Interlude: Lucky

"Aunt Saya?" Meg asked, rolling onto her side. "Can I ask you a question?"

Saya nodded, turning her head to regard her niece. She felt the warm kiss of sunshine against her skin, the fresh, ticklish, springy feel of grass under her back. She lay on a small slope, at an open picnic area, belly full of food, resulting in a sleepy slackening in her muscles, an unguarded languor in her mind.

In the glow, she little resembled the underfed, on-edge waif she had been during the final months of the war. The young woman lounging in the grass now was sleek and radiant, cheeks rosy with sunshine and well-being.

In the background, she heard Haji strumming a luxuriant melody on his cello, the notes lazy and light and somehow apropos to the atmosphere. Alecto sang an operatic aria in tandem with Haji's playing. Bach's Jesus bleibet meine Fruede. Her voice, though as sonorous as her mother Diva's, was different in tenor, in mood. Alecto's songs were tranquil, harmonious; she bore none of Diva's wildfire fury, or the curdling embers of her loneliness.

In accompaniment to Haji's cello, the effect was as soothing as a cool ripple of water.

Of both twins, Alecto was easily Haji's favorite, just as Meg was perhaps Saya's. Saya had noticed, early on, the tacit bond between the two of them, the wordless enjoyment they took in each other's company. Their temperaments were quite similar, she mused, although perhaps Alecto was a tad more informal, more sociable, than the taciturn Chevalier. Indeed, Saya had observed their little bond starting up in the earliest days, in Okinawa, when Alecto would sit reading books all the time while Meg flounced around in the garden, practicing fencing.

Saya remembered how she had walked in one evening to hear Alecto and Haji engrossed in deep discussion on some ancient volume: Boethius and the Wheel of Fortune, a ghastly and depressing tome she'd thumbed through centuries ago, in Joel's mansion. At that time, Saya had set it aside immediately, unable to understand for the life of her what Haji had found so riveting about the thing. It both startled and intrigued her, years later, to hear him sharing information, debating so seriously about it with her niece.

It had also amused Saya to learn that Alecto manifested an interest in operatic classics, and often lent dulcet vocals to tunes played on Haji's cello. There were times when she would see Haji instructing her niece on how to maneuver the bow and ascertain notes across the strings, to exercise her fingers.

It had reminded her of the brief snatches of time she had seen him coaching Riku, during the war, and despite the heartbreaking memory, she had smiled at the sight.

In a way, it had been comforting, to know that during her long sleep, Haji wouldn't be as alone as she often feared he might.

"Do you ever get jealous, watching Haji with Allie or me?" Meg prompted her now, the sun outlining her dark hair a rich chocolate brown.

Saya blinked in surprise, staring at the younger queen. "No. Of course not. Why would you ask such a thing?"

Meg hesitated, then lay beside Saya in the grass, plucking fabric pills from the purple sweater she wore. "Nothing. Just… I see the way you are with Haji. How he is with you. It's obvious you love each other so much. But if I felt that way about anyone…I don't think I'd be able to stand someone else talking to them. I don't understand how you can. You must be so tolerant."

"That's…sweet of you to think so, Meg," Saya said carefully, trying to ascertain what had brought this uncharacteristic fit of uncertainty. Introspection was more Alecto's tendency than Meg's. "But to be honest, it isn't the same thing. I don't see either you or Alecto as… rivals or anything like that. You're as important to me as Haji is. We're all family, after all."

"I know, I know," Meg amended. "I didn't mean it that way. But sometimes… sometimes I wonder…"

"Wonder what?"

"What it feels like, to have someone who'll love you this much. Someone like Haji. Not that I'm saying I want Haji per se—"

"No, of course not," Saya laughed, but not unkindly.

Meg laughed too, low and wistful, and glanced in the direction of her singing sister and the silent Chevalier. "I just mean," she went on. "That I wish I could find someone like that. Not necessarily a Chevalier… but someone who'd love me the same way Haji loves you. Not as his queen, not as just another pretty face… but just for me. For who I am."

Saya hesitated, then touched Meg's arm. "What makes you think you won't get someone like that, Meg?"

Meg shrugged, exhaling. "Aunt Saya… the kind of thing you and Haji have… it's not something every person can get. Not everyone is that lucky. It just makes me feel like it's never going to be for me."

"Oh, but Meg, why would you think that? You still have your whole life ahead of you. And… you're such an incredible girl. Why wouldn't you find someone who'll love you for who you are?"

"Not sure. Although the phrase Non-human comes to mind."

Saya sighed. She empathized, deeply and silently, with the younger queen's dilemma. Where she'd learnt through trial and error, discerning her own bloodline and origins, Meg had grown up acutely aware of what she was. And aware too, that these humans she sailed alongside, their customs and behavior made her own by more upbringing than instinct, would never truly be able to know her, understand her.

That even if they did, there was a despairing folly to the knowledge that they would never exist as long as she would, never be able to keep up with her.

Selecting a Chevalier as a lover was the most obvious option. But not everyone was as fortunate as Saya in that respect, to turn someone who had already been silently, intensely devoted to her, a devotion that the unplanned transformation had only served to enhance tenfold.

Lured by the promise of living an eternity, to remaining ever-young and ever-strong, power-hungry and manipulative humans could easily worm their way into a trusting girl's bed, and her heart, Chiropteran queen or no.

And Saya had witnessed, firsthand, that even as Chevaliers, these humans had minimal desire to serve and protect their queen.

"Meg," Saya said, and her tone was gentle, serious. "I'm sure, when the time comes, you'll meet someone who'll be able to accept that. Who will love you regardless of who or what you are. That's the person you should choose as your Chevalier."

Meg bit her lip, pausing, then let off a small contemplative smile. "Hmm. That'd be nice."

"It would. And you've still got plenty of years to find that person."

"I guess so. Although, when I do…"

"What?"

Meg hesitated, then turned to glance at Saya, serious despite her smile. "When I do, I want to know if you'll approve. I'd want you to like him, as much as I'd want Alecto to. In a way, maybe more. I'd want your approval."

Saya shook her head. "You don't need my approval, Meg. You have your own life, just like Alecto has hers. You're free to make your own decisions. Just follow your instincts, and I know you'll make the right choice."

"Was that how it was with you and Haji?"

"Well… we'd known each other awhile before anything happened, Meg. I don't think it qualifies as the same thing."

"Yeah. I guess not." Meg paused, then cracked a wide, teasing smirk. "Not everyone has their very own sex buddy shipped right to their door."

"Meg!"

Saya was up to deliver a much-deserved chastising, but Meg leapt to her feet and danced out of the way, leaving Saya half-scowling, half-smiling under the bright sunshine. As she stood there, her eyes met Haji's across the grass. Seated on a stone bench, cello propped against his knees, the faint breeze stirring dark tendrils of hair across his cheeks. Alecto sat curled beside him, rather like a little girl or a cat, singing in time to the oscillating notes.

Watching him with her niece, Saya thought back on what Meg had remarked. She paused, and a slow, pensive smile flitted across her lips.

Meg's right. I really am very lucky. Despite everything that's happened, I have someone who I'll never be able to get anywhere else for the asking. There's so much I have to be grateful for.

I don't know where I'd be now, if something happened to...

As though sensing her inner-monlogue, Haji turned and gave Saya one of his faint riveting smiles.

Shaking the tremor of premonition that bloomed from her thoughts, Saya couldn't help smile back.