Disclaimer: I don't own Codename; Kids Next Door!

Title: The Sound Trick

Summary: Mushi finds herself helping her big sister when she comes home disorientated.

Warnings: BLOOD YA'LL. Also some angst

...

Mushi sits on the floor, a bowl of popcorn with extra butter on her lap, watching horror movies. It's pitch black outside, muggy with summer sweat, and really she's supposed to be asleep right now, but Kuki isn't home yet.

That's not abnormal. Kuki's always off on one thing or another, be it fixing up that treehouse or whatever she does on mission. It's not uncommon for her to be gone for days at a time, only to come home covered in stains and messy hair. It drives their parents crazy, but for all Kuki's playfulness, her job at the Kids Next Door is something she will never budge on. Mushi doesn't really get it.

It's not like Kuki ever explained it to her, either.

Humming a happy little tune, Mushi shoved a sleeve-covered hand into her popcorn bowl, chewing noisily. The gullible female protagonist- Lady- is slipping into an old church to escape the chainsaw of the mystery killer and find her way into the arms of the forced and unnecessary love interest, and Mushi can't wait to see their little subplot end.

The chainsaw revved just as the front door swings open, unheard. Mushi jumps with a shriek- she's certain she saw her mother lock it before bed- but it's just Kuki, tucking a large wad of gum into a wrapper with a word of Japanese Mushi assumes is a swear. (For obvious reasons, she's not allowed to know those particular words)

That's another thing about Kuki: she knows things. Mom and dad had never been one to divulge their history and culture in spades, but Kuki always seemed to just know. And, yes, English was their second language, but there's a difference between knowing the talk and knowing every aspect of a culture no one ever thought to tell.

Maybe Kuki studied up. Maybe she just knows. Either way, Mushi wishes she knew half as much, if only to better understand why life works in certain ways. Makes it easier to ruin others.

Lady screams as the church door slams open. Kuki shifts in a lazy startle, daintily shoving the wad of gum into her pocket, wrapper and all, and turning. She looks out of it- out of control, falling to pieces. It's not often she gets like this at home, but it's worrying all the same.

Kuki blinks at her. Opens her mouth, then closes it. Squints. Kicks the door shut behind her.

"Mushi?" She mumbles. The older girl visibly shakes herself, putting her hands on her hips. "You're supposed to be in bed! What're you doing up so late?"

"Waiting for you!" She says, with the added kick of puppy-dog eyes, when really that's just an excuse. "I left a window open for you, but I guess I should've known you had a way in."

Kuki bristles at that, immediately turning into that straight-backed girl Mushi sees when Nigel starts barking orders about anything- she once saluted him when he asked for crayons. Completely serious. She slips into the dining room, and Mushi hears the scwump of the window- which had only been open a crack- closing, then the click of a lock. The girl looks vaguely disappointed and angry when she returns, bottom lip sticking out. "Don't do that again. Someone could've broken in."

"Okay," She agrees easily. It really doesn't matter either way. "Wanna watch Gore 4; The Gorefest-ening with me?"

"You're too young for those movies," She retorts, but they both turn when Lady shrieks again. She's fending off the chainsaw man with a bible and the holy cross they carry down the aisle at the beginning of mass. Kuki keeps her eyes on the screen as she moves to stand next to her, letting her legs slump so she sits. She doesn't make a sound when her butt hits the floor.

Mushi, on her part, is ecstatic. Her sister has an aggressive streak to her, much like Mushi herself, and it's nice to revel in the rage together. Kuki's always trying to take the high road, is always 'too exhausted' when she gets home; it's nice to see her being neither.

"Why's he trying to kill her?" She asks finally, eyes glued to the screen.

"'Cause he can."

"But there's got to be a reason," Kuki pressed. "People don't just run around chopping people up without a reason. There's always something else there."

Mushi sniffed. "Who cares if he has a reason or not?"

That made her pause. "It's not realistic."

"Scary movies aren't supposed to be realistic. They're supposed to be scary."

Kuki laughs, head falling back onto the unused sofa. It's desperate and whiny to Mushi's ears. "You sound just like Numbuh 86. 'Who cares why, ya' ninnies! Just hold formation!' "I don't care if they bring out the adult weapons- ya' keep firing until no one's left standing!'" She sighed. "If only it were that easy."

That sounds vaguely ominous to her ears. "Are you okay?"

Kuki's head popped back up. Her eyes were a little red. "I'm fine, Mushi. Just tired."

The killer abandoned all pretense of niceness and yanked the bible from her, dragging Lady by the arm to where his discarded chainsaw lay after somehow getting smacked out of his hands. Lady fell to the floor, sobbing.

Mushi doesn't know what sets Kuki off. The sound of crying, the fact that a supposedly holy building (whatever, they aren't into the sort of thing- the Sanbans are a strictly Agnostic household), or maybe just the ridiculousness of the situation itself, but she swings her hands into the air.

"Don't just sit there!" She screeches at the TV. "Kick him in the stomach! Or, or between the legs! That always makes them let go. What kind of adult is making movies this stupid? I mean, come on- chainsaws don't work that way! And blood would splatter everywhere; not just his face! At least the Rainbow Monkey Hugtime Show helps kids learn how to suplex somebody with the power of hugs..."

She goes on and on, voice getting duller and duller, until finally Kuki lapses into silence. Mushi suddenly realizes that the sweater she's wearing isn't the one from this morning- it's hard to see in the darkness, but it's slightly off-color. Faded, and old. Kuki keeps picking at it, pulling it away from her skin. Mushi was fairly certain she was stretching the fabric.

"Are you sure you're okay?" She breached the silence hesitantly. "You're acting like mom did that one time dad lost his job."

Kuki stood up. "Come'on, Mushi. It's time for bed."

Mushi allowed her older sister to take her hand and lead their little party up the stairs. Kuki seemed more robot than child, with stiff, smooth footsteps, and her chest hardly seemed to heave.

Kuki had always been lost in her own little world, of course. Just never like this.

"There we go," She hummed, pulling the purple covers on Mushi's bed back. She hadn't even glanced at the ornaments in her room, something Kuki typically complimented. "Into bed with you. I'll be right back."

Mushi awkwardly crawled under the blankets. For all her rage, she wasn't sure if she dared complain about not wearing pajamas. Kuki had years of training and experience on her, and seemed out of it enough to use it.

"Here we go," She sing-songed, but none of the joy was on her features as she turned back into the room. "Here's a Cuddle Rainbow Monkey to help you sleep," She tucked the stuffed toy into the crook of Mushi's arm. "Good night."

"Night."

Mushi held her breath and waited for her sister to round the corner to hop off the bed. Normally, when the house was so quiet, sneaking up on the operative was impossible, but Mushi didn't think it would be all that hard now.

The bathroom door opened and shut. Mushi took the chance to slip into the hall, perching next to the door.

"Don't stand in front of the door if the hall is lit." One of Kuki's friends- Nigel?- had advised her once. "A keen-eyed subject might notice the light is blocked."

Well, the light wasn't on now, but she wasn't taking any chances. Mushi hovered on her tippy-toes, fingers brushing the doorknob. It wasn't an easy way to stand.

Another snippet entered her mind, this time from that idiot Hoagie Gilligan. "If you're gonna open a door, wait a second. If whoever's inside is moving around, there's a chance they might knock something over or creak a floorboard. That's when you strike. Just keep calm and breathe steady. That's what I like to call 'The Sound Trick'."

After that he said something about checking hinges to make sure they weren't gonna squeak but blah blah blah why were they telling her how to break into a house while stalking someone anyway?

Mushi forced herself to focus on breathing. Her heart thudded painfully. If she was too quick, Kuki would know she was there. If she was too slow, Kuki would know that she was trying to sneak up on her and possibly assume her to be an enemy.

There was a clattering. A hairbrush must've fell, judging by the plastic ring to it. Mushi twisted the knob and edged it open, if only slightly. There was a shifting, and she paused, but she was in the clear.

The medicine cabinet squeaked shut, then the creaking of someone sitting on the edge of the bathtub. An unsnapping sound.

(Mushi glanced at the hinges- clean. She felt stupid for even considering it.)

Gently easing the door open, the girl tried her best to peer through a crack, then widened it when she realized it didn't matter. Kuki was too busy to notice; and, even if she had, she didn't seem here enough to care.

Kuki had discarded her sweater, draping it on the lid of the toilet with little concern. The med kit had been taken from its' rightful place on the cabinet. She held it calmly, without shaking hands, as she tipped a bottle of alcohol onto a rag. She recapped the bottle and brought the rag up to her chest, sucking in a thin breath, shoulders tensing.

Mushi felt something angry and regretful gurgle up in her stomach. Kuki's back was facing her, but she could clearly see a cut slice across her side, front to back, just under the chest. It was fairly straight to look at, tapering up a bit on the end. It no longer wept blood, but the crust of dried, black blood had yet to form. Perhaps it had only stopped as she sat down; could it have opened again when she walked up the stairs? How do cuts like this even work?

"Sis?"

The operative froze, sighed, and turned her head to the door. "Whoopsie. Forgot to lock the door."

Mushi found her body shuffling forward, tipping the door shut. Kuki watched her cautiously a moment, then went back to work. She watched her sister fix herself up, sick in the heart. She wished, with all her soul, that she could find out who did this and hunt them down, to give them worse than what they gave, but Mushi knew, just as deeply, that her sister would never tell her the details.

"Confidential," she always said.

'That's stupid', Mushi always thought.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not really," She mumbles. Kuki seems to be unable to meet her eye, staring at the tile bathroom wall. "They put a numbing goop on it before I came home."

"Can I help?"

Kuki shifts. "Really?"

"Yeah." Mushi shrugs with exaggerated carelessness. Honestly, anything to go to bed without guilt and forget all about this. She knows this won't change her mind. It's really just easier to forget.

"Okay." She nods, and it's never been more apparent she's not 'with' them. Kuki would never give the job of bandaging something like this to her bratty, fiery little sister. She'd save it for that Abby girl, with her soothing voice and sure touch. Instead, she simply hands over the rag. "I can't reach my back."

Mushi hesitates. "How hard do I have to be?"

"If there's anything in the cut, get it out." She returns blankly. "I won't feel it."

She nodded and got to work. Mushi wondered why they didn't do more to her than just numb the wound. Judging by her comment earlier, about holding the line, had there simply been too many to treat? How many had there been? And why?

What would ever be worth getting the crud kicked out of you without any personal gain? Or any gain, for that matter?

"What's it like? Being an operative?"

Kuki's shoulders flex, then relax. Her dark eyes dart about the room, considering, lip between her teeth. "Not... normally like this."

"Yeah?" Mushi prompted. The sooner she was back to her normal self, the sooner Mushi could be to.

"Of course it is. Nobody joins the Kids Next Door for stuff like this." She pauses, then admits: "Okay, maybe Numbuh 1 did, but that's different. Being an operative is... it's being a hero. It's building safe places for kids to play on. Checking snow forts for fun. Missing school and baking cakes. Training exercises and team activities..."

Mushi thought she heard a sniffing noise, but ultimately ignored it.

"But sometimes there's big missions. Really big missions. The kind everybody spends weeks practicing drills for 'cause nobody knows what teams are gonna be picked but Numbuh 1 swears it'll be ours. And those missions... they aren't fun. They're not even work. They're just sad."

Mushi digs the rubbing alcohol in, as if the sting will somehow make her sister snap back into place, but it doesn't work. Of course it doesn't work- she can't feel it.

"Then why do it?"

"Why not?" She returns softly.

"You don't seem happy with it, is all." Mushi pulls away. "I think I got it all."

"Okay. Hand me my sweater?"

"Don't you want to bandage it?"

Kuki shook her head. "The med kit isn't really good for that."

Mushi glances at the open kit, sitting haphazardly in her sister's lap. All it has is a box of Rainbow Monkey band-aids. Their parents never expected something like this, after all.

She hands Kuki the sweater without further delay, watching hesitantly as she pulled it over her head.

"Somebody's gotta do it, you know," She mumbles through the fabric. She sounds clearer, now. More in control of herself. "The adults won't, and I don't want you to. So, there. That's why."

Author's Note: I seem to have this thing about putting these children through pain (see: my Wally fanfic, my Fanny fanfic, my Abby fanficS) and realized I hadn't done anything with Kuki yet, so here we go.

Mushi isn't her fireball self, no, but it's the middle of the night and everybody's sleepy, and that's my excuse.

-Mandaree1