DISCLAIMER: blinks Someone not me?
SUMMARY: Spoilers through the series, though the story is set somewhere between Ep 45 Turn the Palm of Your Hand Toward the Sun and Ep 46 May Tomorrow Be a Clear Day. A normal night in the New York HQ. /Once more, Saya had been reminded why she couldn't tell him that the long sleep was gaining on her despite her wishes, that the best she could do was sharing in as much of their lives as she could, while she could./
PAIRINGS: Canon! Julia/David, Mao/Okamura, Saya/Hagi and if you squint, some Saya/Kai between lines.
WORDCOUNT: 5373
A.N: I should be working on myCyAficathon story. I really, really should be writing that. But I've been wanting to write a Blood + fanfic for months - of course, I finally decided to settle for a series of drabbles. I even went to1sentenceand checked their prompts. This, my dears, was supposed to be 100 words on 'ring' Yeah... Right... Five THOUSAND words later, I finally had to surrender to the idea that this was a full-fledged story. It even has a mini-sequel - shakes head It starts lightly enough, Groupfic! to its core, with Gen and bits of Fluff to keep my muse happy... then it goes into semi-angsty ending. I blame everything Angst on that break I took and using it to re-read SJ Smith's 3some series. pokes tongue out at Sharon I love you, girl!
I should probably mention that this and Girl Talk were written with 15 hours of Evanescence in the background. Yes, 15 hours. Yes, I'm that crazy. Yes, that's the reason for the title. But I'm in mad LOVE with this story so it was worth it.

A.N.2: Let's remember: Peruvian girl here, which means I've watched the anime only in Spanish. I'm told that Okamura's behaviour towards Mao is somewhat different in the English dub, so... sorry 'bout that!

FEEDBACK: Alright, first foray into this fandom so my muse really needs some feeding. puppy eyes Please?

SNOW WHITE QUEEN
by Leni

David and Lewis were playing poker cards by the window, an habit they'd picked in the last days since, really, there was nothing to do but wait for Diva to make the next move. No word crossed between them now; it'd been almost an hour since Lewis had given up his attempt to lure David into a conversation - and thus distract him from the game. Only the slap of thin plastic against the table came from their side of the living room, along with the occasional grunt or low whistle that Lewis didn't seem able to smother as he looked at his cards.

Or maybe Saya, leaning back on the couch some feet away, was the only one who could pick up those noises thanks to her abilities. Or maybe not. David had just raised his head - after having given long consideration to his cards, of course - and lifted an eyebrow at his partner, annoyance and amusement mixing to state that he well knew that ex CIA agents were better at dissembling. Saya almost smiled at the effect; it was a look she'd seen in another lifetime, when their father would mock-seriously berate Kai for trying to bluff his way through a family poker game. She and Riku would immediately start teasing their older brother for his transparency until, depending on his mood, Kai would either laugh along with them and forfeit or glare angrily around the table and leave the room in a huff.

Lewis was no moody teenager, though, and he answered David's unspoken challenge with a half-smirk. "You'll have to pay to see these babies," he said smugly, putting a protective hand behind his cards, as if to cover them from David's gaze.

David shrugged, one shoulder only, and this time Saya did smile as she was reminded why his other shoulder was busy. Twenty minutes ago Julia's fingers had finally relaxed over the keyboard of her laptop, and apparently she'd found no better pillow than her... Saya frowned. What were they, anyway? Things had been different ever since the doctor willingly came back to their side, and Saya had been surprised at hearing David laugh at random times after his return from the hospital - particularly when Julia made small stalk as she checked his bandages; but also when she wasn't around. David's laugh seemed important, was important, but Saya was unable to read the signs. Were they friends? Lovers? Humoring each other's whims to pass the time? Maybe she wasn't a sixteen-year-old, but Saya was still desperately awkward where human relations were related. She could ask, but David was always so unapproachable about personal matters, and Saya couldn't help the hot blush every time she thought of broaching the subject with Julia.

There was Lewis, of course... Lewis who'd thought nothing of laughing, messing her hair and finally telling her that the crazy kids had finally stopped dancing around each other. Saya had endured the treatment, half annoyed to be treated like a nosy kid and half thankful for the same reason. Then she'd furrowed her brow, "There was dancing?" Lewis had only laughed harder, which in turn had made her square her shoulders, "I know what you mean, I did go to high school, remember?" When the big man hadn't stopped his mirth, Saya had found no other appropriate answer than to glare angrily and leave the room in a huff. Kai, she decided later while she tried to remember any flirting between the Red Shield operative and her doctor, had definitely not been the best role model as an older brother.

And yet, look how he'd grown up.

Saya looked down, half-tempted to tug at the light-brown hair that was currently tickling her leg. Almost two hours ago, once their nightly strategy session ended, he'd refused to enter the poker game and instead had walked to the couch where Saya had taken residency, "Deigning to join us, sis?" But there'd been a reassuring expression on his face, a happiness that she'd chosen to stay and share in their nightly rituals instead of heading straight to bed. Once more, Saya had been reminded why she couldn't tell him that the long sleep was gaining on her despite her wishes, that the best she could do was sharing in as much of their lives as she could, while she could. She'd managed a smile, though, "Lulu promised me a good show," she'd said, nodding to the TV set before her.

Lulu hadn't been sitting in her customary post-meeting place, though, instead she seemed busy as she checked between and under the cushions of the big sofa, probably looking for the control remote. Okamura had obediently moved out of her way while the girl went through his seat, but when it was Mao's turn, Lulu suddenly stopped hesitatingly. Saya had almost laughed as it dawned on her that the same person who faced the Corpse Corps without a doubt now looked indecisive about asking Mao, impatient, hot-tempered Mao, to move from her seat so she could keep looking. Kai had followed her line of sight, and stepped forward to help their newest friend, when a sudden yelp tore through the familial atmosphere. Saya had practically felt Hagi's attention shift to the source, the infinitesimal changes in the air as he readied his body to jump to the spot where he could protect her the best. Saya also felt as he relaxed after a quick evaluation of the situation and, deceivingly unruffled, leaned back against the wall.

"Mao?" Julia had asked, momentarily raising her head from her charts and projections to check on the girl David and Lewis had automatically left their cards on the table, face down, obviously, and reached for their holsters...

"Pervert!" That outraged cry, a sharp slap and Okamura's grunt of pain had made the poker players relax and pick up their cards. Mao and Okamura's fights were not uncommon, and why Julia would have given that soft smile before turning around and starting to type again was something Saya could not comprehend. Lewis, too, had shaken his head in obvious amusement at the situation. Why? David's reaction had made a little more sense, as he'd taken another moment to glare at the reporter warningly before he, too, had returned his attention to the game.

Warnings and smiles, smiles and warnings. What could that mean?

Tired of puzzles, Saya had turned to the small drama around the sofa. Poor Okamura had been the simultaneous receiver of a grateful smile (Lulu's, as she'd been handed the remote) and another unforgiving sock against his arm (Mao's, who'd then proceeded to rearrange her seat and murmur death threats at the same time). Okamura had caught Saya's curious look, smiled lazily and shrugged. That attitude earned her quiet laugh. That man had absolutely no sense of self-preservation, not when he'd stayed in that Vietnamese basement and taken pictures of what obviously was an unprecedented risky situation, and not now when he'd willingly chanced Mao's mood. Kai had chuckled, too, and when Saya had turned toward him to continue their conversation it'd taken her a second to understand that he'd been pulling his hand from under his jacket, where his gun now was constantly hidden.

Kai, whose idea of danger had once been racing on his bike and fist fights in back alleys. Kai, whom David had beaten to the ground so easily. Kai, who'd raised an eyebrow at having cake for his eighteenth birthday but had dutifully blown the candles and cut bigger pieces for her and Riku. And finally, Kai, who'd trained under Gray and Lewis for a year and now apparently had the reflexes only hard-bitten veteran fighters should have.

Fighters, all of them. That's what eventually became of anyone who crossed her way. The laughter had died in an instant, and Saya barely heard her brother as he'd stated his intention to stay with her and Lulu, and whatever good show the girl had discovered, "Not Tom and Jerry again, right, Lulu?" Saya had reminded herself to smile at the light ribbing. For almost two weeks, Lulu had religiously followed the cat and mouse's adventures, laughing happily as the little mouse managed to thwart every plan. "Don't listen to him," Saya had said, drawing herself from her musings. "He's just a mean boy." She could pretend to be normal for one night. She could. So, like any younger sister should, she kicked Kai on his shin to punctuate her words. That could have developed into a sibling spat, something that'd happened rarely in Okinawa and never since their father died, but Lulu had shushed both of them as she settled on the floor to watch her favorite cartoons and, after sharing twin amused looks, they'd wordlessly decided to humor the girl. Not before Saya had poked her tongue out at her older brother, and Kai'd ruffled her hair in return. Then he'd lowered himself to the floor, leaning back against the couch and elbowed Saya's leg in a silent request to grant him more space - which she answered by moving even closer to him. "Brat," Kai had said, taking her knees between his hands and 'forcefully' pushing them away.

Saya had let him, and let herself forget that she was only pretending, that Kai's little sister only existed in their memories. Almost two hours later, her hand returned to her lap without even touching his hair. His breathing pattern showed that he was sleeping, and Saya wasn't so blind that she hadn't noticed the deep rings under his eyes, the way he'd knead his shoulders with a painful expression when he thought she wasn't paying attention. They were all worn tired, nerves frayed with the knowledge that time was running out and they were open to attack at all hours while the only weakness in Amshel's plan was still weeks away.

The Metropolitan Opera House. If she could keep herself awake that long.

Kai would want to go. No, scratch that, Kai would demand to go, and his new status within the Red Shield would allow him to. It was useless to fight that and yet... Saya sighed, fingers twitching as she thought to run them through his hair, just to reassure herself that he was real, that he was there - that he'd chosen to stay with her. That each of the people in this room had weighed their options and made the same choice. Saya's instinct to protect her friends warred yet again with the knowledge that fighting without them would be useless. She needed them just as much as they needed to be included in this battle. And yet... They wouldn't know the real outcome of the fight until it was done, and they'd feel betrayed even if they understood.

But it was necessary. It was.

And they would understand.

Wouldn't they?

Now, as the TV flared gym equipment ads between the cartoon episodes, Saya looked around the room again. Julia had moved from her previous position, turning her upper body closer to David and slipping her right arm across his chest, laptop completely forgotten on her side of the table. David had shifted slightly towards her, so that the space between the chairs and simple gravity didn't win the battle against the tenuous balance her unconscious body had somehow achieved. On the other side of the table, Lewis now alternated his - probably fake, if David had been correct - reactions to his cards with badly hidden snickers at his partner's situation. David studied his cards impassively, as if nothing was out of normal. Maybe it wasn't, Saya realized. Maybe it was usual to see Julia comfortably draped across her - friend, partner, lover?

Confused again, Saya shifted her attention to the occupants of the sofa. Mao was lying face down across the length of it, profoundly asleep if her open mouth and the bit of drool at a corner of it was any indication. Okamura had been relegated to a corner of the piece of furniture, scrunched tightly between the sofa's arm and Mao's feet. He didn't seem to notice any discomfort, though, with his long legs stretched before him and his feet freely perching on the coffee table. Apparently, he was making the most of Mao's inattention, since the girl repeatedly told him not to do exactly that. Saya shook her head; he better hoped that Mao didn't suddenly wake up and catch him - it would be loud. But Okamura's thoughts were obviously far away from any household concerns; he was presently reading intently through his notes, composing that masterpiece he'd never get to publish. At times he'd shake his head, mutter to himself and scratch his current draft impatiently before tearing it from his notebook and laying the discarded sheet across Mao's calves.

Mao, the same Mao who'd jump at the slightest of the reporter's blunders, wouldn't even twitch a muscle at his actions.

Saya found it intriguing that Kai's old girlfriend could rest so deeply. When she was awake, Mao seemed to be everywhere at once; watering the plants, keeping an eye on the food supplies, drafting whoever was sitting idly to help her carry the shopping bags from the market to the apartment, nagging everyone about forgotten laundry, making sure extra toothpaste and soap were always in the bathroom cabinet... All the little things that nobody really had the time to do, Mao took onto her shoulders. These days, one could count on her to make the nightly coffee rounds while they conferred around the dining room table. To everybody's relief, she was getting better at it - well, most nights it was too strong, but after hours of mind-numbing discussions nobody really minded. Mao was also getting more confident at challenging David and Lewis' decisions, especially when they tried to rely fully on Saya's skills. Since the time between Paris and London didn't count, as Okamura and Mao had been following leads instead of sharing quarters with the other Red Shield members, it was in the last few months that the older men had learned what Kai and Okamura had known from their own experiences with her: Mao Jahana was a force of nature, waiting for the smallest pretext to turn her fury on some unsuspecting male. Mao was... protective, Saya decided, unable to find a better word for the other girl's behavior. Though they weren't 'the only girls' in the group anymore, the older girl (older? Saya smiled to herself at her own slip) had taken to heart Saya's confession about her upcoming hibernation and though she kept to her promise and didn't tell, it was obvious that Mao was looking out for her.

No wonder Hagi had only shrugged yesterday, when she'd come to Saya's room and happily announced that she was recruiting her Chevalier to vacuum the higher spaces in the apartment. Tight-lipped and hard to read, Hagi may be; but Mao's protectiveness and loyalty had definitely earned his consideration. "Saya?" he'd asked, just to confirm what he knew her answer to be. Saya had smiled and waved them away, biting her lips around a chuckle when she'd seen Mao take Hagi's arm and pull him towards the door - and Hagi letting himself be pulled. "We'll start with the upper cabinets," Mao had been saying as Saya turned to her side into a more comfortable position, pulled her covers closer around her and settled in for another nap.

Had she ever looked as peaceful, as dispreoccupied, as Mao when she slept?

Maybe a year ago, when she'd still lived in Okinawa; or in that other life under Joel's care. Not now, not when Diva monopolized so many of her thoughts when she was awake, and starred all her nightmares when she fell asleep.

"Ow!"

Saya glanced up again, raising an eyebrow at Okamura. The man didn't notice; he was instead picking the cast off drafts from around Mao's legs distractedly, all his attention on the girl at his side. "Miss Jahana?" he asked lowly, as if half-expecting her to be awake.

Why he wouldn't call her by her given name, after a year and more of close partnership, was something Saya couldn't make heads or tails of. Mao had simply shrugged when she'd brought up the question, "Guess you really can't teach new tricks to an old dog," she'd said, and they'd both promptly dissolved into giggles at Mao's definition of 'old'. After Kai, Okamura was the youngest man in the group, and he wasn't that formal with anybody else.

A little louder, "Miss Jahana?"

This time Mao responded, but not how Saya would have expected. Instead of sitting up and screaming at Okamura for waking her, a strange, tight expression came across her sleeping features, making her whimper, curl a hand around the cushion under her head and finally kick against Okamura's side. This time, there was no loud complaint. "Great," he sighed under his breath, so low that only highly sensitive hearing could pick up the exact words, "Even in her sleep she's out to get me."

Lulu giggled, but Saya couldn't tell if it was at Okamura's resigned tone or at Jerry outsmarting Tom and hitting him with a wooden hammer again. Probably the hammer. Barring attacks, Julia trying to get more information on the Thorn or testing possible cures, there was nothing that could tear Lulu's attention from the TV set once she started watching it.

Okamura gathered the dislodged sheets, which Mao's kick had sent into disarray again, piled them up and leaned forward to place them on the coffee table. The notebook went on top; but the pen he kept to himself. Saya had enough time to wonder if he really was so lazy that he'd rather brave Mao's temper by using her as a temporary coffee table, when... ping!... Saya stared open-mouthed. No, that man was not lazy. He was definitely suicidal.

"W-what?" It was Mao, who'd lifted her hand to rub her head - and found a pen in her hair. "Eh?" Still lying down, she looked at the pen drowsily, then with growing intensity as something seemed to connect in her sleepy mind. Saya knew the moment she connected the guilty pen with its owner - who, by the way, looked anything but guilty. One second Mao was still blinking in disconcert, the next she'd folded her legs to herself, sat up straight and the poor pen was flying back towards Okamura.

It fell against his shoulder. Obviously, Mao wasn't part of the team because of her aim.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Hey!" Lulu complained, turning up the volume at the same time. She probably had the right idea, because Mao didn't seem in any mood to lower her voice. Saya glanced down at the tuft of hair beside her knees, but Kai gave no sign of waking up. 'Good,' she thought, 'he deserves some rest.'

Meanwhile, Mao was telling her ex travel companion exactly what he deserved. Apparently, bathroom cleaning duties were included. Saya smiled to herself; it wouldn't be the first time the reporter ended up with a bucket and a mop. Mao may be trying to take care of them and the household, but she certainly had no compunctions about letting someone else do the hard work. Okamura tried to explain that she'd been having a bad dream... "So you hit me? With a pointy object?" she asked shrilly, her right eyebrow dangerously reaching her hairline.

Lewis snickered, trying too late to muffle the sound against his cards.

Okamura spread his palms, the picture of well-meaning innocence. "It worked, didn't it?" and shrugged.

Lulu pulled her hood back over her head and covered her ears through the fabric.

Lewis gave up all pretense and turned in his chair to watch the spectacle. David could only turn his head, but a smile played along his lips.

Saya cringed, and looked away from the coming disaster. She was watching the, couple? at the dining table when Mao's loud tirade finally managed to wake up Julia. The blonde doctor opened her eyes, at the same time giving a wide yawn. She tried to stretch; but her precarious position didn't allow for more than two seconds of blissful unawareness before balance was lost and her body threatened to slip ungracefully into the space between her and David's chair. David caught her, of course, face caught between worry and exasperation that she'd get into such a situation. Saya smiled at that expression, having been on the receiving side of it almost as long as she'd known Hagi. "I'm fine," Julia said, allowing herself to be reseated carefully and taking a second too long to disengage her hand from around David's neck.

The fact that he hadn't shaken away from her grip before that second passed told Saya volumes more than Lewis' 'dancing' explanation. "Oh." Nobody paid attention to her quiet murmur, and eventually Mao and Okamura started arguing about whose turn it was to fuel the car (how and when exactly they'd arrived to that discussion would stay a mystery to all present). Julia switched off her lap top and excused herself, yawning a little even as she said good night. "Wait, Julia." Mao raised her hand, a silent request for a pause in their argument, and smiled brightly at her current roommate. "I kinda forgot to put our sheets in the laundry basket, could you please?" Julia nodded and promised to take care of it.

"Miss Jahana, you should be more considerate." Okamura tutted, apparently in earnest. "Julia is the only doctor working in this team; she has enough concerns to need to worry about bedcovers on top of them."

Knowing better than to interfere, Julia continued on her way to her and Mao's room, exchanging a helpless shrug with Saya when she noticed that Mao and Okamura had an interested witness. "Sleep well, Saya."

Saya tore herself from the battle of wills taking place before her to return the courtesy. As the voices from the sofa raised, so did the TV volume. It was a wonder that Kai did nothing more than shift his head to the side, abandoning his spot and leaning instead into the crook between the couch and Saya's knee. Saya froze, afraid any movement would finish the work and wake him up. Then she felt his breath run along her leg; it tickled. "Kai?" she tried gently. But Kai was dead to the world. She gave him a little push, knee against temple. Kai simply seemed to frown at the annoyance and freed himself from it by rolling to his other side.

"Do they ever stop?" Lulu wondered, turning around to glare at the couple. Mao and Okamura were now on opposite ends of the sofa, facing each other with twin stubborn expressions. Lulu's annoyance was almost palpable, even as she huffed to herself and settled back to enjoy the most from her TV time. Soon after the end of the Tom and Jerry marathon was announced, earning a sigh from the girl. Five minutes into the next program, Dragon Ball Z, Lulu hit the power button with a discontented moue. Saya couldn't blame her, there was enough blood and battles in their real lives already...

"Sure! Come learn from the king of the game, pumpkin." That was Lewis. And that was Lulu stating clearly that she was no pumpkin.

Saya opened her eyes and discovered that time was missing. Lulu had moved from before the TV set to the dining table. Mao was nowhere to be seen, while Okamura was back to his work, legs folded under him now that he had more space on the sofa.

Her vision blurred again...

"Saya."

"Not yet," she told him, forcing her eyes to stay open. Not ever, if she had any say. Hagi's concern was tangible around her; but he still stepped back and didn't press the issue. Saya rubbed her eyes, and turned her attention to the round of poker. Lewis was patiently explaining the differences between winning hands. "Flush always trumps straight," she could practically hear her father say. "And a straight flush is the coolest!" her little brother had piped in. On another night, months later, it'd also been Riku's voice beside her, rooting for her as she went head-to-head against Kai - with only a pair of sixes - until her brother had quit. While Saya had been pulling the pot to her side of the table, Kai had glumly showed his cards, the jack of hearts and the jack of spades in the center. "Go, Saya!" Riku had enthused. The poor boy had earned a pulled ear for his trouble, Saya remembered...

...and giggled loudly.

"Saya?"

Saya opened her eyes again to find Okamura's eyes peering into her. There was a question... "Why do you call me by my first name?" she asked before she could think of the right one, which should have been 'why don't you do it for Mao?'. But it was too late. Okamura was looking confused at the question, and with good reason too. How else was anybody supposed to call her? Otonashi was nothing but an invention, why would she want anybody to call her that? But that hadn't been the point of her question... The point was...

"Hey, Saya. Wake up."

She'd rather Dad came to wake her up for school. Kai wouldn't even think of shaking her shoulder gently, he'd just tear her covers away and, if he was in a good mood, tickle the soles of her feet until she complied and stood up. "Go'way." Except that Kai never went away. He stayed after their father's death, and he stayed after Riku's death and he stayed and stayed and... She forced herself to open her eyes at the same time the word escaped her, "Please?"

"Is she okay?" So anxious.

Kai worried too much, Saya thought to herself even as she felt strong, familiar arms lifting her up. "I'm fine," she answered, "I can do it." But she didn't think to fight the tight hold around her back and around her knees. It felt nice, she thought, hiding her face into the warm surface against her. Her eyelids won the war, falling slowly into place. It was okay; she was held, and she was warm - why did she need to keep her eyes open?

"Long day," Hagi's voice said calmly above her. Long life, she wanted to correct him. Centuries too long.

"Okay." Kai sounded hesitant now. "If you say so..."

'If I said so, would you let me go?' But she was moving now, and Kai's presence faded into the background. She could ask him later, much later...

"Good night, Saya."

She turned carefully. Hagi may be an excellent warrior, but she didn't want to be dropped to the floor just because she'd surprised him. The surprise was on her. Hagi's arms weren't supporting her anymore, but she recognized the softness of her mattress under her. The soft weight that'd barely registered must be her bedspread, then. Had he changed her into her night slip, too? It wasn't as if it'd be the first time. It wasn't as if she'd care.

Hagi always took care of the little things. Hagi always watched over her, and always would until the moment she was ready to die. But not tonight. Tonight she'd stayed with her friends for a little longer, she'd laughed at Lewis' small jokes before the poker game turned serious, she'd finally deciphered the mystery behind David's new laughs and found a new puzzle wrapped in a sofa and hidden in the tip of a ball-point pen. Tonight she'd remembered her family without crying, and enjoyed her friends without regret: Kai and Lulu before the TV, snickering like children at the cat and mouse's antics. Lewis and David, trying to distract each other, and Julia smiling softly at their easy camaraderie. Mao and Okemura, too, in-between arguments, bursting in sudden laughter as they reminisced on a particular hotel in France, with the smallest shower and the biggest cockroach standing proudly in the middle of it.

"They are happy," she told Hagi, aware that he was still kneeling beside her even when she couldn't see him. His answer was to part her hair so it wouldn't fall on her face. She smiled. "Hagi..." Saya opened her eyes, wanting - no, needing to see his reaction. "Why can't we laugh as openly as they do?"

There was no surprise at the direction her thoughts had taken. What did it take to take to shock Hagi? she thought, not without feeling a little rebellious. But the thought passed and drifted into nothing, because she'd noticed that old sadness in his eyes, and an answer he didn't want to voice. An answer, she suddenly discovered, she didn't want to find out. So she reached out and placed a finger over his lips. Unnecessary motion, she knew it as soon as their eyes met.

He'd never tell her. Not out loud.

And she already knew.

"A reason to live?" She knew her voice had turned vicious, scornful. It was okay, he could deal with that side of her. "And what happens when my other reasons weigh much more?" So haughty. The voice of a girl who couldn't be wrong, a voice almost two-hundred years old. "Tell me, Hagi. Tell me."

She'd conveniently forgotten his lips were sealed by her own hand.

Instead he moved a little closer, and his arm brushed against hers as he covered her eyes with his human hand. Cello hands, with calluses where the tip of his fingers touched her face. It'd take years and years of practice, Saya thought, decade upon decade with the instrument to toughen a Chevalier's skin. Saya distantly remembered when her own fingers had sported those marks... Such a long time ago. "It doesn't matter anymore." She complied with his unspoken request and closed her eyes. Hagi still didn't remove his hand. "My sister hates me, maybe as much as I hate her, and our Chevaliers will do anything to please us. Even tear the world asunder if it improves our chance to win..." She paused, giving him the chance to protest her words. Not the slightest movement. Not one objection. No, there was nothing she said that could surprise him. There was a reason Chevaliers remained awake while their Queens slept, so that they had time to anticipate their every wish. The finger that'd stayed against his lips moved now, dragging across his cheek, around his ear and losing itself in his hair. In another room, between other people, it would have been called a caress. "Nothing matters, because whatever happens at that concert," she told him seriously, feeling the texture of his hair between her fingertips, "the war will stop. No more fighting, Hagi, can we even remember how that felt like? All reasons seem so small in comparison!" And she almost laughed. Better that she didn't; it would have sounded too much like a sob.

"Saya." The sound of her name pulled her from the darkness of her musings. She could still feel his hand hovering over her eyelids; but now he was also stroking the side of her temple with his thumb... Slow touches, so slow... Another room, another people... It took her a long moment to realize they came at the tempo of her heartbeat, and another to register that the hand that'd been against his hair was now hanging limply from the edge of the mattress. She felt so sleepy again... "They matter." It was forever until she connected that sentence to her little speech, an eternity until she found an answer in her sleep-muddled mind. It started with a 'but'... A deep sigh. Hagi's. "But your wishes will always be mine." Always was so scary. Everything would end so soon... "I just wish -"

And he stopped there. Pulled his hand away and Saya barely heard the crinkle of his clothes as he rose and backed away. Hagi. Wishes. 'What do you wish for, Hagi?' The question was on the tip of her tongue, and a second before sleep claimed her, Saya was sure that her asking would be the one thing to surprise him...

It would be nice to surprise him.

Really nice.

The End
09/07/08