Hotaru Tomoe's home – LA USA year 2001
When Hotaru Tomoe arrived home from school that day, the sight of her father talking silently with a complete stranger met her. A tall man, he looked like how a noble in the 18th century should look in her opinion. And she instinctively knew there was something important about him.
Before she had a chance to make her presence known, her chest contracted and terrible coughing teared through her fragile body. The man with her father was immediately by her side, rubbing her soothingly on the back, his hand sending out an otherworldly warmness that seemed to sooth the cough.
"Easy there," he gently coached her, never stopping his comforting rubbing. "Breathe in…and out. Follow your heartbeat."
Obeying his hypnotic voice, she soon found herself being able to breath easily. The stranger let her go but stayed in his slightly crouching position next to her.
"That was a nasty cough," he sympathetically said, his voice kind. "Do you get them often, Hotaru?"
Not surprised that he knew her name, as he seemed to know her father, she carefully nodded.
"Yes," she admitted. "I've had them for as long as I remember. They have never passed this fast before though."
The man nodded.
"Hmm," he replied. "I'm Angelus Lamia. You can call me Angel if you want to."
Hotaru gave the man another tentative smile.
"May I call you Tenchi?" she asked. "It's Japanese for angel."
Angelus nodded, a gentle smile lighting up his face in a way she only could call beautiful. It seemed familiar to her…
"Yes," he softly said. "Once, another young woman called me that. You remind me of her. Can I call you Hotaru?"
She nodded with a small smile.
"That or Hota-chan," she agreed. "My friends use the latter."
Angelus grinned at her while managing to stay serious somehow.
"Well, Hota-chan," he warmly said, "as I am sure you already have figured out, I'm here about the ad for shared living arrangement. Your father said that he would be traveling much the during the coming years and that he didn't want you to live alone?"
Hotaru smilingly nodded.
"Yes," she said. "What do you have to offer?"
Angelus shrugged eloquently.
"Well," he said, "I own a former hotel, the Hyperion, where I live together with a number of other tenants. We all have a private room with adjoining bathroom, but we share all other facilities, which includes the library, kitchen, living room and a gym. You will be expected to help with the house shores, but in turn, the rent will be low – it's just to cover our expenses. Everything but 'personal' articles is provided so to speak."
Her father stepped up to Angelus, adding his voice to the discussion.
"I have already spoken to Mr. Angelus here," he detachedly said, "and the living arrangements do seem perfect for you, Hotaru. He has agreed for a trial month without payment before you have to make the final decision as well. It's up to you."
Hotaru nodded. She liked this man, and he seemed to be worthy of her trust. It seemed to be worth a chance.
"Why not?" she flippantly said, her attitude coming from the years of living in CA.
Angelus nodded and held out his hand, his face more serious than before, but strangely pleased as well.
"Then we say so, Hota-chan," he said.
She nodded.
"Yes, Tenchi," Hotaru softly said. "Agreed."
And the ancient memories blazed in her head.
Michiru Kaiou's Mansion – LA USA year 2001
Michiru Kaiou, Mich to her friends, took a deep breath, biting her lush under lip before relaxing her grip on the bow and setting it on the strings. Closing her eyes, she started to guide the bow over the strings of the violin, just to stop, wincing. Placing her violin on the velvet cushioned pillow before her, she loosened the bow with graceful, precise movements, putting it down next to the violin. First then, she let her annoyance show.
"Zut!" she cursed. Sacre, merde, damn, shit and fucking hell!"
Continuing to curse for a minute or two, she intensively wished that she knew her language by birth, Japanese. There were only so many curses in every language after all.
Counting to ten, Mich dragged her slender fingers through her shoulder length, naturally curly dark blonde hair before tightening her bow and picking up her violin again. Then she began the meticulous work of tuning her violin to perfection once again.
"These temperature changes are really annoying," she muttered to herself.
This was the third time she had done that this day, and it was quite frankly getting on her nerves. She had woken up this morning with a melody in her head, and she was eager to make it reality. It proved to be more difficult than it should though, since each time Mich unpacked her violin in between PR events and business lunches, it had changed pitch due to the weather. She didn't give up though, and now she was looking forwards to having the rest of the day to herself.
Running the bow over the strings once again, her trained ears listening for the slightest disharmony, Mich smiled. Finally! Breathing deeply once again, she relaxed and let her fingers begin their intricate dance over the strings. Completely harmonious with her bow. The music streaming from the beautiful instrument entranced her, and when the melody playing in her head ended almost four minutes later, she was smiling broadly.
A quiet rhythmic clapping from her left startled the young woman, causing her to whirl around, holding her violin protectively.
"Quoi?" she exclaimed, surprised and not so little wary of the person who'd managed to make his way to her through her secured house to her secluded garden. Which was tucked in between the main building of her large not-quite-a-mansion house and the custom-built, white colored house that roomed her studio and a small apartment she usually lived in when she didn't have company.
Searching for the creature making the sound, Mich found her eyes drawn to the monstrous fountain in the middle of the garden. A man had positioned himself on the edge of it, ignoring the drops wetting his cloths from the spewing mouth of some sort of deer with a lion's head and paws.
Studying the man for a second or two, Mich took notice of his long, slender fingers, suitable for a number of instruments. His slightly impressed expression told her that he liked, maybe even loved music. In her opinion, that made him a possible musician himself or at least a man she gladly would accept as her student as it promised devotion. If he told her why he had broken into her home that is.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded. "Who are you, how did you get in?"
The man rose and walked over to her, not caring that his maroon shirt was plastered against his skin by now. Stopping two feet away, he held out his hand.
"Angelus Lamia," he introduced himself. "I set up an appointment with your secretary to meet you this afternoon. She was the one who let me in."
Frowning, Mich raked her mind for details about the discussion she'd had with the middle-aged woman not even an hour ago. She had been so impatient to be alone with her violin she hadn't even heard half of what her secretary had told her. But now when she thought of it, she seemed to recall that the elder woman had said something about an appointment.
Relaxing with a sigh, Mich put away her violin again.
"Yes, I remember now," she tiredly said. "I'm sorry. There has been much to do this day."
Angelus nodded and smiled at her.
"Yes, your secretary told me as much," he admitted. "I hope you will be able to relax the rest of this day."
Liking this man already, Mich smiled beautifully at him and took his hand.
"Call me Mich," she began. "I…"
Before she got any further, a tingling sensation originating from their handshake traveled through her body, awakening her every cell, every atom. And as if a veil had been pulled from her memory, she…knew.
