For Want of the Life, Pt. 2
He recounted the whole duration of their stay in Yomotsu—well, most of it, excluding the unfortunate incident with Amane and Akuha's brutal disposal of the succubus slaver—eventually coming to the climax of their meeting with the succubus Matron, and Akuha's ruse brought to light. Fairy Tale's eggs had been implanted in the sacred tree at the heart of the land, to drain the spiritual barrier protecting the city (his listener's stoic, attentive face betrayed no opinion of this news). He told Hayate of how when he, Tsukune, had discovered this, he had dashed off abruptly to warn the succubi, but was inescapably restrained by Akuha's strength (the exact details of this, too, he omitted). And upon being dragged back to where they had left her sisters, they'd discovered the two Fairy Tale sentries who had accompanied them flat on the pavement, out cold, and the two girls nowhere in sight.
His heart had sunk – if Moka and the others merely hadn't been there upon his return, it would've been one thing. However, the unconscious guards told it clear as day in Tsukune's mind – there had been a struggle, and now Moka was missing.
It was only after a minute of him running around to the few people passing nearby, asking anyone with increasing alarm if they'd seen what happened—unfortunately, that particular block happened to be rather sparse, and no one had witnessed anything—before he noticed Akuha. Motionless, she stood rooted where she had stopped, her dark mane and cloak fluttering noisily in the sudden gust. Looking carefully as he approached her, he spotted what appeared to be a barely contained tremble dance along her body. For the briefest of moments, his mind entertained the notion that she was merely shivering from the nippy wind that had picked up.
A glance at her face erased the thought. Widened eyes, not glimpsed since he had witnessed her kill the assassins who'd threatened Moka as a child at the old manor, now stared blankly ahead, flitting around to various spots within her field of vision; upon the hand held at her side, a couple of fingers twitched, squirming as if she intended to ball them into a fist, but could not concentrate on the act. Her lower jaw hung slightly slack, small, silent breaths sliding out over her tongue until her lips stood parched. Her voice was equally soft, so that Tsukune almost didn't catch her discomfortingly steady words.
"Where is Moka, Tsukune?" It was a near whisper, but he heard it. Her tone was smooth, but punctuated with something that made Tsukune shrink back ever so slightly. "Where is she?" Again, a whisper. "I left her here, and now she's gone. Why is she gone, Tsukune?"
"I-I don't—there wasn't anyone looking at the time, and—nobody saw anything, they said. It looks like they were attacked, but…" he trailed off, his own heart too heavy with that sorrowful fact to worry about relaying the news. He hadn't had a chance to linger on his growing despair, however, for his ears suddenly faced the grave danger of being violently annihilated.
Akuha's abrupt shriek pierced the air: "Where. Is. She?"
All attention was turned to their spot, from that block and the next. No sooner had Tsukune covered his ears and opened his eyes again than he saw the now ferociously animated vampire bursting forward to the people he had just questioned himself. An expletive or two flashed in his head as she approached a startled young woman walking by at that moment, and he feared for her immediate fate. Not good!
Thankfully, Akuha had not yet set herself on bloody murder, and instead seized the nearest succubus by the collar of her shirt, her dark eyes alight with wildfire and crazed vengeance. "The girl who was there, the one with white hair! You must have seen her! Where is she?" She seethed at the woman, who had spluttered out her ignorance and her apologies in white terror, before shoving her aside and chasing down the next person she could see.
For his part, Tsukune could only chase after Akuha helplessly, trying to catch the rampaging young woman as she dashed along the rest of the now gathering crowd, frenziedly interrogating anyone she could, before her wrath got the better of her and left a pile of mutilated corpses splattered along the street.
Tsukune was, ultimately, relieved it hadn't come to that. He didn't want all those innocent deaths on his conscience, whether by his hand or not. Not to mention, a trail of bodies would've made their eventual escape far more complicated and, frankly, uncertain.
No, before events had could take such a turn for the ugly, Akuha had abandoned her fruitless quest for information – being frustrated by timid, fearful cries of ignorance – as her fury swelled like a raging volcano, rocking the ground with massive explosions of terrible power. Leaping clear of the crowd with a snarl, she'd taken to activating her Jigentou and ferociously swinging, striking, almost flailing her lethal hands about into the surrounding buildings. Tsukune looked on, disbelief etched across his features, scared to approach and even more so attempt to stop the girl, as she cut through the glass windows of surrounding buildings, sliced her flattened hands and the invisible energy extending from them through brick and stone as if they were no more than pudding. His mind raced, trying to conceive despite all odds how he might end Akuha's terrifying, not to mention property damaging, warpath.
Ultimately, though, it had been her own untamed fury that had put a stop to the madness. Perhaps primal emotions had overridden her cool, martial discipline, for not until it was right on top of her did she notice the collapsing rubble of a small, abandoned store that had succumbed to her lethal assault. Buried within an instant under the ruins, a hefty chunk of stone had struck the side of her head, and her body crumpled to the ground like a boneless doll.
Hearing the approaching sirens of the succubi's police force several blocks off, Tsukune's panic was nearing overdrive. In hindsight, he supposed it would have been the right thing to do to simply remain there among the ruins—sans the crowd, which had fled in terror at Akuha's destructive onslaught—wait for law enforcement, and inform them of Akuha's plot to siphon off the entire city's protective energy barrier. With any luck, she would've been taken into custody, and Tsukune would have thrown a sizeable wrench into Fairy Tale's schemes, robbing them of both a target site and a powerful commander in one fell swoop. Even with this knowledge in mind, however, at that time…he just couldn't go through with it. Sure, he could've left Akuha to, he presumed, a high security prison, or wherever they put dangerous criminals there; he could do that, and return to the airship outside, tell the crew Akuha had fallen, then try to use their resources to find Moka. Of course, upon the slightest examination, this plan was frail on its own. Even in the unlikely event he managed to convince the crew to begin a search, it wasn't like they would be unaware of his lies for long. News would no doubt leak of Akuha's imprisonment, at which point if he wasn't killed outright, he would probably be thrown back in the brig while they attempted to spring their leader – and if they succeeded, he could only cringe with dread at what his fate might be when she returned. All this assuming, also, he hadn't been held as Akuha's co-conspirator and locked away himself from the beginning.
No, such a plan was not a viable one given his circumstances. He would need Akuha's help to locate Moka, wherever she had gone. Plus…well, evil as she was, something inside of him had prevented him from leaving her to her fate. What it was, he didn't know; nevertheless, suspecting he would kick himself later, he had burst forward, the powerful muscles in his legs carrying him with ease, and dug into the rubble. There was no one left on the scene to stop him – although the sirens shrilled steadily louder with each passing moment. His training with Moka had made him strong enough to lift the slabs and bricks with relative ease, until he had reached the unconscious girl below. Her black cloak had been torn, and was smeared with dust, but she looked surprisingly fine, otherwise, a few cuts aside. Her breathing came in slow, but steadily. Clearly a mere rock to the head was not enough to kill such a powerful being, Tsukune had mused. Whether this was for better or worse, he tried not to dwell on, then.
Instead, he had grabbed Akuha, hoisting her up in piggyback style (he could feel her low breaths against the back of his neck), and fled. Cowardly or not, to leave Yomotsu unaware of the danger it was now in, he couldn't think of anything else but finding Moka. Moreover, once he'd calmed a bit, he had made a silent vow to return to warn the succubi as soon as possible, before Fairy Tale's plans could advance – this part, he omitted from his tale to Hayate.
This was where he ended it, back in the servants' lounge. The room had totally emptied of its other occupants while he'd been speaking, all off to their other various tasks around the ship, leaving him and Hayate alone at their darkened table. Their half-finished lunches sat neglected. No one spoke for what felt like minutes, instead just listening to the ceiling fans softly whirling overhead.
At last Hayate broke the silence: "I see. So, that's what happened. I'd wondered why you came back dashing at a pace I'd never thought possible for humans, Miss Akuha slung over your shoulders."
"Y-yeah…"
"Well, I can certainly understand her behavior now that I know that," he said candidly. "You know, ever since she brought Miss Moka aboard, I'd been wondering just what effect it might have on her, if something were to suddenly happen to the girl."
"What do you mean?"
A wistful smile creased the other man's face. "Come on, Tsukune. Surely you know how important the girl is to my young lady. I truly believe that Moka Akashiya means the world to Miss Akuha. She would do just about anything for her little sister without blinking, and I can only imagine the pain she's in now over this whole ordeal, and how worried she must be. Let's face it, Tsukune, I'm sure you've seen how…protective, she can be when it comes to Miss Moka."
At the reminder, Tsukune's mind briefly flashed back to his first night as prisoner on board the airship: he recalled the murderous loathing in Akuha's wilting glare, and the blood she'd shed from him at just the slightest hint of his feelings for her sister. The old scar throbbed faintly at the memory. "Oh, trust me, I have."
"Then I don't have to tell you how volatile she will be until she gets her back." Hayate sighed, then suddenly rose to his feet, gathering his bento box. "What a mess. And you have no idea what might've happened? Where Miss Moka might have gone?"
Getting up himself, Tsukune shook his head, leaning his hands on the table. "Like I said, when we got back those two soldier guys were unconscious, both Kahlua and Moka were gone, and no one had seen a thing."
"That's right, Miss Kahlua's missing, too. Though, that doesn't seem to faze my lady as much," he joked. Together they gradually made their way out of the lounge, throwing their trash in the bin. "The thought of Miss Moka being in danger is probably what troubles her most; I bet she just assumes Miss Kahlua can take care of herself."
"So can Moka, you know," Tsukune objected. "She's plenty strong, too." He could hear the conviction in his voice, and it rang true; unfortunately, it wasn't enough to ease the fear in his own gut at all the horrible fates Moka could be meeting that very moment. Forcing himself not to dwell on such negative thoughts, he reaffirmed what he said: "She's…the strongest person I've ever met."
Hayate nodded, pleasantly. "Still, I wonder. From what you said, it sounds like there was an attack, if half your party was out cold when you returned. And if that's the case, and both Miss Moka and Kahlua were missing and never came back, isn't it possible they did not leave voluntarily?"
Tsukune's eyes narrowed. He'd considered that in his speculations almost as soon as he'd returned to the ship. However: "But, what could be capable of overcoming such powerful vampires? Forcefully kidnapping them?"
"That's what gets me, as well," the servant agreed. "I've only ever seen Miss Kahlua in action, and briefly, at that, but if the younger sister is anything like them, she must be a fearsome sight to behold in battle. Off the top of my head, I can't imagine any creature that could take them down."
So conversing, the two traversed the lengthy hallway, back the way they'd come, riding the elevator to another level. It was a few moments before Tsukune realized they were, in fact, heading back in the direction of Akuha's chambers. He raised this point with his companion.
"Ah, yes. Now that you told me the story, I just figured it might be best if we confront Miss Akuha together, in hopes of encouraging her to search for her sisters, if she hasn't any plans already."
"Really?" It was true Tsukune had been planning on angrily barging into Akuha's room earlier and demanding that very information, but now, he felt a cooler head prevailing, heard whispered fears in his mind warning of the danger of reaching a hand into the lion's den. With effort, he brushed them aside. Moka's life could depend on how he acted next. "I suppose you're right." He grinned then, and laughed. "Actually, I'll feel better if you're there with me. You can protect me in case Akuha wants to kill something."
The other man flashed him an amused smile. "Are you kidding? If it comes to that, I'm using you as a shield."
On they walked, and within the next minute they'd neared Akuha's room again. Tsukune exhaled in exasperation at the sight of the two sentries from before, the armed pair remaining unmoved from their post. As they approached the door, however, a voice suddenly rang out behind them.
"Hayate! Hey, Hayate!"
Turning, Tsukune glimpsed a uniformed young brunette, some twenty paces back down the corridor, waving urgently at them. Well, at Hayate, as her address seemed to indicate.
"Hm? What is it, Lanfen?" The servant asked politely.
She gestured frantically. "One of the front searchlights is out, it looks like there's a scheduling conflict with maintenance, the guy showed up drunk, and—anyway, come on, we need your help!"
"Oh, good lord, not again," Hayate huffed. Then, tossing an apologetic look at Tsukune: "Sorry, I have to take care of this. Why don't you wait here till I get back, and we'll try to talk to Miss Akuha then?"
Mystified, Tsukune could only nod dumbly in rely, unsure of what was happening. Then, as Hayate made to depart, something suddenly struck him, and he blurted out: "Hey, wait a second! You never told me, but what are you, exactly? What type of ayashi, that is."
Pausing, the man drew in a breath, and, fixing Tsukune with a startlingly solemn look, uttered with cool ease: "Who said I was an ayashi?"
It took a moment for Tsukune to process this reply, but once he had, he could've sworn he felt his heart miss a beat. "Y-you're not an ayashi?" Realization came rushing to him like a bullet train – if this man wasn't an ayashi, there was only one other thing he could be! He had never even considered the possibility, but could there actually be, as a member of Fairy Tale, on board this very ship…a human? A potent silence hung on the air, the roots of an impossibly relieved smile starting to grow on Tsukune's lips. Hayate held his gaze, and then—
His own mouth twitched upwards, and a hardy laugh tore from his gut. "I'm just kidding! Had you going for a second there, eh? Yes, yes, I am an ayashi. Really, I am! Sorry, that was a mean joke, but I couldn't resist." His guilty grin provided stark contrast to Tsukune's surly glower.
"Yeah, yeah," the boy said dismissively. "So, are you going to tell me, or not?"
"Hm, how to put this? Let's just say, there's more than one type of vampire, Tsukune. Remember that."
The boy stood, stunned. Catching the girl called Lanfen waving him over again, Hayate cut off any response he could have uttered. "I'm sorry, I really have to go. Go hang out somewhere. I'll come find you when I'm done." With that, he took off into a jog, quickly reaching his co-worker and darting down the hall.
"Ah, wait!" Tsukune called after him. "What do you mean, 'more than one type'?" But the man had already disappeared. Left alone, Tsukune's mind began to race. Behind him stood the two guards; he could feel their gaze crawling with suspicion along his back. Clearly they were not prepared to change their stance from earlier. Not that it mattered, he supposed. Hayate had told him to wait for his return, which meant he was probably confident he could gain them both access to Akuha's room via some excuse, such as bringing her a meal…or sedatives. Whichever was necessary.
But still, the thought chewed at his mind, how long would he have to wait? It had already been days since Moka disappeared. Could he really afford to let this drag out any longer? With this much time having passed without even a glimpse of Akuha, his suspicion was growing that she actually had any plans to find her sisters.
He turned, avoiding the guards' watchful eyes, instead focusing on the door they flanked. There was no sound within. Just what was she doing in there? His fists clenched tightly. Why had she made no move after three full days? Why was she holed up in her room like it was a bunker, removed from the world, while her crew below whispered and doubted? What was she thinking? Did she even care? Tsukune had thought Akuha's one true love in this world was her little sister – had he be mistaken? For all he knew, Moka could be suffering torture this very moment, whether with water, garlic, or any number of vampire weaknesses he did or did not know about, and yet Akuha seemed content to do absolutely nothing!
His blood began to boil, and his ears felt hot. There it was again. This familiar sensation. The sweltering rage igniting in the pit of his stomach, just like before. The blood of the vampire within, sweltering, threatening to scorch the very veins through which it vigorously coursed. How dare she, claiming to love Moka when it's like she's just abandoning her now. He couldn't stand for that. Screw waiting. It couldn't be afforded. He had to see Akuha now; Hayate could join him upon his return. And so, feeling an abnormal surge of power, Tsukune took a purposeful step forward.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Meanwhile, just on the opposite side of the door, the haggard, tousle-haired young woman lay still as a log atop her bed. Shadows ringed her eyes, the lack of recent sleep apparent, as the smell of her old shirt evidenced the lack of a recent bath. Ignoring the aching, rumbling vacancy in her stomach, she stared blankly at the ceiling above, her full attention given to the monitor on the desk near her head. She waited, silently, as she had again this day, and every so often, the speakers would buzz to life, a voice would sound through, then vanish and return silence to the room. Although it was a different voice each time, each always echoed the last, carrying the same terse message to the weary vampire's ears: "No information, ma'am."
Too tired to move, Akuha lay there as these reports came in, one after the other, her agents, spies, informants, all of them, all saying the same thing. Her sisters – her Moka – were nowhere to be found.
From the moment she'd returned from Yomotsu, Akuha had holed herself up in her quarters, immediately dispatching the entirety of her considerable personal information network, sparing no amount of manpower to locate her disappeared sister. Of course, she'd first ordered an immediate sweep of the entire surrounding countryside, figuring Moka and Kahlua couldn't have gone too far so quickly, and hoping to spot them from the air. That, however, had proved a fruitless effort. Upon discovering that not a soul could be seen for miles, even from their skybound vantage point, sheer confusion had flooded Akuha's mind, along with pure terror the likes of which she had not experienced in…she could not even recall. Not even the fear she'd had on several recent occasions of being hated by Moka matched this cold dread. And with every new crackling voice that patched through, her messengers, heralds of despair, fed her anguish.
Feeling a sudden, irritated strain in her eye, Akuha lowered her lids, blocking out the room's dull light. She tried to still her breathing, to focus, to meditate on events. She'd now had several days to go over in her mind what had happened, but still she could come to no conclusions. Whatever the cause behind her sisters' disappearance, why it had transpired, or even how, along with their current whereabouts and safety – all of this was completely unknown and indiscernible to her, and gave fuel to her growing sense of helplessness.
For helpless she felt indeed. And that, perhaps, was the most foreign and, in a way, most terrifying feeling she'd ever experienced.
Whether it was those lowlifes who had tried to kidnap and hurt Moka back when they were little, getting the Shinso blood running through the veins of Akasha Bloodriver, stopping Tsukune Aono and his corrupting influence on her precious sister, or any other matter, her problems were almost always resolvable by merely destroying whatever obstacle was foolish enough to stand in her path. A quick swipe of the hand, and foes fell beneath her by the dozen. And if, by some unusual chance, she was not strong enough to defeat her enemy, she would simply put her body to the grindstone, honing and enhancing her skills, until dispatching the opponent was a matter of ease.
Such were the manner of challenges Akuha had encountered her entire life – ones with a clear, surmountable obstacle, the kind which always could, inevitably, be made to die. She was used to these types of problems. No, more than that, she was good at them. Perfect at them. She knew the art of killing inside and out, its familiarity having brought her countless victories in times past, inimitable reputation, and iron pride.
Which was why, perhaps, she now lay, sullen and desperate, upon her bed, with not a spark of strength racing through her muscles. For this was not a problem within her realm of experience. This was not an obstacle which could be seen, which could be fought, conquered, or killed. There was no obvious enemy here, one that could be made to bleed for taking her dear sister – if there was, she had no way of knowing. With her agents coming up empty in their wide-ranging searches, she was truly in the dark, grasping in an empty abyss devoid of light and path.
This was not a problem Akuha knew, and she was terrified.
As if that weren't bad enough, she lamented with an inward groan, she had completely lost control back in Yomotsu and gone berserk. How shameful, such a display in front of a lowly human like him. She could only imagine how he would lord it over her after that incident. Her pride took a hit as she remembered how she'd reacted: shrieks, cries, an uncontrollable outburst of desperation. All in the middle of public, before Tsukune's very eyes. Worse, still, she had even been informed that the boy had carried her back to the ship. Carried! On his back! Her face flushed hot at the thought. Why would he do such a thing? And what must he think of her, now? A small, simpering little girl, no doubt, weak as a fragile child who couldn't so much as blow her nose without his help.
But, who was he to judge her? A tiny, insignificant human, nothing more. He was the weak one, not her! She was a vampire, the mightiest creature on earth, with the potent blood of her indomitable ancestors flowing through her veins! She was not weak. She would never be weak again. This was the promise she had made herself, countless moons ago, and yet, here she was, rendered utterly powerless in the face of this disaster she knew not how to overcome. Huffing at a thin strand of white draped over her nose, she listened still to the gentle whirring of the monitor.
A sudden commotion outside redirected her attention. Casting her gaze over to the door, she could hear muffled voices beyond. Rising voices, angry, seemingly arguing. Then, a shout, followed by a couple of grunts and heavy thuds up against the doorway.
A moment later, the doors swung open. Akuha instinctively bolted off the bed, shifting into a defensive position, shielding her eyes from the bright light of the corridor that had been unleashed upon the dimly lit chamber. Against the source of the light, right on the threshold, a tall figure stood, a dark pillar of thick, impenetrable shadow.
"Akuha!"
The noise rang harsh in her ears, a sharp contrast to the low thrums she'd been listening to report one failure after another.
The shadow moved, quickly; perhaps it was the prolonged time she'd spent motionless atop her sheets that made her slow to react, for it crossed the empty space between her and the door and, before she knew it, stopped a foot short of her. Only now, it was no longer a shadow, and, slowly acclimating to the room's newfound radiance, she found herself meeting the heated, brown eyes of Tsukune Aono. Behind him, the slumped figures of her two guards were heaped sloppily on top of each other. "T-Tsukune…!" This was the sole exclamation she could make, too shocked at this sudden intrusion to even hurl a customary insult at the boy. "What—what is the meaning of this?"
"It's been three days, Akuha. Three days!" Tsukune's voice was raised, and shaking. "Did you forget Moka's gone? She could be anywhere in the world, could be in serious trouble, and you just—!"
He tripped over his words. Peering again past the boy, Akuha's own eyes widened at the sight of her unconscious, still armed officers who had clearly failed to keep her room secure. Then again, she mused, this was the same human who had decimated nearly an entire dining hall's worth of her ayashi crew. Perhaps it wasn't at all surprising, then, that a mere two sentries had fallen before him, if he'd gotten serious. For serious he surely seemed, the normally warm brown orbs holding a quality she'd not noticed in them before. A murky, festering darkness, trembling like a black flame deep within his eyes. And there, on his neck, faint and receding but still visible, jagged, black markings creeping up from under his collar, the skin lightening once more as they faded. A strange shudder coursed through her at the sight, jolting her, quick as lightning.
He continued; clearly, whatever was going through his mind had made him bold, as, stepping forward, he grabbed Akuha's sleeve at the shoulder. "Tell me right now. What are you planning to do to find her? Do you have any ideas where she might have gone?"
At last regaining a modicum of composure, Akuha felt the sensation depart, her brow furrowing in displeasure at Tsukune's attitude. Snatching his wrist in a death grip, she wrenched his arm outwards, taking an ounce of pleasure as he winced. "So," she hissed, "you decide to beat up my men, barge into my room, and dare to put your hands on me?" She prodded his chest sharply with two fingers. "Don't think the fact that I've let you in my bed means you can be so familiar and disrespectful."
"D-don't be ridiculous!" Tsukune stammered, flustered. "It has nothing to do with that! I just want to find Moka, that's all. Whether I like it or not, you're the only person here who can help me." He inhaled, sharply, his next words wavering: "I haven't even been able to feel if she's alive or not…"
Akuha cocked an eyebrow at that statement. "What do you mean, 'feel'?"
"I…I have a sort of connection with her," he confessed. "I can sometimes sense Moka's emotions. You know, what she's feeling, kind of. I don't have much control over when it strikes, but when it does, it's almost as if I can see inside her mind, like we become the same person, if only for a moment."
"I see." Akuha replied. She suppressed the rising envy in her heart at the revelation of this even more intimate connection Tsukune shared with her sister; now was not the time.
"But, it's never gone this long without me feeling something from her. I can't even sense if she's still alive." His voice began to crack. For the past few days, Tsukune had been able to keep a relatively cool head by focusing on gaining access to Akuha and demanding she look for Moka immediately. However, now that he was in her chambers, the full weight of Moka's disappearance was beginning to hit him, hard.
Meeting the human's gaze, Akuha was caught off guard to see a gleaming moisture in his still intense eyes. Is…is he going to cry? Because we don't know where Moka is? But that's impossible. He doesn't care about her. He's just using her, just like all humans do. Regardless of these thoughts, for the briefest instant, she could almost see her own despair mirrored in the human before her. She shook her head to rid herself of the notion, scolding herself for even thinking that way. "Look," she began, keeping her tone cross, "Don't make the mistake of thinking I don't want to find my sisters. Not that I need to tell you this, but as a matter of fact, I sent out every available agent I had the moment I could. They've been scouring the country for the past three days."
"Really?" Tsukune swelled with hope. "And, did they find anything?"
Flicking a rueful glance over to the monitor, Akuha's shoulders slumped. "…No. They haven't."
"What? Then, what are we supposed to do next?"
Again, she paused, this time uncertain how to answer. This was just what she'd been reflecting on minutes before. What could she do next? How was she to solve a problem when there was no visible enemy to target, to attack and kill? "I don't know," she mumbled, casting her eyes to the floor.
Tsukune's hand slammed against a bedpost. "That's not good enough! You can't possibly have no other plans?" Silence met him, only furthering his frustration. "Come on, Akuha! I thought you were supposed to be this great paragon of strength. I thought you'd be far more capable of tracking down Moka than I could. Was that a lie? How can we find her? Please, tell me!"
Then she, through gritted teeth, hands clenched into trembling fists: "I said, I don't know."
Tsukune looked crestfallen. "It was a lie, then, wasn't it? I thought you, if anybody, would go to the ends of the earth to find Moka. Whatever else I may think of you, I thought that at least for her…for her, you held genuine affection and maybe in your own, twisted way, actually wanted to protect her, and had the strength to do so. Guess I was wrong, huh? I guess if there's nobody for you to tear open with those hands, you can't do much of anything—"
"SHUT UP!"
Her shriek piercing the air, Akuha jerked her head up. All of a sudden, through the dark tresses that now caressed her pale face, Tsukune saw that fresh droplets had leaked forth, and now, as black strands began to cling damply to her cheeks, he felt his fury dissolve, the air rushing out of him in an instant, like a balloon popped by a needle. This deflation, however, was quickly replaced with a pointed anxiety – the last time he had been around a distraught Akuha had ensured this would be so. She said, then: "You—you dare speak to me in such a fashion…! A helpless little human like you? I don't see you coming up with any genius ideas, you know. And who do you think I am, anyway? There's no 'lie' about it. I am strong! I can protect Moka—I will! Wherever she's gone, I'll definitely find her soon. It's just—it's just…" She found herself unable to say just what it was. Whatever confidence she was trying to project, the supporting words were lost to her, and those she could find sounded hollow in the warm, dim room. The amassed fatigue brought by days of lost sleep suddenly washed over her like a heavy, torpid wave, her already weary muscles now weighing down like thick logs on her small frame and her spirit alike. The steely gaze she fixed upon Tsukune was belied by trembling shoulders and rebellious sniffles. Her voice grew disconcertingly small as she spoke, as small as she now felt before the boy, her captive: "What do you want me to say? You want me to say that you're right, that I couldn't keep Moka safe? That I'm out of ideas to find her? Powerless?"
"…are you?"
Her eyes fell, unable to meet Tsukune's for what she was about to say. "I've been unable to find her despite all my attempts. I have people scattered across the globe, and yet, even so, she's left no trace to follow. I…I am out of ideas, okay? I've…failed." The word was choked, the girl's pride, which always stood like a wall of diamond, now a cracked ruin of soft clay shattered into a million tiny bits of rubble, in front of the last person she would've ever wished to see her reduced to such a state. The shame burned deep inside her.
Tsukune stood still, brow lifted at the surprising admission, when something caught his sudden attention. Trailing to Akuha's feet, his eyes were drawn to the carpet; within the dark fibers, an even deeper shadow had appeared, and seemed to be slowly expanding. It took only a moment more for Tsukune to glimpse the droplets of blood leaking from the girl's nail-pierced palm.
"Well?" She muttered, turning slightly away from him. "Aren't you going to say anything? Or are you just getting a kick out of humiliating me like this?" The fresh wounds on her hands didn't seem to register. Nevertheless, the crimson continued to flow.
Without thought, Tsukune reached out, exclaiming: "Akuha, wait, you're bleeding."
"What?" Lifting her hand, she saw the damage done and delicately unclenched her fist, grunting "Oh," in response. Apparently, it hadn't registered.
Looking back on it later, Tsukune still could not deduce what had driven his next move. Perhaps it was the fact that the girl before him was Moka's sister; perhaps it was just his tried and true sense of chivalry; perhaps, for but a fleeting instant, he felt a swell of pity for her. Whatever it was, stepping forward abruptly, he took hold of Akuha's wrist and lifted her hand to eye level. "Let me see."
He could practically feel all of her muscles go rigid at the contact, as well as the heat rushing to her face, now hastily hidden behind black locks. "W-w-what do you think you're doing? Release me."
Tsukune gave no sign of compliance, however; what was running through his mind, then, he couldn't be sure, but as he looked at the dull stream of warm liquid, he felt a faint stirring, somewhere deep within, like a spark struck from a flint in a pitch black room, dancing to life momentarily before dying out with a feeble hiss. And in its wake, a bubbling roil in his core, surging and swelling at the sight of the close crimson river. Feeling himself in danger of sinking into the gloom, it was Akuha's muffled voice that slowly dragged him out of his stupor. "Hey! Are you listening to me? I said let go!"
Blinking, he realized he'd been clutching her hand tightly before his face for several moments, more blood leaking out as a result, the fluid as scarlet as the bright crest of the blush across her scowling face. Hurriedly, he dropped it, uttering a clumsy apology. Akuha ignored it, bringing her hand up to her mouth and, glancing at the wound for a moment, placed her lips over it to stifle the flow. Tsukune remained silent. Then, seemingly satisfied she'd halted the bleeding, Akuha muttered, bitterness clear in her voice: "Everything would've fine if you hadn't come along…"
The insult pricked him. "Excuse me? You do remember, you're the one who took me prisoner in the first place, don't you? I never wanted to be here. And as I remember it, you seemed pretty happy to…you know…with me…" He trailed off.
Shooting him a sharp glare, Akuha shook her head. "That's not what I meant." Once again, she poked a finger into his chest. He smelled alcohol on her breath as she spoke. "Things would've been fine if you hadn't come along into Moka's life. At all."
Eyes widening in disbelief, Tsukune replied: "What is that supposed to mean?"
Her voice steadily growing louder: "If it wasn't for you, Moka's head would've never been filled with all that nonsense you spout about us living together with you humans. She would've never had any hesitations about helping us reach our goal and ridding the world of your filthy race. Everything would've been perfect between us, and that business in Yomotsu would have been so much simpler. Not to mention, I wouldn't have had to leave her side to chase you down, and she wouldn't be missing now!"
Tsukune swatted her hand aside, now matching her glare. "Are you crazy? You're blaming this on me?"
"Of course, it is your fault! Moka wouldn't have been taken if it weren't for you!"
Stunned by her attack, Tsukune fumbled for words to stand his ground. "Yeah? Well, did you ever consider that maybe she wasn't taken? That she disappeared to get away from you?"
From the way her arms folded across her stomach as she took a step back, it almost looked as if the wind had been knocked out of her by a punch. "Then you should be happy, right?" she whispered, heavily. "You've been trying to take her away from me all this time, and now you finally got your wish."
"Take her away from you?" He repeated, incredulously. "I'm not trying to—what do you even mean 'take her away from you'?" Taking a step forward, he looked Akuha square in the eye, the fear of her arm through his gut overridden by a storm of indignation. As his anger grew, it almost seemed like his body did as well, with Akuha shrinking in stature beneath him. "Look, whether you like it or not, I love Moka! We're together, got it? Ever since we met that first day at school, I—I knew deep down that I needed her in my life, and wanted so badly to be part of hers. I'm sorry if that bothers you, but you're gonna have to learn to deal with it!"
As soon as the words had left his mouth, however, he realized that might have been unwise to say, especially at such close range. Sure enough, before he could even react, Akuha, her expression suddenly frosted over with a deathly chill, had crouched into position and swung her leg out with lightning speed, aiming high at Tsukune's head. He watched the foot approach, finding himself unable to defend in time.
Unfortunately for Akuha, it had slipped her mind that after mostly lying inactive in one's bed for days, a few stretches might be prudent before sudden, jerking movements. No sooner had she aimed for her target than she felt a sharp pang in her thigh. Recoiling with a gasp, she lost her balance, doubling over, and collapsed in a pile on the floor.
To Tsukune's chagrin, once the world had stopped spinning, he found himself on the bottom of this pile, Akuha's hands planted beside his shoulders. His own hands had been filled with something soft, yet firm; he realized he was holding her hips in his grasp, his hands bunched under her loose shirt, up against skin. She cursed, softly, struggling to rise. Tsukune felt her unkempt hair sweep across his face as she shifted on him, her body brushing, unintentionally, against parts that kindled a heat in his loins; even in her unclean state, he couldn't deny that she possessed an unbelievable sensuality, from the deceptively supple flesh he felt under his fingertips, to the smooth, fluid way her toned body brushed against his as she moved. But, he scolded himself, now was not the time for such thoughts. Moving to get up (he could see that no helping hand was forthcoming), he was alerted to a large damp spot on his cheek.
Akuha spoke, but her voice sounded almost broken in Tsukune's ears. "Not that it matters now, anyway. Moka's gone, and I don't know how to get her back."
Rising to a sitting position, Tsukune frowned, silently willing his heart to stop pounding in his chest. "I'm sorry, but I don't accept that." He slid his hand over his face; sure enough, the cheek was slick with wet. And he knew its source. He stood, letting out a deep breath, moved to calm by another flash of sympathy. His tone wasn't harsh: "Akuha, there has to be something we can do, right? What about those spies of yours?"
Her eyes turned toward the monitor, dejectedly. "I told you. None of those useless guys were able to find anything."
He took note of the defeat in her voice. "Then, we could try going back to Yomotsu, ask around again if anyone saw anything. Anything at all. Even if they just found a single strand of silver hair, that would be enough! If we got their cooperation, then maybe we could—"
"If we got their cooperation?" She snorted at the idea. "I can't imagine they'd be too obliging after the property damage we caused."
"You mean you caused."
A curt stare was his reward for the remark. "Never mind that, by this point, those eggs have probably grown to maturity and started doing what they were intended to do. Even if they haven't been discovered yet, it's not a smart risk to go back there."
Against his better judgment, Tsukune decided not to once more voice his protestations on this subject. Like it or not, now was not a time he could afford to be at odds with the Shuzen assassin. Moka's life could be at stake. He had to let it pass. "You can't be telling me there's no way to trace her? None at all? No one in…in Fairy Tale even, who might know a way?" He cursed himself silently for having to resort to suggesting help from that organization.
Akuha paused, keeping silent. In her crimson eyes, Tsukune sensed something like discomfort, and uncertainty. Pacing to the other side of the room, she took a bottle of red wine off a shelf and, popping the cork with unnatural ease, downed a mouthful straight from the bottle. She kept it in her grasp, but did not sip again, instead letting it dangle by her fingers, wiping her lips with the back of a hand, her body still. She stared straight ahead, brow creased in thought.
"There's something, isn't there? You look like you have an idea," Tsukune exclaimed, moving next to her. Catching a glimpse inside the bottle, he was a bit surprised to see it was nearly empty. "If you've thought of something, spill it!"
She shook her head, the tangled mass of black atop her head whipping from side to side. A look of marked displeasure pulled at her mouth. "No, forget it. It's nothing that would help us, anyway. Not when it comes to this."
"So, you're saying there is a way, right? Why wouldn't it help? Whatever it is, it's better than just sitting here doing nothing."
She hesitated for a moment, then relented, saying: "Yes, technically, there might be a way. It's a long shot, though, barely even worth mentioning, which is why I didn't even bother considering it."
"What is it?"
Turning, she eyed the boy carefully, regarding him with something like curiosity. "You know, I have a feeling you won't be crazy about it if I tell you."
"I don't care. I want to know."
Once again, Akuha didn't answer right away. Staring down the neck of the depleted wine bottle, she took a final swig and walked over to her monitor, the machine still whirring tranquilly. Adjusting the tiny microphone by its side, she pressed a headset to her ear, hit a few keys and, a few seconds later, a soft click sounded in the room. It was then she spoke. "It's me. Tell me, what's our current—no, how close are we to headquarters?" Tsukune could only hear the faint, warbled voice on the other end. Akuha replied: "Yes. Yes, I don't care. Set a course. Yes. We…might"—she stressed the word, stealing a glance at the boy—"be able to find some assistance there." She stepped away a moment later, after receiving confirmation. "Well, it's all set," she announced. "We'll arrive at the Floating Gardens in a couple of hours."
"Floating Gardens? That's the name of your base, then?"
She nodded, then, slowly making her way over to him, locked his gaze and held it firmly. "Listen to me. I still think this will turn out to be a fool's errand. Moka's not exactly popular with everyone in Fairy Tale, you see. What I'm saying is, this is your idea, and if it fails, it's your responsibility. Consider this my official warning."
"If you're so against it, why did you just make the arrangements yourself?"
"Because I—I just don't have any better ideas, at the moment," she stammered indignantly, "That's all. But I'm telling you, this isn't going to get her back!"
"How can you be so sure? You still haven't even told me what it is," he replied. As he watched her, she seemed to be undergoing the faintest of transformations right before his eyes. Just a few minutes before, she had appeared stricken with despair, visibly wallowing in misery, at a complete loss for action. This hadn't entirely changed, but a small vibrancy had leapt back into the girl's face. He wasn't sure how, but he could read in her expression a genuine, if reserved, hope. In all the time he'd spent with her, the masks of callous indifference and savage cruelty had been firmly secured upon her face. To see, now, such a different look of almost childlike anticipation at even the barest chance of finding her sister, skeptical though she was, was quite something. Almost…endearing. Something struck his mind, a reminder, and before he was conscious of it, the words were tumbling from his mouth: "Whatever it is, it'll work. It has to. Don't worry, Akuha, I'm sure we'll find them."
A cocked eyebrow greeted him. "You are proving a strange human to figure out, Tsukune Aono," she said. "Even with my failing attempts to understand how you got Moka to like you, you go ahead and toss another curveball my way. Don't you hate me? Don't you hate my organization? And yet now you're not only pushing for us to go seek their help, you actually sound like you're trying to cheer me up. Why?"
Tsukune was taken aback by the question. Standing between Akuha and the open doors, he could again see how curious she looked in the dim light. He wasn't sure how to respond, honestly. He knew he was essentially asking for Fairy Tale's, his enemy's, help. Ordinarily, he would've imagined it a sooner occurrence for the sun to turn to ice, but in a situation like this, when it came to protecting Moka, drastic measures were called for, even if it meant supplicating such a heinous group. "It's not that I'm ever gonna support what you guys are doing," he insisted. "But…for Moka's sake, I have to do anything it takes." He had no choice, after all. Moka would surely see that as well, right? And, as for her sister: "You—you feel the same way, don't you?" It was more a statement than a question. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not forgiving you for anything you've done or are trying to do, Akuha. Really, I don't even trust you. But…even if I want to deny it, you do love your sister—in a very weird way, of course, but I guess it's still love…" He paused, having forced the words out, almost as if slowly coming to terms with a new reality. "She means a lot to you, doesn't she? I mean," he gestured at her hands, "you even bled for her. I suppose…that says something." Akuha stared at him, silent. "So, for now," he finished, "I think we're on the same page, you and me."
Behind him, he heard voices springing to life back in the hall, urgent, hurried voices that gradually came closer, taking note of the collapsed bodies by their captain's chambers. Akuha, for her part, seemed to ignore them, scrutinizing the boy before her with the most indecipherable expression. Even in the low light, however, a rosy glow had crept plain as day onto her features. "I-If you say so," she said, stiffly. She seemed guarded and slightly apprehensive. A pair of puzzled ayashi appeared in the doorway then. With a quick wave, Akuha gave assurance that everything was fine and dismissed them. Moving back over to her monitor, she pulled up a screen that displayed what looked like a map of the entire country. A blinking red dot flashed just off the northeast coast, with a smaller, white dot flickering a bit to the south. "You know, of course," Akuha spoke again, "I could just dump you overboard and go try this myself."
Tsukune couldn't help but smile a little, hearing the forced assertiveness in her voice; he had spent enough time around her by now to have a fairly good idea of when she was attempting to reassert control. He wasn't falling for it. "Then go ahead and do it," he challenged. "But of course, you know, without me, you would still be lying around in bed, no clue how to even begin looking for your sisters."
Akuha opened her mouth, looking as if she meant to fling him a sharp retort, but then decided against it, only grunting out "Shut up," before expelling Tsukune from her quarters, deciding she wished to be alone until they arrived at headquarters. As she ushered him out the door, she leveled her gaze at him and, peering past thin brows, said: "Be ready for me to call you."
With that, she shut the doors, and Tsukune was alone in the hall once more. He looked down; the unconscious guards were still there. He wondered what to do with them, finally deciding to sit by the wall and wait for Hayate to return. Feeling like the heavy burden that had weighed on him the past few days had been lifted a tiny fraction, he chuckled inwardly. I hope he's not too annoyed I didn't wait for him.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Deep within the darkness, a rat stirred. Scurrying along the narrow, precipitous path, its ears twitched at the heavy clipping sound approaching; footsteps, echoing throughout the endlessly vast chamber. The rat fled as the owner of the footsteps made their way over the threshold, darting back into an adjacent corridor and into its tiny hole in the wall.
The person entering the chamber now paid the diminutive intruder zero mind, making her way through the gloom pierced only by candles struggling to hold back the flood of shadow. She walked down the narrow pathway, the thickness of the stifling air bringing her no discomfort. Eventually, she reached its end. There she stood, upon a small, circular platform jutting out into the center of the cavern. There was silence, complete silence, the kind a child hears when they wait with baited breath, trying to discern what made that sound in the night.
The silence did not bother her. Moving to the very edge of the platform, she leaned forward, peering into the black abyss that awaited any who might be so unfortunate as to fall from this spot. Her breathing, however, was calm. Things such as these did not trouble her. Looking down, her eyes were able to break through the darkness, able to make out the very bottom of the pit, and what resided there. She felt a faint prickling coursing along the back of her neck, barely noticeable, but there. It lasted but a moment, like a heartbeat. At last turning her gaze aside, she held up an arm under her nose, as if inspecting it, then, seemingly satisfied, put it back down.
Her words ghosted past delicate lips: "It won't be much longer now, my dear. Everything is moving into place, and in the end, what's yours shall be mine."
A minute later, she was gone, and the emptiness was silent once again.
To be continued…