Tenderly, he carved the thorns from the stem of the carnation-pink rose, her favourite colour. She never did like thorns on her roses and after all, the last thing he wanted was for her to accidently prick herself upon her awakening. He knew she wouldn't awake for another twenty-seven years but he thought it was a nice gesture for Saya, leaving the rose at her tomb may also inform Kai and the others of his own well-being. But inside he always hoped that she would awaken prematurely, just not like her enraged awakening in Vietnam.
Haji sighed, the last time he saw her was at the Metropolitan Opera House. He could not rid himself of the sheer pain behind Saya's eyes as she had watched him being crushed by falling concrete and debris. Helpless.
"Saya…" He thought to himself, gazing upon his work. "Forgive me."
Using his free Chiropteran hand, he reached to the navy-blue ribbon he always wore and slowly tugged at one of its ends. Freed from their confinement, his raven-black hair fell delicately to his shoulders, stray strands falling in his face. He took his time, ensuring to tie the bow perfectly around the rose.
"Saya, you deserve nothing less than perfection."
He had taken his jacket off just after the sun had set and folded it neatly, placing it between him and his trusty cello case. The first three buttons of his shirt had been undone also, exposing his well-chiseled clavicles and faint puncture-like scarring on the right of his neck. The cuffs of his shirt were unbuttoned and folded up, accompanied his untucked shirt. It was warm and there was no wind, except the occasional light breeze which danced elegantly with the unrestrained raven strands.
Only once satisfied with his work, he placed the rose on his lap and slumped backward against the outside wall of one of the many skyscrapers in the La Défense district in Paris. He would not allow anyone to see him dressed so inappropriately, unless, of course, Saya wished it. That is why he waited until he was excused from everyone's sight.
A smile teased at the corner of his lips as he remembered all the times Saya had scolded his inappropriateness. Like in Russia many decades ago…
Saya and Sonia had fallen into an icy stream when the old bridge they were crossing had broken almost predictably and were drying up inside, wrapping themselves in blankets and towels to keep warm. Haji, who had also fell, had brought them a hot beverage.
"Haji, please. Go put some clothes on. You're in front of two young girls; in any case, it's not acceptable." She had said, while averting her eyes from Haji who had nothing but a white towel wrapped loosely around his waist.
He finally smiled and for a brief moment he watched the city beneath him. Then, with the rose in hand, he stood up and made himself appear more presentable but leaving his hair down, just like he would back at the Zoo. Picking up his cello case and throwing the strap over his shoulder, he took off, jumping from building to building, only stopping to extend his black leathery wings to soar across the seas.
After all, Saya would not appreciate a wilted rose, would she?