For Want of the Life, Pt. 1
"Nnn…nggh…"
"Ah, you're awake!"
The fog around her head slowly lifting, Moka raised her head – before her were murky images of what appeared to be a small room with several computer terminals and miniscule, extremely dark windows; dim, blue lighting overhead was the only reason she was able to make out these features as well as her sole companion, a few paces away.
"Kahlua…? What… Where are we? What's going on?"
Thinking, then, to move, Moka's irritation was evoked at the discovery of her bound limbs, strapped to this less than ideally comfortable table. Try as she might, there was no breaking free; she realized the bonds were probably of the same strength-sapping type Akuha had used to bind her to the bed during…that night. Well, in any case, at least this time she was fully dressed. That was something, she thought grimly.
Small thanks for small favors…
Her big sister came into clearer view as she took small, almost penitent steps forward. "I'm sorry about this, Moka. Really, I am. I didn't want to do it, but I couldn't disobey my orders."
"Orders? What orders? Why did you bring me here?"
Sad eyes gazed upon her. "It's—well, I don't know everything myself, but I was told to get you away from Akuha and back here as soon as possible."
"Away from…huh?" Indignation began to well up inside her. Twice now, recently, she had woken to find herself in chains, a prisoner. Such humiliation was unacceptable. She narrowed her still cloudy eyes. "What the hell happened? The last thing I remember is being in Yomotsu, then Akuha-neesan said…the real purpose…and then, Tsukune…" She paused, trying to reassemble the pieces. Truthfully, she did not enjoy the times she had to navigate her memory so deeply. Always it gave her the strangest, yet most fleeting of feelings, as if she were scrambling along a dense jungle road, under cover of night and canopy, sensing without hearing or seeing that to her sides, lurking in the darkness off the beaten path, unknown beasts more terrible than any she'd ever encountered watched her every move. Every second that passed, she could almost feel their terrible stares, sense their tensing muscles, just within tangled vines and trees, as if they were priming to strike at any pulse-pounding moment.
Then, just like that, the sensation would end, and the desired memory would come to her with pleasant familiarity, leaving the darkness behind her for the time being. Although, there wasn't much pleasant about this one. "Tsukune ran off, didn't he," she said curtly. "That's all I know. So, then what happened? Why am I here?"
A nervous laugh was her first answer. "Um, you see, I kind of had to…well, knock you out—"
That information certainly woke Moka completely. "You what?" Thinking about it, she scoffed. "Nonsense! It hasn't been that long since our last battle, and even then you couldn't take me down so easily, Kahlua."
Giving her little sister a wistful smile, Kahlua raised her hand to tap at the bare skin around her neck. "Pressure points, Moka. They're quite useful in public situations, when you need to avoid attracting attention."
"Pressure points?"
"Oh? Hasn't anyone taught you? I'm surprised. I could tell you were an experienced fighter from our last encounter, but for you to have gained all that skill without being taught where exactly to strike on someone's body to incapacitate them…"
Moka frowned at her words. Kahlua had only seen her in action once, recently, so she probably wouldn't realize this, but upon consideration, Moka had to admit that her fighting style—which more often than not consisted of bold, powerful kicks that usually ended a battle quickly—was perhaps…lacking in subtle finesse, something no doubt required by techniques utilizing specific points on one's body.
Mulling it over sullenly, she only caught the end of what Kahlua was saying; the blonde vampiress hadn't stopped talking. "…met me at the cave-mouth outside the city, and here we are. I felt so bad, but I had no choice." Her eyes started to glitter as she rambled. "I'm sorry, sweetie. Try to understand. This wasn't easy for me. There were so many times where I tried to just get it done with, but I couldn't follow through." She hiccupped, lightly, as the tears threatened to spill.
Moka let her ramble for a minute longer, avoiding her sister's dampened eyes. "Kahlua," she soon stopped her, "what about Tsukune? Where is he?"
"Ah, y-yes." Biting her lip, Kahlua suddenly gave a few half turns over her shoulder, wiping her eyes, looking for brief instances at the terminals behind her as if trying to decide something. Seemingly resigning herself, she finally turned, heavily, and paced over to the system by the opposite wall. Hidden from Moka's view, her fingers began to dance over the keyboard—from the sound of it, with more speed and accuracy than Moka would have expected from such a klutz as her sister. She continued, delicately, while she typed: "I would guess he and Akuha are back aboard the ship by now, and if I know her, she's none too pleased with what I've done. Hopefully he has the sense to stay clear of her." A pause, then, her tone lowering in volume, whether from distraction or compassion: "All tied up as you are, and you still worry about that boy. You really do like him, huh?" Greeted with a silent stare from her sister, she paused in her work, turning back to Moka and letting out a deep, mournful sigh as she met the girl's red eyes. "And here I…I did…that…well, again, you know…"
Though it was a sincere apology, the reminder of that unpleasant incident pricked at Moka's nerves nonetheless, remodeling her blank stare into a hard glower. This wasn't the time for that memory. "Yeah, I know," she said, her voice low, almost a growl. "But I'm even less thrilled now that you left him alone with Akuha-neesan. How could you do something so reckless? You know what she thinks of him, of all humans. Without me to protect him, she'll rip him to shreds the second he gives her an excuse, or maybe even before then! You're delusional if you think I'll stay here while that happens."
Reaching up to tap her chin absently, Kahlua paused, strolling over to a chair by one of the small, opaque windows. She took a seat, smoothing her dress out beneath her, then mused: "Ah, I wonder about that…" She spoke more to herself, as if recollecting something of interest. "Maybe he's not in as much danger as we think…"
She trailed off, quietly, but Moka hadn't missed her mutterings. Her curiosity was piqued; still, it couldn't overthrow her mind's primary focus on Tsukune's well-being. She would not allow it. Narrowing her eyes further, she spoke clearly, with assertive command: "I don't care. Release me, Kahlua, now. If you don't, know that your place will be on the ground beneath my foot. Don't make me tell you again."
A stern look appeared in Kahlua's normally soft eyes; she met Moka's glare unflinchingly. "I'm sorry, but that's not in the cards right now, Moka. I was told to bring you here, and for now, as far as I know, here you will stay."
"Here I will stay?" Moka's echo was an incredulous scoff. "Come on, let me out of these chains, and see how long you say that!"
Kahlua sighed, fatigued. "Moka…please don't make this more difficult than it has to be."
"MORE difficult?" She snorted contemptuously. "Well, I'm terribly sorry kidnapping me was such an inconvenience for you, Kahlua! That's really the sort of thing that should be simple and hassle-free, isn't it?" Yanking at her bonds, she was frustrated yet again by failure. Kahlua, for her part, didn't even budge an inch at Moka's struggling – her confidence in the chains to keep the girl secure was unshakable. Not that this improved Moka's mood any. Pausing in her efforts, she said, her tone menacing: "I don't plan on staying here, whether you intend it or not. Wherever 'here' is…you never told me, by the way. Just where the hell did you take me?"
"Oh, Kahlua, you haven't even informed our guest as to her new residence? That won't do."
The serene voice that sounded calmly through the small room alerted the girls that they had company. Before Moka's eyes, the door had opened, giving way to three entrants. Front and center was a man she instantly swore looked familiar, though his identity eluded her. He was dressed in a heavy leather coat, a white buttoned shirt visible beneath; greasy strands of dark hair were flung down wildly over his face, similar in a way to Akuha, noted Moka. Disgust crept into her gut upon recognition: this was that man, Miyabi Fujisaki, the one who had nearly caused Mizore to take her own life out of grief before coming with an issue of ceasefire to the rampaging Kahlua, removing her from the battle moments before she slaughtered her own sister and her friends. But if he was here, thought Moka, did that mean she had been taken to Kahlua's division headquarters?
Even if that were the case, it didn't explain who the two men to either side of Miyabi were. On his right, a bald, short, dark-skinned man with small, ill-defined features, in a well-pressed business suit and tie; on his left, a tall, stringy fellow of clearly advanced years, his face long like a horse, his height diminished only a little by hunched shoulders upon which were draped the ends of long, bone white hair. The bald man wore a blank expression on his face as he looked dead ahead, betraying nothing of his intentions or mood; the elder one, however, had an air of seediness about him, the look of a desperate schemer whose allegiances could change at the drop of a hat—or a coin, possibly. As for Miyabi, his mouth merely hovered somewhere between a flat stare and a hyenine grin. Already Moka was sickened by his presence, even more so than by Long-face.
Kahlua rose, wheeled gracefully round, and gave a small bow to her superior. "Welcome back, sir," she said, sparing a respectful nod to his companions. "As you can see, I've brought Moka here, just as you asked."
"Yes, well done," Miyabi commended her, striding past her lazily to greet Moka with a courteous bow. As he passed, the silver-haired girl took pause at the way he lightly brushed against her sister's bare arm; Kahlua's body stiffened faintly at the contact, but she said nothing. "Welcome, Miss Akashiya, to our humble little base. I am Miyabi Fujisaki, as you may already know, current acting captain of Fairy Tale's Second Subdivision. No doubt you have questions, so—"
"Where is this place?" Moka repeated vexedly, grinding her teeth together.
Her interruption was met by an almost imperceptible widening of the man's smile – Moka cursed her inability to break free, to wipe that slimy, smug look off his face. She didn't know much about him, but she didn't need to. She knew he was with Fairy Tale, knew he had hurt Mizore, and now had ordered her most recent abduction. He was an enemy, without a doubt.
He spoke, his tone level: "As I said, this is our base of operations. Well, one of them, to be exact. You've been with us a couple of days, since your sister brought you from Yomotsu – you were unconscious only at first, but we felt it would be best to keep you out until we'd put sufficient distance between us and Akuha. As to where we are specifically, I suppose there is no harm in telling you that. We are now…ah, actually, what's our specific location at the moment, again?" This to the bald, well-dressed man behind him.
"Few hundred kilometers off Vietnam, last I checked," came the deep, gravelly reply. "About four hundred meters down."
Moka's growing fury at being bound and apparently drugged was briefly interrupted by surprise, her brows arching at the information. Her eyes drifted once more to the tiny windows occupying the other wall, and suddenly it was clear – initially she had been confused by the darkness of the glass, not even a speck of light spilling through to join the artificial brightness in the room; now it made sense.
Miyabi thanked the other man then turned back to their captive. "It's as he says. We are currently drifting along, deep beneath the waves of the South China Sea. It's quite far from home, wouldn't you say? Add the fact that we're mobile, and you can see why I don't mind giving you this information." At that, he looked Moka squarely in the eye, beneath brows with nary a wrinkle of stress or care; he held her gaze fast, his own eyes cool, passionless, and although Moka returned it with ferocity, she thought she could sense the softest whisper of something dangerous lurking behind this man's stare. He went on: "Whether you were planning some sort of escape attempt, or alerting Akuha to your location, it doesn't matter. You are completely out of her reach – I can assure you that for her the sky is, literally, the limit. She has no means of reaching us down here."
Moka decided not to tell him she wouldn't even want Akuha to find her – well, if only Tsukune weren't with her, to be more accurate, and if only she herself wasn't at the mercy of this person who had already wormed his way under her skin. And, giving her a sudden flood of fresh contempt, onto it – stretching out his hand as he explained things, Miyabi nonchalantly took a few light strands of her hair between his fingers, letting them slide through the digits like water. His knuckles brushed against a cheek, but dropped promptly back to his side as Moka angrily jerked her head from his touch. Her tresses slipped back beside her. Behind Miyabi, she could see Kahlua standing still as stone, eyes on the ground before her. The other two men were likewise motionless, their attention seemingly not even on the scene before them, but with their own thoughts.
"Get your paws off me," she had snarled and violently pulled away. There was silence for a moment, until at length she said: "I remember you. Tsukune told me you're the one who put Mizore through all that suffering."
"Ah, not that again? What a troublesome girl she is, to be exaggerating what I did to her. She should be thankful I didn't do more. Technically, she was given to me as a gift, to do whatever I pleased with."
"You bastard…"
Miyabi ignored the insult from the girl staring daggers at him, waving it aside dismissively. "Let's let bygones be bygones, Miss Moka. We have great expectations for you. Big things in store. The next few days will be pretty dull, since we still need to wait for those last eggs Akuha planted to grow. But once we get started, you'll be quite the busy girl."
"What? Really?" Moka practically spat out her incredulity. "Surely Kahlua told you I wouldn't even cooperate with Akuha-neesan for Fairy Tale's benefit. What makes you think I would change my stance for you?"
As Miyabi made to reply, he was cut off by one of the other men speaking up, leaving his mouth hanging ajar. It was Long-face. "Oho, I think you misunderstand, girl. Your cooperation isn't actually required in this case. Your mere presence is sufficient, and we have it. As long as you remain with us, everything will go smoothly." His high-pitched tone contained an eerie, childlike eagerness that rattled even Moka's steel nerves. Nevertheless, she didn't betray any disturbance in her expression, keeping hate-filled eyes fixed on her captors. But the man wasn't finished. "And be warned, if you try and make trouble, we'll—! We'll—!"
He hesitated, fist raised exuberantly, trying to think of something horrible enough with which to threaten Moka. The man in shades at his side offered assistance, his voice low and ominous. "We could always kill those friends of hers, from that little school club." Catching Moka's startled attention, he nodded. "Yes, we know about them, and locating them would be a pretty simple matter, if you try anything."
Ordinarily, such a threat against her friends would result in Moka delivering a fatal beatdown. In her present condition, however, chained down in some enemy base and as a result, helpless to protect them (as was her self-assumed duty as the strongest of their group), a threat against the Newspaper Club struck real fear in her heart. She didn't doubt that with Fairy Tale's resources, finding and assassinating Kurumu, Mizore, and the others would be all too easy. Tsukune may have been safe with Akuha, she thought—well, comparatively—but her other friends were alone and unsuspecting. The gnawing realization grew that she was completely unable to help them. To help anyone, really, given present circumstances. Even herself.
Growing desperate, she cast a fervent glance at Kahlua, as if hoping for some sort of help. Her sister, however, remained silent, standing there with eyes on the floor, maintaining a quiet dignity.
It was Miyabi who, ironically, put this particular fear to rest. With an alleviating chuckle, he said: "Come now, fellas, there's no need for that. Forgive them, Miss Moka. These are my associates, I forgot to mention, both leaders of other subdivisions within Fairy Tale. Allow me to introduce Lester Reilly, and Volga Lagunov, captains of division five and seven," he gestured to the bald, dark-skinned man and the hunched, wiry elder, respectively. "We have no intention of going after your friends. They—well, we, rather—are just a bit excited about our dreams finally becoming reality."
"And what dreams are those?" Moka demanded.
He didn't respond right away. Leaving the girl with baited breath, he turned his back to her, signaling to his companions with a nod that it was time to leave their 'guest' alone. Wordlessly, the two retreated through the open doorway, out of Moka's sight. But Miyabi remained, and from the sliver of his face still visible, she thought he looked like he thinking something over. But that distant expression quickly vanished as he answered: "Let's just say we're looking to move up on the food chain a little." He paused, and then, to Kahlua: "Speaking of, make sure your sister gets her meals brought on time. She is our honored guest, after all. Come, go see it arranged. I have another matter to attend to." Then, summoning the blonde vampiress to his side, he casually placed a hand at the small of her back and guided her out of the room.
Alone, Moka heard nothing but the silence around her and the faint, warm humming of the engines beyond the walls; the bed to which she was bound stood motionless, yet she could feel the soft vibrations as the sub coasted steadily along through the depths.
A disgruntled sigh bursting from her lips, the girl tossed her head back upon the unexpectedly soft pillow beneath her. For the second time now in recent memory, she had been taken captive and was at the mercy of yet another Fairy Tale officer. And it was that Miyabi, to boot. She cursed her misfortune – why did it have to be that bastard? She had thought it bad enough when she woke in Akuha's clutches, but even that was preferable to being a prisoner here. Even though she had only met him once before, Miyabi gave her a bad feeling. With what he'd done to Mizore, the way he'd grasped her hair just now. And what the hell was up with the way he'd been touching Kahlua?
Whatever else she might not know about this guy, she was certain she did not like him. What did he want from her? And how do I get out of here? She gave an experimental tug of her arm, but it was no use – the chain had done its job in sapping her power.
She closed her eyes, trying to focus on some deep breathing to quell the frustration in her heart. A yawn came to her, unbidden; strange, since she had apparently been out like a light for several days. Although, during none of that time could she remember having a single dream. In fact, it had been more than a few days since she had even heard a whisper out of her other half. Indeed, as she checked again now, concentrating on probing the inner depths of her consciousness, Omote was nowhere to be found.
There was no cause to panic, though: Moka could still sense the pinkette's presence somewhere within her soul. Her softer half was definitely alive, but…she'd be damned if she knew where to find her. There were no hints to where she might be hiding, no trace of a trail. The rosary around her neck remained silent.
Another yawn came to her, catching her by surprise again. Perhaps, she mused, because she was so used to spending the bulk of her time resting inside the rosary, having been the active half nonstop as of late was leaving her feeling drained. Not only drained, however: she felt different in a way she couldn't quite identify, which was also odd, since, in a way, it was a familiar feeling. Almost like a dry sponge that had been left out on a table for days, having long since lost its moisture and hardened into a solid brick. What was more, the scratching, gnawing sensation she had felt in the back of her mind recently had gone mute, leaving Inner Moka truly alone with undisturbed thoughts. Anyone else, she thought ruefully, might have been grateful for the sudden lack of chaos whirling around in their minds, whether voices or subconscious proddings: for her, however, this internal quietude was first and foremost a reminder of her absent other half. Her absent…best friend.
That Omote…where could she be?
She frowned, mentally slapping herself awake in response to her increasing drowsiness. Whatever the case was with Omote, it would have to wait for another time – another time such as once she had escaped free and clear of Fairy Tale's grasp, the thing which now required her undivided attention. It wouldn't be a simple feat, she knew. Not only was she bound by these debilitating chains, but should she somehow manage to break loose, she was still in a mobile Fairy Tale base, likely crawling with an infestation of guards and officers, countless fathoms beneath the crushing dark sea. With a grim look crossing her features, she sighed once more.
This could be a problem.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
This is a problem, alright…
Blinking the wet away from his eyelashes, Tsukune stared straight into the rust-stained mirror before him. Dark eyes rimmed with a lack of decent sleep peered back, slightly moist from the water he had splashed across his face. Staring at his reflection indifferently for a few moments, he then walked over and did a haphazard job of drying his hands on a small towel before exiting the restroom.
This was a big problem, indeed, he thought again as he walked down the corridor, passing a few Fairy Talers here and there, some occupied with their own business, some staring at him with expressions of disinterest or disgust. He gave them little acknowledgement – he had other concerns. To his growing frustration, he was fast running out of options. It wasn't ten minutes ago that he had been up on the bridge, shouting desperately at the pilot to take the ship and immediately begin scouring the countryside for Moka. The pilot, though surprisingly sympathetic, had reminded Tsukune that he was the last person there to give orders, and that they would remain in their current location until he received express command from his captain.
Of course, said captain was, at the moment…somewhat unapproachable, to say the least. Tsukune had tried gaining access to her on a couple of occasions recently, only to be met with furious shouts from inside her chambers and barked orders to keep everyone out, upon which he would be escorted from the doors by the sentries posted beside them. The boy sighed, his head instantly aching at the thought of having to go back to Akuha and convince her to do something. Anything.
Then again, he knew her current absence was probably the only reason he had been allowed such a degree of freedom aboard the airship these past couple of days. Akuha must have been too preoccupied to even notice the human's existence, leaving him unfettered to roam the ship as he saw fit.
Not that there was much to do, he noted. And even if there was, he was just as focused on the same issue as she, leaving little room to care about the few entertainment options available for the crew. Passing one of these—a tiny arcade just opposite the swimming pool in which he'd tried and failed to cool his head the previous day—he overhead a couple of the Fairy Talers within, gossiping on their downtime. "—you really think she might be?" Came one voice.
An irritated response succeeded it: "I don't know, man, I'm just tellin' you what I heard! Who knows if it's true?"
A third voice joined the low din, female, hushed with trepidation: "Not so loud, idiots! If someone hears you talking about this, they'll tell Akuha, and I sure don't want to know what she'd do to us then."
"Look, all I know is," came the second voice again, "if the girl's just missing, that's one thing. But if she's dead, she's dead. Nothing the captain can do about it. So she might as well stop moping and start behaving like a leader. We got jobs to do, and she can't be off going crazy over personal matters. You know, I hear she hasn't even left her room once since Yomotsu. Just sulking up there, it's ridiculous."
The first voice, then: "Well I, for one, hope she's alive. Can you imagine how Akuha would react if her precious little sister was killed on her watch?"
"Oh, don't even say something so scary. Knowing her, she'd take it all out on all of us at random. That's why, if we find out Moka's dead after all, I'm requesting a transfer immediately."
"Really? Which division you wanna go to?"
"I was thinking maybe the fourth. I mean, their leader is a real cutie, don't you think?"
"What, that Routier? You serious? She's just as psycho as Akuha! Have you seen her chainsaw? Besides, Akuha's just as cute as her."
"Why don't you go tell her that to her face? I'll tell your mother you died in battle, like a hero."
"Shut up! Argh, you just cost me my last life!"
"…I swear, I don't know why I hang out with you two."
Their game ended, the trio departed the arcade a minute later, sparing only a cursory glance at the startled human nearby, who flashed them a polite smile as they left the scene.
So, I guess word really does get around, here. Indeed, this wasn't the first time Tsukune had caught wind of Moka's disappearance being discussed by the crew; he had already passed several other members over the last few days chattering excitedly about this latest rumor. And, strangely enough, all the people he'd heard gossiping about it had voiced similar fears and doubts regarding Akuha as these just now, if it was discovered the worst had befallen Moka.
Her duties as captain aside—they were irrelevant to him—Tsukune realized he, too, should probably worry about what the Shuzen assassin would do if it came to that. However, he knew without a doubt, the pain of Akuha's wrath would be a pale spectre to that of losing Moka. He couldn't even bring himself to consider it. Endlessly repeated self-assurances ran through his mind. She's not dead. There's no way she could be killed so easily. No, she's just missing, that's all. Missing. And she'll be back before you know it. Nevertheless, each such thought would always end with: But…how could she be missing in the first place? What could've caused two powerful vampire sisters to vanish?
No explanations were forthcoming. And thus, his own fears were perpetuated further, as was the roaring need to get Moka back as soon as possible. But he could not do it on his own. For this, Tsukune had resigned himself to confront Akuha and discover her plans to locate Moka. With any luck, she wasn't in a violent enough mood to kill him right off the bat, and did in fact have a plan in mind which she would shortly put into effect.
He arrived quickly enough, taking the elevator with one other person with whom he attempted to exchange a pleasant smile, which went unreciprocated. Disembarking at the uppermost level, he made his way to Akuha's quarters, silently marching through the cerulean-walled hallways—narrower and more pleasant than the white corridors below, as this level was reserved for the officers' suites. Of course, the room he had been stored in upon his initial abduction was among the lowest, most crowded of the crew's quarters, probably a storage room converted into a makeshift bedroom for Akuha's…playtime.
A burnt-out sigh escaped Tsukune's lips as he mentally prepped himself for what was sure to be a hectic encounter.
Turning a corner, he saw without surprise the armed guards from his last visit were still there, standing at attention before the door to Akuha's chambers. Their eyes shifted to him at his approach.
"Back again, eh?" One of them called out.
"Please, you have to let me speak to her," Tsukune pleaded. "We've been drifting along, doing nothing for three days straight, while her sister is out there, God knows where, or with who, or in what kind of danger! There is no way Akuha is just going to ignore that!"
The man on the left didn't budge as Tsukune closed the distance between them. His face remained hard and stony, and he looked down at the persistent boy under jutting brows. "Maybe, maybe not. If she does have a plan, we'll tell you about it if and when she gives the command. But until that happens, we've been ordered not to let anyone in. Beat it. Go get a drink at the bar or something." The guard hefted his rifle up against his chest, to give weight to his instructions.
Nevertheless, Tsukune found it a hollow gesture, and refused to back off. He was tired of being denied access to Akuha by these two. Every time prior that they'd removed him from the premises had only served to increase his frustration in spades. And with that frustration, the dull glow of newborn anger, fed with every rejection, until at last he would feel his very blood start to grow dangerously hot. Irate, he was just about to give the two men a piece of his mind, when something brushed distractingly against his shoulder. Making to wipe it off, he discovered it was a hand; he turned round to see the serene face of Hayate, one of Akuha's servants, staring at the three of them with a faint smile.
"What seems to be the problem?"
The guard answered before Tsukune could, gruffly: "No problem here. This kid seems to think he gets special treatment, is all. Demanding to see the captain when she's refusing company. And he's not taking no for an answer."
"That's right I'm not taking no for an answer!" Tsukune jerked his shoulder from the servant's light hold. Indifferent to the guns the guards held before him, not to mention whatever ayashi powers they were hiding, he took another bold step forward. "We need to go after Moka and we need to do it now. If Akuha won't do anything about it, then I—"
He stopped. The hand was on his shoulder again. As before, though, he sensed no menace from Akuha's servant; indeed, the smile hadn't left the man's face.
Hayate spoke, his smooth voice low. "Why don't you come with me, Tsukune? We can go grab a bite, and talk – I have some questions I wanted to ask you, anyway." He tugged softly at the boy's shoulder. "Come, let's leave these guys in peace. Who knows, it might cool your head a little. Sorry for the disturbance, you two."
Temporarily, albeit grudgingly swayed to yielding, Tsukune let himself be led off, giving the obdurate guard one last dirty look. Had it been any other ayashi on the ship who had tried to take him away, he wouldn't have quit until he had spoken to Akuha, even if he had to force his way in. For now, however, he decided to take up Hayate on his offer. These past few days, Tsukune had come into contact with the older servant several times while aimlessly roaming about the ship in worry. They had only exchanged a few words in conversation, but the initial apprehension and aversion Tsukune had grown towards trying to make nice with ayashi here had quickly been overcome by the man's halcyon demeanor and cordial manner of speaking. Hayate had already known Tsukune was no monster, but it didn't seem to faze the chestnut-haired servant. No, in fact he seemed to take all the more interest in the boy because of it. From what little they had interacted since that first time, Tsukune had learned that Hayate had an unusual—and to many, unnatural—fascination with humans as a species. Not that he would ever tell the mistress he served, of course. She wasn't the most open-minded person, as Tsukune well knew. Nevertheless, her personal servant's areas of interest came as a genuine surprise, and a pleasant one, as it now gave Tsukune at least one person in this hostile place around whom he didn't have to tense his body in anticipation of a fight.
Thus, he had acquiesced to Hayate's proposition, and was now being shown into the servant's lounge one floor down via elevator, and at the other end of the hallway. A few minutes later, they were seated at one of the tables with a small bento box each. Glancing around, taking in the laid-back atmosphere of the room, Tsukune was thankful the personal servants apparently had their own area for meals, separate from the main dining hall on the lower level where he had been forced to eat ever since being brought aboard. Rather than the huge mess of a crowd, only a few other people—presumably servants as well—inhabited this quiet, cozy lounge with them, likewise munching on some treats, drinking, or just reading. The composed ambience of the room did somewhat curb Tsukune's furious agitation, though despair over Moka's whereabouts ever gnawed at his brain.
Taking some food from his box and nibbling at it, Tsukune avoided eye contact with Hayate. He could sense the other man's gaze on him, however, his deceptively boyish face filled with keen interest, as if he expected the human before him to just start speaking. His own food remained yet untouched—he discovered his stomach was in no mood for food. He had, of course, no idea what the servant was expecting to hear. Did he want him to just talk about what being a human was like? Did he want to know his diet, hobbies…mating habits? Tsukune frowned, eyes still cast down, feeling his previous anger slowly subsiding. "So…what did you want to ask me?"
"Hm? Ah, you cut to it pretty quick, Tsukune," the man replied with a chuckle, lacing his long fingers together. "Not in the mood for small talk, maybe getting to know one another better? You are in the care," he hesitated ever so slightly before the word, "of my mistress, so wouldn't it make sense for us—no? Very well, then. Straight to business. I respect that." He paused, taking a morsel from his own lunch before at last coming right out with it. "So, tell me what happened."
Puzzled, Tsukune now looked up. "What?"
As soon as he had, Hayate's own jade eyes met his with a firm, inquisitive stare. "Tell me what happened," he repeated, his voice low over the gentle melodies streaming out through lounge's speakers.
"I don't know what—"
"Here's the thing, Tsukune. Out of every single person aboard this ship, including you, I'm probably the one who has the most contact with Miss Akuha on a regular basis—you know, bringing her her meals, seeing her room is cleaned, organizing her schedule, that sort of thing. I've been performing these duties for a long time now, Tsukune. I know things about Akuha Shuzen she would never let the world see, secrets she would have my head for if I ever decided to blab. It's inevitable, in my belief anyway, that a servant should come to know such things about their masters over the course of their service." He paused, having begun to dig into his lunch during the explanation. Tsukune's attention quickly increased at the mention of secrets about Akuha; maybe something could be gleaned that he could use against her. To his disappointment, however, Hayate didn't go any further down that road, continuing: "And who can say, really? Maybe it's because my duties are so basic, so routine and beneath her notice, that she doesn't see them, or me, as matters of any consequence, and so has no issue with the things I'm privy to—oh, of course she knows. Why look surprised?" A small smile spread across his lips, the resolute gaze with which he'd seized Tsukune's own slowly replaced by a distant, reflective look. "I've been taking care of that girl since the day she came to the Miao family's manor—ah, wait, you don't know about that, do you?"
"Actually, I do," Tsukune replied, flashing back to his journey into Moka's soul and willing the memories back to the fore. "Well, I know a little, I suppose. Only that she…what was it...returned to the Shuzen house around age thirteen, but before that she had been sent to China to live with relatives, right?"
"Yes, that's correct. How did you know?"
"Oh, Moka told me," he lied. He didn't feel like explaining the whole incident. "So then, what, those relatives were part of the Miao family? And you must have been their butler or something, if you say you were there already?"
A nod answered him. Overhead, one of the lights flickered, casting darkness and light into the room, before settling back to its normal fluorescence. "She must have been only one or two when she was shipped off to stay with them. Her father—"
"Issa Shuzen," Tsukune interrupted, absent-mindedly, recalling the imposing, thin-cheeked man from Moka's memories.
"Yes. The head of the Shuzen family. One of the most fearsomely powerful vampires of our time. Anyway, it was he who sent her to those relatives, who, as you guessed, were members of the Miao family. I can't tell you what Lord Shuzen's motivations were, as I have no idea myself, and if Miss Akuha knows, she's never filled me in, nor have I troubled her with asking. Not my place, you see. The only thing I was told was that she came to us shortly after her mother died. But clearly, whatever was behind it, she was there to be trained as an assassin for the Miao."
"I see," Tsukune mused, more engrossed with learning things about Akuha's past than he'd have imagined. Darkly, he quipped: "They certainly succeeded with that."
"Oh, indeed they did. Miss Akuha is one of the strongest warriors on this planet, and I don't think that's just my bias talking. But, I tell you, Tsukune, when she first came to us, she was as far from a professional killer as anything. I was only actually assigned to be her servant a few years later, once she was old enough to talk, but I was there when she first arrived, little more than a cute infant with a soft head, who couldn't even walk yet."
At this, Tsukune's brow raised unconsciously, his mouth drawn into a flat line. Somehow, he had trouble picturing the cold, ruthless, black-maned death machine that was Akuha Shuzen as an innocent baby.
Hayate must have noticed his wry expression, for he gave an appreciative laugh, almost choking on a mouthful of lunch. When he had recovered, he said: "It's true, believe it or not. She was quite the sweet child, even, to those of us charged with working for the Miao family. And—well, she wasn't exactly Little Miss Social, but she did manage to make friends with some of the children of close friends of the family. A little band of mischievous imps, they made together. They would get into all kinds of trouble on different occasions, but Miss Akuha would always insist on taking the blame herself, whenever they were caught. Even when the other children protested and tried to spare her the punishment, she wouldn't budge on keeping them blame-free. She was a stubborn little girl."
Tsukune couldn't help but let out a slightly wavering laugh, despite himself. "You're joking, right?" Hayate shook his head, that perpetually calm smile playing about his lips. "But, there's no way! Maybe you haven't spent as much time around her recently, but after just a few days with her myself, I can't see someone like Akuha as that type of person. A friendly little girl? I mean—how is that possible? She's a psychotic killer. How I'm actually still alive is a mystery to me."
"It's just as you said, Tsukune. You have only spent a very short amount of time with her." Hayate's tone, while still amicable, had become laced with a serious undercurrent. Tsukune took notice. "Yes, I am aware that if one were to meet Miss Akuha nowadays, there'd be some eyebrows raised to the point of breaking at what I say. I'm aware that she is not exactly the same young girl she was at the Miao manor years ago. Nevertheless—"
Tsukune interjected: "I would say not, by the sound of it. To look at her now…it's just, you have to wonder, what changed? How did she get so…you know," he trailed off.
There was that light again, acting up and sputtering out pitifully overhead, this time, it seemed, for good. Some of the other servants in the room glanced up at the broken fixture that now threw down a cloak of shadow over the occupied table, one of them then making his way over to the door and leaving the lounge.
"That, I cannot tell you," Hayate replied soberly.
Tilting his head in confusion, Tsukune forgot the relative quiet of the room as he said: "What do you mean? You can't tell me? Or won't?"
A timid grin tugged at Hayate's mouth at the attention suddenly flashed their way by the remaining stewards. Luckily, he thought, they quickly lost interest and went back to their own affairs. "Never you mind," he chided. "That's not what I invited you here for, anyway. We've gotten sidetracked. And Miss Akuha wouldn't like it if she heard I was telling you her life's story behind her back."
Tsukune frowned, further accusation dying on his tongue. He honestly wanted to hear more about this subject, but…well, he didn't want to get Hayate in trouble with Akuha. It wasn't difficult to assume she wasn't the type of person to take gossip lightly, particularly when she was the topic. And God knew what she'd do to anyone she caught engaging in it, even a servant who'd watched after her as a child. The very thought made Tsukune swallow nervously.
"I-I understand," he coughed. He would acquiesce, for now; nevertheless, he put it away in his mind to attempt to broach the subject with the man some time in the future. Oh, he would still be on this ship – Tsukune had made up his mind on that after some consideration. Until Moka was found, he would remain here. For one thing, even with Kurumu, Mizore and the others, he didn't have the resources to locate a completely missing person who had vanished with her sister to who knew where. Akuha, on the other hand, had the entirety of Fairy Tale's information networks, along with all the man and firepower that might, unfortunately, be necessary, if Moka had been kidnapped by hostile forces. Furthermore, Tsukune wasn't about to leave Akuha to go hunting after her sisters—as he was sure she eventually would—alone. If he somehow managed to escape the airship, and began searching separately, there was the very possible chance that Akuha would find Moka first, in which case, he would not be there, and Akuha would just take Moka once again to use in whatever schemes she had in store. By remaining at Akuha's side, however, there was at least a chance that, upon finding her, he'd be able to whisk Moka away from her sister's grasp before anyone had noticed.
And then, at last, they could finally, finally make haste back to China, to the Wong family and Touhou Fuhai, and get Moka's seal fixed. It had been too long since he had heard Omote's melodious, compassionate voice; heard her shy yet adorable laugh; seen her radiant smile that could without fail banish any anxieties, any doubts or fears he had about their dreams, and what they wanted to achieve together…to be together…
Not that he regretted for an instant the time he had spent with Ura recently, or the…developments their relationship had undergone (even if these had occurred amidst enemies). Indeed, now his foremost thought was to be at her side once more. How could it not be? Outer or Inner, Moka was Moka. And when it came to Ura…well, she was certainly a contrast to Omote, that much was certain. The icy veneer and stern manner she manifested would likely turn many away, intimidating them with her overwhelming dominance and power. But not him. Tsukune knew he was one of very few who had been allowed inside Ura's tough shell, allowed a glimpse of the warm and gracious spirit residing within. And together, he loved both of those facets, both shell and soul, that made up half of the girl who owned his heart.
Naturally, Tsukune wasn't about to tell any of this to one of Akuha's personal attendants, no matter how friendly the man seemed. Regarding his intentions, his lips were sealed. "So," he continued, "what did you ask me here for?"
"Yes, yes. I guess it was a roundabout way of saying this, but here it is. Despite my regular contact with the young lady, and the familiarity that a long history brings, I have no idea what happened down in Yomotsu. I know that she went there with you and her two sisters, and returned absent them, but that is all. Miss Akuha hasn't said a word about the details to me, even in frustration or anger as she sometimes does. That's why I'm asking you. Please, tell me what happened, Tsukune."
Casting a nervous glance around the room, the boy put on a hesitant smile, chuckling, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. "Um, didn't you just say you didn't want to get in trouble with Akuha for telling me things about her? I can't say I'm eager to risk that, either…"
Pulling his mostly untouched bento towards him, Hayate regarded his guest patiently. "That's a fair point. I can't force you, but I am hoping you'll indulge me. If you keep your voice down, nobody else will pay attention, I'm sure of it."
Tsukune held his answer behind a chewed lip. Then: "Listen. Not to be rude, Mr. Hayate—"
"Ah, just my name is fine."
"Okay, not to be rude, Hayate, but…is this really your business? I mean, we barely know each other, and you're asking me to reveal something that's still causing me a great deal of worry."
At that, Hayate's expression turned grave once more, his eyes narrowing at the human across from him. "All that is true. But, please, try to understand. As someone who has known her for most of her life, it greatly bothers me to see Miss Akuha in so agitated a state, and for once, have no idea of the root cause. Even if, ultimately, I am powerless to help better her mood, I just…I can't stand not knowing, you see…"
Hearing the man's confession, Tsukune felt a stab of pity; Hayate's brows had lowered, his forehead unconsciously creasing in clear consternation. The boy pondered, and sighed. There was just something about this guy that almost made him want to trust him, something terribly endearing, as one might regard an old grandfather—although, in Hayate's case, his face was exceedingly youthful. And it wasn't as if there was a specific reason why he shouldn't tell the tale…
At last, he yielded. After all, Hayate had already risked sharing information about Akuha with him, he could at least return the favor. So, after securing the man's promise that he would not breathe word of this to Akuha, or anybody for that matter, no matter how much he wished to help his mistress—to quell Tsukune's fears of being turned into the vampire's new pincushion—he began.
To be continued…
(A/N: Sorry for the delay! Also, all author's notes will go on my profile page from now on)