Blood Oaths, ch. 3
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The television was on, but Himiko wasn't paying much attention to it. She only had it on for background noise while she sorted through her email on her laptop. Work had been quiet of late and she was catching up on underground news while she waited to hear from any prospective clients. Keeping herself properly distracted had become important as well – caring for a troublesome patient was hard work in itself. It had now been almost three weeks since she'd found Doctor Jackal near death.
She shook her head, reminded of the day she'd come back from her job to find that Akabane, unsurprisingly, had disobeyed the order to stay put. She couldn't blame him, she supposed; being sick in a strange place wasn't her idea of any fun either. But she'd had an active day, made twice as difficult from her lack of concentration, worrying over Akabane, what he could be up to in her absence, so when she'd returned home later to find him sprawled across the bed with her note still clenched in his hand she'd wanted to shake him awake and spell some sense into him. She was still amazed he hadn't bled any more since that awful day.
Logically, she knew, there wasn't anything she could do to stop him if he'd really wanted to go. Himiko was surprised that her bluff had worked as well as it had. Akabane had a will of steel even without using his knives, and once his mind was made up to act nothing on earth could stand in his way. She'd known that he would want to leave as soon as possible, having been seen at his lowest point, and she didn't begrudge him the humiliation he must have felt.
In a way, she felt responsible for him. She'd saved his life; having made that commitment, the least she could do was to follow through, keeping steward until such time as Akabane could once more take up his jackal's mantle and walk the deathly shroud amongst the living. She recalled again the unusual anxiety she'd felt upon contemplating his possible death.
Ban always said she was out to prove something. He was only half-right. Himiko did want to prove herself, but more to herself than to anyone else; that was why she struggled to be the best, be a pro, fought so hard to maintain her dignity and standing in a world where the ground could shift to sand and fall out from beneath one's feet in seconds. Her opinion was the one that mattered most.
Well, perhaps, except for one other person's...
If she could call him that. Doctor Jackal seemed so inhuman most of the time that it was easy to mistake him for a specter instead of a flesh and blood mortal.
But he was mortal, and she owed him a debt of gratitude, if nothing else, for all that he'd taught her, whether directly or indirectly. It was because of Akabane that she'd merited her own footing in the transport business, and she'd scratched, clawed and bitten her way to the top alongside her two other highly-ranked (or lowly, depending on who you were talking to) comrades-in-arms. Until she'd achieved a reputation for herself, no one else had been willing to gamble on her as either a partner or an agent.
He was a strange one, that man, so sleek and sharp with words as well as weapons, a living blade if ever there was one. Still, there were glimpses of other things behind the knives, if one knew how to look for them. If one even cared to try. She'd worked with him countless occasions, so she held a special status in that regard. Whether by sheer dumb luck or the osmosis of time, the transporters had become a sort of family, linked to each other through shared experience and goals, as close as any blood-kin, and Himiko had come to read Akabane fairly well.
She realized that she felt something for him in spite of his lethal habit, which she'd told him in so many words repulsed her and which bothered him not one whit. He'd merely smiled and nodded and dismissed her criticism with the same wordless shrugs he always reserved for those who found fault with his methods. Opinion duly noted and ignored, his casual attitude seemed to say, now let me have my fun.
She would have taken him at face value – most people did, if they had the sense to want to live – if it hadn't been for the way he treated her. Over time, he'd unbent enough to permit her a verbal jousting that few others would never have survived. Himiko could rant and rail at him for ditching in the middle of a job because he was bored, and know that she was safe from the dreaded carrion's mark. She could press her limits against him in physical quarters, throw the occasional upset or playful punch, and so long as she didn't challenge him directly or interfere with his business, he would grant her safe passage through the crossroads of life and death.
She supposed that all of this could, of course, just be subject to Akabane's mercurial whims. He did everything for a reason even if that reason was simply to amuse himself while waiting for conflicts to present themselves. He claimed no loyalty to anyone or any creed, save that of self-interest. Yet Himiko found herself conflicted as she remembered little things in the past, small gestures that before had gone unremarked-upon and now signaled new possibilities in the fertile roots of her dreams. It was almost as if for her, and her alone, that the Jackal would let slip some of his mask just enough to expose the man beneath it.
Wishful thinking. All just the same, Himiko found herself nurturing that wish as a pair of purple eyes taunted her in waking thought. Akabane, when he wasn't bent on bloodshed, could be rather enjoyable to be with. Perhaps most importantly, he took her seriously when no one else would. If he did sometimes toss a few barbed comments her way, it could be argued that it was because he trusted her to be able to match his wit. How many others could say the same?
At least he was improving – slowly, but he could sit up in bed now and speak. They hadn't talked much thus far. Himiko wasn't sure what there was for them to discuss, even if she had felt like – and she did – chatting simply for the sake of polite company. Neither of them was given toward idle conversation even under better circumstances. They both believed, in their own ways, that words ought to count for something if uttered at all.
Himiko glanced at the clock on the wall and shut her laptop, having concluded minor business for the time being. She told herself that it was close to lunchtime anyway as she got up and headed for the bedroom.
Akabane was propped up on several pillows, a book balanced in his lap. Under pain of perfume hypnosis, he'd grudgingly allowed himself to be confined indefinitely. Himiko figured it was more that he had weighed his options and chosen the lesser of two evils to preserve the remainder of his dignity. When he was ready, he would, as stealthy and silently as a cat, slink away under her nose without her ever realizing it, until the whispers of an empty room voiced her suspicions.
Himiko had plans to foil that little move. She admitted to a dangerous curiosity and wanted to know just how he'd ended up in her care. She called it self-preservation – staying one step ahead of Mugenjou's deadly masters was always in one's best interests – but secretly there was more to it. And she wanted to hear Akabane say it.
Problem was, he wouldn't. She couldn't figure out a way to get him to confess, either. Not one that would keep all her limbs intact, anyway.
Akabane plucked a bookmark from the pages and settled it in place before laying the book aside and raising a brow at her. Absent was the familiar smile. He looked decidedly put out. "You haven't come with any more of that gods-awful medicine, have you?"
She could forgive the bit of snippiness in his tone. Maria's concoctions worked wonders, but left a lot to be desired for taste. "No, I came to ask you if you were hungry. It's lunchtime. Can I fix you something?"
Some of the starchness left his face as he relaxed. "I suppose. Thank you."
Himiko crossed the room and put her palm against Akabane's forehead. "You're not running a fever anymore and you've gotten better, so you won't need the medicine again."
"Good. Then you needn't trouble yourself on my account any longer. I ought to be on my way, if you'll kindly point me towards my things."
He started to move back the bedcovers and get up, but Himiko put her hand on his chest and pushed him back onto the pillows. "Nice try, but sorry. You're not fully recovered yet. You still need help moving around."
Akabane's eyes narrowed and his mouth thinned in a quiet hiss. "How much longer are you going to make me stay, then? I'm sick of bed rest."
"I'm sure you are," Himiko said, not without sympathy, as she straightened the blankets over his legs. "But you seem to forget what kind of a beating you took. I don't know what your record for battle damage is, but I've never seen that much blood before, and that includes what you leave behind after you're done having fun on assignment."
Akabane settled into the pillows, a dour sulk firmly in place. "That was the problem. I was on assignment." When she looked at him, he at last deigned to elaborate. "I was making a delivery to a client who requested that we meet in Lower Town. After the drop-off I ran into that meddlesome Observer." His eyes pinched shut in unwelcome remembrance. "I tried to fight him, but as usual, he ran off like a cowardly rat. After that...everything becomes a blank."
Not quite everything, she sensed. Himiko could tell by the way his eyes darkened and slid downward to his hands that there was something he wasn't sharing, but for now, this was a start. "You don't remember what Kagami did when you chased him?"
Akabane shook his head. "I remember following him...into a large corridor. It was dark. I saw him run behind a door. I went after him. When I opened that door..." His eyes closed again, then reopened, as a frown knit his face. "It was like a desert sandstorm exploding into my lungs."
"Sounds like a diamond dust blast, all right. He must have booby-trapped it somehow. Duplicated himself in hiding so he wouldn't suffer the effects while his clone led you into the trap."
"It was an annoyingly efficient deception, to be sure."
Himiko glanced at the sour curve of his mouth and guessed that he was more annoyed by his own gullibility than he was with Kagami's trickery. Doctor Jackal did not suffer fools so easily.
"Deception trips up even the best of us sometimes, I guess."
He didn't look pleased by that. "Well, the next time I cross paths with that prancing git, I intend to have more than just a few sharp words with him. His routine avoidance is getting very irksome."
Vengeful daggers flashed in his eyes as he spoke, and Himiko was thankful that she wasn't standing in Kagami's shoes at this moment. The Observer would do well to watch his back from now on, she thought with grim satisfaction. She had her own ax to grind with Kagami, thanks to past encounters.
"I went grocery shopping yesterday. Is there anything in particular you'd like for lunch?"
Akabane shrugged. "Whatever you have is fine with me."
Himiko went to the kitchen and searched her refrigerator. In ten minutes she'd prepared some sandwiches and soup for herself and Akabane. She set the food on a tray and took it back to the bedroom. Her portion, she placed on the dresser; the remainder that was his, she left on the tray, and brought it to him, placing the tray carefully in his lap.
"Bon appetit."
"Thank you."
They ate in mostly silence while Himiko pulled up a chair and sat next to him. At one point Akabane paused in the middle of his soup and gave her a look. "Really, Himiko-san, there's no need to keep me here when I can just as easily recuperate in my own place. I've imposed on you long enough."
She shook her head. "I found you, I cleaned you up, and I've been taking care of you ever since. You're my responsibility until you're back on your feet."
"Your thoroughness is respectable, but there are limits even to missions. I told you, you're absolved of any perceived obligation."
"Am I?" Himiko held his stare. "How professional of me is it if I just left you on your way while you're still vulnerable? You can't even get up and get a drink of water without needing me to support you." Immediately she regretted her words, for he wouldn't appreciate that reminder of his weakness.
Indeed, Akabane's eyes darkened as he glared at her now. "Spare me the noble martyrdom. We're beyond those games. Why are you really keeping me here?"
Himiko held back an exasperated sigh and stood up to collect their dishes. "Fine. If Kagami can knock down someone as powerful as you, what might he be planning for me? You know Babylon and the Trust haven't forgiven the last time we trespassed on their turf. You're insurance."
"A prudent thought, but I assure you, my presence is unnecessary." He pushed away the remains of his now-finished lunch for her to take.
"We'll see. As long as you've gone to ground, they don't know what became of you. For all they know you've picked yourself up and walked off as if nothing ever happened. Given your normal abilities that's not such a far-fetched scenario. And if you are alive and well out there, the risk of confronting you is too great."
Akabane's scowl deepened. Drat. She had him there.
Himiko took the empty dishes to the kitchen and set them in the sink. She thought for a moment how she could further target a soft spot to press her point. When she came back to Akabane she said, "I'm sorry I'm such a lousy host. I don't get to have company over that often, so I guess I'm out of practice."
He sighed, the traces of his irritation melted by an innate insistence on proper manners. "It isn't that. You have nothing to apologize for, Himiko-san. Truly, you've been perfectly gracious, and if I haven't been as considerate of your efforts, it is only because I am not in the best of states at present. Though I realize that isn't much of an excuse, with everything that you've done for me." He offered a wan, self-deprecatory smile.
She smiled back, accepting this small victory she'd scored. "Are you still feeling sore?"
He hesitated, still uncomfortable with others witnessing him in such a precarious position. "A little. My back, mostly."
"I'll see what I can do." Himiko came to his side and fluffed the pillows, helping him to adjust his body so that he was more at ease. She took up the book he'd been reading and put it by his hand. "Better?"
"Thank you." He nudged the book he'd been reading. "Now, if you could only improve upon this author's storytelling skill, I think I would be ready to take on the rest of this afternoon."
She glanced at the title. It was one she'd found at a recent yard sale and had picked up only because it was cheap. She hadn't thought it was that entertaining either. "I can't control what he writes, but if you're bored with it, I can bring you something else. Or you could watch a movie in the other room."
"Mm."
He didn't look any happier about being ensconced in the living room than he did the bed. Confinement was confinement, she supposed. He was a man of action, not idleness. Still, there was something to be said for keeping one's mind occupied and off of more troublesome matters. "Why don't you come stay on the couch for a while? I promise I won't put anything stupid on the TV."
Akabane considered this. Part of his ennui stemmed from lack of stimulation and having someone else to talk to would help to pass time. They might not have had much in common, but Himiko was more interesting than most people and was more accepting of his, shall it be said, eccentricities. Inasmuch as those eccentricities could be accepted by a human...
"All right."
Himiko waited while he pushed back the bedcovers and slowly sat up. She only approached when he'd swung his legs over the side of the bed and was ready to attempt standing. Mindful of his pride, she offered her assistance when he required it, but otherwise allowed him to set the pace as he moved, and then, they moved, laboriously, towards the living room, her arm around his waist and his hand on her shoulder. Occasionally he grunted with the effort, while Himiko tracked his progress. He was gaining in recovery. Not that he would be up to run marathons by the end of this week, but he was steadier, not quite as wobbly on his feet.
"You're getting better. Maybe I'll give you your present early."
"Present?"
They came to the couch and she helped him sink onto it, arranging its two pillows underneath his side so he'd have something to rest comfortably on for the moment while she went and fetched more. "I got you something when I bought my groceries. Wait, I'll be right back."
Himiko went to her linen closet and got out the long white box that stood in the back of the corner. She then went into her bedroom to get a couple more pillows and a blanket, and carried all these things, balanced carefully in her arms, back to Akabane.
The pillows were the first things she rationed out. She put one down behind his back, by his hips, and the other two went with the couch cushions for him to rest his upper body on. The blanket she spread over him once he'd lain down. She'd found some more of Yamato's clothes for him to wear. Right now Akabane was clad in a pair of dark blue pajamas that had once belonged to her brother. She folded the ends of the blanket over his bare feet and tucked them in.
Akabane watched her while she took the fleece throw that was draped over the back of the couch and unfolded it. "If you hadn't become a transporter, you'd have made an excellent nurse."
Himiko shook out the throw and placed it over him, up by his shoulders and chest, so he'd have enough warmth. "How so?"
"Some nurses don't think to keep a patient's feet warm. Hospital blankets are always so inadequate. You pay attention to the finer details." He paused, then added, "I appreciate that."
Himiko stood by him, appraising her work. She smiled at him. "You're welcome. I'd give you some socks, except that I don't want you slipping on the floors if you lose your balance. Wait until you're a little stronger. In the meantime," she said as she turned and picked up the long box, "I got you this."
She passed the box to Akabane and he opened it. Out slid a black wooden cane with a matching rubber tip and faux-silver handle. The end of the handle was shaped like a dog's head. It wasn't quite the classical jackal's snout, but it was close enough.
"I was going to get you a cane anyway, but that one reminded me of you," Himiko said.
Akabane turned it around in his hands, studying the way the light reflected off the metallic surfaces. Appropriate, indeed. If one must be beset by the indignity of infirmity, one might as well try to derive what small pleasures there could be found from it. A part of him was mildly touched that she'd thought to pick something semi-personal. Then he frowned. Emotions were a luxury he didn't need at this point.
But still. She had gone to a lot of trouble for him. The least he could do in return was accept this gift in the good faith that it was intended. He looked up at her and smiled.
"You like it?"
"I do. Thank you."
She took the empty box and put it on top of her kitchen table; the cane was tucked in by his side so it would be within reach if he needed it. "Are you comfortable?"
"For now. The extra pillows help."
Himiko nodded. "I'll get some movies and you can pick out the one you want."
While she was doing that on the other side of the room Akabane looked some more at his new cane. Good. This would make escape a lot easier. He contemplated using it to walk right out of here this very night, while Himiko slept, but a twinge in his muscles made him rethink that idea. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right – he was still too weak to get very far. And he had no wish to encounter anything or anyone hostile enough to pick a fight that he would be in no condition to give his full attention to.
Which meant that he was stuck indefinitely. Damn it all.
Akabane held back a sigh and put the cane down. It could be worse, he supposed. His benefactor could have been someone much less hospitable. Himiko had cared enough to cover up his feet from the chill. She hadn't – yet – complained about all the blood he'd left for her to clean up, either. She'd nursed him back from the brink of the void out of what was perhaps some foolish sense of camaraderie, but he could respect her indomitable will to complete what she saw as a unique mission that he would clearly get the better bargain from, once he'd recovered fully.
"I want to start taking regular walks. The exercise will do some good."
"Not while I'm away," Himiko answered, her back still to him. "If you fall and hit your head, you're screwed if there's no one around to help. I'll work with you. Every day."
In spite of himself Akabane felt a small smile creep along his lips at her feisty orders. Yes, things could definitely be less pleasant. As long as she understood that she wasn't going to interfere with his ultimate designs, they would get along fine and he could accept her temporary authority as steward.
Himiko came over to the couch, carrying a small stack of DVDs. As she started to hold them up one by one so he could see each title, Akabane received another nice surprise: she had good taste in viewing material.
"You enjoy these types of movies, Himiko-san?" For one so young, he wouldn't have thought that of her.
She set one DVD down and picked up another. "This one's one of my favorites. My brother used to sing the title song to me sometimes when I had trouble sleeping as a little kid." She ducked her head then, looking somewhat embarrassed to have confessed such trivia. "Yamato liked a lot of older things, black-and-white films, so we were raised on them, Ban and me, when it was the three of us. They have a certain...charm, to them, I think."
"That they do," Akabane agreed.
She showed him several more DVDs and he chose one that, as it happened, she also had a fancy for. She didn't say so, but he could tell by the little quiver of a smile at the ends of her lips that threatened to mar her controlled composure. While she was setting up the movie in its player he said, "You're not really afraid of Kagami-kun, are you, Himiko-san?"
She hit the play button on a remote control and took up a seat next to him in a recliner. "No." She looked at him then. Her eyes were a rich indigo, open, forthright – and yet, inexplicably mysterious. "It's who he serves that has me concerned."
She used the remote to skip the previews and go straight to the movie's menu. Before she scrolled to the main option, Akabane said, "And what if I told you that he serves no one save himself?"
Himiko shook her head. "There's always a price. Either Kagami owes favors, or he's done something for someone else higher up that gives him access to favors. He's had his fingers in an awful lot of pies in the past for it to be coincidence."
"Naturally. He's a scientist. An observer. He'd rather manipulate the chess pieces than actually play the game himself. That's how he experiments." Akabane folded his hands on top of his chest, tilting his head on the pillow to look at her. "Even so, the time of the Child has long since passed. He has no use for you now. With the equilibrium restored to Mugenjou, the Trust has no need to meddle in the affairs of this world. They will set him to other tasks."
She frowned as she hit the play button. "Are you a betting man, Jackal? Because frankly, I wouldn't trust any of those Babylonians with a wet paper bag. I don't gamble when it's my life on the line."
His brow arched a little. "You're a transporter. Of course you gamble."
Now it was Himiko's turn to scowl. "That's different," she said flatly.
Akabane thought that amusing and would have said so, but now the movie was rolling into its opening credits and the actors were taking their places onscreen, so he kept silent. Together they watched the drama unfold, while in the meantime, their own lives provided an altogether more compelling play of action.
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TBC
