[miyake mikio]

CONSEQUENCES BE DAMNED She caught up to Ta-ko just in time, it seemed like. He collapsed to one knee and Mikio doubled over, bracing herself against her knees as she caught her breath. Her pink brain, now stained crimson and matted with the sheer quantity of blood she’d be splattered with, swung forward and brushed more gore across her cheek like the work of an abstract painter. "Good job, Ta-ko!” she said cheerfully, lifting one of her hands up for a high-five—then wincing and pulling it back to herself as she remembered that she still had the pointy part off an arrow stuck in her shoulder. "Ouchies.” Ta-ko was searching for something in his cloak, but Mikio just bit down on her sleeve and yanked the rest of the arrow free, a comical geyser of blood briefly erupting from the wound before it slowed into a more normal trickle. "Mimi is A-okay!” she said, bunching the extra fabric of her sleeve up against her shoulder. "Ta-ko needs to rest, don’t worry about Mimi!” With the way she was gnawing on her lower lip and the tell-tale crease of her brow, it was clear that Mimi was extremely worried about Ta-ko, glancing at him every few seconds as if he would transform into a statue if she looked away for too long. In a couple of minutes Inventor-san and his feline bodyguards had caught back up with the pair; he was sweaty, shaken, splattered with blood, but no worse for wear. Mikio beamed. "See, Inventor-san, we’re great bodyguards!” she cheered. "We’ll get you where you’re going safe, don’t you worry!” After they all took a few minutes to rest, tend to their injuries—Mikio accepting Taro’s help once she realized that she couldn’t just keep her hand on her shoulder the whole rest of the journey, and only after he had drank some water and had a snack himself—they were able to move on, and get Inventor-san to his destination without further incident. [fin.] Gima Taro -- 332

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