Chapter 5
Quatre was burning in his dreams. He opened one aqua eye in confusion, but the pain didn't stop as he awoke. If anything, it intensified. Panicking, he stared at his hand, the cause of the pain, but it was as plain as ever. What was going on? He leapt out of bed, as the burning feeling slowly spread across his hand and up his wrist. It was becoming almost unbearable. He ran around his room like a madman until he was out on his balcony, somehow hoping that the cool morning air would stop the pain.
Suddenly he noticed someone was sitting outside the gates, on the street. The person was far away, but there was something too familiar about that figure. Quatre had a strange feeling... then he was racing downstairs.
By the time he got to the person, Quatre's arm was burning up to the elbow. It only took him a second to know who it was; Trowa. His eyes were closed as though he were asleep. Quatre paused, confused. What was a vampire doing out in the morning? He gasped. The sunlight! As he looked, he could see Trowa's hand smoking where the light hit it. His skin was burning away. Without a second thought, Quatre grabbed Trowa by the shoulders and began to drag him into the shade. The vampire fluttered his eyes and hissed softly, but made no other motion.
The pain in Quatre's own arm subsided as soon as Trowa was out of the light. He was baffled. Obviously the pain he had felt was connected to the vampire's pain, but his empathetic skills should have only sensed emotional stress, not true physical hurt. Nothing like this had ever happened before. He could only ponder the reason. Quatre glanced over. One cool green eye stared at him, devoid of emotion.
"Why did you do that?" Trowa's voice was very soft, almost weak sounding.
Quatre frowned slightly. "I felt this pain, worse than anything I've ever known. It... it was your pain." He looked at his arm. "The sunlight was hurting me, too."
Trowa's eyes opened wide in surprise, but he didn't say anything.
"Why were you out here when the sun is rising?" Quatre asked. Trowa was once again silent.
"Well, I'm not letting you burn here. Come with me." He smiled just a little.
Trowa felt himself almost smiling too, though there was some bitterness behind it. This boy, this human wanted to help him. Again. Trowa couldn't understand it, but he wasn't about to deny it either. Part of him still wanted to die. If he did that, though, Quatre would suffer too. Slowly, he stood up.
"Where are we going?"
It was still very early, only around 6:30 in the morning, so Quatre had very little trouble bringing Trowa into the house. The only people awake were servants, and they were used to not asking many questions.
"Master Quatre," one of them exclaimed. "We had no idea you were expecting guests this morning. Is there anything you need done?"
"Ah, no," Quatre replied. "This is a personal friend of mine. We'll be fine."
Honestly, Quatre didn't know what to do. What could he do with a vampire? He hesitantly led Trowa upstairs to a windowless lobby, and sat down on the sofa. Trowa sat opposite of him and stared amusingly. There was only a minute or two of awkward silence when there was an unexpected knocking at the door.
"Who's there?" Quatre asked, nervously looking at Trowa.
"Master Quatre, Mr. Peacecraft is here to see you."
The door opened. Milliardo walked in, looking surprisingly haggard. Usually the man was fastidiously groomed, but he obviously hadn't been caring about his appearance recently.
"The servant said you already had company, " he said as he sat down.
Quatre looked around. Trowa was nowhere to be seen.
"It's strange to see you this early," he replied, trying to change the subject. "What brings you here?"
"I can't stop thinking about my sister. I've looked for any information, even the slightest hint, and there's nothing. I'm going crazy, Quatre. I vowed I wouldn't rest until I avenged Relena, but nothing can explain it."
"Milliardo, perhaps there isn't an explanation. You need to take care of yourself, and quit worrying about revenge."
"No," came a silky voice. Quatre glanced up. Trowa was standing behind Milliardo, having appeared out of nowhere.
"Sometimes revenge is the only meaning of one's existence."
Milliardo started. "Who are you?"
Before Quatre could think of anything to say, Trowa spoke again.
"Quatre hired me to investigate your sisters death. Doing so, I discovered what happened to her."
This got Milliardo's attention. "But Quatre just said there wasn't an explanation..."
"He was trying to protect you. But if you're serious about what you said, it is better for you to know the truth and do something about it."
"You know what happened to her?"
"Beyond doubt. It may seem unbelievable to you, however."
"Trowa," Quatre cut in, "why are you doing this?"
The vampire narrowed his dark green eyes. "Don't you want to know what happened to your betrothed?" His voice was almost mocking. Quatre was silent afterwards.
"Tell me what happened to her," Milliardo said.
"It was a vampire who killed your sister."
"What? Vampires don't exist. How dare you mock me like this?" He was obviously angry, as Quatre had feared. Milliardo wasn't the type to accept anything easily, and this was the same.
Trowa was just as cool as before. "What explanation do you want? I'm telling you the truth, and there are more than enough facts to prove it."
"Why would she be killed by a vampire?"
"It was probably nothing personal against her. It is common for vampires to target weak girls. Think about the night she died. When was the last you saw her?"
Milliardo paused. "She was going home early from the ball."
"Was she alone?"
"No... some young man was escorting her home. I'd never seen him before, but he looked like any other aristocratic gentleman."
"Have you ever seen him since?"
"No." He frowned. "I haven't exactly been looking though."
"Perhaps you should, but you won't find him. Do you remember what he looked like?"
"Dark brown hair, cut fairly short. His eyes were blue, I think. He wasn't very tall, only about the height of Quatre. Are you saying this guy was a vampire?
"I know who it is, and yes, he is a vampire. Undoubtedly the same that killed her."
Milliardo was still incredulous. "It is suspicious about this young man, but I simply can't believe this ludicrous story about vampires."
Quatre had been listening intently the entire time, and finally spoke up. "Milliardo, this may make sense, though. You said yourself that everything else is unexplainable."
Trowa smiled. "Go down by the dock in the evening, and ask some of the sailors about vampires. They'll tell you more than you need to know."
Milliardo stood up to leave. "I will think about what you said. But..." he turned from the door to look Trowa in the face, "what can we do if it really is a vampire?"
He laughed a little. "We kill him, of course."
Quatre was burning in his dreams. He opened one aqua eye in confusion, but the pain didn't stop as he awoke. If anything, it intensified. Panicking, he stared at his hand, the cause of the pain, but it was as plain as ever. What was going on? He leapt out of bed, as the burning feeling slowly spread across his hand and up his wrist. It was becoming almost unbearable. He ran around his room like a madman until he was out on his balcony, somehow hoping that the cool morning air would stop the pain.
Suddenly he noticed someone was sitting outside the gates, on the street. The person was far away, but there was something too familiar about that figure. Quatre had a strange feeling... then he was racing downstairs.
By the time he got to the person, Quatre's arm was burning up to the elbow. It only took him a second to know who it was; Trowa. His eyes were closed as though he were asleep. Quatre paused, confused. What was a vampire doing out in the morning? He gasped. The sunlight! As he looked, he could see Trowa's hand smoking where the light hit it. His skin was burning away. Without a second thought, Quatre grabbed Trowa by the shoulders and began to drag him into the shade. The vampire fluttered his eyes and hissed softly, but made no other motion.
The pain in Quatre's own arm subsided as soon as Trowa was out of the light. He was baffled. Obviously the pain he had felt was connected to the vampire's pain, but his empathetic skills should have only sensed emotional stress, not true physical hurt. Nothing like this had ever happened before. He could only ponder the reason. Quatre glanced over. One cool green eye stared at him, devoid of emotion.
"Why did you do that?" Trowa's voice was very soft, almost weak sounding.
Quatre frowned slightly. "I felt this pain, worse than anything I've ever known. It... it was your pain." He looked at his arm. "The sunlight was hurting me, too."
Trowa's eyes opened wide in surprise, but he didn't say anything.
"Why were you out here when the sun is rising?" Quatre asked. Trowa was once again silent.
"Well, I'm not letting you burn here. Come with me." He smiled just a little.
Trowa felt himself almost smiling too, though there was some bitterness behind it. This boy, this human wanted to help him. Again. Trowa couldn't understand it, but he wasn't about to deny it either. Part of him still wanted to die. If he did that, though, Quatre would suffer too. Slowly, he stood up.
"Where are we going?"
It was still very early, only around 6:30 in the morning, so Quatre had very little trouble bringing Trowa into the house. The only people awake were servants, and they were used to not asking many questions.
"Master Quatre," one of them exclaimed. "We had no idea you were expecting guests this morning. Is there anything you need done?"
"Ah, no," Quatre replied. "This is a personal friend of mine. We'll be fine."
Honestly, Quatre didn't know what to do. What could he do with a vampire? He hesitantly led Trowa upstairs to a windowless lobby, and sat down on the sofa. Trowa sat opposite of him and stared amusingly. There was only a minute or two of awkward silence when there was an unexpected knocking at the door.
"Who's there?" Quatre asked, nervously looking at Trowa.
"Master Quatre, Mr. Peacecraft is here to see you."
The door opened. Milliardo walked in, looking surprisingly haggard. Usually the man was fastidiously groomed, but he obviously hadn't been caring about his appearance recently.
"The servant said you already had company, " he said as he sat down.
Quatre looked around. Trowa was nowhere to be seen.
"It's strange to see you this early," he replied, trying to change the subject. "What brings you here?"
"I can't stop thinking about my sister. I've looked for any information, even the slightest hint, and there's nothing. I'm going crazy, Quatre. I vowed I wouldn't rest until I avenged Relena, but nothing can explain it."
"Milliardo, perhaps there isn't an explanation. You need to take care of yourself, and quit worrying about revenge."
"No," came a silky voice. Quatre glanced up. Trowa was standing behind Milliardo, having appeared out of nowhere.
"Sometimes revenge is the only meaning of one's existence."
Milliardo started. "Who are you?"
Before Quatre could think of anything to say, Trowa spoke again.
"Quatre hired me to investigate your sisters death. Doing so, I discovered what happened to her."
This got Milliardo's attention. "But Quatre just said there wasn't an explanation..."
"He was trying to protect you. But if you're serious about what you said, it is better for you to know the truth and do something about it."
"You know what happened to her?"
"Beyond doubt. It may seem unbelievable to you, however."
"Trowa," Quatre cut in, "why are you doing this?"
The vampire narrowed his dark green eyes. "Don't you want to know what happened to your betrothed?" His voice was almost mocking. Quatre was silent afterwards.
"Tell me what happened to her," Milliardo said.
"It was a vampire who killed your sister."
"What? Vampires don't exist. How dare you mock me like this?" He was obviously angry, as Quatre had feared. Milliardo wasn't the type to accept anything easily, and this was the same.
Trowa was just as cool as before. "What explanation do you want? I'm telling you the truth, and there are more than enough facts to prove it."
"Why would she be killed by a vampire?"
"It was probably nothing personal against her. It is common for vampires to target weak girls. Think about the night she died. When was the last you saw her?"
Milliardo paused. "She was going home early from the ball."
"Was she alone?"
"No... some young man was escorting her home. I'd never seen him before, but he looked like any other aristocratic gentleman."
"Have you ever seen him since?"
"No." He frowned. "I haven't exactly been looking though."
"Perhaps you should, but you won't find him. Do you remember what he looked like?"
"Dark brown hair, cut fairly short. His eyes were blue, I think. He wasn't very tall, only about the height of Quatre. Are you saying this guy was a vampire?
"I know who it is, and yes, he is a vampire. Undoubtedly the same that killed her."
Milliardo was still incredulous. "It is suspicious about this young man, but I simply can't believe this ludicrous story about vampires."
Quatre had been listening intently the entire time, and finally spoke up. "Milliardo, this may make sense, though. You said yourself that everything else is unexplainable."
Trowa smiled. "Go down by the dock in the evening, and ask some of the sailors about vampires. They'll tell you more than you need to know."
Milliardo stood up to leave. "I will think about what you said. But..." he turned from the door to look Trowa in the face, "what can we do if it really is a vampire?"
He laughed a little. "We kill him, of course."