Twenty-Nine Degrees
Part I: Resistance
By Pata
The cave was dark and cool. Drips of water fell from the ceiling and landed with gentled pings against the ground. Stalagmites jutted up from the groud; stalactites hung threateningly from the roof. A damp mist wound itself through the cave, licking into the corners of the dark night.
Hikari huddled behind a stalagmite, her head resting on her knees, which were drawn up against her chest. Beside her lay the long black pistol, and, next to it, the knife. She didn't look at them; she stared constantly out her window at the waning moon, averting her gaze.
A wolf howled. Hikari did not move.
She stared stolidly ahead, images of her master - she shuddered to use the term - floating across her mind. Her lips still tingled with the feeling of his kiss, and his blue icy eyes still glared at her from the recesses of her subconscious. She had known he couldn't be trusted, but even Hikari could not resist temptation.
She'd tried to kill him. It was just one death - to protect herself. One wouldn't make much differnce. There were six billion people in the world, for God's sake. But he was much to experienced for her. She had been able to resist him, even had she wanted to. Some deep part of her exsistence was glad for this new confinement, and with it a new freedom.
A drop of water splashing onto her head and ran down the side of her face, almost like a tear.
"I have got to get out of here," she voiced to no one.
*
The phone rang for the third time.
"Fine, if none of you will get it, I will!" Yamato Ishida yelled to his father and his father's "guest" - Yamato knew it was his father's girlfriend, and he resented that only slightly, but he didn't say anything.
He picked it up. "Hullo?"
"Moshi moshi, Yamato," said a female voice, one Yamato barely recognized.
Yamato practically dropped the reciever. "Mrs. Kamiya? I, uh, well...hi!"
She sounded worried. Her voice shook slightly as she spoke. "Is Hikari at your house for any reason?"
"No," Yamato said, "I haven't seen her in ages. Why do you ask?"
"She hasn't been home," said Hikari's mother. "She is never out this late. I already called Takeru and Koushiro, but they haven't seen her either. I am very worried for her; I think I may have to get in my car and go looking for her. But Taichi is already out, and I don't want to leave the house alone..."
"I'll go looking," Yamato volunteered. "I've got a car. It's a peice of crap, granted, but a car nonetheless."
"Oh, would you?" Hikari's mother's voice was choked with tears. "That'd be so wonderful! Oh, arigatou Yama-kun, I cannot thank you enough!"
"It's fine," Yamato said. "Ja ne."
"Good luck...ja ne..." and she hung up the phone.
*
Yamato's car was nothing special, though surely not "a peice of crap". A small red coupe, not in bad shape; and he preferred the term 'cozy' to the term 'cramped.' A bunch of papers - mostly trigonometry homework - littered the seats, and an old fashioned handle clutch adorned the steering wheel.
It drove well too, espcially at night, it's headlights could blind a man with his eyes closed. They were closer to x-rays than to lights, in fact. Not only that, but one honk of the horn was enough to wake the dead.
Yamato had the window rolled down, despite the extreme coldness of the winter night, lest he hear Hikari talking. A bit of snow was sprinkled on the ground; the kind when a storm is coming but is not quite upon you. The road was icy but not enough to be exceedingly dangerous. If Hikari was out here, he wouldn't be surprised if she had frozen to death.
He rounded a corner, feeling the wheels skid slightly on the ice. A small girl was walking down the street; she seemed almost to glowing slightly was some unearthly light. It had to be Hikari.
"Hikari!" he yelled.
She did not turn to look at him nor acknowledge his exsistence, she only continued to look straight ahead and walk as though a zombie. That scared him much more than he wanted to admit, and the hairs on the back of his neck were beginning to rise. To arouse Hikari from her stupor, and partially to quell this new terror, Yamato brought his fist down on the horn.
Hikari jerked abruptly and the light surrounded her went out like someone had flipped a switch. For a breif second Yamato thought he saw the light reflect on something shiny in her hand, but he convinced himself it was naught but a trick of the night.
"Hullo, Yamato-kun," she said formally, bowing slightly. "What brings you here?"
Put off by her polite and apparently oblivious manner, Yamato snapped, "What are you doing out so late?"
Hikari explored the back of her neck with her hand. "Ah, just out for a walk. Getting some fresh air, you know..."
"It's one in the morning, Hikari."
She didn't speak. She didn't even flinch. She was so unnaturally calm and in control that it almost made Yamato suspicious. He sighed. "Get in."
She opened the door and took the seat next to him, placing the papers delicately on the floor. No word was uttered Yamato drove Hikari home. No breath was drawn nor released - each too uncertain of the other's intentions to voice anything that might be taken the wrong way.
She was careful not to show him the knife concealed within her fist.
*
The world of day, its bitterness and cark,
No longer have the power to make me weep;
I welcome this communion of the dark
As toilers welcome sleep.
*
Resistance is Futile