Another username change: this is jesska-chan/savefakir. I hope no one panicked.
The title of this one was liberated with the best of intent from (surprise!) Virgil.
But, ah! what use of valour can be made,
When heav'n's propitious pow'rs refuse their aid!
(or, Sad to say, even trust in Heaven is forbidden when Heaven itself declines the trust.)
What Use of Valour
It was a dark and stormy night. One of the proverbial, over-exaggerated ones, that rattled the windowpanes and struck fear into the hearts of the naïve and the excessively imaginative, and inspired lots of disconsolate poetry. One of the ones that'd prevent any reasonable person from sleeping very much. It was satisfyingly dramatic.
Of course, when one was living such a night in the grounds of a big, old, distinctly sinister castle, that made it all the more interesting.
Even if, to be fair, the particular sort of 'interesting' was not a very good one.
Cross shivered and turned away from the window, looking over the room with the air of someone taking charge. Seven eyes looked back at him.
"Comrades," he said, in a manner which exceeded even his usual theatrics. He supposed quietly to himself that calling them all comrades was something of a stretch, but it was the best he could think of. "I've a rather bad feeling about this." He supplemented his announcement with a definite turning down of the mouth, which over the years he'd learned could instil dejection in anyone.
His closest comrade raised his one visible eyebrow. "About the weather?" he asked, with the cynical disdain at which he was so impressively accomplished.
Cross gestured with great flourish. "About the weather and everything included therein," he declared. "About the howling gale and the flash of the lightning and the clamorous, resounding crash of the thunder, and the effect it might have on poor, young, innocent souls."
The eyebrow stayed where it was, and the look in the eye developed an edge of profound derision.
"And the fact," Cross finished, "that said poor, young, innocent souls are in this office at the same time as you and Kiryuu-kun."
There was a brief but promising pause.
"You're missing something," Yagari said.
Dearest Yuuki, from her spot on the desk, spoke up. "We're not poor, young, innocent souls," she said disapprovingly. Wakaba Sayori, that most sensible-looking of sensible-looking girls, nodded in agreement.
Cross sighed. Such a battle life was. He'd surrounded himself with people who clearly didn't understand him in the slightest, and while they were perfectly decent people, make no mistakes about that (even if a couple of them were deeply suspicious of every word he said), they were not exactly the four people he'd have chosen to be stuck in his office with during a very substantial thunderstorm.
He could but wish that fate might have treated him a little better. The two vampire hunters (his real comrades, those, Yagari and Kiryuu-kun) had been in his office in the first place, for a discussion of Very Important Vampire Hunting Matters, which had consisted mostly of the other two saying unrepeatable things about the Association, but that wasn't the point: anyway, Yuuki and Sayori had arrived in search of Kiryuu-kun, and then the first drop of rain had fallen …
… and it was all downhill from there.
The wind had howled and the windows had quivered and the door had slammed shut in a way which was usually only occurrent in nightmares and wild imaginings. Sayori had jumped just a couple of centimetres in the air, and looked around frantically for a moment. Yuuki had given a very timorous whimper, and (in a vastly disappointing fashion) Yagari and Kiryuu-kun had not so much as blinked.
Cross, as previously mentioned, had been assailed by a rather bad feeling.
Under any normal circumstances, by which is meant those not involving big, old, distinctly sinister castles, a storm such as this would be merely a trifle, something to note with vague interest and ignore in favour of work or sleep. Cross was quite sure that any normal circumstances would be markedly preferable circumstances, but he has the general good sense to have learned by now that, at his Academy, no circumstances can truthfully be called normal.
It was a pity, really. This appeared to be shaping up rather badly, and the awful thing about it was that he wasn't sure that any of the others agreed with him. Yagari certainly did not, because agreement with Cross isn't something at which he is particularly proficient; Kiryuu-kun would without doubt take Yagari's side; and Yuuki and Sayori regrettably had little idea of just how grave this was.
For shame. This required action!
Cross ignored everything that had just been said to him. "This storm," he said, lowering his voice so as to add to the general atmosphere of mild dread (that's what he was going for, anyway), "is one of those ones. In which bad things come, and bad things happen." He leaned back against the windowsill, folding his arms across his chest in an extremely self-satisfied fashion. "I have immeasurable experience with these things. I would know."
Yuuki looked marginally more troubled than she had before. "Bad things?" she asked, and there was but a hint of a tremor to her voice.
Kiryuu-kun snorted very derisively. "Bad things," he said, "like vampires?" He made it a challenge, raising his eyebrows in a commendable demonstration of adolescent rebellion.
"Exactly like vampires," Yagari agreed vaguely, twirling a pen around his fingers. "The Night Class are going to come and eat us, just you wait…"
Like it or not, he'd just hit on the fundamental point. No matter that he was entirely unconvinced.
"Exactly," Cross said.
Yagari put the pen down. "Here we go," he said with agonising derision. He and Kiryuu-kun exchanged a look which said something like, Ready, on three, you hold him still and I'll kick him in the head.
Cross gallantly ignored them. "Has the gravity of this situation occurred to none of you?" He was quite concerned with this whole thing, really, because if any of them came to any kind of harm because of this it would likely be all his fault. And that would complicate his life in ways he did not wish at all.
"Well, it is a pretty big storm," Yuuki said thoughtfully.
Dearest Yuuki. She was always so brilliantly perceptive.
"And," Cross said, "it just so happens that we are, at this very moment, in a school also inhabited by—and positively swarming with—malicious, blood-sucking fiends."
Yagari and Kiryuu-kun looked positively mutinous, as much as they could while at the same time pretending they didn't at all care.
Undeterred, Cross went on. "And these creatures," he said, "these pallid, shadowy dwellers of the night, they are most at home in storms like this. It's harder to be seen, this way, and they will slither from their dormitory in the barest rustle of leaves, and come seeking, searching for our blood, and will with the flash of bright red eyes devour anything in their path." He paused for dramatic effect. "It's quite simple really."
"Rubbish," Yuuki said. "Kaname-senpai's far too dignified to slither anywhere."
That was quite obviously not the point. Cross told her so.
"Then what is?" asked Kiryuu-kun, looking thoroughly dissatisfied with life in general. (No different from usual, at least.)
Cross gestured widely. "That the vampires are out! And that we are far from safe, and in the interests of maintaining what little security we have, we ought to stay here and wait until the storm passes."
The general response he got was something along the lines of, Surely you're not serious.
It was alright. Cross was used to that. He got it all the time.
He stood and waited for the message to really sink in. They'd come round, see, they'd realise the danger they were in. And when they did, they would praise and thank him for securing their safety. It was only a matter of time.
In the meantime, Yagari stole an unfinished report from Cross' desk and began to continue it (at least that's what Cross hoped he was doing with it), Kiryuu-kun put his head back, closed his eyes and proceeded to appear to be trying to fall asleep, and Yuuki and Sayori looked around like they were waiting for something to happen.
Too right. They were waiting for the definitive moment to say that they were in fact in Big Trouble and that Cross was going to be the one to get them out of it. Cross fancied that said definitive moment would be any minute now.
"So," Yagari said several minutes later (none of said minutes had been the right one for the definitive moment). "You're saying that, if we don't want to end up murdered and mutilated and all those things vampires like to do, we should stay in here to keep safe until they go away."
"Yes," Cross said. He wondered how many times he'd have to explain this.
"Can I just ask," Yagari said, replacing the piece of paperwork he'd liberated and commandeering another, "why?"
Cross could for a second think of absolutely nothing to say. He'd expect this maybe from one of the girls, those poor, innocent, untainted girls—but Yagari, questioning his motivation? Yagari, the top-ranked vampire hunter, who had proved his intelligence and skill to the Association time and time again? It was unthinkable!
"Because it is by far the safest course of action," Cross said. "We could not possibly leave this place, not when we could be snuck up on and violently assailed and exsanguinated before we have the chance to wonder where they came from."
"I don't know," Kiryuu-kun said, having temporarily abandoned his intent to sleep. (Apparently questioning Cross' idea was much more interesting. Of course.) "That seems a little harsh, even for them. You'd think they'd buy us a drink first."
On Kiryuu-kun's face at that very moment was the most awful expression of derision and sarcasm and teenage superiority. Cross chanced a look at Yagari, so as to maybe assess what he thought; he was writing the paperwork, but his eyebrow was raised in a way that struck Cross as significantly untrustworthy.
Sometimes, Cross doesn't know why he bothers. But those moments are fleeting, and easily suppressed by years of training.
"Quite simply," Cross said, "I don't see that we've anything else to do."
"What, like go home?" Kiryuu-kun suggested.
What was wrong with these people? They weren't paying attention at all. Cross would have to investigate it later. "It isn't safe enough," he said. "You may think it is, certainly, but trust me when I assure you that it is not. I have heard stories like this before, I have read the literature, I have even been close to a situation so dire and chaotic as this. We are safe here, and here we must stay—"
"Cross," Yagari interrupted. Cross had half a mind (no, more than that, more like three-quarters of one) to berate him for his rudeness. He'd just been putting together some really dramatic adjectives. "Why are we safe here, exactly? If they get through the door we'll have nowhere to go except out the window, and I think we can do without broken legs. And if they get through the window, we'll probably all just die."
"Why," Cross said, "I was under the impression that you and Kiryuu-kun would spring to the defence, draw your weapons and protect those needing protection."
"See, there you go. I'm unarmed," Yagari said very convincingly. They forgot for a moment that he was a vampire hunter—no, the vampire hunter—and as such deeply untrustworthy. "Can't help you."
"You are a liar," Cross said in tones of great accusation. "You've got a knife in your sleeve."
Yagari seemed surprised he'd noticed. (Honestly, Cross Kaien failing to notice hidden weapons? The very idea was shameful. He had several himself, but if he told the others about them he wouldn't get to delegate any more.)
"Precaution," Yagari said. "You think I'd actually use it."
Yagari would knife most people given the chance. Cross was not unaware that this included him, and so did not take the discussion further.
"Besides," Kiryuu-kun said, "I don't think I know how to spring. That's not required vampire hunter training."
Yuuki, unfortunately, saw this as the moment to assert herself. Not that it was an entirely bad thing, per se, but it did make Cross' plan seem a little less well thought through. "And I'm a prefect!" she said. "A guardian! I can look after Yori-chan and myself. Remember, Chairman, how you taught me to fight?"
"He doesn't think nice girls like you should ever have a reason to fight," Yagari told her. "It's his decency thing."
Cross had, until then, been quite successfully ignoring the fact that he was a vampire hunter and therefore one of the most indecent of indecent people. He would have to remind himself to have words with Yagari about not being such a realist. It just brought him down.
Presuming they survived this, of course.
When it was given thought, though, it did seem like things might not be quite so dire after all. At the very least, maybe they would not end up clinging desperately to their lives, pleading for mercy and reduced to throwing roof-beams as a last resort. That would be nice. And maybe they could chance double-checking that safety could be reasonably assured, and maybe venture out into the corridor, even if only for a second and with sufficient weaponry.
Cross thought about this for a few moments, and came to the conclusion that he was going to do his very best to stay positive about it all. It surely couldn't hurt to hope a bit.
So he said, very authoritatively, assuming that that would encourage the others to listen to him, "Right. How about we—very carefully, mind, and very slowly—sneak out the door and see if there's actually any danger lurking nearby?"
Apparently they'd been waiting for a suggestion such as this one since the moment the door had slammed. Cross had had no idea.
"We could do it in a screaming mob," Yagari said, "and your imaginary vampires wouldn't know the difference."
"Who cares," said Kiryuu-kun. "Let's just go."
And he got up, walked over to the door—Cross held his breath and feared for a second that he might faint from the tension—and opened it.
There was a second of intense expectation, fear, and a vague sense that if they died because of this, they'd have to find Zero in the afterlife and kill him again.
And then absolutely nothing happened.
They waited another second, just to be sure; but still nothing happened, and so there was a collective exhale that at once meant oh! thank heavens we seem to be safe and right then I'm getting out of here and I swear if that empty-headed self-seeking not-even-a-vampire-hunter-any-more idiot pulls anything like this again I'm going to grab him by the hair and push him out of the highest window I can find.
"Okay then," Yuuki said cheerfully, getting off of the desk and smiling in the general direction of everyone. "Me and Yori-chan might go now. If there are any vampires outside or something, I can get them. Thanks for trying to help us, Chairman."
Sayori smiled and nodded, and they left.
Cross was at this point mildly worried that there may in fact have been vampires outside, but he knew Yuuki was capable. It was probably a lost cause, anyway.
He heard the door shut, and realised that Yagari and Kiryuu-kun had left while he'd been entertaining his concern. At least he didn't have to worry about them. That was something.
The question now was, Now what?—but it unfortunately did not take too long to answer: paperwork. With a sigh and a comforting sense that he had done something good today, Cross settled himself in his chair and set to signing off all the mid-year reports (and hoped that this time Yagari's would not be vaguely smudged with what he had suspected was gunpowder). Life was easy again, everyone was safe, and he could finish these and then think about how next to save the day.
The storm seemed to have abated, and as Cross worked there was nothing but the pleasant sound of rain falling on the roof.
And in the window behind him, there was the barest, most fleeting flash of a pair of bright red eyes.