I awoke to the sun shining brightly through the slivers the blinds gave way to.
A yawn, a stretch, feet falling from the bed to the floor –
A person.
Quick, sudden, but there.
I shot out of bed, stood where I had thought I had seen something.
Or someone.
A bright white light, ghostly and pallid, had been standing by the doorway, leaning against the frame. They were slender and womanly, with pale skin and the hair of a raven. They would have been frightful, had they not worn an expression of complete serenity.
I stood by the door, stroke the frame where I had seen the body.
A few days ago this would have shocked me, I thought to myself. A few days ago I would have fainted at the prospect of seeing a ghoul of some sort. But not anymore.
People change. It is a simple fact of life. No-one stays the same, with no exceptions to this rule. No matter how much you want it, if you begged and pleaded and cried and tore your heart out and offered it to the devil himself would life be able to repeat a moment. Because in reality, the only way is forward. You have to take what you have been given and keep moving forward.
I smiled to myself.
I was so fucking philosophical in the mornings.
I headed to where I heard voices, and saw Hwoarang and Christie talking in hushed tones, a pot of green tea between them.
They fell silent when I approached.
"Sorry – am I interrupting?"
"Not at all," Hwoarang said kindly, gesticulating for me to come closer and have some tea.
He handed me a mug, Christie all the while scowling as I poured the tea, aware that all of a sudden the air had grown cold, and goosebumps had materialised upon the surface of my arms.
"You're cold," Hwoarang frowned, watching carefully as I seated myself on the floor and sipped at my mug.
Warm liquid danced down my throat into my stomach, and I felt my insides beam with happiness at the warmth.
"I'm not surprised. Look at what she's wearing!" Christie spat.
Eyebrows knitted together, I looked down at what I was wearing.
God forbid, I thought, I look like a whore.
Needless to say, sometime in the night I had stripped off my bottoms to my underwear, and had stretched the collar of my t-shirt so it hung lifelessly off of one shoulder, revealing a bra strap and far too much skin.
Hwoarang blushed; I groaned, stood up quickly to change.
Ling appeared behind me, and giggled at my expression.
"I have some trousers and a shirt folded for you on your bed," she laughed, patting me amiably on the shoulder.
Once I had changed, I returned and saw now that everyone was crouched around a map of some sort, Baek included, and had serious veneers plastered to their faces.
"What's going on?" I said, cautiously.
Baek looked up, a false smile touching his thin lips.
"We're making a plan. To take Jin down," he said.
"I don't think that's such a good idea," I said, quickly, perhaps too quickly.
Their eyes all turned towards me, an array of strange stares. I wondered, for a moment, why I was disapproving of their venture. Sure, I was safe, and yes, Jin needed to be 'taken down', but my heart was slamming so violently against my chest, and my ears were ringing at the very prospect of going anywhere near that man anymore. There was something about him that made me think of the smell of water when it soaks into wood. It's a cool, sweet smell, that lifts you and yet crushes you both at the same time.
The lift is the smell itself, refreshing.
The crush, however, is when you realise that the smell is there because of something unwholesome, something horrible: rotting wood.
Jin was exactly that, I thought, a cat with its claws in for the time being. When it came down to the crunch, he would be lethal and stealthy, and no-one would be able to square up to him.
No-one at all.
"Don't be ridiculous," Baek retorted, "We need to take out Jin now, while he's vulnerable,"
"Do you really believe that someone like that could ever be vulnerable?" I shot back.
Baek sniffed indignantly.
"We've risked our lives to protect you out of the goodness of our hearts and yet you continue to undermine us. This is the plan –" he stabbed his long finger at the map before them all, "-and this will be conducted, whether you approve or not, Haven. You are a guest here, not a member of this team,"
Well, that hurt.
His words cut into my skin, entangled with my veins.
He was right, of course.
I had no business involving myself in these matters; and yet, I couldn't bear to have them all walk into a death trap.
Not kind Hwoarang, sweet Ling, aloof Christie, not even cruel Baek. My heart was bleeding for them.
"Please," I said finally, "At least take me with you,"
"NO!" Hwoarang and Christie said in unison.
"Absolutely not," Baek nodded in agreement, folding up the map and tucking it away into his pocket.
I crossed my arms over my chest, and glared at them all.
"I will surrender myself to him. I will find Jin and give myself to him if you don't let me help you. I know it sounds ridiculous to you but I have a feeling you'll need me."
They all looked at me, blankly. I was afraid all of sudden, a terrible feeling casting itself down upon my shoulders, heavy weights breaking my collarbones. What if they died, trying to kill Jin? What if they died?
"Haven-" Hwoarang began.
"No," I shook my head, "You have to take me with you! I won't be left here."
"Please," Ling looked at me with watery eyes, "Stay here. Hold the fort,"
"I need to come," I caught the eye of Baek, and held it.
There was a strange silence, as though everyone were pondering the idea. No doubt Christie approved of me being there only for a human shield. But something in Baek's eyes was bright and venomous as I pleaded to accompany them, and I had the feeling that perhaps I was walking right into my own death-trap.
But I couldn't have cared less.
My concept of 'life' had been somewhat deranged ever since that first night, which seemed so long ago now.
Baek cleared his throat, took his coat from the floor and shook it on.
"You stay behind Hwoarang and say nothing," he said simply, and stalked out, followed by Ling and Christie.
I could feel myself smiling; Hwoarang touched my tentatively on the waist to get my attention.
"I don't like this idea," he said.
"I'm not looking for approval,"
"Why do you want to come?"
"In case there's a fuck up,"
"A fuck up?"
"Yes. If something terrible happens, I want to be there. As a bargaining chip, if it is so,"
His face contorted at this idea, and I tapped it gently to unscrew it. I told him not to pull faces; that if the wind changed it would be stuck that way.
"What?" he said, confused, "What wind? What are you talking about?"
I laughed, and suddenly felt rather nostalgic.
I missed home, London, England.
My father, my poor father, what was he doing at this precise moment? Was he panicking? Or was what Jin said true, and he had relinquished me to my fate?
How different Japan and England were!
"Haven?" Hwoarang snapped his fingers in my face, brought me out of my remembrances.
I looked up at him, was about to reply when out of the corner of my eye again, I saw the white flash. I turned on my heel, saw the hair of the woman fade just as my sight fell upon it. Angrily, I marched over to the spot where she had been, swiped my hands through the air. It felt thicker, as though dust had been displaced.
"Did you see that?" I asked Hwoarang over my shoulder, "Did you see that woman?"
He came over to me, eyes wide with confusion.
"What woman? Nobody is in here but us, Haven,"
I shook my head, frustrated. Perhaps this was something to do with Jin and me also. Perhaps now we had this ability to see ghosts, or ghouls, or waif woman dressed in white with pinched smiles.
It was all very strange indeed.
Tired now, and in desperate need of some closure, I sighed, which melted into a yawn.
And that's when I heard the voice.
In my head, burrowed deep and yet still loud and raucous in my mind.
"Haven? Haven, my dear, save my son. Save my son from himself,"
And then a terrible, deafening scream began to sound, not unlike a banshee or young woman being murdered. So loud and so high, I was sure that all of the windows would shatter, that my own eyes would crack from the noise.
It was not until a few moments had passed, that I realised that the scream was my own.