Chapter Three
The small bell jingled, announcing another customer. Seventeen years old Hannibal greeted the man behind the counter – who wasn't very fond of the boy; he'd bought many books, read them, then returned them, asking for a refund. Hannibal went between the shelves, looking for interesting titles. He paused. A copy of Euklides' 'Elements' was resting in someone's hands. It was opened, and streaks of blonde hair were lying on the pages.
Celeste looked up, locking gazes with Hannibal. She smiled slightly.
"Good afternoon, Hannibal. What a surprise to see you here, but then again, it isn't that strange."
"I often visit this place." He replied, nodding his head in polite greeting. He and the girl have met a few times in the past two years, spending hours on talking about everything. Their interests were quite similar, and Hannibal found himself enjoying her presence. He hadn't been feeling as alone as he had before meeting her. He wasn't allowed to see Lady Murasaki during the week, so he filled his need for company using Celeste. Finally, someone who could compete with his intellect. Someone who wasn't so easy to read.
"I know. I heard you're making quite a business here, buying books, then returning them again. Nice," her smile widened and her eyes shone with amusement.
"I am but a mere student," he eyes the book in her hand. "Are you buying that?"
"Oh no, I'm even more sly than you, Hannibal," Celeste grinned "I read here and save my precious time."
"I see. And the owner still allows you to come here and leech off of him?"
"He isn't even aware of my presence most of the time." She pointed at a partially open window behind her back "It takes a lot of skill to squeeze in here, but it's worth it."
"You're quite flexible, aren't you?"
"Took me years of practice."
Hannibal didn't ask where and why she'd practice such things. He knew perfectly well what Celeste was doing to gain money for food, clothes and other necessities. He'd often watched her as she made her way through the crowd, her hand vanishing in someone's pocket, then showing up again, the wallet disappearing inside her bag. As far as he'd known, Celeste was never caught red-handed. He'd also noticed that she's always stealing from wealthy gentlemen, how noble of her. Guess the money she earns working for the cook wasn't enough for her female needs.
Beside the pleasant smell of peaches Hannibal came to like, he could smell the scent of petrol on her clothes. She must live somewhere near a gas station. It didn't really matter.
"I like this book. I think I'll make an exception and buy it." Celeste turned to the boy and he noticed something odd in her expression, something flashing in her eyes. It lasted a second. "How's Lady Murasaki doing?"
"Good." Hannibal grabbed a book and flipped the pages to read its' content. "She's a bit lonely, but she's doing fine."
"She shouldn't feel lonely, she has you."
"Only during weekends and holidays."
"Are you with her all the time? Do you think of her when you're apart?"
His eyes met hers in an emotionless gaze. "Always."
Celeste closed the book she was holding. Hannibal read the title again. Memories flooded his mind, yet he hadn't gotten lost among them.
"Would you mind buying this for me? I'd rather not blow my cover by suddenly showing up in the bookstore, exiting when I haven't entered first." Celeste fished out a wallet from her bag and handed Hannibal the amount of money to cover the price. "You'll give it to me when we meet again, maybe tomorrow. You can read it, if you wish." She put the wallet back into her bag and walked up to the window. She looked through it. There was a man with his dog on the other side of the street. No one else. The girl climbed up on the windowsill.
"Tomorrow… Should I visit you in your house near the petrol station?"
Celeste froze, with one hand resting against he glass. The recovery was quick. "I prefer the Luxemburg Gardens." She threw him an amused glance through her shoulder "Much more romantic."
Hannibal watched her as she squeezed her head carefully through the free space of the partially open window. Head first, then the rest, like a cat. One step at a time. Soon, Celeste's whole silhouette was on the other side of the slightly dirty glass. She flashed him a smile, or a smirk, once again reminding Hannibal of a cat. Celeste fixed her hair and started walking, disappearing from his view.
-
Night had fallen upon Paris, the stars shining brightly in the sky. Celeste and Hannibal stopped walking near the crossroads, the girl holding the copy of 'Elements' close to her chest.
"Thanks again for getting it for me," she indicated the book.
Hannibal nodded. "It wasn't a problem. You entrusted me with your money."
"How could I not?" she chuckled "I'd never ask anyone to buy something for me with their own money."
"What if someone would buy you a gift willingly? Would you not accept it?"
"Depends what the gift would be," Celeste looked at the boy. He was taller than her, taller by a good few inches. The top of her head came up to his nose. "And who would buy it."
The big clock on top of a church tower announced ten o'clock. Hannibal counted the bells in his mind.
"Well, I better get going. We'll continue our discussion some other time," Celeste hesitated. He noticed. Two seconds. "Good night, Hannibal."
"Good night."
She turned, waved shortly and made her way towards an empty road. He followed her with is eyes, noticing a man appearing from around the corner behind her. The man's figure was hunched and screamed 'suspicious'. The smell of cheap alcohol hit his nose violently. Hannibal waited a moment, then, when he saw Celeste turning right and the man following her closely, decided to join.
-
Celeste heard heavy footsteps behind her. She was being followed, but she willed herself not to let panic take over. Everything was all right. The person behind her – the footsteps clearly indicated a man – had probably been following her by pure coincidence.
She turned right. The man turned right four seconds later. Celeste knew why was he stalking her. The wind blew against her back, pushing her long hair forward to cover her face. She inhaled deeply through her nose. Alcohol.
"Give me some fun time, would ya, doll?"
She ignored his slurry voice. Closing her eyes, she focused on his footsteps behind her. At first they were steady, but soon began to get closer, heavy, irregular. She could feel his stinky breath on her neck. Her closed lids clenched as she desperately tried to make him go away with the sheer power of her mind. An image of her mother flashed in her mind, her mother spread across the snow, five soldiers hovering above her, laughing. One of them knelt down. The others watched on, cheered, laughed. "You are a fruit of a fruitless tree, Celeste", a voice uttered quietly, the voice of ther mother's mother "You are the unwanted. You were forced upon her. Does Kasumi love you? I doubt it."
The man decided to attack.
Celeste felt his large hand brush against her forearm, wanting to circle itself around it. Giving him no chance for that, she spun around and threw her leg up, her foot connecting with the man's chin. He stumbled backwards, blood pouring from the corner of his mouth.
"You bitch!" he yelled and lunged forward "You'll pay for that with your ass!"
Celeste used the same leg as before to kick him in the stomach, causing him to pause his attack for a short moment. Then, she spun around, the drunk felt her long hair slapping him across the face. Half a second later, the hair was replaced by her foot. The powerful kick made his lower jaw snap. The man fell to his knees with a yelp of pain and anger. He somehow got to his feet and took out a knife from his pocket, the other hand holding his chin.
"I'll kill you, bitch!" he ran towards her with the knife ready to plunge into her skin. Celeste waited until the last second, then jumped out of his way and kicked him behind his knees, causing the man to crash against the ground. The girl circled him and stopped before the kneeling man.
"I didn't even had to use my hands." Celeste uttered, more to herself, with a slight hint of amazement in her voice. The man grunted. She threw one last powerful kick aimed at his chest. He flew back his head banging against the hard concrete. Was he just unconscious or already dead, she didn't know. She didn't care.
As the sound of fight died down, Celeste noted that she wasn't alone. She turned around. Hannibal stared at her with his usual unreadable, expressionless face. He didn't look amazed, angry, surprised, disapproving, nothing. It was just the empty gaze of his maroon eyes.
"Hannibal," Celeste began, but couldn't find the words to finish. Neither of them spoke for a long moment.
"Now I know not to worry when you're returning home late." The boy said, breaking the tense silence.
"He wanted to rape me." Celeste defended herself, not knowing why exactly. She didn't want Hannibal to judge her, to be afraid of her or hate her just like the rest. The whisper in the back of her mind assured her that he won't, but the sudden wave of shock and panic overcame her. "I had to defend myself! He doesn't deserve to live, to harm women who cannot do what I just had done!"
"I don't think what you did was wrong, Celeste." He rarely used her name. But when he did, Celeste thought her name sounded beautiful when spoken by him. "It surprised me, however. You know the East Martial Arts." It was a statement, not a question. Yet, she answered.
"Yes." Celeste forced her heart to calm down, she forced her body to stop shaking. She wasn't sure if she was still scared or furious. "You are the unwanted."
Hannibal studied Celeste shortly, his eyes focusing on hers. The brown color was dark, darker than usual, it resembled a black bottomless pit. The blue was a cold, icy shade. Both her eyes were flashing with an inner light Hannibal thought he'd recognized. They flashed red.
"Why were you afraid?"
"I was afraid he'd do something to me. I didn't want to fight, and I was afraid that I will be forced to do this." She looked at him with wide eyes "I don't like to do this."
"You don't like to fight or you don't like to confront rapists?"
Celeste was silent for a few seconds. "The latter mostly."
"Is it because your mother had been raped? Is it because you are the result?"
"Hannibal…" she begged silently, eyes shining with unshed tears. The boy took a step forward, walking past the lying man. Celeste wanted to take a step back, but found herself rooted to the spot.
"Your surname gives out the Japanese blood in you, yet the blonde hair tells a different story." Hannibal continued mercilessly "Your eyes show it all. During the American occupation over Japan, your mother has been captured and raped by an American soldier, maybe even several soldiers. Her and his, or theirs, DNA mixed in you, giving you those unusual eyes that cause people to look away in fear." He stopped in front of her, staring down at her pale face and pleading eyes. Those different-colored eyes.
"Most of the people don't know what heterochromia is, that's why they fear you because of your eye color. They hate you because you're different." Hannibal paused, his eyes searching her face for a reaction. She showed many emotions at once. Some of them even he couldn't name.
"I don't hate you, Celeste."
Her arms circled around his back, palms squeezing the thin material of his shirt. Her forehead rested on his shoulder, blonde hair falling forward. He made no movement to hug her back, partially because it was unexpected and Hannibal didn't know how to react to such a gesture. He simply stood there, allowing Celeste's silent tears to stain the front of his shirt.
