behind him in the wind. She watched as the jacket that he wore over his shirt fluttered in the breeze.

Beneath the jacket was the shirt as black as the rest of his personality that clung to his perfectly shaped chest so tightly - what the hell was she thinking? Karasuma caught herself as her thoughts turned away from her partner running towards and witch hunt, and to his . . . anatomy.

Shaking her head and lowering it afterwards to keep Amon from seeing her blush (which she didn't need to do, since he was ignoring her completely anyway), she arrived beside him at a small door on the side of the factory as Amon picked the lock quietly. Suddenly there was a click and Amon went for his gun before kicking in the door.

The two newest STN-J operatives flocked inside the building quickly, their eyes flashing around the dark room for any sign of the Witch they were supposed to be hunting.

There was nothing but silence. Karasuma ran to the right, Amon to the left. Karasuma's swift feet carried her deep inside the ocean of boxes and covered objects and odd machines before she heard the gunshots. She spun around as fast as she possibly could and could see a flash of light from the distance, followed by more gunshots.

Running once more towards the sound of guns and craft powers, she hurried past a mountain of old crates, but her foot slipped and she went falling face first onto the icy concrete ground. She felt her chin smash into the ground and could feel blood begin to trickle from her nose.

She pushed herself up with her arms, trying to ignore the pain that had shot from her chin to the top of her head and the thick stream of blood that fell from her nose. The youngest Witch Hunter ran around another corner and her eyes adjusted to the sight before her.

Amon lay against a wall, a dark trickle of blood seeping from his leg and pooling around him. He held his left arm on a crate at his side, clenching his fist into the wood, which broke and splintered at his strong touch, while his right hand held the gun out, squeezing off the last remaining shots.

The witch, a tall man with long black hair down the middle of his back and cold unforgiving green eyes, merely laughed as the bullets fell harmlessly to the ground. The witch flicked his head lightly and a large crowbar that had lain against an old barrel of gasoline shot into the air and flew down at Amon like a spear.

Karasuma fired her gun at that moment, and the witch was so surprised by the sound of the gunshot, that he missed with the crowbar and it smashed into the splintered wooden crate Amon's hand had squeezed to help him fight the pain in his leg.

The witch turned around slowly, his vindictive eyes falling on Karasuma. He smirked smugly and walked towards her, raising one of his hands out before him. Karasuma aimed the gun, but she could not fire it. She froze as ice chilled her spine all the way down.

"How old are you? Ten? Twelve?" The witch smirked as he reached forward. Karasuma fired the gun, but not at him, only past his head. The witch was not afraid of the gunshot and he only smirked wider as he walked towards her.

"Karasuma, kill him!" Amon's cold voice was heard over the witch's diabolical laughter.

Karasuma fired a second shot, but again she missed on purpose. She wanted the witch to stop. She wanted him to stop moving. She didn't want him to come any closer to her. Her eyes watered with salty tears as her nose continued to bleed sticky, warm blood.

"Stupid child."

The crowbar from before shot out of the wood beside Amon, and before the dark hunter could react; it flew across the room and towards Karasuma. She screamed and pulled the trigger a fourth time as the metal bar smashed into her shoulder and sliced open her flesh, allowing more of the same sticky substance that fell from her nose to spatter across her chest.

Her arm flailed as the crowbar hit her, causing the gun to fire in a different direction than she meant it to, and causing the bullet to fly swiftly into the witch's chest, piercing his ribcage and lungs below. After a brief gurgling sound the witch fell to the ground as blood bubbled up and out of his mouth, like a dinner pot overflowing while boiling.

Karasuma fell onto the ground as her shoulder leaked her lifeblood onto her black STN-J trench coat and pink sweater beneath. She cried as the pain overtook her and the adrenaline that had kept her fighting vanished. Her chin hurt, she had a horrible headache, and now her arm was bleeding rigorously.

She did not know how long it took Amon, who could not walk, to drag himself across the floor to her. She did know that after what seemed like a eternity of pain in her shoulder and matching hurt in her head, Amon's cold, gloved hands reached out and pushed the jacket from her body.

She was still crying as Amon began to lift her sweater, before she realized that Amon was lifting her sweater. She made a noise to protest, but the dark hunter ignored her as he always did. After discarding the blood-drenched shirt on the ground he pushed her back painfully into a wall as his eyes darter to the torn hole in her shoulder blade.

A second later, Amon reached down for the sweater once more, grabbed the blood stained shirt, and began to tear one of the sleeves off.

"H-h-hey!" Karasuma tried to complain, but Amon ignored her once again as he wrapped the sleeve of her shirt around her shoulder and tied it tightly over the wound. So tightly, that it hurt horribly and made Karasuma scream out and cry more.

"Hush." Amon spoke in his normal voice as harsh as ice. He pulled the sweater sleeve over her wound even tighter before he found it acceptable. He then moved his gloved hand down her arm and used two fingers to squeeze a small corner of her wrist.

"What are you doing?" Karasuma barked. She had stopped crying, though tears mixed with blood still soaked her face. He was squeezing a vain in her wrist painfully and she wanted him to stop.

"I'm fracturing your nerves." Amon's cold reply came as he continued squeezing her vein. A second later, Karasuma felt her petite arm go numb, like she had slept on it too long and it was asleep. It was an annoying feeling, but the pain had diminished considerably.

Amon then slumped back against the crates at her side and gave a low sigh. She only then remembered his leg, which had been spewing out sticky blood this entire time, and she gave him a concerned look, but he ignored her and only wrapped one of his massive arms around her bare back.

"What are you doing now?" Karasuma was being forced against Amon's chest, which sent a tiny spill of pain through her arm, but she could barley feel it over the numbness. What was worse than the pain was the fact she had suddenly become very aware that she was wearing nothing more than a black bra and her face had become as red as the blood that covered the ground.

"I can't walk, and you shouldn't move until the bleeding stops." Amon explained. "We need to get some sleep. Josh will come looking for us soon. Now hush."

Karasuma, blushing, bleeding, and bra-chested sighed and leaned into Amon's chest, closing her eyes and trying to pretend she was in her nice warm bed instead of this dark, cold factory with the dead body of a witch feet away.

The dead body of a witch she had killed.

----

December 24th, 2002 (End Flashback)

----

Karasuma shook her red-haired head and stood up all at once. She couldn't dwell on the past. She couldn't dwell on those she had killed, just like she couldn't dwell on the feelings she'd had for Amon since that night. It was all pointless.

"Miho-chan . . .?"

Karasuma blinked and suddenly remembered that Doujima had been sitting beside her for at least twenty minutes in mute silence. The blonde was giving her friend a quizzical look, but Karasuma only flashed a weak, but still warm smile.

"Let's go to Harry's." She said at length.

----

The atmosphere inside Touko's apartment was cheerful on Christmas Eve.

Michael sat in a chair just outside the kitchen, his blue eyes looming out from behind his orange glasses, watching Robin. Robin herself was standing before the stove, making genuine Italian spaghetti and meatballs for their dinner. Perhaps not the most traditional Christmas dinner, but it was a welcome treat for both Touko and Michael.

Robin had her sleeves pulled back and tied to her upper arms with rubber bands as she mashed the sauce herself. She didn't use the store bought cans of spaghetti sauce, she was making it from scratch, as she did in Italy at the convent.

"Smells good." Michael commented from his seat outside the kitchen as he let his head lounge on his hands, supporting his entire weight with his elbows. Robin flashed him a small smile but said nothing. She had, of course, kicked them both out of the kitchen so not to get in the way of the many pots and pans that contained noodles or the ingredients for the sauce.

"Did you make this a lot back in Italy?" Touko asked. She was seated next to Michael, a small notebook on the counter before her, which was filled with numbers and small math equations: she was paying the bills.

"Actually, this is the first time I've done this." Robin grinned. "I used to make the meatballs for Sister Mary and Sister Angelina, but that was all."

Michael smiled as he watched her cook. Of course, he smiled anytime his eyes fell on her. She always had a way of cheering him up and making him feel warm and content, even in bad situations. He got an odd little smirk on his face and suddenly, remembered something he'd meant to ask her for a long time.

"Robin, are you a Nun?"

Robin blinked and shook her head. "No."

It was Touko's turned to blink. "You're not?"

Robin shook her head once more, a sad sigh escaping her mouth. "I can't be a Nun… because Nuns can't kill people."

There was a small silence in the room in which both Touko and Michael found that looking at the ceiling was incredibly addictive before at last Michael spoke in a solemn voice. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Robin shook her head once again. "I can't change what I've done. I can only hope to be forgiven."

"Can't we all."

Michael, Robin and Touko all gave a startled jump as Nagira spoke from behind them all. Robin and Michael, who had never met the man before, both took offensive stances, but Touko shook her hand at them.

"Konnichiwa, Nagira-san." Touko smiled up at him.

"Hey." Nagira shot back as he dug around his pocket for a moment before at last he found a cigarette and put it between his lips before beginning a second dig for his lighter.

Robin and Michael shot each other equally quizzical looks, asking without words if they knew who this man might be, but Touko and Nagira seemed to ignore them completely. Touko was busy shooting her own asking look without words, trying to determine if Nagira had learned anything about the matter they discussed a few days ago.

"Was it-"

"Yes." Nagira said at once.

Touko sighed and shook her head. "I see."

Her voice was quiet, but Robin was able to pick up on the sadness and immeasurable anger that hid behind the wall of whispers. Before the pond green-eyed girl could ask Touko about it, the blonde was gone.

She had grabbed Nagira's hand and sped off out the door, leaving Michael and Robin alone.

"What was that about?" Robin asked as she walked out of the kitchen and stared at the now-closed door that the two adults had vanished into only seconds ago.

"I have no idea."

----

For the second time in December, Sakaki found himself down on one knee, sitting in the fluffy white snow that covered his mother's grave.

"Ma'."

Sakaki wore a warm smile on his face, despite the fact it was freezing cold. His blonde hair was covered in small, damp mass of snowflakes, and he shook from the cold, as his breath became a hoary haze in the air before him.

"I wanted to give this to you for seven years, Ma'."

Sakaki opened his fist, which had been protectively holding the small silver necklace that Doujima had recovered for him from his father after the first time he had been stopped by Amon. Sakaki's eyes watered a bit and he tried to keep himself from crying, but truly he could not. He was too happy.

"Dad's gone, ma'. He's dead. Amon and Karasuma-san killed him."

Sakaki wiped the snow clean of the soft plot of earth that was covering the grave, and then slipped the small silver necklace onto it with a loving smile.

"Yuri-chan got it back from Dad. I wanted to bring it sooner, but I've been real busy. Gomen nasai ma'."

Sakaki gave a loving sigh as he smiled down at his mother's grave. It was wonderful to finally have some closure.

Haruto, aged six, sat on his mother's lap as the car pulled into the parking lot of their new apartment building in the big city called Tokyo. Sora Sakaki smiled down at her son and reached into the glove compartment, pulling out a tissue and wiping her son's nose with it, trying to get a spot off.

"Stoppit ma'."

"Hold still Haruto."

Haruto complained but he was still happy in his mother's lap, even if she was wiping his nose with a tissue. He laughed a bit for no real reason and the redhead smiled down at him with a loving glance.

"Ma?"

"Yes Haruto?" Sora asked as she turned off the ignition and opened the door of the car.

"Is dad really gone?"

Sora paused and sighed quietly to herself. She ran a hand through her son's blonde hair tenderly. He had gotten the blonde hair from her father's genes, which she was happy for. Sakaki looked a lot like his grandfather and almost nothing like his father.

"Yes honey, he is." She smiled to her son.

"Good." Haruto replied as he gave his mother a tender hug. "I don't like dad."

Sora sighed and hugged her son back. "Let's go to our new home, Haruto."

"Okay, ma!"

"Will you help me with the bags?"

"Sure ma!"

----

That Night

----

The Christmas Eve dinner had been wonderful, of course.

Robin had learned how to cook in the convent, as it was a manner of keeping her busy, and when an eleven-year-old girl has the ability to create fire at will, it is important to keep her busy so that she does not use those powers out of boredom.

After dinner, Michael had found his way onto the terrace of Touko's apartment and now he stood leaning on the railing, his sky blue eyes scanning over the snow covered city. It was wonderful to be outside in the snow. It really was.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only an hour, he heard the terrace door open and Robin joined him outside. His eyes flashed to her for a brief moment before returning to the city.

"Hey." Michael said offhanded.

Robin walked quickly over towards Michael and wrapped her arms around his back and under his own arms. Being pulled into a hug from behind him, Michael smiled for a minute before turning around and pulling Robin close to him.

"Hey." Robin finally responded as she smiled up at him.

Michael's lips found their way to Robin's forehead, kissing her softly. He repeated his kisses a second and third time before Robin shot her hand up. He had been about to place a fourth kiss on her forehead, but Robin's hand changed the route and brought Michael's lips on a crash-course with her own.

The hacker had the same pink twinge in his cheeks that he always had when he and Robin shared a moment like this. Their lips met a second and final time before Robin gave him a happy hug and set her head down gently on his shoulder.

They stood out on the terrace for a while as snow fell around them, and onto them. Robin's pond green eyes scanned the city just as Michael's ocean blue ones had done only minutes ago.

"Merry Christmas, Michael." Robin squeaked quietly.

Michael smirked back as he ran one of his fingers over her silky smooth neck and smiled as she shivered not from the cold but from his touch.

"Merry Christmas, Robin."

----

Not far from where Robin and Michael shared an innocent moment of kissing on the terrace of Touko's apartment, Sakaki lay on his bed in his small apartment.

He had all day been remembering memories about times he had shared with his mother. He always did, but for the first time he was remembering the happy memories. The memories about his mother reading him stories before bed, or kissing his cheek before he went off to school.

He sighed happily. For the first time, he was not remembering her death, or one of her many beatings at the hands of his father, but instead he was remembering happiness. He felt wonderful for the first time in years.

Then the front door opened.

Sakaki's hand reached under his pillow and he grabbed his gun, aiming it at the still closed bedroom door as he heard footsteps approach.

There was a moment's hesitation before the door swung open and Sakaki spotted Doujima. Her eyes fell on the gun and she gave a small, throaty growl. Sakaki shook his head and returned the gun under his pillow.

"Domo."

"Yeah, whatever." Doujima grinned. "You're slow, aren't you Haruto-kun?"

Sakaki blinked and looked back over at Doujima, and suddenly realized that he was slow. He hadn't even noticed it before, but now as he looked he realized what Doujima was dressed in.

Her black STN-J coat. And a big, red ribbon tied around her neck.

That was all.

"Yuri-chan . . ."

"I spent all my cash on the new car so this was the only present I could think of." Doujima explained with a sly grin, but then she added quickly: "But if Robin-chan asked, I gave you a watch."

Sakaki grinned.

----

Kenny Avery gave a sigh as his eyes scanned out the window.

The car rolled up outside a large, gorgeous hotel in downtown Tokyo. Kenny and Roger, who had both become great friends, were now sitting outside while Rica went in to check on their hotel reservations.

Avery and Williams had learned they had very much in common. Both of them had served in the Gulf War, and afterwards turned to become police officers. Kenny was a homicide detective in New York, while Williams was a drug enforcement official in London. Both of them, while happily married, had once cheated on their wives. And both of them were blackmailed into working for an undead zombie killer from New Orleans.

Kenny was tall and lean, built like a classic American High School football star. His hair was blonde and curly, his eyes a pale blue. Roger on the other hand was bulkier and shorter. He was built like a bulldog, but as gentle as a beagle. His hair was red and wavy, and freckles covered his face.

"Puppies, I got our rooms."

The two blackmailed cops turned their heads to the car window and spotted Rica, with women. The girls wore bellhop uniforms and there was one hanging off of each of his arms. The smug, smiling, sunglass wearing man between turned around and headed back into the hotel.

"You know." Roger said in an amused chuckle. "I wonder what the women say when David takes off his sunglasses."

Kenny shrugged. The memory of Rica's hallowed out eye sockets was horrible and chilled him to the bone. The two young men shook their heads and headed into the hotel.

The hotel was, in a word, breathtaking. The carpets were rich, red and black and yellow and gave a warm feel, like a loving fireplace. The walls were gold and shined in the light and the smell of fresh flowers floated around.

"Hate the smell." Kenny suddenly heard Rica telling the girls at his arms. "Back in New Orleans, a hotel smells good. Smells like beer and gumbo. Damn good smell. Though you two smell awful good, yourselves."

Kenny felt like he'd be sick, so he sighed and decided to take a different elevator than Rica and the girls. Roger seemed to get the same idea, because he too climbed onto the same elevator as Kenny.

"He's bloody horrible." Roger randomly ranted.

"Who? Rica? Yeah, he is."

The elevator stopped and the New York cop and his British counterpart stepped off into the hallways (which were snow white walls with an ocean blue carpet that gave a serene, peaceful fill) and down the hall they saw Rica going to open the hotel room door, the girls giggling at his side.

"Let's hang back for a while. I don't fancy watching Rica on the job." Roger said almost sickly.

"Eh, by the time we get down there, he'll be done."

The two cops laughed at this as they headed down the hall, but suddenly there were screams from the two girls at the door, and the sound of automatic gunfire made both Avery and Williams go for their pistols at once.

Machineguns were firing from inside Rica's hotel room. Kenny could only guess their number at anywhere from six to nine. Rica and the girls at his arms were in a steady streak of fire as bullets sailed through their bodies swiftly and into the wall behind.

Kenny had, when the shooting started, grabbed his gun and ducked behind the edge of their hallway and a connecting one, and Roger had jumped back into the elevator, hit the emergency stop and crouched down in the doorway. Kenny shot a look at the Englishman and made an old military hand gesture for "follow me."

The second Kenny looked down the hallway he saw, the girls and Rica lying slumped against the wall in a pool of blood. Two men with machineguns wearing black suits that reminded him of the SWAT team were in the hallway. A third exited the hotel room and spotted Kenny. He gave a brief cry, but Kenny fired his nine millimeter first and put a bullet in the man's black mask.

The other two men turned around and began to empty their clips in a barrage of machinegun fire, and Kenny kicked open a room door beside him and jumped inside just in the knick of time. Roger was able to squeeze off two shots from his black revolver, which hit the leg of one of the shooters, before he had to duck into the elevator for protection.

The other men inside the hotel room had dispensed into the hallway and were now joining in the firing towards Kenny and Roger, when one of the Factory Agents, for they were in fact Factory Agents, heard the sound of a pistol cock from behind him.

Before the Factory agent could move he felt the barrel of a gun press into the back of his head, and heard a smug voice, thick will New Orleans accent, speak.

"Couldn't you have shot the girls after I screwed them? Oh, and by the way, bullets don't work on me, puppy."

Rica pulled the trigger of his silver revolver that looked like a relic from a John Wayne movie and blew a large hole in the man's neck. The remaining Factory agents moved like clockwork. Of the six still alive, three spun around and fired repeated shots into Rica, while the others continued firing towards Kenny and Roger.

Rica laughed as the bullet tore holes in his skin and some of the older wounds healed up at the same time. He aimed the gun casually, almost as if he didn't realize he was being shot, and one-by-one killed the six Factory agents.

When Kenny and Roger heard the gunfire stop, they peeked their heads out slowly to see Rica standing over the two dead women and the dead team of Factory assassins. Both Avery and Williams looked stunned.

"Damn." Rica cursed, ignoring their obvious bewilderment at his survival and their growing curiosity as the bullet holes covering him healed up. "Zaizen knows we're here. I suppose Kichiro must have tipped him off."

Kenny and Roger both sighed as many surprised faced looked into the hallway, desperate to see what was happening now that the bullets had stopped flying. Rica ignored them and gave a small yawn.

"Merry Christmas, puppies."

----------------

*Listening to Brooks & Dunn You Can't Take the Honky Tonk Out of the Woman*

Well, I do believe this is the longest chapter I've written ever in all my WHR fics.

It's late so the notes will be short.

Just wanted to say thanks to everyone who reviewed. I now have 134 reviews, which is only 30 away from the amount I got on Fire and Rain, and since this story is hopefully at least another nine chapters long, I should be breaking 200.

Oh, if I broke 200 I'd squeal like an 8-year-old schoolgirl.

XD

Also, if you haven't already, go read:

I Promise You Freedom by SanoGirl

And

In Your Eyes by Kanno

Two great RobinxMichael fanfics, and if you need more reason than that then just do it because I told you too and if you disobey me than David Rica and his army of machinegun wielding Ringwraiths with hunt you down. XD

Also, here's the latest on the still-in-development sequel to False Echoes.

Title
the title, 100%, is called "Thunder Rolls", just like the Garth Brooks song. (Again, music inspires me)

Doujima's friend

A childhood friend of Doujima's will be dropping by, and stirring up trouble when she reveals some secrets of Yurika's.

Amon's Mentor
Josh Osaka, who was mentioned briefly in the flashback of this chapter, will be making an appearance in TR, and will be impacting it in a huge way.

Puppy Love?

Michael has Robin, Sakaki has Doujima, Amon has Karasuma, but there is still one man who plays a huge roll in my WHR stories who is still single. No, not Kosaka. Well . . . if you can't figure it out by the words in bold then you're just not reading hard enough . . .

Well, I'm done talkin' now.

Ja Ne

~ Golden-sama