Hello, hello!
I feel like I am on fire with this story! FINALLY! I've been dragging my feet with it quite a bit xD
Anyways, my thanks goes to BlackMoonWhiteSky for the favorite! And, of course, karina and Meni-sempai for reviewing!
I was listening to We Are the Fallen-I Am Only One while writing.
I AM AN IDIOT WHO HAS FINALLY DISCOVERED THE GODDAMN HORIZONTAL LINE ON FANFICTION... I am both happy and feeling stupid right now... I need a moment xD
Enjoy!
Chapter 12: In which Kanda freezes…
Sasha allowed for her skirt to drop to the floor and kicked it away, uncaring where it landed. She passed the body length mirror, decorated with a faded gold pattern and walked to the old, iron bathtub, watching for a second the way steam twirled from the surface of the water. The young woman took a small towel from one of the shelves before walking back to the tub and then putting her foot in.
As soon as her skin touched the water, she had the instinct to pull away. But, she didn't. She felt dirty. Used. Disgusting. She needed this. The young woman placed her whole leg inside, following with the other one. Her pale skin became an angry reddish color the longer it stayed under the surface. Sasha gripped the sides of the tub with her hands. The towel in her right saved it from feeling the heat of the iron, but the left palm burned at the contact.
The young woman slowly lowered herself, putting all of her weight onto her arms, until she was under the surface completely. For a couple of moments, she sat still, feeling the heat of the water on her skin. It was burning away the numbness. It was taking away all of his touches and kisses. She would be able to look at herself again after the bath.
Sasha undid her bun in a simple motion and ducked her matted locks into the hot water. Her face got hot instantly. Maybe she had overdone the heat this time. Maybe it was too much. She didn't open her eyes underwater. She had done it once, long ago, during her first scorching bath and had gotten them so red that the Madam had made her pay a fine. She wasn't allowed among the customers until she calmed down the redness.
As soon as her air ran out and her lungs began clasping on themselves uncomfortably, Sasha pushed her head up, listening to the drops that fell back into the tub. It was calming, soothing, yet disgusting. The sound that she had associated with her sisters playing in the pond in the summer, the sound always accompanied by laughter, was now tainted. The drops that would hit the water as she tossed toys at her little brother who was in the bathtub, while he giggled and shrieked excitedly now reminded her of something else. She was dirty. She was tainted.
The young woman brought her hand down to the side of the tub, stretching and twisting her body so that she could reach the two bottles. She picked the longer, heavier one and pulled it up, smiling as she unscrewed the cork. It was an old wine bottle which one of the elderly gentlemen had brought to their establishment some time ago. Sasha remembered how they had received first one and then a dozen or so more, all of the women drinking afterhours, happily, with no men involved. It had been a compliment for their service, but the girls had taken it as payment, and made it into a fun outing, without thinking about their jobs.
Now, many of the bottles were used to store the shampoo or conditioner (if they could get any). Sasha lathered her hands with the thick liquid from the bottle and rubbed it into her hair. It smelled of soft pillows and blankets after a wash, much like cotton. Yet, there was also a hint of a flowery scent in there. But, the young woman knew that the smell would vanish in mere hours after her bath, leaving her simply smelling like herself. That was why she used her oil to keep her scent fresh.
Sasha dunked her head under the water once more, after she had closed and replaced the bottle in its rightful spot. When she resurfaced, taking a small breath, she pushed the bubbles out of her eyes and wrung out her hair, taking out the soapiness. Next, she grabbed the small towel on the edge of her bath and placed it in the soapy water, beginning to rub her already red skin of any dirt that was left on her. She would never say it out loud, but she hoped that she would also one day wash away the touches of all the unnamed and named men that she had been with.
A knock sounded on the bathroom door, a yell following. Sasha let out a tiny sigh, standing up. She wouldn't put the conditioner in her hair, she thought, glancing at the other bottle. There was a line where the thick liquid ended and it was quite low in the bottle. The young woman got out of her bath, the water sloshing out onto the tiles as she walked to the full-length mirror.
Her shelf was right beside it, her name written in cursive, emerald green letters. The Madam had started that tradition of coloring them. Most of the women in the brothel couldn't read, and even less could write. The Madam was a rare one who could do both, as well as Sasha. Of course, there were a couple more, including Anette, who had been a teacher before turning to prostitution. But, the Madam had found a solution for the girls' illiteracy. She had assigned each young woman a color which marked them and their things. So, Sasha was usually dressed in deep, royal green, her favorite color.
The young woman stood in front of the mirror, inspecting herself. Her hair was damp, lying on her shoulders gently, but she could see the tangles in it which she would have to brush out. Her hair was a tad on the bushy side, unruly, when she didn't put the conditioner in it, but she didn't mind. She had inherited her hair color from her mother, the copper hue quite dominant in it. Her sisters had always argued how she had blonde, almost golden hair with a reddish hue, but she didn't think so. With age, her locks had completely taken on the color of their mother's.
She had become rather thin since she had lost her family, but that was expected. She had lived as a thief for almost two years, stealing only when and as much as it was necessary. She could remember the hunger that had struck her country, back when she had lived there with her siblings. How her stomach would rumble, but she would simply drink water to stop the pressure and eat a small part of the bread that her eldest sister would bring. To think that that had been a luxury. During her time as a thief, she had been forced to go days with only water, and sometimes even that was scarce.
Now, her body had some meat on the bones, some kind of form. Yet, if you looked closely, you could spot her ribs and count them. But, the Madam thought of that, too. She tightened the girls' corsets as far as they could go, forcing their bones to slowly change form. She often demanded that they wore the restricting undergarment to bed as well, causing the ribs to shift even further into the desired form. Now, Sasha doubted that she could get used to living without a corset.
Another knock sounded from the door, this time even more urgent and Sasha looked away from the image of the blue eyed girl that she didn't know any more. With a sigh, the young woman grabbed a towel from her shelf and wrapped it around her slim body, now red from all the rubbing that she had done. She finally felt that she was not as dirty as earlier.
At another knock, Sasha ran to the tub, dipping it to the side and spilling all the soapy water on the tiles, all over her feet. It went towards the small hole in the corner, towards which the whole floor was tilted towards. Sasha grabbed her previously discarded clothes, piling them into a basket in the corner and taking it into her arms. She opened the door with her elbow and exited, apologizing profusely to the girl who was waiting in front.
The young woman climbed the old, creaky stairs one more floor and then entered her room, marked in emerald green on the front, like all her things. It was a small, cozy room, which she honestly hadn't been expecting to have when she had begun her work. Yet, she was one of the biggest earners, and getting profit meant having the favor of the Madam. This had resulted in a small, but cozy room, complete with a dresser opposite of her bed and a small window which showed the front of the establishment. Sasha liked to sit in the chair next to it, watching the carriages rush back and forth down the street.
The young woman dropped the basket of dirty laundry in the corner of her room, her towel following. She slipped into a royal green robe and brushed her hair on autopilot. She left it down to dry and walked to open her small window. Immediately, the sounds of the street, people yelling and rushing about in the morning drowned out the giggling of the girls in the brothel. It was early morning, their last customers had left and the women were all bathing and retelling their funniest requests. Sasha had never been a fan of this time of the day. Perhaps it was because, despite becoming a working girl, she still considered herself a thief. She wasn't sure. But, something about the happy giggling at weird men's quirks and counting money for their service disgusted her. It was then when she would remember her older sisters and her brother the most, longing for her happy childhood.
Sasha walked to her dresser and pulled out her diary (really just an excuse to have paper) and a bottle of ink along with a quill pen. She had gotten the writing utensil some time ago for a cheap price from one of the peddlers. Of course, she had had to flirt a bit, show some of her cleavage in a very discreet way, but it had been worth it. The pen had a still nib, but it wasn't nearly as nice or as updated as one of the nice fountain pens that didn't need an ink bottle, as she had seen on some gentlemen who came to the brothel. Her last customer had had one. He had been kind enough to explain to her how they held a tiny capsule with ink on the inside, allowing them to write without an ink bottle. The man had doubted that she could read and write, much less understand what he was telling her, but he had been rather happy to talk about the pen as she kissed his neck. What Sasha wanted, she got.
The young woman sat at her desk, opening the ink and then flipping her diary to the first empty page. She dipped her pen and began: 'Dear Mr. Samurai,'. Then, the woman paused. What would she write to him? The Madam hadn't requested him, like she had done a couple of times before, this time it was Sasha writing, on her own. But, she wanted to know what he was doing. She was interested. What kind of innocence phenomenon was he solving this time? What were other Exorcists like? Was Ben the only Finder that he knew? What was the Black Church like? Did he have a lot of free time? Did he train a lot?
Sasha spun her pen in her hand, sending a small drop onto the top of the page. She had been taught writing a long time ago. The girl began to doodle, making the drop of ink into a tiny bird. Her mother had been quite adamant about her knowing how to read and write. But, Sasha had never been one for patience. She would get bored and then pinch and bite her teacher, often running away or 'forgetting' that she had a lesson. The tutors had called her a little menace back then. But, since the Madam had asked her to write to Kanda, she had become slowly ashamed of her bad grammar. Then, she had begged Anette to help her.
The pregnant woman had a lot of time, since she couldn't work until her baby came. She did a lot of the cleaning, washing and cooking, but she had also accepted to help Sasha with her writing. It had been a bit of trouble, since Anette didn't speak English and Sasha was writing in English, but, they had managed. Now, the copperhead knew exactly what to look out for when she wrote to someone. Sasha glanced at her paper again, noticing the flock of little birds that were flying across the page. She had even designed a little cage at the point of their origin. The young woman dipped her pen into the ink once more and then wrote once more:
I would like to thank you once more for employing my services as a translator. It was quite an adventure in Bellac. I have been careful and haven't told a soul outside of the brothel of my participation. The Madam was kind in her punishment for leaving without a word, so I'm looking forward to your next mission in France. Hopefully, this time I will have enough time to tell her before I leave.
I have been well. The Madam has me working with one of the gentlemen from Germany. He really likes Élodie, one of the girls, but alas, he doesn't speak any French! I have translated far too many of his clichéd attempts at flattery for them to be even funny anymore. Fortunately, they haven't asked me to mediate while they are in the throes of passion, yet.
Anette sends her regards and asks when you are coming back. A lot of girls are wondering the same thing. I am also very eager to see you again. Your wounds were quite terrible, as Ben had explained, have they healed yet? Ben told me of a Matron that you have at the Church who takes care of your injuries. I truly hope that you have listened to her advice and not been reckless.
Sincerely,
Sasha
The young woman ended her letter with a swirl of her name, placing another small bird doodle at the end. Not the best, but it was a good letter, she decided. The copperhead went over her messy letters once more, checking for any mistakes. She marked in a letter that she had forgotten in the second paragraph and then smiled. She was done.
Sasha stood, her robe slipping around her legs as she walked to her dresser, taking out her powder and going back to her small, round table. There, she unscrewed the powder and blew on it, causing small particles to fall on the ink, helping it dry faster and giving it a pleasant smell. Then, Sasha ripped the page out of the notebook and folded it. She placed it in an envelope and carefully tipped her daffodil oil, letting one drop slide on the page. After waving the envelope madly about, making sure that no stain went through to the paper and ink, she placed it back on the table, quickly scribbling the address of the Black Church.
The young woman flew down the stars in her robe, corsetless, which would've been a right scandal back home. But, she was used to seeing all the girls rush about half naked by now. The numerous candles were still burning in the entertainment room on the first floor, allowing Sasha to dribble some onto the envelope, sealing it safely. She was about to go out and give it to one of the peddlers on the street when she noticed a lipstick lying on the bar top. Sasha smirked as she grabbed it, put it on her lips and then smacked a kiss imprint on the back of the envelope.
"Miss Sasha." One of the live band members greeted her, while holding the door open for her to pass. She threw a smile at the young man, exiting. The band was there most nights. They would play the music that the Madam requested and then leave in the early morning, after breakfast. They were all rather nice chaps, but none of them had ever visited 'Les belles nuits' for anything other than playing, which said something.
Sasha spotted a regular peddler and walked over, fishing through her robe for the couple of silver coins that she had placed in there.
Kanda sneezed. He then promptly cursed under his breath and then ducked back into the small, wooden house. Here he was, alone, in the middle of nowhere, waiting for his Finder to get there. Kanda lowered Mugen against the simple table, just within his reach and allowed himself to plop down, quite ungracefully into the single sofa chair in front of the fire.
He sneezed once more and followed it with a silent curse in Japanese. His eyes fixed on the small window on the door, showing the falling snow outside. Of all the places where Komui could send him, the man had decided to shoo Kanda off to Switzerland. Normally, Kanda wasn't bothered by the country. Bring a Finder along and suddenly everything would be translated easily enough to you. The samurai didn't even mind it that much when he had gotten the mission file. It was June. Everywhere was nice and sunny and toasty in June, right? Wrong!
Komui must've searched for the Jaws of Death themselves, because he had found them in the middle of the Pennine Alps, in Switzerland. It was positively freezing the whole way from the train stop and then all the way up to this hunter's lodge in the middle of the mountainside. By the time Kanda had clambered all the way up, he was ready to return to the Black Order with an unfinished mission, if just to kill the Supervisor.
It was snowing, freezing and positively the most annoying place in the middle of June. Kanda was ready to give up the quest for Innocence, but his pride wouldn't allow it. He glanced at the fire which he had built earlier. It was slowly becoming smaller and smaller, telling him that it had been a few hours since he had arrived. The Finder was late. Maybe he had fallen off that cliff back there, the one with the snowy black rocks all the way to the bottom? God knows how close Kanda had been to sliding down it.
A figure obscured Kanda's view of the snow and a Finder entered the small cabin, disappointing the samurai's vivid imagination of a painful and snowy death. The man brushed off the snow which had gathered on his customary beige coat and then placed down the communication box from his back. Kanda took the chance to inspect the Finder as he made himself at home in the small hunter's lodge. He was a tall man, almost taller than the samurai himself, and he was older, perhaps in his thirties. Kanda could see a couple of scars on his face where it was visible, but he had bandages around a half of it that also covered his hands, so probably his arms as well.
It wasn't unusual to see a Finder with bandages. They either wore them because of current injuries, scars, disease or some other reason, which Kanda wasn't privy to. Anyways, after working with Toma a few times, the Exorcist was used to the thick level of white fabric covering someone's skin. But, that was beside the point. He hadn't seen this man before (as much as he tried not to remember faces, he often did and blamed it on his swordsman instincts of taking in his surroundings), so he was either a transfer or a newbie. And, if it was the latter, he was going to murder Komui. A couple of newbies he could take. First it had been that Stupid Rabbit and his entourage. Then, it had been a couple of Finders. Next, a suicidal Exorcist who had gotten himself killed all too soon. Kanda had gotten a lot of pain for that one. He had even returned the man's Innocence, but, no, he was supposed to keep the damn idiot alive. It was not the samurai's fault that the guy decided to take an Akuma bullet straight on to protect some villagers. Suicidal, Kanda had said.
Benjamin, him, Kanda had somehow survived. As annoying as he had been in the beginning, the Finder was a quick study. After only seven missions with Kanda, he knew precisely how not to irritate the samurai and to make the whole ordeal more comfortable for both the Exorcist and the clients. Not to mention that he had kept his mouth shut about Sasha. Maybe that had redeemed him in Kanda's eyes?
''Kanda-sama." The Finder spoke, his voice a slow, relaxed tenor. The samurai's eyes fixed on his, glaring him down. "My name is Mark, I will be your Finder for the mission." He introduced himself professionally enough. Maybe he is a transfer, Kanda pondered. He hoped that the man was a transfer.
"Tch." The Exorcist replied. "You're late. Our meet was two hours ago." The samurai stood, buttoning up his black coat and preparing to grab Mugen and leave. He was ready to start the mission.
"Please, forgive me." The Finder replied. "I was delayed, first at the Order, and then later on the border of Switzerland. They had made a mistake with my papers when making my passport." The Finder was rummaging through the pocket on the communication box now.
"I don't care. You were late." Kanda growled out. Then, the Exorcist paused. "They don't request passports in Europe anymore." There was a tense silence in the room, the Finder not moving.
"Well, that didn't last long." The man finally spoke. "And I had thought that I would be able to get your Innocence before you noticed." The Finder, no, the Akuma, looked up, connecting eyes with the samurai. Before his gaze, the creature transformed, showing its deformed, ugly body. It was a Level Two.
Kanda drew Mugen before the Akuma could fully leave its shell, slashing its legs off. "Tell me." The Exorcist growled. "What is your ability?" Mugen's tip was now lodged right into the small gap which connected the Akuma's neck gears with its head.
It smirked widely. "I can take on the shape of the last person that I've devoured." It replied, as if that would sicken Kanda. The samurai grinned widely right back, twisting Mugen slowly, so that it was dislodging the gears of the Akuma's neck.
"Good." He replied in a dangerous whisper. "Now I can cross it off my list."
The Level Two seemed shocked, its eyes widening. "You are a cold one, not caring for your comrade." It told the Exorcist, smirking again. But, Kanda didn't care what it said. He twisted Mugen around with a little more force than necessary, causing the Akuma to lose its head, bursting into flame. It was dead.
"He wasn't my comrade." Kanda sighed, realizing that this meant that he would need to stumble about the mountains on his own, looking for the darn Innocence phenomenon. The samurai cursed his Supervisor yet again, promising pain upon his return, like he always did when he was discontent on a mission.
He cleaned Mugen on the remains of the Finder's cloak and then placed it back into its sheath. It was time to leave. He had a long night before him. As the samurai passed the communication box next to the door, he smelled something familiar.
Daffodils.
Kanda turned to the box, looking at the open compartment. It was usually used by the Finders to store something personal or something that he would later pass onto the Exorcist. He spotted a letter, a little crumpled from the journey and grabbed it. The smell of daffodils got stronger.
Kanda easily enough spotted the lipstick kiss imprint on the back, feeling his ears heat up as they undoubtedly went red. That cheeky whore. He would get quite a few questions when he returned to the Order, that was sure. Kanda gave in and brought the envelope closer to his nose, inhaling deeply. In his mind, he saw Sasha, smiling, like that day when she had first met him. He could see her face through the glass of the train door, smiling, her annoying copper bangs too short on her round face, her eyes sparkling knowingly. Kanda lowered the envelope to his side before the image could take on another, more inappropriate note. He was no stranger to the way his memories of Sasha usually became fantasies.
The door creaked as Kanda left the hunter's lodge, the fire spreading from the Akuma's dead body behind him, leaving a thick smell of motor oil in the air. He felt them before he saw them. There were at least a dozen other demons, waiting for him outside. Kanda stuffed the letter into his coat, right above his heart, before he drew Mugen. His fingers found the familiar steel without him looking, like they always did before activation.
He sneezed. Komui was going to pay.
"Innocence, activate."
That's all until next time folks!
I HAVE TWO QUESTIONS FOR YOU GUYS:
Would you like a Christmas one-shot, separate from this story, with some spoilers for the future chapters?
Sasha is based on a historical figure, can you guess who? (irrelevant to the story)
Fun historical facts used in this chapter:
In the 19th century the tips of quills became metal nibs (mass produced by Britain), and the first idea of a ballpoint pen was put on paper (but not exploited commercially). Also, Lewis Edson Waterman, insurance broker invented the first proper fountain pen (1884).
Switzerland actually has a popular ski resort which has snow in June called Saas Fee. It was featured in the song 'Last Christmas' by 'Wham!'
Passports were actually not required in Europe from 1861 (France abolishes visa and passports and other countries follow suit) to 1914 (WWI).
Reviews:
Karina: Hey! Yeah, I needed Kanda to reach that distinction with Sasha on his own. At first, he didn't want to remember her, then, she's just a random person and now, she's a woman. He's truly in for some tough times xD Just imagine how Sasha would react if she finds out? Or even worse, Lavi?
I can't wait until their relationship progresses to awkward first dates and romance XD
All the best!
cokaserbia: Hehehehe, evo ti jos jedno poglavlje, da se razonodis… Pazi, Kanda jes spor, i pomalo glup, ali nije ni on toliko xD Morala sam da napravim nesto sugestivno, mislim da je cinjenica da je Sasa skroz otvorena na temu seksa jos to doteralo njega do zida skroz XD
E, Kanda me kolje kad treba da ga pisem ponekad… Ali mislim da mi fino ispada, ono, bas kao pravi Kandasti kreten xD Ben je neocekivano postao bitan lik u mojim planovima, ali mi je bas nekako postao drag.. Planirala sam da ga koknem na pocetku hahahaha Ali, Kandi je potreban neki muski 'prijatelj' sada, i to neko ko zna Sasu.
Drago mi je da ti se videlo kako Kanda 'razgovara'. Realno, mislim da bi tako otprilike izgledala njegova konverzacija sa Dzerijem u mangi hahahah Mogu da je vidim na stanici xD
Bio mi je bas rizik to sa Linali.. Nisam bila sigurna kako to da uzmem, zato sto mnogi ljudi njih stavljaju kao paring, ali ja to jednostavno ne mogu da smislim… Tako da sam sto pre napravila poredjenje sa njom, da odvojim lepo kod Kande ta osecanja. Linali volem, ali je volem sa Alenom :3
Nemam pojma sta cu sa Lavijem jos da radim… Iskreno, duplo mi je teze njega nego Kandu da pisem… A jos kad imaju zajednicku scenu! Gah…
Mislim da ce biti kanon (da, tad se ne dira originalni timeline) ali cu jos videti… Imam neke planove, pa cu da smislim… U principu, fokusiram se na razvoj licnosti i te drame… Videcu kako mi dune, iskreno xD
