A/N
I know I haven't been writing lately; my muse has totally abandoned me, and just let me tell you it's been driving me insane. However, without warning, I found myself daydreaming about Haji the other day, and then I reread my books, and voila! I've got inspiration! Actually, I probably got kicked back into it 'cause my friend finally returned First Kiss after over six months of forgetting to bring it to school lol. Either way! I might actually post a new chappy for Time of Dying soon, too, if I can keep my muse locked in my head, this time—I'm gonna need lots of rope and Haji-bunnies!

And I'm working on undoing some of my OCD (a long, arduous battle). It's started affecting my grades O.o So, I'm taking baby steps, and shall now try to say "Chiroptera" in place of "Chiropterans". If you notice a single slip-up, please point it out
I won't bother fixing my plural issues concerning "Chevalier"; that's too deep-set to reverse

Now... senseless violence has always been easiest for me to write (creepy, I know), so I'll just do that for now, take it slow. *mortified with self* I'm out of practice

For Love
It was always for her...

"Come with me..."

Saya had taken his hand once, that night at Lycée. So innocent, it had seemed; but that's how it always seemed, wasn't it? Like eating the forbidden fruit—but with amnesia, she hadn't even known it was forbidden. How could she be blamed if she had not known it was wrong? It was a ponderous question. One that could also be asked of Diva. It was a question which portrayed ever so clearly their intertwined roots. As if they were the same person.

Would Diva have taken his hand? Would Diva have taken Solomon up on his offer? To escape reality and duty and responsibility and blame; to escape to a dreamland of passion and wonder, of freedom.

Saya was not Diva, just as Diva was not Saya.

So why was it Saya had taken his hand that night?

Confusion warred with reason, reason veiled by its foe. Something, some intuition, told Saya not to accept. That it was wrong, so very, very wrong. That there would be no turning back. But something else called for her to accept. She had been betrayed, disillusioned; what right did they have to force her to fight, when she so despised it? This wasn't how it was meant to be—this wasn't who she was—this wasn't what she'd wanted—this wasn't for her! Why had it been she who held poisonous blood? Why had it been she who Red Shield relied on. Why had it been she who couldn't save Otousan? Why‽ Why, why, why‽ Why did it have to be her‽

Confusion was winning. Her emotions were boiling over, distorting reality, urging her to accept. To take the easy way out.

Her heart was in tatters. Her stomach ached. Her throat burned. Her head pounded. Everything was blurry. The sunlight seemed to coalesce around Solomon, hazing into a halo that alighted his divinity. He looked like an angel. Was he her salvation?

Saya's lips trembled as she raised her hand. Reason screamed for her to pull back, to stop this madness!, thus her hesitation. She pulled back—but only for a moment. As she reached forward, her hand entered the light, set aglow in a whiteness never before noticed. Like Solomon's presence cleansed her, graced her. After a moment's hesitation, she steeled herself, and placed her hand—

"Saya!"

Darkness pierced the light.

The voices of reason and temptation were said to sound the same. Could it be she'd mistaken one for the other?

"Don't go." That single utterance from her Chevalier was unendingly heartrending. Because, for once, there was some semblance of emotion contorting his visage. What was it? Desperation? Betrayal?

Only Haji knew.

That his raison d'être was threatening to abandon him.

For so many years—over a century, in fact—Haji had devoted himself, heart and soul, to Saya. He had served her faithfully, enduring torture and loneliness and rejection time after time. Yet he never left. More loyal than the most loyal of dogs, he'd doggedly remained by her side. He'd set aside all his wants and yearnings for her sake. Sacrificed his blood for the sake of hers. All without regret.

Whether or not Saya loved him... he would always remain. For love. Because he loved her. More than she could ever know.

Yet he also set aside that love. He didn't push himself on her, or demand she reciprocate his feelings. Quietly, enduringly, he remained by her side. That was enough. To be near his raison d'être was enough.

But this was too much.

For once, he couldn't stand by and leave her to make her own decisions. Saya had every right to lead her own life. And if she told him to leave—he would. But not like this. Not with that—that—that Chevalier coercing her while she was weak and fragile and ever-so-vulnerable! Her naïveté was astounding, and also understandable. Amnesia had weakened her resolve, hidden her mission from view. She'd forgotten why she ever took up arms. And Haji could not stand by and allow her to destroy her life's work. Not like this. It wasn't by her will. It was by Solomon's. He was controlling her. That was unacceptable.

"Haji..."

Reason's call grew less hazy.

As though carrying a heavy burden, Solomon rose. He seemed annoyed by the intrusion.

Saya remained on the ground, watching the two Chevalier from her place between light and shadow. Solomon wore white, his hair blonde and airy; he seemed to radiate freedom. Haji was a prince garbed in darkness, and he stood in the shadows; his cello case was bulky, a burden. Darkness and Light. A battle which has raged since the dawn of the universe. The battle started with a bang, would it also end with one?

"Although we're both Chevalier, we simply don't see eye to eye, do we?"

"I swore that day that I would fulfill Saya's wishes."

"My wishes?" Saya spoke as through water, her voice heavy, mind distant.

Words solid and determined as reality, "I won't give Saya up."

Solomon bowed his head. "That is too bad." He sounded like he'd been ordered to do his chores; some menial task far below him.

And he enacted that task with fervor.

Without warning, a battle ensued. One moment, the prince of white bemoaned his chore. The next—he soared through the air, bladed limb crashing against the metal of Haji's cello case. His pose was that of resigned determination, entirely lacking in mercy or empathy. Back straight like a soldier, movements armed with the efficiency of organized warfare. Haji was just as efficient, having raised his shield without hesitation, firmly guarded. The air shivered, as though in fear of the two Chevalier's power. It shockwaved out, rumbling through the ruins; it felt like it had shaken the earth off its axis.

Solomon landed smoothly. Now, the light was too stark, making him appear too pale, the blood on his suit too red. Even as he retained the golden beauty of a god.

"I will have a word with him," he reassured Saya succinctly. His words weren't the least reassuring, however, as he wielded his blade as effortlessly as if it had always been there, rather than a hand. As he turned to look at her, his expression was no longer that of an angel of salvation; it was that of a killer. Nazis came to mind. "I'll be back soon." Casual words, as though this situation was normal, as though it wasn't dangerous.

Perhaps it was to him.

The Chevalier fought once more, Solomon swinging his blade, Haji raising his shield. They nimbly leapt ten feet in the air, Haji out of the ruin, Solomon in chase.

"Stop it! Both of you!" Saya cried. To no avail.

It was for her they fought.

For love.

And love is cruel.

...

Through the forest did the Chevalier soar.

Haji left his bandages to the wind, exposing his Chiropteran limb, just as Solomon had his.

The princes of darkness and light were eerie mirrors of one another as they leapt between the trees, movements faster than the eye could see. They dissolved into opposing colors—neither of which was present in the rainbow.

In seconds, they covered acres. Flashes of black and white through the greenery.

Solomon spun into a kick, which Haji deflected with his cello case; but he was still sent reeling with the force, twirling to cover behind a cypress. The tree was on the ground in moments, its mighty trunk but splinters. Haji crouched low on the rock, over fifty feet away. As White's eyes set upon him, Black leapt into the canopy and melded with the shadows. A wind rustled the leaves, and it was on this breeze that a silver dagger appeared. Solomon gave a deft slash that sent the blade into a tree, simultaneously spinning around to block the blow from Haji's Chiropteran hand. For a long moment, the Chiroptera were at an impasse, their inhuman limbs equally monstrous, sparks lighting their faces—making Solomon look golden like Zeus, Haji pale as Hades. Fighting for an advantage, Haji shifted his footing. Solomon's eyes glowed red as he suddenly enforced his dominance with a spurt of Chevalier strength, gifted by a fresh feeding earlier that day. He rammed forward against Black, sending the latter to soar through the air. Black righted himself with a twist, latching onto a tree branch which snapped as he ceased to move but his kinetic energy continued.

For a brief moment, there was stillness as the two faced each other. Just as before, Solomon stood in a clearing, the sun bearing down on him; Haji waited in the shadows, almost seeming to coalesce the darkness surround, to disappear without ever having left Solomon's sight. Gods of light and dark, princes of opposing forces, Chevalier to enemy Queens.

Then the battle restarted.

The stillness was shattered.

Both Chevalier raced into motion, sprinting parallel to one another, moving so fast they were but monochrome blurs.

They connected blows only with their Chiropteran limbs, making great flashes of light. All wildlife fled at the booms of thunder, at the bursts of lightning zinging beneath the blue sky. In figure eights, the Chiroptera streaked, connecting and then separating. One moment they were in the forest, the next in a meadow, then back to the trees.

In one meadow, a small herd of deer stood frozen. They sensed the battle, and they watched fearfully as streaks of black and white flashed through the foliage. Their ears trembled at the sonic booms resonating from the wood. Finally the deer could stand it no more, fleeing the meadow when the black streak flew not five feet from them, skidding in the dirt. His very presence raised their hackles as the buck broke into a mad sprint for the trees, does and foals quickly following suit. Haji ignored the deer, staring straight ahead with narrowed eyes.

Solomon sauntered out of the shadows, his godly visage donning a smirk. The red glow faded from his eyes.

Haji lowered into a crouch, pushing off the ground to arc twenty feet into the air, Chiropteran limb raised like a sword, to clang against Solomon's blade with another sonic boom rocketing through the land. In the same motion, he twisted upside-down, slamming his foot into Solomon's head and sending the blonde flying. Solomon recovered in a nanosecond, twisting with the agility of a cat to land on his feet. His posture was just as casual as at the ruins. His smirk grew more devilish.

And then they were off, again.

Haji threw a dagger, which Solomon dodged with ease. Solomon tossed a boulder, which Haji leapfrogged over.

They soon found themselves in a new set of ruins, buried deep in the woods. White sprinted towards a wall, moss peeking out from the mortar, ivy draped over its face. Black ran parallel, shooting off two more daggers. Quite suddenly, Solomon came to a stop, and the daggers impacted at eye-level on either side of his head.

And suddenly he was in the air behind Haji! Solomon swung his blade, aiming for a swift decapitation, a maddened smile on his lips; but Haji spun effortlessly to dodge the blow, his expression as static as ever. White sped right on by, when he all of a sudden was speeding straight for Black. Haji deflected the stab with his Chiropteran limb, swinging for his own blow. Several more flashes and booms followed as they exchanged blows. Sparks arced through the air.

—Another impasse.

Solomon pressed hard against Haji's monster hand with his own. His words were as sharp as his blade. "If you truly are Saya's Chevalier, then should you not wish for your master's happiness?" His eyes were cruel.

Haji's eyes were hateful. "Saya's wishes are my own!"

"You are beyond salvation."

Solomon pulled out all the stops, then.

Surprised, Haji's eyes widened, and he just barely pulled away as a ball of air transfixed where his head had only just been; it continued on to decimate a limestone outcropping, leaving a clean, spherical scar in the land. The land rocked as Haji executed a flip, skidding a good ways before coming to a stop. Solomon lowered his blade with a showy snap. His smile embodied condescension in every sense of the word, his eyes equally cruel; godly though his visage may have remained, it was armed with the devilry of a death god.

Haji steeled himself for the next attack.

Now, Solomon was no longer on the defense. He clearly had the upper hand as he made slash after slash, Haji effortlessly dodging the blows by moving back in a clear defense.

"A fight between two Chevalier is truly an interesting thing," Solomon prattled confidently. "Even if we are stabbed through the heart, our bodies will return to their former state within minutes. I wonder if the same would be true if we were torn to pieces, though."

Finally, Haji had had enough. Behind him lay a cliff—there was no escape. He blocked Solomon's next jab with his cello case, just as the blonde finished his ponderings. Solomon clearly wasn't intimidated. He continued to press against the metal, forcing Haji even further back, 'til the latter pulled away and Solomon executed a flip back onto the path.

"Shall we put an end to this?"

His narrow, calculating eyes bespoke treachery.

Solomon charged. He leapt high into the air, bringing his blade down upon Haji with such speed and force, it was all the black Chevalier could do to bring his cello case up for a block. Solomon bounded off, landing on the cliff face. He slashed into the rock just as Haji tossed his shield right into the newfound crack. Solomon leapt up, as did Haji; they met in midair, Haji grasping Solomon's blade with his own Chiropteran limb. The blonde twisted, forcing Haji to release his grip, and kicked him straight into the cliff face. Haji collapsed, the internal injuries dealt by the kick to his gut too severe to even move. It was then that the cliff crumbled, sending a Niagara Falls of stone atop the prone Chevalier.

With a smile on his face, Solomon approached the new pile of boulders. He watched as blood spilled between the rocks, filling the crevasses. His satisfaction at his opponent's defeat was truly sickening as he continued to smile at the blood, convinced that there was no surviving that much damage, Chevalier or not.

When a scream pierced the air, he focused every particle of his being on Saya, leaving the stones and blood to their fates as he raced towards the Queen.

What would Solomon have said if he realized that, upon defeating the enemy which had kept him from Saya, the girl over whom they had fought had remembered why she fought, and all chances of her accepting Solomon's offer had evanesced?

Making the fight entirely pointless.

Or... maybe not.

Haji had only fought so as to get Solomon away from Saya. To make him stop coercing her into making a decision she would forever despise herself over. Haji had held Solomon off just long enough to allow Saya to remember her mission. To remember to fight.

There was no longer any chance of coercion.

Who had won? Solomon... or Haji?

It was all for love. It was always for her...

A/N
Finally done! And I got to watch EP 23 and 24 while writing this, too ^^ Ah~, good times...

This is definitely not up to par. I went too long without writing anything. So I'll understand if you guys flame me... But—! Hopefully, this means I'm back in the game, and can pick on my Blood+ writing! I really do hope so ^^ I've missed Blood+ so much, these past few months

Also, I am going to add a second chapter to this. It'll be a rewrite of this. It's practice, considering how far my writing has fallen over these past few months, being so out of practice... I'm going to reread Chevalier, and then get to work. *long pause* God, I can't believe I actually wrote this... it's terrible. My deepest apologies for its suckishness

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion? I don't care if it's flames—please review!