Sometimes a Master, Always a Student

Setting: This one-shot takes place after the destruction of "Red Shield" during the time when Saya and Hagi are hunting around New York by themselves.

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"Hagi, these are some pretty nasty wounds", Saya tried, eyeing her Chevalier with concern, "You really need some blood..."

The man at her side, his young appearance veiling the signs of countless years spent walking the earth, briefly shook his head.

"All will be well. I will heal in time." his low voice rumbled simply against the quiet of the late hours of the night.

Saya could have sighed in frustration. While his dislike for blood, especially hunting for it, was a trait she had discovered in herself not so long ago, there were times when reason was overcome by reality. Hagi had not consumed blood in many weeks and occasionally had even fed her with the little that remained. He would be fine; that was always his response. Stubborn and unrelenting, his mind set firmly on his decision. He was, of course, correct; his body would regenerate, his wounds heal eventually. Yet the process was always prolonged, leaving him weak and vulnerable. Saya was sure that he knew how much she worried about him in those times, how much she wished for him not to extend his own suffering. Nevertheless, all her concerned pleas and wishes, and sometimes even angry orders, fell on dead ears with the stoic man.

All would be well.

Aware that she had lost to him once more, she grudgingly walked next to him, in silence.

For endless minutes they followed a dilapidated country road into a remote area, far away from the lights, noise and rush of the city. Not a sound was to be heard but the soft ruffling of animals scurrying about in the nearby shrubbery and what appeared almost like a groan but was, as they had learned some nights ago, nothing but the nightly breeze swishing through an old, hollow oak. Not once did any of them utter so much as a single word. The queen and her Chevalier simply walked side by side; at times, a gaze from his secretive eyes streaking her soft features ever so slightly illuminated by the waning moon. Saya had to fight the urge to give in to her habit and cling to the sleeve of his coat - a strange action she had always enjoyed in times of emotional distress. It was not like she could have given in to her instinct, however, for his right arm was occupied holding the heavy case of his violoncello safely in place across his shoulder. And his left arm had fallen victim to their most recent battle; one of the many instinct-driven, senseless monsters had ripped it right from its socket. Since a small part of clothing that had once been his jacket's sleeve remained and thus shielded the wound from open view, the blood that slowly but in a steady rhythm dropped onto the ground, told the truth. From time to time, her worried eyes wandered over his face, to his lost arm, over the countless cuts on his upper body back to his pale face. Certainly, its expression was as stoic as it had ever been, his composure perfectly intact. He was a man who would never complain, much less bewail his own situation. She had come to know this, just as she had come to be able to read him like bright letters painted on a dark surface.

Inwardly, the young girl shook her head in frustration yet had to admit to herself that it was said stubbornness and determination that made him such a valuable companion, especially when it came to persuading her of returning to the correct path whenever he felt her stray from it.

While Saya had been lost in her contemplation - and, unknowingly, visual observation - of the man next to her, the couple had reached their destination. For the past few weeks, they had taken up camp in what seemed to have once been a grand summer home but was now abandoned and had lost most of its original glory.

Saya took a few quick steps, overtaking Hagi and placed her small hands against the splintered wood of the old door, slowly pushing it open. The hinges wailed loudly, almost as if to complain about being disturbed in their sleep night after night. The girl quickly slipped through the opening, Hagi following her closely. The entrance hall lay in complete darkness; the soft moonlight unable to penetrate the windows coated with a hundred years worth layer of dust and dirt. Every corner screamed neglect. Yet for those two, it was good enough. They had stayed and slept in worse places before, were able to adapt to almost anything their situation presented them with.

As Hagi carefully set down the bulky case holding his treasured instrument and was, quite likely, about to get himself a change of fresh and - most importantly - intact clothing, Saya took her chance. Even if she lost the war, there were always battles to be won.

"If you're not going to accept any blood, then at least let me take a look at these wounds. They need to be cleaned and dressed; otherwise you will be bleeding all over the place." she let out quickly, with a firm voice and crossed her arms in front of her chest accusingly.

The tall man stood calmly, looking at back at his companion, his facial features ever the same; still she could have sworn that right now, there was something in his gaze that she did not see often and had yet been unable to really identify.

"If that is your wish." he nodded.

Hardly waiting for his reply, Saya had already taken hold of his bandaged right hand and dragged him into the large bathroom. Their countless battles had left their little reminders: bloody towels and an occasional empty blood package were strewn across the floor. She determinedly lead him over to the sink, turning on the rusty faucet - apparently feeding on the nearby well - and wetted the last clean towels.

"All right then. Let's have a look at your shoulder." she announced, indirectly ordering him to lay open his wound.

"Certainly", he replied curtly and began to remove his clothing. After taking off the torn black jacket, he let his slender fingers unbutton his stained, white shirt and carefully slide if off his injured shoulder.

Saya had braced herself with a towel in her hands, almost defensively, and slowly brought it up to the gaping wound where once his left arm had been connected to his body. She gently brushed her soft fingers over his pained flesh, cleaned the tissue of all those stray pieces of torn cloth, dirt and other substances that seemed to desperately cling to him. Yet again and again, she felt her gaze wander over his exposed body, her mind following it, arousing heating emotions, constructing tempting imagery. Defensively, she closed her eyes and set to work even more fervently.

Hagi, who stood completely motionless as to not interfere with her doings, observed her closely, every single movement, even the slightest of brushes of her skin against his. So it was not lost to him that his queen suddenly pressed her eyes shut, her cheeks flushed as with a rising fever.

"Saya... Are you not feeling well?" his husky voice sounded, his brows knit in concern, "Does the wound bother you?"

Instantly, Saya's mind returned to the present, realizing her current occupation and she quickly shook her head; as much in denial to his question as to clear her mind of those thoughts that had started welling up inside of her.

"N-no, of course not." she replied with a strong, if not slightly too strong, voice.

The reddish tinge on her cheeks intensified as she went on with her task. Even though Hagi could hardly known the pictures and ideas that had projected themselves in her mind, the degree of her embarrassment might lead one to believe that she had just spoken her most secret ideas out loud. More than eager to escape the situation, she quickly finished cleaning the wounds and began to busy herself in dressing them as well as she could. It was usually Hagi who tended to both their medical needs when not around Julia or any other trusted doctor, and the lack of 'practice' was rather evident. A broad strand of white bandages ran tightly across his stomach, covering countless smaller and larger wounds. They were wrapped so tightly, in fact, that, for a moment Saya had been afraid of crushing her patients ribs and chocking him in the process - if that were not altogether impossible. Yet her Chevalier remained silent and perfectly still, not even uttering so much as a hiss or similar sound of discontent as she tugged on the fabric.

The gaping wound at his shoulder was yet another matter. As his arm would regenerate completely within a few hours, she only placed a soft, sponge like fabric over the exposed raw flesh and wrapped it loosely, thus allowing the dressing to be pushed off once it was no longer needed.

As she had tied the ends of the last strands together in a tight knot, Saya took a step back, giving herself a full view of the man in front of her and providing him with some space to move.

"This should do it", she declared, nodding, "How does it feel?" she added with a questioning look.

The slender Chevalier ran his right hand over the newly bandaged areas - his skin almost a purely white as that which now protected it - and carefully flexed the muscles in his upper body, turning and bending ever so slightly.

"Very well", he replied, looking at her with the hint of a smile and bowed slightly, "I thank you, my Queen".

"Don't mention it", the young woman waved her hand.

***

Saya let herself drop down tiredly into one of the many armchairs of the large living room. Dust billowed up around her in thick clouds, but she was too exhausted to care. Dawn was approaching, and the night had been far too long, filled with far too many battles. Her eyelids felt heavy while her mind was trying to blank out the atrocities she had been forced to participate in.

Behind her, the old floor creaked lightly, signaling the approach of another person. Yet she did not open her eyes; her senses clearly let her know that it was her Chevalier. At any given time, she could tell exactly where he was, and it was the same for him. It was part of the connection they shared. And only an oh-so-small one.

Hagi had cleaned himself and dressed in fresh, unstained clothing; absent-mindedly, Saya noticed the absence of a black jacket, but quickly concluded that it was simply in favor of comfortableness as long as the bandages were in place.

The Chevalier quietly walked across the room and sat down near his queen. As soon as the slight clicking of his footsteps and the squealing of the rusty springs in the armchair had subsided, everything fell silent once more. They always spent their days and nights in each other's company, so the lack of spoken words had never seemed dreadful to them. They knew each other's thoughts and needs, had known them for decades. Voicing these not needed often; and they certainly never spoke just for the sake of filling the silence. Yet in that night, something seemed to be different. The voices and images in her mind were not retreating like the usually would. Sleep was not yet coming to her.

Saya tiredly cracked her eyes open and gazed over at her companion. He, in return, sat with his eyes closed, his right hand sitting restlessly on the case of his cello.

By that time, he would usually have taken up the instrument and lulled her to sleep with one of her favorites tunes, the rich, low sounds caressing her battered soul. She was sure that the music was at least integral to him, as it accompanied him through all those long days and nights when she would be sleeping to regain her strength.

Determinedly, she sat up and reached for the heavy case, arousing Hagi's attention in the progress.

"Let me play something for you tonight", she said sweetly, with a soft smile playing around her lips.

"As you wish", Hagi nodded and removed his hand from the case, allowing her to take it into her possession once more. His eyes were on her as she flipped the locks open, removed the lid and hoisted the heavy instrument from its shelter. Certainly, considering the innate strength granted by vampire's body, Saya had much less trouble handling it than most other players. Skillfully, she set it in front of her, fitting the long, slender neck comfortably against her own frame. She had played this instrument for many years and it had quickly become one of her favorite past times. One day, however, she had taken up - or rather made - Hagi her student, and the bright boy had soon picked up its working, eventually surpassing even his tutor. Since then, she had played only occasionally, finding much more enjoyment in listening to his renditions.

But now it was time to hone her own skills once more. Hagi watched her curiously as she placed her fingers in position on the board, picked up the bow and gently let it slide across the strings. As soon as the first notes hung in the air, a small smile lit up the Chevalier's face. He knew the piece well, better than any other even. It was his favorite, the one he cherished above all others; so it surely was no coincidence that she had chosen this very one.

As one note faded into the other, Hagi closed his eyes. A dark, rich undertone filled the silence while others - smaller, quieter, shyer - jumped all around it, creating the most wonderful, soothing harmonies. As the first movement drew to an end, the solemn Andante stepped aside and a hurried Allegro skipped in. The notes jumped and danced, one part of the melody overtaking the other, strands of notes competing to be heard.

Hagi had again closed his, anticipating the melody in his mind, when it happened.

"Damn...", Saya cursed under her breath. She was not quite sure what had happened; but her fingers seemed to be incorporative regarding this certain succession of notes and thus had produced a rather wailing sound, ruining the harmony.

Flustered, she set the bow to the strings again yet once more stumbled over the very same passage. An annoyed growl escaped her throat.

"You should try to decrease the space between your first and left finger, otherwise your tone will fall flat when you change strings", Hagi offered, as he was very familiar not only with the piece but the mistake itself. He had had to practice diligently to finally master it.

Saya made yet another attempt, but her fingers simply refused to heed her orders.

Seeing the frustration flushing her cheeks, the tall man rose from his armchair and stepped up to his queen, sitting down next to her. She gave him a quick glance as he leant over in order to correct the position of her left hand. At the same time, however, he unconsciously blocked the space needed for her to move the bow correctly.

"This won't work", she shook her head and stood up, keeping the cello in a safe grip. As she took a step forward and glanced at her Chevalier, he understood what trying to tell him and shifted his position, allowing her to comfortably come to a rest in his lap, her back against his chest. She could feel his warm breath against her neck ever so slightly as she readied the cello and waited for her Chevalier's assistance. He leant forward, looking over her shoulder, and gently placed the fingers of his bandaged right hand on her left one, softly adjusting their positions, the spaces in between them.

With a curtly nod, he motioned her to try once more. And so she did. And while she did, with quite some effort, manage to get past the dreaded passage, it did not take long until she stumbled again and let the bow sink in frustration.

"This isn't getting anywhere", she grumbled.

Hagi could feel her muscles tensing with agitation and was about to object to her statement and try to cheer her up, as she spoke up once again.

"I'd like to try something else. This is a small song I learned from Joel. It's an easy one, but it used to be my favorite when I first learned to play."

She turned her head sideways to be able to look back at her Chevalier with questioning eyes, seeking his opinion.

He nodded in return, his tired conveying curiosity.

"I would be honored", he added and removed his hand from the instrument, gently putting it to rest on his leg, touching her delicate skin ever so lightly.

Once more his Queen raised the bow and let it dance over the strings. The melody that emerged was very unlike the solemn, often mournful Bach pieces the pair of them found so consoling. It was, as she had announced, a fairly simple tune, the sweetest of harmonies without the complexities of the great composers. There was no competition, only interplay, a happy dance in which each note had its rightful place, none of more importance than the other. Saya's fingers skipped effortlessly over the board, finding their correct positions instantly. She enjoyed the song deeply, recalling memories of another life, of happier times when she had not been aware of the struggle that should orchestrate her very existence.

Suddenly, as she was about to change from one movement to the other, she noticed a small movement behind her, something leaning back against the cushion of the armchair. As she glanced over her shoulder, a surprised smile came to her lips; her Chevalier had fallen fast asleep. It was very unlike him, for sleep was one of the needs his status had 'allowed' him to part with. Yet the strain of the recent battles and their devastating effects on his body had to have drained all of his energy.

Still smiling, she gently brushed an ever straying strand of ebony hair out of his eyes

"Rest, my knight, you deserve it", she whispered sweetly before she turned around and softly resumed her playing.

***

A single ray of sunlight penetrated the dusty windows and fell right onto Saya's cheek, tickling the tender skin. With a tired sigh, she stirred and slowly pried her eyes open. Day had apparently come a long time ago. Drowsily, she sat up, a blanket sliding down her body and off the couch in the process. The sound cleared her mind, driving away the clouds of sleep and soon brought back memories of the past night. She must have fallen asleep shortly after Hagi, who seemingly had, as he often did, placed her sleeping form on the couch so she would be able to rest comfortably. Saya smiled at this sweet display of affection. Lazily, her eyes searched the spacious room for any signs her companion but found it to be empty. All she saw were a few discarded bandages strewn around the armchair she had fallen asleep in. Saya guessed that his arm had already regenerated.

As she stood up and had taken a few steps into the direction of the kitchen, a sweet sound met her ears. She frowned and changed her direction, walking up to the hallway from where she had a clear view of the large garden. And as soon as she had spotted her companion, she recognized the sound that had seemed to familiar: it was the sweet little melody that she had played for him just a few hours before. His mastery of the instrument made it sound even lighter, a tune as perfect as she had never heard it before. Until...

Saya grinned as she heard the young man's fingers stumble and interrupt the melody ever so suddenly. She witnessed a frown forming on his forehead as he inspected the fingerings of his left hand, looking for whatever had destroyed the harmony.

Still grinning, his queen began to walk in his direction once more, the sound of her bare feet on the marble floor catching his attention, causing him to look at her. She could have sworn she could see a tinge of embarrassment in hi eyes.

"I believe your third finger should go a little lower", she offered, "want me to show you?"

Smiling ever so slightly, he nodded and opened his arm to her, to once more welcome her body against his.

Sometimes a master, always a student.

a/n: This story has been lying around on my hard-drive ever since I first got done watching Blood+, and I never quite managed to complete it. But now it is finally done; the first piece of fanfiction I have finished in a while, since life takes its toll on me just as it does on anyone (yes, my other fanfictions will still get updated, I am working on them at the moment). Anyway, this was written over around 2 months, so there might be discrepancies on style. Also, I haven't been able to watch any Blood+ lately and thus might have gone a little out of character here and there. So anyway, tell me what you think. I'd be grateful for any review!