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open up your eyes and then you're free;
Summary: A Blood+ AU regarding the events if Saya had failed in her quest to kill Diva, and instead woke up thirty years later. The world is now ruled by Chiropterans, and Kai had become a Chevalier. Okamura is missing in action, and Saya and Haji must fight once more for the world they had left behind, while revealing the reason for Chiropterans in the world.
.prologue: awakening
The strings of a soft song from a cello wafted around the room. It was mournful, a sad tune.
She awoke slowly, wet and trembling, tears trickling down her face. Disoriented, she quietly clutched at herself, and glanced at where the song was coming from. In the corner of the structure, a familiar figure, clad in black, mournfully pulled at the strings.
Quietly, she watched him. With his bandaged hand, he pulled at the chords with slow emotion, fragile and sad. Leaning beside him was the katana, swathed in cloth. She sat up, her hair long again, flowing over her like a waterfall. The cello stopped, and she felt a heavy blanket wrapped around her.
“Saya,” he said. He gripped her gently, face close to hers, breathing for a few moments. Then he released her.
“. . . Haji?” No other person, she thought, would say her name in such a sad voice. Sleepily, she watched him stand again, and reach for his cello. His long hair gently framed his face, as he once again began the sad song.
Suddenly, she started, and grabbed her sword. “Diva--!”
The song stopped again. Gripping the blanket around her, she searched Haji’s face desperately. He looked away, unable to meet her eyes.
The door shifted, and Saya stared as an elegant young woman entered the room. She did not notice Saya at first, too busy staring at the papers she had in her hands.
“Bad news today, too, Haji. Russia’s a no-go, and the Red Shield was compromised in Australia. But! I tracked down a lead to their main base. Our next stop will be New York,” said the woman viciously, with a sharp smile. Saya stared at her, wondering when she had seen the familiar heart-shaped face, the bright brown eyes, and the general sturdiness of face.
A camera hung around her neck.
“MET, huh? They must have moved bases from Vietnam, just like Joel suspected. Maah, this life gets so tiring,” said the woman, slumping on the seat, papers still clutched in her hand. “I wonder how Okamura did it all, anyway. That’s why he took up cigarettes.”
“Okamura-san?”
The woman paused in the middle of reshuffling her papers and stared at her. And then she moved forward suddenly, though Haji only sat and watched. The woman inspected Saya with wide eyes, and then she gripped her shoulders tightly.
“It can’t be—Saya—“ The woman stared. “She’s awake. She’s awake! Haji, why didn’t you tell anyone?” She grimaced at him as she turned around, stomping her foot.
“You’re—“
“It’s me, Mao! Do you remember me?” Mao Jahana stared at her intensely, and then let out a small groan. “Oh, no, she’s an amnesiac again! I’ll have to call Joel, and—hey, this place doesn’t get good transmission. Hey, Haji, come here.”
Saya watched, her mouth slightly open, as Haji obediently bent to the ground and lifted his cello case. Jahana nearly strangled him as she climbed atop, grabbing Saya’s sword to connect to her phone as she dialed.
“It’s the waves,” she explained. “Saya . . . “ Now her eyes were filled with tears. “You’re awake.”
“Ah, y-yes.” Taken aback, Saya continued to stare. “Wa-wait, I didn’t forget you—“
“Re-really?” Jahana looked surprised. And then she smiled softly. “Yeah. Girls don’t forget each other. Oh! Oh, Joel, it’s me, Mao.”
Saya sat at her seat.
“Yeah—yeah—okay. Yes, I’ll send you the report via text. Right—right.”
“Jahana—Jahana-san—“
She hung up briskly and hopped off, tossing the sword back to Haji, who caught it without complaint.
“So much changed while you were asleep,” Jahana said, her eyes wide. “Omoro’s our place of operation now, and Joel’s such an old man. He had such a baby face. He still does, except it’s lined with wrinkles and gray hair now. Julia and Lewis still work there, but they mostly handle home operations now, since they’re getting older. But they were the ones who personally trained Nahabi and Javier, so I guess it’s all right.”
“Wai—wait—“
“Okinawa’s pretty safe, as things go. How’s your outfit?” She tsked under her tongue when she saw the state of Saya’s dress, and reached around her bag until she brought out a school uniform.
“Here, wear these. Haji, get out.”
“Saya . . . “
The entire situation seemed too familiar. “It’s all right,” Saya said helplessly, “I’ll join you in a bit.”
With another meaningful look, he left the room.
“Lulu’s still alive—but—“ Here she hesitated. “She contacted the Thorn. Even your enzymes are becoming inefficient, and Julia’s giving her larger and larger doses every week. It’s amazing she lived so far, though. She’s really cheerful, though. She says she’ll keep alive until you wake up.”
Saya finished dressing, staring down at the old-fashioned uniform.
“You really haven’t changed, have you,” Jahana said reproachfully, fluffing up Saya’s collar naturally. “All right, let’s go to Omoro. It should be pretty safe. I mean, we have Haji, after all.”
“Wait, Jahana-san, what happened to Diva?”
Jahana paused. “. . . Saya.” Now her voice softened. Then she sighed. “Go see for yourself.” She pointed the door.
Saya slowly walked to the door, head spinning. As she opened it, she first noticed it was a cloudy day. Haji stood outside, his face blank as always. She looked at him, and then she looked over the trees to the buildings.
And stopped, her breathing jerking badly.
The ruined buildings barely stood on the sky, many fallen and toppled. Smoke rose from the remnants of Okinawa, as Chiropterans raged against the city, haunting it, as if they owned the town. There even those that dared to fly, encircling the building repeatedly, a taunt. Even as she swayed, Haji caught her, so she could look down at the stone steps and could see old blood splashed onto the edges, and some steps even broken.
The world was bloody and broken.
The beautiful sea that she had seen, so long ago, riding on Kai’s bike, seemed stained with blood.
“I . . . I fell asleep,” she whispered, gripping Haji’s sleeve tightly. “Before I could defeat—defeat Diva—“
“It’s a world of Chiropterans now.” Jahana lighted up a cigarette. “I guess that’s the way it is.”
Saya stared, horrified, at the world she had created.
.chapter one: thirty years later
Flooring the small Beetle, Jahana drove recklessly down the street. Any traffic lights had long stopped functioning, and the car was too fast for most Chiropterans to follow. Jahana expertly entered a side street, where it seemed nobody—not even the Chriopterans—lingered.
Saya stared at the broken ruins of her school. She had once spent her days there, doing homework, the high jump, sports. Now it was empty and broken.
“Saya.”
She looked at Haji, who had taken her hand gently. His bandages gently grated across her skin, and his other hand felt tender against hers.
“It’s not as bad as it seems,” Jahana said, using her elbow to move her shotgun further into the passenger seat. The back of her car was filled with papers, though all clipped together neatly in folders and in boxes, so Saya had to sit on her legs, and Haji was in an awkward scrunched position.
“There are still people, if that’s any comfort.”
A Chiropteran’s howl sounded from above.
“Most got taken out in the First Invasion, though. And if that wasn’t enough, the Second Invasion was worse. It’s been a few years since we got any hint on Diva’s location.”
Saya gripped Haji’s hand tightly.
“Diva,” she whispered, feeling her muscles tighten at every word.
“Most of us are doing okay, though. But it’s a shame,” Jahana continued, revving her car without looking at the stop sign. A mail box skidded as she hit it forcefully, but it had already been crunched and left lying on the road. “About Nahabi and Javier. After he tried to raise them in a peaceful environment. Not to make fighters out of them. It’s really stupid. I wouldn’t have allowed it, except they really wanted to.”
Empty buildings flashed by.
“Javier still has that teddy bear you gave her.” Jahana threw back a kind look, as her car smashed into a broken sign post, tearing it down and flinging it across the street.
“Ja-Jahana-san—“
“Oh, we’re there.” Jahana climbed out. “Mah, Lewis always drives my car badly. Look how many dents he got in it.” She kicked her bumper, and then pocketed her car keys.
Haji helped Saya out of the car, and she stretched her legs as she stared at the broken sign of the Omoro. It still looked relatively the same, though covered in smog, and it only spelled Omo now. But Jahana strode purposefully inside, opening the door, and nodding for Saya to enter.
She hesitantly did, surprised to find it was mostly the same. The counter where she did her homework—the tables that were once full of people—the lion, though its head was broken off now.
“They’re downstairs.”
“Omoro doesn’t have a downstairs,” Saya began, and watched as Jahana whacked the lion statue. Slowly, a part of the floor opened downwards.
“Does now,” Jahana said shortly, and trooped downstairs accordingly. Saya followed, gripping her sword tighter.
To her surprise, it lead to an elegant hallway, which operated on candlelight. Though there were many doors, Jahana expertly knocked on one of the many.
“It’s me,” she called. “I have Saya.”
The door immediately swung open.
Hesitantly, Saya entered the room, gripping her sword to her. And blinked. There was the familiar round table, and at the other end, Joel, older now, much older, but still with a small smile and his golden pocketwatch on the table.
“J-Joel—“
Then she recognized the men standing beside him, who had been stooping over the papers. A particularly chubby man with sunglasses, though older—much older—sitting on a chair now—though still munching—Lewis. And the woman, wrinkles on her furrowed face, but with the same sharpness of eyes and her long hair mingled with white strands, still dressed in a lab coat—Julia.
There was another man and another woman there, but Saya did not recognize them.
“Lewis, Julia,” she managed before she found herself in a hug. Jahana had impulsively pulled her towards her.
“She’s back. She’s really back,” Jahana said. Saya was careful not to press on the camera.
“Saya—“
“It’s been too long,” Julia cut in.
“That doesn’t seem appropriate,” Lewis said, munching as always. Julia struggled to get out of her seat, but Saya immediately rushed to her side.
“Please sit down, Julia-san,” Saya said anxiously.
“As always, Saya,” Julia said, with a hint of a smile on her lips. “Ah, you might not recognize the other members of the Red Shield. This is Nahabi and Javier.”
Saya looked at them, wonderingly. Nahabi had grown to about Kai’s height, still with the mischievious smile and wide eyes. He wore a casual short shirt and jeans, reminding her of Kai’s way of dressing. But he shook her hand firmly, and looked her in the eye.
“Saya,” he said, “I still remember you when we were little.” Then he broke into a sheepish grin. “I guess I was a handful back then.”
“A really big handful,” Javier chimed in, leaning in to shake hands with Saya as well. She was a pretty girl, still wearing long pigtails, but with a firmer mouth and a better stature.
“I . . . I remember you,” she said. And then she drew back. “Why are you fighting?” The question came out harsher than she had hoped. “The man who took care of you—he said he didn’t—“
“He died,” Nahabi said quietly.
“Protecting us,” Javier said, looking down.
“But—“
“Saya,” Joel said, “Are you still confused about the events that occurred after your sleep?” His eyes were still as kind as ever.
“. . . I didn’t kill Diva.” She stared down at her own hands. “I . . . failed.”
“Don’t put it like that—“ Nahabi burst out violently, but Javier gave him a sad look, and he quieted reluctantly.
“It’s not your fault, Saya,” Julia said. “But yes, Diva did indeed survive, with her twins. Jahana was kind enough to provide reports for us.”
“Joel wrote about it in his diary, too,” Jahana added, twirling her hair whimsically. “But I guess you can guess what happened. Diva lived and took her two babies with her to some unknown location. For the next five years, we tried to discover it while secretly putting Red Shield bases on all the continents.”
“That night was called the First Invasion,” Joel said. His eyes looked unhappy, still mourning for those lost on the day. “Back then, they called it the Apocolypse.”
“Those who were lucky to survive,” Julia said quietly, looking at the statistics on her laptop, “lived underneath the ground, in their basements, or in secluded areas. Even today, there are still safe locations, which we call hotspots. For example, even a Chiropteran would find it difficult to travel to the middle of a forest, or on the highest peaks of the mountains.”
“But where it could broadcast, the government did broadcast. There were some small plans of attack,” Joel said, “but all failed.”
“Five more years, and then there came the Second Invasion. I guess that Amshel guy wanted to test out his new theory, except these Chiropteran were even more deadly. More people got wiped out,” Jahana said bitterly, “and it was a massacre.”
“The Red Shield had a major setback,” Joel said.
“The government used to have some semblance of power,” Jahana said, “when Amshel still toyed with them and improved the Schiff.”
“Now they have none,” Nahabi said bitterly. “So it’s mostly just us, on the streets.”
“The streets,” Javier echoed.
“The regular Chiropterans,” Jahana continued, “are basically just the aftermath. But since they have Diva’s blood, they live for a long time. The Schiff are really the ones to watch out for. Even Julia’s special bullets don’t work as well.”
“Bullets,” Julia said kindly, “with your enzyme.”
“But there has to be some way to defeat them,” Jahana said fiercely, “because, or else, why weren’t there Chiropterans before, right?”
There was a small silence in the room.
It was her fault. Guilt swam around her, as she gripped her sword. The number of deaths on her shoulder made her ache, and she trembled. Despite herself, tears spilled from her eyes, thinking—thinking about the people dead—thinking it—she had fallen asleep for thirty years, and failed—she had failed, and—
“It’s not your fault,” Jahana said sharply.
Haji gripped Saya’s shoulder as well.
“No,” Saya murmured.
“What’d you say?” Jahana leaned in closer.
“No,” she said sharply, leaping up. “It’s—it’s my fault. I—I will—I will do—“ She gripped her sword, head spinning. She turned, ready to leave the room.
“Hey,” Jahana said, taking her hand with a jerk. “Hey, stop that. What are you going to do? Recklessly kill every Chiroptera in your sight? That might have worked before, but now, we have to make a plan. With everyone. There’s just too many to do that now.”
“No,” she said helplessly, “I—I was the one who got you into danger, and—“
“Even if we stay here,” Jahana said, “We’re just going to get attacked.”
“That’s right,” Julia interrupted. “Besides, Saya.” She put on her glasses and stood up. “We need to examine you.”
Saya’s head swam, and she gripped Haji’s sleeve. She could feel him beside her, still standing tall. And she could breathe his scent, something so old and nostalgic, and familiar. Julia gently touched Saya’s shoulder before standing by the doorway, beckoning her to come.
“Wait,” Saya said reluctantly. “Where’s—Where’s David?”
Julia’s face tightened, and softened. “An attack,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “left him severely injured. And he’s old, like us. He suffers from memory lapses, and his joints aren’t as they used to be.”
“But he’s David the Invincible,” Lewis said, finishing off his donuts. “He just rests longer before fighting now.”
“And—and Okamura?” Saya looked at Jahana, whose face suddenly became tense. Her hand flew up to her camera protectively, and she looked away. Her chin was set strongly, and Saya felt a sinking, horrible feeling about the rugged cameraman who had smiled at every turn.
“Missing in action,” Joel finally said, softly, his voice resounding in the room. “Presumed dead.”
“Stupid old man,” Jahana said loudly. “Always trying to get a scoop, trying to find out more information. He was stupid.” She stormed out of the room, pushing by Saya to get past. But Saya could see that Jahana’s eyes were glittering, and outside, she was already rubbing her face as she stormed further down the hallway.
“No,” Saya said. “No . . . “
Pain jutted into her heart, and she looked at Haji, and then at everybody. And noticed that in particular, Nahabi and Javier were refusing to meet their eyes. Suddenly, a desperateness gripped her heart, and she slammed her hands onto the table.
“Monique died protecting us, too,” Nahabi said crudely, but she knew that he had thrown it out as a defensive maneuver. The news about Monique stabbed into her heart, but her eyes were still wild.
“Kai,” she said, almost crying. “Kai, what about Kai?” The scent of summer was not in the room. She wanted to hear that he was away on a mission. She wanted to hear that he was resting. She wanted to hear that he was alive and well.
“He’s—“ Javier started in a quavering voice.
“He’s not here,” Nahabi said sharply. His face was defiant, and he stared at the blank wall, with some hidden emotion behind his face.
“Is he . . . alive . . . ?”
But she felt Julia’s touch on her arm, and saw the former children’s faces harden, and knew she would receive no answer from them.
.chapter two: david the invincible
Clickity clack clack.
She had grown up in a small town, but her childhood remained fuzzy, as if memories could not pave the way. She could only remember her prom, where she had chosen a particularly pretty red dress that matched her eyes, but her date disappeared for the last half, and did not seem to notice her at all. Even after that, she was the designated driver.
But she had great talent in the field of science, and worked through her years of university where she had met Professor Collins.
Her typing slowed.
The best years, though, was working with David. His name hadn’t always been David, like Lewis had not always been Lewis. Such was the life of the CIA. But names didn’t matter to her, as long as there was his face, strong and sturdy, with intense eyes.
She leaned back to light a cigarette.
“Julia.”
She paused, and then leaned back to draw away the yellow curtain.
David lay on the bed, blinking tiredly. It was a miracle that their aged bodies could even move, she mused, nevertheless to actually fight. Even Lewis did not actually do fieldwork anymore, mostly stationed for intelligence.
His face had so many wrinkles. “Where am I?” he asked tiredly.
“In the ward,” she said, leaning back to her laptop. “You were taking a rest.”
“I can’t stand these hospital beds,” he finally said. He struggled to sit up, and Julia moved to help him. “Julia, where’s Kai?”
So it would be one of those days.
“What do you mean?” she asked carefully, turning back to her laptop. She caught sight of her own aged reflection, and sadly touched her own wrinkles and crow’s eyes and gray hair. She had been beautiful, she supposed, a long time ago.
“Is he with Saya?”
“. . . Yes, David.”
“It was a mistake to take them on this ship.” David flexed his arm slowly. “We’ll drop them off somewhere.”
She knew this script. “Without any money?”
“We’ll leave them enough,” he said shortly. She had to smile to herself. He still had a soft spot for children, after all. Enough for a tank? She knew that the children could have lived half their lives without working with that type of money.
“It’s better for them not to get involved,” he said. “We only need Saya, the weapon. Where’s Lewis?”
Disconnected thoughts. She jotted it down in her notebook, as well, under his log. One day, she thought reflectively, she would need a log for herself. They were both old, and it was no longer the time to learn new tricks.
“In the kitchen,” she said, turning back. A howl of a Chiroptera echoed outside.
David grabbed at his shotgun, but Julia shook her head.
“That’s just an alarm,” she said.
“Sickening,” he said, but released his grip slowly. “We have to fight to stop Diva. To stop a world of Chiroptera.” His bright eyes darkened. Julia looked at her reflection, and lit her cigarette again. She breathed out the smoke, staring at the outside world. It was dark and gloomy.
“Yes, David.”
“I’ll go down to the kitchen, as well.”
“All right,” she said.
“Julia?”
“Yes?”
“That dress.” David seemed to struggle with his words, and then tightened his tie. “It looks very nice on you.” And then he disappeared from the room, the door swinging behind him.
Julia froze, some of her cigarette crumbling on her papers. And then she smiled to herself, and shuffled the papers again.
.chapter four; too late for sorry
“Haji,” Saya said. She could not see anything past the yellow curtain, as usual. Julia had disappeared to check on David. It hurt to see how everybody had aged. How much she had missed in her sleep. Had Julia always looked so old? When did those two children grow? Why had she remained unchanged, foolish, clumsy, as always?
“Yes?” He had a calm voice.
“Kai . . . “ She gripped her hand into a fist. “What happened?”
Silence.
Her brother. A long time ago, she had rejected that title, but now she held her family so close to her heart. Now that Riku was gone, as well—it was only Kai. At least he wasn’t dead, she thought. But maybe it was one of the as-good-as-dead cases, like Okamura.
She gritted her teeth.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Saya.” Julia opened the curtains. “How are you feeling?”
“It’s . . . I’m okay.” The heavy guilt weighed on her chest. She should have tried harder to stay awake. She knew it. But she had been so close to Diva, until she could see her sister’s wicked eyes, but the sleep had come too quickly.
“It’s good to see you again, Saya,” Julia said, smiling. She slowly walked to her chair. Saya watched her limping gait.
“We’ll be leaving tomorrow, if that’s not too early,” Julia said, peering over her glasses. “To the MET. It seems they’ve relocated their base there.” She frowned slightly.
“New York,” Saya said, and remembered the high ceilings, the plush chairs, the people, and how the sights all swam before her, as if she had been intoxicated. Her head swam. It seemed too short a time to take in everything. And the guilt—the Chiropterans, everywhere—people, so many dead. And she had been the one who released the lock.
The guilt squeezed her heart.
“Saya! Saya, Saya!” A familiar face peered forward. “Do you remember me?” Now Lulu had turned shy, the big-eyed girl with purple hair turning away slightly. She squeezed at the blood pack that she had been drinking.
“Lulu,” Saya said, trying to smile. “How are you?”
“I’m okay,” Lulu said, glancing at Haji. “Saya, they don’t have good television anymore. But Kai got me some video tapes once, so I re-watch them.”
“Kai?” Saya straightened. “Where is he now?”
“Kai?” Lulu opened her eyes wider. “Haji . . . “ She tugged at his sleeve. “Didn’t you tell her yet?”
“It was not the time,” he said simply.
“Haji—“
“We’re going to be packing,” Lulu said, hiding behind Haji. “So you should rest, too, Saya.”
She looked at Lulu. It seemed the girl had grown more frightened over her over the years. Then again, this seemed obvious. She felt like a stranger—no, she was a stranger. Thirty years had past since her failure, and she knew that no apologizes could make up for her error.
“All right,” she said. “Should I sleep here?”
“We’ve prepared a room for you,” Julia said, standing up. Saya followed her down the dark hallway, where the only lights were flickering lightbulbs—a miracle at all to have electricity—and wondered how long they had prepared a room for her. Years, she knew, waiting for her to awaken.
It was a mostly empty room, with only a single bed with worn covers and a window. There was a desk, and a few closed doors. There was a familiar scent in the room, though she could not pinpoint it directly. Sunflowers, perhaps.
“If you have any questions, I’ll be just down the hall,” Julia said, with a small smile. She closed the door quietly behind them.
Haji stood solitarily, cello case slung on his back as always. His solemn look fit the atmosphere in the dark room.
“Haji, why won’t you tell me about Kai?” she asked quietly. Another tug of guilt consumed her. Yet, it did not seem to fit his character. It seemed that everybody was holding back, even Jahana-san, who told her about everyone else. As if Haji had been designated the one to tell her. Even Lulu had looked at him.
Except he hadn’t told her. It almost felt like an act of betrayal. But some things had changed, she thought, from the last time she had seen him. No longer did he seem like an outcast, a shadow of herself. Instead, he seemed to be incorporated in their lifestyle, from Lulu looking up to him quizzically, or to Jahana scrunching him in the back of her car. At the last thought, Saya giggled.
“I’m sorry,” she said at his slightly curious look. “You just seemed so natural in Jahana-san’s car.”
He stared ahead, perhaps reminiscing about the terrible trip.
“Haji,” she said softly. “Will you at least tell me if Kai is alive?”
The cello tune began again. He was not ignoring her, or buying time to think. She could tell by his eyes that his hands had naturally moved, delicately dancing upon the strands. Though she turned to sit on the bed, back to Haji, she could feel his hands treating the cello as a part of him, and the tune sang beautifully yet sadly.
“He is somewhere on this land,” Haji said, the tune taking a dive and turning into a darker melody. Saya felt chills run down her spine. “He breathes the air that we do.”
“Why doesn’t anyone answer me?” she asked, gripping the yellow blankets underneath her hands. The worry had consumed her. The blame had consumed her. The looks they had given her were not the ones of hatred, but instead, of hope. She was not a hero. She was not a hope. She had caused this—but at the very least, she prayed, it had spared Kai.
“I had said,” Haji murmured, “to be the one to tell you.” His words were deliberate, each syllable hiding a sharpened edge, yet subtle all at the same time. This was unlike Haji.
“You’re not acting like yourself,” Saya said sharply, turning around. “Haji, please. Tell me, then. What happened to Kai?” The tune halted. “I order you.”
“Your wish,” he said, “is my command.”
“Haji . . . “ She disliked ordering him, and felt guilty the moment she had said it. “Are you not telling me because you know that it’d make me sad?” She crawled over the bed to rest her hand on his, softly. He did not look her in the eyes. “I’m fine, Haji. I’ll be fine. I need to know.”
Later, when she had time to reflect on his words, she wondered if her sadness had only been a part of it—and, in reality, Haji—Haji had been sad as well.
“Kai is still alive,” Haji said, looking down at his cello. His eyes seemed cold and distant. “But he lives as Diva’s Chevalier.”
.chapter five; some sort of happy
“How does it feel to not sleep?”
Haji halted in his practice, and looked up to see Kai hanging from the rails. Though he had grown up rapidly in the last few years, Kai still had a youthful look to him, and with the sun against his hair, it seemed that he was forever in the awkward teenage years, restless and energetic, with hopes and futures ahead.
It was, Haji presumed, different from him, who had lived for so many years without even the briefest sleep. The sights and sounds of the world were still embranded in his mind, as well as Saya’s face as she had traveled with him.
“It is,” Haji said, “the way of a Chevalier.”
“Aw, that stuff again.” Kai on the upper level propped his chin on the railing. “I guess it kinda sucks to be a Chevalier. Putting up with all that no-sleep, always fighting crap. But you get to protect Saya, anyway. Even when I’m dead and gone.”
“She will wake up in a few years.”
“By then, it’ll be lucky if David and Julia and Lewis are still alive,” Kai mused. “And then, after she sleeps another thirty years, it’d be lucky if I’m still alive.” A Chrioptera’s howl of pain rang out through the city. In the beginning, there had been only human screams, but those were few and in between now, for that would indicate life.
Seeing no need to continue the conversation, Haji began to play the cello again.
“You don’t like me, do you?”
Haji stopped. “We do not need to like each other to protect Saya.”
“That’s your way of saying yes, I guess. Don’t worry, I don’t like you either. You’re too stuck-up.” Kai slid down to the lower floor, jumping the last few feet safely. “But I guess you have the credentials to back them up.”
Kai sighed. “Yeah, you get to live to see Saya. For all the times she sleeps and wakes.” Haji kept his tongue about the promise he had made, on the moving train, so long ago. The memories were emblazoned deeply in his mind.
“But I wouldn’t be a Chevalier,” Kai said loudly, “Even if you gave me the world!” He crossed his arms and defiantly faced the sun. “I have to stay the same. For Saya’s sake.”
.prologue: awakening
The strings of a soft song from a cello wafted around the room. It was mournful, a sad tune.
She awoke slowly, wet and trembling, tears trickling down her face. Disoriented, she quietly clutched at herself, and glanced at where the song was coming from. In the corner of the structure, a familiar figure, clad in black, mournfully pulled at the strings.
Quietly, she watched him. With his bandaged hand, he pulled at the chords with slow emotion, fragile and sad. Leaning beside him was the katana, swathed in cloth. She sat up, her hair long again, flowing over her like a waterfall. The cello stopped, and she felt a heavy blanket wrapped around her.
“Saya,” he said. He gripped her gently, face close to hers, breathing for a few moments. Then he released her.
“. . . Haji?” No other person, she thought, would say her name in such a sad voice. Sleepily, she watched him stand again, and reach for his cello. His long hair gently framed his face, as he once again began the sad song.
Suddenly, she started, and grabbed her sword. “Diva--!”
The song stopped again. Gripping the blanket around her, she searched Haji’s face desperately. He looked away, unable to meet her eyes.
The door shifted, and Saya stared as an elegant young woman entered the room. She did not notice Saya at first, too busy staring at the papers she had in her hands.
“Bad news today, too, Haji. Russia’s a no-go, and the Red Shield was compromised in Australia. But! I tracked down a lead to their main base. Our next stop will be New York,” said the woman viciously, with a sharp smile. Saya stared at her, wondering when she had seen the familiar heart-shaped face, the bright brown eyes, and the general sturdiness of face.
A camera hung around her neck.
“MET, huh? They must have moved bases from Vietnam, just like Joel suspected. Maah, this life gets so tiring,” said the woman, slumping on the seat, papers still clutched in her hand. “I wonder how Okamura did it all, anyway. That’s why he took up cigarettes.”
“Okamura-san?”
The woman paused in the middle of reshuffling her papers and stared at her. And then she moved forward suddenly, though Haji only sat and watched. The woman inspected Saya with wide eyes, and then she gripped her shoulders tightly.
“It can’t be—Saya—“ The woman stared. “She’s awake. She’s awake! Haji, why didn’t you tell anyone?” She grimaced at him as she turned around, stomping her foot.
“You’re—“
“It’s me, Mao! Do you remember me?” Mao Jahana stared at her intensely, and then let out a small groan. “Oh, no, she’s an amnesiac again! I’ll have to call Joel, and—hey, this place doesn’t get good transmission. Hey, Haji, come here.”
Saya watched, her mouth slightly open, as Haji obediently bent to the ground and lifted his cello case. Jahana nearly strangled him as she climbed atop, grabbing Saya’s sword to connect to her phone as she dialed.
“It’s the waves,” she explained. “Saya . . . “ Now her eyes were filled with tears. “You’re awake.”
“Ah, y-yes.” Taken aback, Saya continued to stare. “Wa-wait, I didn’t forget you—“
“Re-really?” Jahana looked surprised. And then she smiled softly. “Yeah. Girls don’t forget each other. Oh! Oh, Joel, it’s me, Mao.”
Saya sat at her seat.
“Yeah—yeah—okay. Yes, I’ll send you the report via text. Right—right.”
“Jahana—Jahana-san—“
She hung up briskly and hopped off, tossing the sword back to Haji, who caught it without complaint.
“So much changed while you were asleep,” Jahana said, her eyes wide. “Omoro’s our place of operation now, and Joel’s such an old man. He had such a baby face. He still does, except it’s lined with wrinkles and gray hair now. Julia and Lewis still work there, but they mostly handle home operations now, since they’re getting older. But they were the ones who personally trained Nahabi and Javier, so I guess it’s all right.”
“Wai—wait—“
“Okinawa’s pretty safe, as things go. How’s your outfit?” She tsked under her tongue when she saw the state of Saya’s dress, and reached around her bag until she brought out a school uniform.
“Here, wear these. Haji, get out.”
“Saya . . . “
The entire situation seemed too familiar. “It’s all right,” Saya said helplessly, “I’ll join you in a bit.”
With another meaningful look, he left the room.
“Lulu’s still alive—but—“ Here she hesitated. “She contacted the Thorn. Even your enzymes are becoming inefficient, and Julia’s giving her larger and larger doses every week. It’s amazing she lived so far, though. She’s really cheerful, though. She says she’ll keep alive until you wake up.”
Saya finished dressing, staring down at the old-fashioned uniform.
“You really haven’t changed, have you,” Jahana said reproachfully, fluffing up Saya’s collar naturally. “All right, let’s go to Omoro. It should be pretty safe. I mean, we have Haji, after all.”
“Wait, Jahana-san, what happened to Diva?”
Jahana paused. “. . . Saya.” Now her voice softened. Then she sighed. “Go see for yourself.” She pointed the door.
Saya slowly walked to the door, head spinning. As she opened it, she first noticed it was a cloudy day. Haji stood outside, his face blank as always. She looked at him, and then she looked over the trees to the buildings.
And stopped, her breathing jerking badly.
The ruined buildings barely stood on the sky, many fallen and toppled. Smoke rose from the remnants of Okinawa, as Chiropterans raged against the city, haunting it, as if they owned the town. There even those that dared to fly, encircling the building repeatedly, a taunt. Even as she swayed, Haji caught her, so she could look down at the stone steps and could see old blood splashed onto the edges, and some steps even broken.
The world was bloody and broken.
The beautiful sea that she had seen, so long ago, riding on Kai’s bike, seemed stained with blood.
“I . . . I fell asleep,” she whispered, gripping Haji’s sleeve tightly. “Before I could defeat—defeat Diva—“
“It’s a world of Chiropterans now.” Jahana lighted up a cigarette. “I guess that’s the way it is.”
Saya stared, horrified, at the world she had created.
.chapter one: thirty years later
Flooring the small Beetle, Jahana drove recklessly down the street. Any traffic lights had long stopped functioning, and the car was too fast for most Chiropterans to follow. Jahana expertly entered a side street, where it seemed nobody—not even the Chriopterans—lingered.
Saya stared at the broken ruins of her school. She had once spent her days there, doing homework, the high jump, sports. Now it was empty and broken.
“Saya.”
She looked at Haji, who had taken her hand gently. His bandages gently grated across her skin, and his other hand felt tender against hers.
“It’s not as bad as it seems,” Jahana said, using her elbow to move her shotgun further into the passenger seat. The back of her car was filled with papers, though all clipped together neatly in folders and in boxes, so Saya had to sit on her legs, and Haji was in an awkward scrunched position.
“There are still people, if that’s any comfort.”
A Chiropteran’s howl sounded from above.
“Most got taken out in the First Invasion, though. And if that wasn’t enough, the Second Invasion was worse. It’s been a few years since we got any hint on Diva’s location.”
Saya gripped Haji’s hand tightly.
“Diva,” she whispered, feeling her muscles tighten at every word.
“Most of us are doing okay, though. But it’s a shame,” Jahana continued, revving her car without looking at the stop sign. A mail box skidded as she hit it forcefully, but it had already been crunched and left lying on the road. “About Nahabi and Javier. After he tried to raise them in a peaceful environment. Not to make fighters out of them. It’s really stupid. I wouldn’t have allowed it, except they really wanted to.”
Empty buildings flashed by.
“Javier still has that teddy bear you gave her.” Jahana threw back a kind look, as her car smashed into a broken sign post, tearing it down and flinging it across the street.
“Ja-Jahana-san—“
“Oh, we’re there.” Jahana climbed out. “Mah, Lewis always drives my car badly. Look how many dents he got in it.” She kicked her bumper, and then pocketed her car keys.
Haji helped Saya out of the car, and she stretched her legs as she stared at the broken sign of the Omoro. It still looked relatively the same, though covered in smog, and it only spelled Omo now. But Jahana strode purposefully inside, opening the door, and nodding for Saya to enter.
She hesitantly did, surprised to find it was mostly the same. The counter where she did her homework—the tables that were once full of people—the lion, though its head was broken off now.
“They’re downstairs.”
“Omoro doesn’t have a downstairs,” Saya began, and watched as Jahana whacked the lion statue. Slowly, a part of the floor opened downwards.
“Does now,” Jahana said shortly, and trooped downstairs accordingly. Saya followed, gripping her sword tighter.
To her surprise, it lead to an elegant hallway, which operated on candlelight. Though there were many doors, Jahana expertly knocked on one of the many.
“It’s me,” she called. “I have Saya.”
The door immediately swung open.
Hesitantly, Saya entered the room, gripping her sword to her. And blinked. There was the familiar round table, and at the other end, Joel, older now, much older, but still with a small smile and his golden pocketwatch on the table.
“J-Joel—“
Then she recognized the men standing beside him, who had been stooping over the papers. A particularly chubby man with sunglasses, though older—much older—sitting on a chair now—though still munching—Lewis. And the woman, wrinkles on her furrowed face, but with the same sharpness of eyes and her long hair mingled with white strands, still dressed in a lab coat—Julia.
There was another man and another woman there, but Saya did not recognize them.
“Lewis, Julia,” she managed before she found herself in a hug. Jahana had impulsively pulled her towards her.
“She’s back. She’s really back,” Jahana said. Saya was careful not to press on the camera.
“Saya—“
“It’s been too long,” Julia cut in.
“That doesn’t seem appropriate,” Lewis said, munching as always. Julia struggled to get out of her seat, but Saya immediately rushed to her side.
“Please sit down, Julia-san,” Saya said anxiously.
“As always, Saya,” Julia said, with a hint of a smile on her lips. “Ah, you might not recognize the other members of the Red Shield. This is Nahabi and Javier.”
Saya looked at them, wonderingly. Nahabi had grown to about Kai’s height, still with the mischievious smile and wide eyes. He wore a casual short shirt and jeans, reminding her of Kai’s way of dressing. But he shook her hand firmly, and looked her in the eye.
“Saya,” he said, “I still remember you when we were little.” Then he broke into a sheepish grin. “I guess I was a handful back then.”
“A really big handful,” Javier chimed in, leaning in to shake hands with Saya as well. She was a pretty girl, still wearing long pigtails, but with a firmer mouth and a better stature.
“I . . . I remember you,” she said. And then she drew back. “Why are you fighting?” The question came out harsher than she had hoped. “The man who took care of you—he said he didn’t—“
“He died,” Nahabi said quietly.
“Protecting us,” Javier said, looking down.
“But—“
“Saya,” Joel said, “Are you still confused about the events that occurred after your sleep?” His eyes were still as kind as ever.
“. . . I didn’t kill Diva.” She stared down at her own hands. “I . . . failed.”
“Don’t put it like that—“ Nahabi burst out violently, but Javier gave him a sad look, and he quieted reluctantly.
“It’s not your fault, Saya,” Julia said. “But yes, Diva did indeed survive, with her twins. Jahana was kind enough to provide reports for us.”
“Joel wrote about it in his diary, too,” Jahana added, twirling her hair whimsically. “But I guess you can guess what happened. Diva lived and took her two babies with her to some unknown location. For the next five years, we tried to discover it while secretly putting Red Shield bases on all the continents.”
“That night was called the First Invasion,” Joel said. His eyes looked unhappy, still mourning for those lost on the day. “Back then, they called it the Apocolypse.”
“Those who were lucky to survive,” Julia said quietly, looking at the statistics on her laptop, “lived underneath the ground, in their basements, or in secluded areas. Even today, there are still safe locations, which we call hotspots. For example, even a Chiropteran would find it difficult to travel to the middle of a forest, or on the highest peaks of the mountains.”
“But where it could broadcast, the government did broadcast. There were some small plans of attack,” Joel said, “but all failed.”
“Five more years, and then there came the Second Invasion. I guess that Amshel guy wanted to test out his new theory, except these Chiropteran were even more deadly. More people got wiped out,” Jahana said bitterly, “and it was a massacre.”
“The Red Shield had a major setback,” Joel said.
“The government used to have some semblance of power,” Jahana said, “when Amshel still toyed with them and improved the Schiff.”
“Now they have none,” Nahabi said bitterly. “So it’s mostly just us, on the streets.”
“The streets,” Javier echoed.
“The regular Chiropterans,” Jahana continued, “are basically just the aftermath. But since they have Diva’s blood, they live for a long time. The Schiff are really the ones to watch out for. Even Julia’s special bullets don’t work as well.”
“Bullets,” Julia said kindly, “with your enzyme.”
“But there has to be some way to defeat them,” Jahana said fiercely, “because, or else, why weren’t there Chiropterans before, right?”
There was a small silence in the room.
It was her fault. Guilt swam around her, as she gripped her sword. The number of deaths on her shoulder made her ache, and she trembled. Despite herself, tears spilled from her eyes, thinking—thinking about the people dead—thinking it—she had fallen asleep for thirty years, and failed—she had failed, and—
“It’s not your fault,” Jahana said sharply.
Haji gripped Saya’s shoulder as well.
“No,” Saya murmured.
“What’d you say?” Jahana leaned in closer.
“No,” she said sharply, leaping up. “It’s—it’s my fault. I—I will—I will do—“ She gripped her sword, head spinning. She turned, ready to leave the room.
“Hey,” Jahana said, taking her hand with a jerk. “Hey, stop that. What are you going to do? Recklessly kill every Chiroptera in your sight? That might have worked before, but now, we have to make a plan. With everyone. There’s just too many to do that now.”
“No,” she said helplessly, “I—I was the one who got you into danger, and—“
“Even if we stay here,” Jahana said, “We’re just going to get attacked.”
“That’s right,” Julia interrupted. “Besides, Saya.” She put on her glasses and stood up. “We need to examine you.”
Saya’s head swam, and she gripped Haji’s sleeve. She could feel him beside her, still standing tall. And she could breathe his scent, something so old and nostalgic, and familiar. Julia gently touched Saya’s shoulder before standing by the doorway, beckoning her to come.
“Wait,” Saya said reluctantly. “Where’s—Where’s David?”
Julia’s face tightened, and softened. “An attack,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “left him severely injured. And he’s old, like us. He suffers from memory lapses, and his joints aren’t as they used to be.”
“But he’s David the Invincible,” Lewis said, finishing off his donuts. “He just rests longer before fighting now.”
“And—and Okamura?” Saya looked at Jahana, whose face suddenly became tense. Her hand flew up to her camera protectively, and she looked away. Her chin was set strongly, and Saya felt a sinking, horrible feeling about the rugged cameraman who had smiled at every turn.
“Missing in action,” Joel finally said, softly, his voice resounding in the room. “Presumed dead.”
“Stupid old man,” Jahana said loudly. “Always trying to get a scoop, trying to find out more information. He was stupid.” She stormed out of the room, pushing by Saya to get past. But Saya could see that Jahana’s eyes were glittering, and outside, she was already rubbing her face as she stormed further down the hallway.
“No,” Saya said. “No . . . “
Pain jutted into her heart, and she looked at Haji, and then at everybody. And noticed that in particular, Nahabi and Javier were refusing to meet their eyes. Suddenly, a desperateness gripped her heart, and she slammed her hands onto the table.
“Monique died protecting us, too,” Nahabi said crudely, but she knew that he had thrown it out as a defensive maneuver. The news about Monique stabbed into her heart, but her eyes were still wild.
“Kai,” she said, almost crying. “Kai, what about Kai?” The scent of summer was not in the room. She wanted to hear that he was away on a mission. She wanted to hear that he was resting. She wanted to hear that he was alive and well.
“He’s—“ Javier started in a quavering voice.
“He’s not here,” Nahabi said sharply. His face was defiant, and he stared at the blank wall, with some hidden emotion behind his face.
“Is he . . . alive . . . ?”
But she felt Julia’s touch on her arm, and saw the former children’s faces harden, and knew she would receive no answer from them.
.chapter two: david the invincible
Clickity clack clack.
She had grown up in a small town, but her childhood remained fuzzy, as if memories could not pave the way. She could only remember her prom, where she had chosen a particularly pretty red dress that matched her eyes, but her date disappeared for the last half, and did not seem to notice her at all. Even after that, she was the designated driver.
But she had great talent in the field of science, and worked through her years of university where she had met Professor Collins.
Her typing slowed.
The best years, though, was working with David. His name hadn’t always been David, like Lewis had not always been Lewis. Such was the life of the CIA. But names didn’t matter to her, as long as there was his face, strong and sturdy, with intense eyes.
She leaned back to light a cigarette.
“Julia.”
She paused, and then leaned back to draw away the yellow curtain.
David lay on the bed, blinking tiredly. It was a miracle that their aged bodies could even move, she mused, nevertheless to actually fight. Even Lewis did not actually do fieldwork anymore, mostly stationed for intelligence.
His face had so many wrinkles. “Where am I?” he asked tiredly.
“In the ward,” she said, leaning back to her laptop. “You were taking a rest.”
“I can’t stand these hospital beds,” he finally said. He struggled to sit up, and Julia moved to help him. “Julia, where’s Kai?”
So it would be one of those days.
“What do you mean?” she asked carefully, turning back to her laptop. She caught sight of her own aged reflection, and sadly touched her own wrinkles and crow’s eyes and gray hair. She had been beautiful, she supposed, a long time ago.
“Is he with Saya?”
“. . . Yes, David.”
“It was a mistake to take them on this ship.” David flexed his arm slowly. “We’ll drop them off somewhere.”
She knew this script. “Without any money?”
“We’ll leave them enough,” he said shortly. She had to smile to herself. He still had a soft spot for children, after all. Enough for a tank? She knew that the children could have lived half their lives without working with that type of money.
“It’s better for them not to get involved,” he said. “We only need Saya, the weapon. Where’s Lewis?”
Disconnected thoughts. She jotted it down in her notebook, as well, under his log. One day, she thought reflectively, she would need a log for herself. They were both old, and it was no longer the time to learn new tricks.
“In the kitchen,” she said, turning back. A howl of a Chiroptera echoed outside.
David grabbed at his shotgun, but Julia shook her head.
“That’s just an alarm,” she said.
“Sickening,” he said, but released his grip slowly. “We have to fight to stop Diva. To stop a world of Chiroptera.” His bright eyes darkened. Julia looked at her reflection, and lit her cigarette again. She breathed out the smoke, staring at the outside world. It was dark and gloomy.
“Yes, David.”
“I’ll go down to the kitchen, as well.”
“All right,” she said.
“Julia?”
“Yes?”
“That dress.” David seemed to struggle with his words, and then tightened his tie. “It looks very nice on you.” And then he disappeared from the room, the door swinging behind him.
Julia froze, some of her cigarette crumbling on her papers. And then she smiled to herself, and shuffled the papers again.
.chapter four; too late for sorry
“Haji,” Saya said. She could not see anything past the yellow curtain, as usual. Julia had disappeared to check on David. It hurt to see how everybody had aged. How much she had missed in her sleep. Had Julia always looked so old? When did those two children grow? Why had she remained unchanged, foolish, clumsy, as always?
“Yes?” He had a calm voice.
“Kai . . . “ She gripped her hand into a fist. “What happened?”
Silence.
Her brother. A long time ago, she had rejected that title, but now she held her family so close to her heart. Now that Riku was gone, as well—it was only Kai. At least he wasn’t dead, she thought. But maybe it was one of the as-good-as-dead cases, like Okamura.
She gritted her teeth.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Saya.” Julia opened the curtains. “How are you feeling?”
“It’s . . . I’m okay.” The heavy guilt weighed on her chest. She should have tried harder to stay awake. She knew it. But she had been so close to Diva, until she could see her sister’s wicked eyes, but the sleep had come too quickly.
“It’s good to see you again, Saya,” Julia said, smiling. She slowly walked to her chair. Saya watched her limping gait.
“We’ll be leaving tomorrow, if that’s not too early,” Julia said, peering over her glasses. “To the MET. It seems they’ve relocated their base there.” She frowned slightly.
“New York,” Saya said, and remembered the high ceilings, the plush chairs, the people, and how the sights all swam before her, as if she had been intoxicated. Her head swam. It seemed too short a time to take in everything. And the guilt—the Chiropterans, everywhere—people, so many dead. And she had been the one who released the lock.
The guilt squeezed her heart.
“Saya! Saya, Saya!” A familiar face peered forward. “Do you remember me?” Now Lulu had turned shy, the big-eyed girl with purple hair turning away slightly. She squeezed at the blood pack that she had been drinking.
“Lulu,” Saya said, trying to smile. “How are you?”
“I’m okay,” Lulu said, glancing at Haji. “Saya, they don’t have good television anymore. But Kai got me some video tapes once, so I re-watch them.”
“Kai?” Saya straightened. “Where is he now?”
“Kai?” Lulu opened her eyes wider. “Haji . . . “ She tugged at his sleeve. “Didn’t you tell her yet?”
“It was not the time,” he said simply.
“Haji—“
“We’re going to be packing,” Lulu said, hiding behind Haji. “So you should rest, too, Saya.”
She looked at Lulu. It seemed the girl had grown more frightened over her over the years. Then again, this seemed obvious. She felt like a stranger—no, she was a stranger. Thirty years had past since her failure, and she knew that no apologizes could make up for her error.
“All right,” she said. “Should I sleep here?”
“We’ve prepared a room for you,” Julia said, standing up. Saya followed her down the dark hallway, where the only lights were flickering lightbulbs—a miracle at all to have electricity—and wondered how long they had prepared a room for her. Years, she knew, waiting for her to awaken.
It was a mostly empty room, with only a single bed with worn covers and a window. There was a desk, and a few closed doors. There was a familiar scent in the room, though she could not pinpoint it directly. Sunflowers, perhaps.
“If you have any questions, I’ll be just down the hall,” Julia said, with a small smile. She closed the door quietly behind them.
Haji stood solitarily, cello case slung on his back as always. His solemn look fit the atmosphere in the dark room.
“Haji, why won’t you tell me about Kai?” she asked quietly. Another tug of guilt consumed her. Yet, it did not seem to fit his character. It seemed that everybody was holding back, even Jahana-san, who told her about everyone else. As if Haji had been designated the one to tell her. Even Lulu had looked at him.
Except he hadn’t told her. It almost felt like an act of betrayal. But some things had changed, she thought, from the last time she had seen him. No longer did he seem like an outcast, a shadow of herself. Instead, he seemed to be incorporated in their lifestyle, from Lulu looking up to him quizzically, or to Jahana scrunching him in the back of her car. At the last thought, Saya giggled.
“I’m sorry,” she said at his slightly curious look. “You just seemed so natural in Jahana-san’s car.”
He stared ahead, perhaps reminiscing about the terrible trip.
“Haji,” she said softly. “Will you at least tell me if Kai is alive?”
The cello tune began again. He was not ignoring her, or buying time to think. She could tell by his eyes that his hands had naturally moved, delicately dancing upon the strands. Though she turned to sit on the bed, back to Haji, she could feel his hands treating the cello as a part of him, and the tune sang beautifully yet sadly.
“He is somewhere on this land,” Haji said, the tune taking a dive and turning into a darker melody. Saya felt chills run down her spine. “He breathes the air that we do.”
“Why doesn’t anyone answer me?” she asked, gripping the yellow blankets underneath her hands. The worry had consumed her. The blame had consumed her. The looks they had given her were not the ones of hatred, but instead, of hope. She was not a hero. She was not a hope. She had caused this—but at the very least, she prayed, it had spared Kai.
“I had said,” Haji murmured, “to be the one to tell you.” His words were deliberate, each syllable hiding a sharpened edge, yet subtle all at the same time. This was unlike Haji.
“You’re not acting like yourself,” Saya said sharply, turning around. “Haji, please. Tell me, then. What happened to Kai?” The tune halted. “I order you.”
“Your wish,” he said, “is my command.”
“Haji . . . “ She disliked ordering him, and felt guilty the moment she had said it. “Are you not telling me because you know that it’d make me sad?” She crawled over the bed to rest her hand on his, softly. He did not look her in the eyes. “I’m fine, Haji. I’ll be fine. I need to know.”
Later, when she had time to reflect on his words, she wondered if her sadness had only been a part of it—and, in reality, Haji—Haji had been sad as well.
“Kai is still alive,” Haji said, looking down at his cello. His eyes seemed cold and distant. “But he lives as Diva’s Chevalier.”
.chapter five; some sort of happy
“How does it feel to not sleep?”
Haji halted in his practice, and looked up to see Kai hanging from the rails. Though he had grown up rapidly in the last few years, Kai still had a youthful look to him, and with the sun against his hair, it seemed that he was forever in the awkward teenage years, restless and energetic, with hopes and futures ahead.
It was, Haji presumed, different from him, who had lived for so many years without even the briefest sleep. The sights and sounds of the world were still embranded in his mind, as well as Saya’s face as she had traveled with him.
“It is,” Haji said, “the way of a Chevalier.”
“Aw, that stuff again.” Kai on the upper level propped his chin on the railing. “I guess it kinda sucks to be a Chevalier. Putting up with all that no-sleep, always fighting crap. But you get to protect Saya, anyway. Even when I’m dead and gone.”
“She will wake up in a few years.”
“By then, it’ll be lucky if David and Julia and Lewis are still alive,” Kai mused. “And then, after she sleeps another thirty years, it’d be lucky if I’m still alive.” A Chrioptera’s howl of pain rang out through the city. In the beginning, there had been only human screams, but those were few and in between now, for that would indicate life.
Seeing no need to continue the conversation, Haji began to play the cello again.
“You don’t like me, do you?”
Haji stopped. “We do not need to like each other to protect Saya.”
“That’s your way of saying yes, I guess. Don’t worry, I don’t like you either. You’re too stuck-up.” Kai slid down to the lower floor, jumping the last few feet safely. “But I guess you have the credentials to back them up.”
Kai sighed. “Yeah, you get to live to see Saya. For all the times she sleeps and wakes.” Haji kept his tongue about the promise he had made, on the moving train, so long ago. The memories were emblazoned deeply in his mind.
“But I wouldn’t be a Chevalier,” Kai said loudly, “Even if you gave me the world!” He crossed his arms and defiantly faced the sun. “I have to stay the same. For Saya’s sake.”