Lady Luck's Love
Chapter two
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The fresh smell of wet earth lingered along the misty streets as rain continued to pour down. Thunder rumbled overhead as a gleeful red-head rushed down the street, skirts hiked up to her knees, laughing each time her feet landed in a wayward puddle. She stopped at one particular weathered door, a modest shop, and pushed it open without bothering to knock.
The bell hanging above the door chimed daintily, causing a bright-eyed girl to look up at the intruder with alarm. Once she recognized the other girl, a slow smile spread over her face. Setting a bolt of blue fabric down onto the table carefully, she rose from her chair.
"You're soaked!" She cried out in surprise, taking in her friend's stringy hair and water-rumpled clothing. "Yukari, what were you thinking?"
Yukari wiped the bits of hair clinging to the sides of her face away and took a moment to collect herself. "Good-morning to you too." She walked further into the tiny shop, leaving slippery footprints behind her.
"Aren't you cold? Here, I'll go grab you a towel." Shaking her head in dismay, she slipped into the backroom.
After rolling her eyes, Yukari hovered around the table, sighing at the sight of thread, needles, and cloth strewn over it. Her lips pursed slightly in thought. She barely heard her friend come back into the room.
"Miss Kanzaki!" She chastised shrilly, mouth opening wide as she added a small gasp for good measure. "You're working on a feast day?"
"I am not!" The other girl fumed, throwing the towel at Yukari's head. "The shop isn't even open."
"But the door was open."
"You know it's always open when I'm in here."
"But why are you here if the shop isn't open and you're not working?" Yukari reasoned logically.
Silence.
"Hitomi, I'm so ashamed of you. What a horrible liar you've turned out to be." Toweling her hair lightly, she rolled her brown eyes at her. "You were working."
A sigh escaped Hitomi's mouth. "Well, those dresses aren't going to make themselves!"
Yukari didn't look impressed with her reply. Folding the towel neatly, she tossed it over her shoulder, crossed her arms, and glared at her. "Pathetic."
"It's not like I'm doing anything else today." Hitomi mouthed gloomily. "Father and Mother went out--"
"As you should be." Yukari pointed out, wiggling a finger at her. "Look, I'm going down to the Colosseum today for the opening match. I'm taking you with me." Flinging the towel onto Hitomi's work table carelessly, she stalked off towards the door.
"But- Yukari!" Hitomi squealed, shyly falling behind her. "It's raining out and--"
"Yea. Just like you said it would." Yukari mused aloud. "We can use those umbrellas you made last spring. It's not that bad outside."
Hitomi still looked wary of the idea. She chewed on her bottom lip indecisively, wringing her hands around the beige apron around her waist. "I don't know..."
"Please? After it's over we can come back and...I'll even help you with your work!" Yukari grinned at her.
Eyebrow raised, Hitomi snorted out a laugh. "Okay." She had given in easily, without too much thought of the consequences. Yukari had never been very good at sewing.
"Good. I'm glad that's settled." The red-head smirked, handing a sky-blue umbrella that had been concealed behind her back. Hitomi groaned in annoyance, rubbing a hand down one side of her face. She took the umbrella hesitantly.
"I really had no choice in this, did I?" She asked bluntly, inspecting the umbrella she was given. It had taken her weeks to construct the thing and coat it with a harsh wax coating. She winced inwardly at all the blotches she saw.
Beckoning her with a chin tilted towards the door, Yukari grinned broadly. "Hitomi, I know you want to do your best, helping your parents with the shop and all, but..." Her face sobered. "You'll just end up working yourself too thin if you keep this up, you know? And I'm...worried." Carefully unfurling her own umbrella, she gave her a half-smile, shy and gentle.
Yukari opened the door, and Hitomi found she could do nothing but stare and clutch to the umbrella in her hands tightly. She seemed to be staring into another world, her troubles reflecting wetly through each fat droplet of rain gliding down from above. She desperately wanted them to stop falling.
"I--" Words caught in her throat.
"Just enjoy yourself. Promise me, 'kay? Worry about everything else later." Yukari's eyes twinkled with new found mirth.
Hitomi blinked at her, and then smiled. With a confident nod of her head, she followed after her. The rain seemed so trivial now. Trust Yukari to be right once in awhile.
They marched down the road with such zeal that any onlookers would have sworn that the sun was shining brightly overhead, and that the umbrellas they carried were only there to keep the sun away from their fair faces.
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The smell of hay, rain, dirt, and sweat was making him sick. He wiped his runny nose with the back of his gloved hand, wheezing out a cough. His shirt clung to him like a damp cloth, and his thick hair was obstructing his vision. The night had not been kind to him. Coughing, he looked around himself.
He was in the labyrinth of passageways and rooms under the Colosseum, along with about a dozen or so other fighters and their Melefs. The smooth stone walls encasing the room reminded him of a tomb.
It had been worse enough that the only shelter he could find to harbor both him and his Melef was an old abandoned barn. There was a reason it had been abandoned. He discovered that quickly enough, after it had rained down in buckets.
The barn had a leaky roof.
Moisture attacked everything. The walls, floor, and what little possessions he had, including his clothing. Everything was drenched with water. There was no escaping the misery.
In short, he was cold, sore, and hungry. The water managed to spoil his food supply. After his match, he planned on taking a trip to the market to replace some of what he'd lost with the humble amount of coin he brought with him.
He hadn't factored in the possibility of his food spoiling, and foolishly brought only enough money with him to buy food for last few weeks of the tournament. Perhaps he should have spent his money on a night at the tavern instead. He wouldn't be in the predicament he was in now, if that had been the case.
His eyes welled up with irritation, and he felt the inside of his nose itch. A sneeze echoed through the room, attracting several pairs of eyes. "Bless you." Someone mumbled.
Cheers and shouts roared above their heads in a great rhythmic anthem. It made him anxious enough to make his head swim. The longer he sat waiting the lighter his head became.
The cheering waned, becoming into a low throaty chant. A chant for more.
A large gate opened wide with a gritty clank of metallic gears. Through it marched a short man wearing knee-length socks, buckled shoes, a fancy dress shirt with corresponding tight leotards and a short cape furling proudly behind him, as was the fashion of the King's court. In his hands were a feather quill and a long scroll of parchment. Men quietly talked to one another as he approached.
"Good Sirs, your attention please." He said sharply, eyes wandering around the room. "If you would, assemble yourselves into a civilized line. Come now, we don't have much time." Huffing as he scratched his quill against the parchment, he began calling out names, going down the list with a bored expression. The men lined themselves in front of him guardedly, glancing at each other, roguish sneers slapped across their greasy faces.
"Captain Maudry of the second division, Wren of the colonial tribe of Basram, Dacian of Yamura groove, Sir Vahe Lajos, Quin of..." He droned on, speech formal and poised. Each contestant raised their arm in acknowledgement as their name was called, causing the man's hand to scribble across his parchment feverishly.
Through the throng of names, he heard his clearly. Van of Adon. He wouldn't dare give them his true title, not that his title held any worth now.
He raised his water-worn glove half-heatedly, face pinched. Soon, the man would announce which matches would take place, and in what order. He wouldn't have to wait much longer.
Closing his eyes, he let his thoughts wander to Adon, warm and bright, full of promise and comfort. He saw Mere's faith in him reflected through her eyes, and subconsciously felt Rhum's arm clasp his shoulder the way he always did. Breathing a sigh, he felt slightly better. He had expectations to live up to.
He planned on living up to them too.
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"What do you mean 'all betting is closed'?! This is ridiculous!" A petered Yukari almost shrieked, hands strangling her umbrella.
"Sorry lady. Match has already started, ya see?" The lanky man shrugged, nimble fingers running across his collection box protectively. He flipped his bangs away from his face by tilting his head to one side.
The red-head continued to fume. This wasn't good.
"Yukari! It's not worth it. Come on." Hitomi hissed out of the corner of her mouth, pulling her friend aside by the sleeve. She felt thoroughly embarrassed by Yukari's outburst, a blush creeping up her face. If it raised a comment, she planned on blaming it on the heat of the matches.
"But I always bet on the first match, Hitomi. Always."
She patted her shoulder sympathetically. "Just bet on the next one."
Yukari sulked, groaning in self-pity. "But it's not the same." She brushed Hitomi's hand away, slyly smirking. "Fine. But only if you bet too." She smiled her sweetest smile.
They pushed through the stand, Htiomi disgusted with the closeness of the people crammed together. Yukari's face lit up. "I never bet on the matches, you know that Yukari. I hardly ever go to them anyways."
A great broadsword swept by their vision, almost grazing the side of the Colosseum. The noise startled Hitoimi, her eyes widening in fear. Yukari hollered and cheered along with the crowd, surely enjoying herself.
The adrenaline pumping through Hitomi's veins made her ears pound and her heart race. She never did get used to the sight of those metal giants towering over her. Another gut-wrenching swing threatened to empty her lungs.
Burgundy flashed before her blinking eyes, lunging for its opponent. A grey Melef. He parried the assailant's onslaught, reaching his arm out to carve a great arc across his opponent's chest. The burgundy Melef stumbled back from the blow, almost loosing his balance as he clumsily tried regaining his footing.
"What, Hitoimi? I didn't catch that." Yukari couldn't rip her gaze away from the match, enthralled by it.
"Huh?" Hitomi found she was unable to utter anything intelligible.
"I sa--"
The crowd roared and cheered as the grey Melef stalked forward, water rolling off him in great trickles, delivering the final blow. Instantly, the burgundy Melef fell to his knees, glaring up at the victor defiantly, a sword-tip pressed against his chin.
Yukari jumped into the air, pumping her fist up in excitement. "Oh Hitomi, did you-- did you see that?! Amazing! If all the matches are like this one, we're in for a good year!...Hitomi?"
Her green eyes trembled, focused on the Melefs set in that dramatic pose. This dance was finished, but a new one would soon begin. "What? I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that." Her palms ached from clutching to the umbrella tightly, but she kept her fingers clenched. If she loosened them, she feared she might loose it in the crowd's energy.
Grinning lopsidedly at her friend, Yukari said nothing as they pushed forward in anticipation of the next match.
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Hitomi didn't mention to her friend she had yet to bet on any of the matches. Maybe if she didn't remind her, she would forget. They had watched several already, all fierce but short. Pity none of them lasted long enough for Hitomi to take a side. As her friend bobbed beside her, chanting her praises for the latest victor, Hitomi felt anonymous against the mass of people occupying the stadium. It was strange for her to lose her sense of identity here of all places. What was it about this place that made her feel so detached?
She glanced up at the clouds lurking above everything and breathed a sigh. The rain hadn't let up yet, and somehow she knew it wouldn't for the next few days.
"He looks like he doesn't stand much of a chance." Yukari stated flatly, pointing her attention to the center of the ring. "What do you think?"
Hitomi surveyed the two Melefs staring each other down. One was a stout faded green, and the other a pale beige. The first was nothing special, plain with a rounded chest plate, sturdy limbs, and a spiky helm, but the second she had to take a second glance at. It was beautiful. Even with rain beading off him, and the shadow cast overhead, he remained bright. Glittering gems adorned his shoulders, and the angles of his face were bold and demanding. Someone had taken a great deal of care in constructing it.
"I think they stand an equal chance." Hitomi replied coolly.
Yukari gave her a nudge, laughing. "You're joking, right? Take a closer look at the weapon the green one has. I seriously doubt his opponent will last long."
Hitomi looked at the weapon and winced. He held onto a long heavy chain snaking its way down to the ground in a mass of coils. Attached to it was a metal orb, smooth and polished. Her eyes darted back to the beige Melef and the long thick blade it held at its side. She frowned. It was almost too ornate to use in combat, gold and red dashes touching its hilt.
A low buzzing spun through her ears, searing through her temples. She grasped both sides of her head in alarm. Her eyelids snapped closed in an attempt to banish the pain. She was about to cry out, but the sensation abruptly ceased. White light filled her vision in its place; it was gentle and serene, but also held darker elements.
Hesitation. Sorrow. Loneliness.
What? She thought numbly, confusion engulfing her. It all seemed so obscure.
A streak of red flowed across the white boldly, a hilt of a sword swinging out.
Confidence. Determination. Pride.
Chains clinked in the background, grinding metabolically. Hitomi bit her bottom lip. She braced herself worried that the blade would soon fall.
A resounding clank lingered as the sword was ensnared by the chains, twisting themselves grotesquely around tightly. They began dragging their captive down, smug with premature victory. Hitomi had almost given up hope until a link snapped, chains falling into nothingness.
Release.
Now she understood. The clear image of the sword soon became a faded silhouette as she round her consciousness slowly floating back to reality.
"Hitomi? Are you okay? You blanked out on me." Yukari's worried face starred into her dazed eyes, a large shadow casting itself over them both.
"Y-yes. I'm just...a bit cold. That's all." She managed a weak smile.
Her friend nodded, but didn't look entirely convinced. "If you say so. Here, you dropped this." She handed her back the umbrella she had dropped, which Hitomi accepted gratefully.
"...Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
A familiar holler echoed through the air. "Last call for bets. All bets final. Calling for all bets."
Yukari jumped at the opportunity. Hitomi had to run to keep up with her. "I'd like to place my bet on--"
"-- the small Ispano Melef. Please." Hitomi caught Yukari's honey brown eyes with her green ones.
"Hitomi!--"
"Might I remind you odds are not in his favor, Miss?" The lanky man raised an eyebrow at the pair.
"Yes, I am aware of that." Hitomi nodded diligently. She smiled slightly.
Yukari stared incredulously at her friend. "You never bet on the matches. What's so special about this one?"
"I...I have this feeling." She lowered her eyes for a moment, taking a breath. "Please, Yukari. I'll pay you back if I'm wrong, and if I'm not...you have nothing to lose. Right?" She pleaded, desperation dripping from her voice.
"Alright." Yukari replied, hesitating only a moment. She placed two copper coins into the man's gloved hands. "But don't worry about paying me back. Your 'feelings' are usually never wrong. I'm giving you my full confidence." She winked.
Hitomi smiled brightly, cheeks flushed. The man handed Yukari a betting stub. "Enjoy the match, you two." He snickered before wandering off.
The minutes that followed flew by like a reoccurring dream, familiar and predictable. Hitomi relaxed as the Melefs exchanged blows, one flowing into a string of many. The smaller Melef held his ground against his larger foe, seemingly unaffected by the menacing ball and chain wrapping itself around the sword he wielded. Yukari was unable to sit still, pushing herself onto her tippy toes to relieve a part of her anxiousness.
"You're sure he'll win? You're positive?"
Hitomi merely nodded. "You'll see." She rotated the umbrella's handle absently, raindrops flicking off it carelessly.
The Ispano Melef took one lumbering step forward, found his footing, grasped his blade with two hands, and jerked his weapon suddenly to one side. His opponent's ball and chain flew off the blade, crashing unceremoniously onto the wet sand.
The crowd screamed for more.
Rendered defenseless, the stout Melef backed up, shell-shocked and vulnerable. He found himself against the Colosseum wall with his opponent quickly advancing. Metal joints popped open as the smaller Melef pulled his sword clean through the shoulder and arm of his unfortunate victim.
It was over. He had won.
Yukari shrieked with joy. "You're absolutely amazing! I'm taking you to every match from now on." She hugged her friend briefly before dashing off to collect her winnings. The surprise on the man's face was satisfying to see as he dropped several silver coins into her outstretched hand.
"Hitomi, we're going out for lunch. I'm buying." Yukari proudly exclaimed, counting the money in her palm. Hitomi laughed. It didn't take much to make her happy.
As they left, she took one last glance at the small Melef, face sobering. What was his master feeling now, standing there? A part of her wanted to know.
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Water clung to the bottom of her dress, cold against her calves each time she took another step forward. Her smile was light, but her heart was heavy. She wondered if she should go home. It was nearing supper. Her mother would want her back at the house. She breathed a wispy sigh, tilting her umbrella back slightly. She wasn't hungry, not after eating lunch with Yukari at the inn. Her friend went home shortly after that, which had surprised her. So much for her offer to help her with her work. She smiled. Perhaps she still had errands to take care of. That sounded plausible, knowing her friend. She loved putting things of until they absolutely had to be done.
Why was she still out wandering anyways? There was work to be done. She frowned slightly, remembering Yukari's words earlier that day. It couldn't hurt putting work off until tomorrow. At least, just for today.
The marketplace was bustling despite the rain. Hitomi weaved through the crowd, stopping periodically to browse the stands. There was a bracelet that had caught her eye, but it was much too expensive for her budget. Eventually, she grew bored, taking a side street down to her side of town. Her shoes tapped briskly against the rough cobblestone.
As she neared her street she spotted a drenched figure ahead of her, carrying a coarse canvas bag. She slowed her pace instinctively. Yukari had always said she was too skittish for her own good.
The youth's black hair lay in thick black strands about his head, the colour of fresh black ink. His clothes were soaked through with rainwater. It made her feel guilty. She had a broad umbrella to keep the elements at bay.
He looked back at her, expression flat. Hitomi froze in her tracks, unsure if she should say anything. Her hands pounded, clasped around her umbrella as her heartbeat quickened. She took a short breath, knowing she was about to make a fool of herself.
"Good evening." She called out, jogging to catch up with him. Confusion spread over the boy's face. She held her umbrella graciously over both of them. "You looked like you could use a break from the rain."
The boy only stared in response, unblinking. Hitomi's shy smile quickly fell flat. "I'm sorry. Perhaps I was being too presumptuous in addressing you. I--"
"Do you always address strangers you meet this late at night?" The boy monotoned.
"No, I don't make a habit of it..." Hitomi trailed off. She couldn't help but notice his expressive eyes, the colour of cherry wood. "As I was saying, I thought you could--"
"I don't need a woman worrying about me." He quipped tiredly, ignoring her hurt frown.
Hitomi clenched her jaw shut, internally fuming. She didn't comment as he quickened his pace, leaving the shelter of her umbrella.
He took long strides, shoulders set straight, but Hitomi noticed his knees. They were shaking with each step he took. She slowed her own pace, mossy eyes softening. The canvas bag he held dropped down several inches in his grasp, but he refused to drop it, knuckles white with strain.
Confidence. Determination. Pride.
A sense of deja-vu overwhelmed her. The fine hairs on her arms stood on end, and she was sure it wasn't from the cold. There was something strange about the boy, something she couldn't put her finger on.
The boy followed the road down to its end, and turned off at the path cutting through an open field. Hitomi knew that path lead to only two places. The graveyard and the old abandoned barn. Beyond that was the rocky sea wall, separating the surf from land.
What business did he have out there? Her eyes followed his footsteps intently.
The black-haired youth stumbled over a patch of uneven ground, not bothering to slow down, or pay more attention to his footing. Hitomi saw his canvas bag tumble to the ground before he followed after it.
She cried out in alarm, her legs moving faster than she could keep up with. It was a wonder she managed to reach him without tripping herself. He was breathing calmly, face stony. His head was bowed slightly, staring down at his hand holding him up. Water dripped down his face, running off the tip of his nose fluidly. He didn't appear to be hurt, only shaken a little.
Hitomi crouched beside his kneeling form, placing a hand on his back gingerly. "Are you okay?" She whispered hurriedly, eyes blinking frantically.
"I'm fine." He retorted through clenched teeth. "I told you, I don't need a woman worrying about me." He coughed dryly.
She wasn't impressed. Ignoring his protests, she placed a hand to his forehead, brushing back his unruly bangs. He was strangely warm for someone out in this cold weather. "Well, someone has to worry about you." She reasoned. "Who else will?"
He grabbed her wrist, pushing her hand away dejectedly. "I take care of myself, girl. Mind your own business."
He mouth thinned into a narrow line. He was no older than she was! How dare he address her like that?
A smack resounded through the following silence; two shocked faces stared at each other in awe.
"I'm--" Hitomi brought her hand to her mouth, unable to believe she had struck his cheek so abruptly. "I mean..." She was far from sorry, though she did feel a twinge of guilt. "Bite your tongue! I was only expressing my concern. You have no right to insult my intentions. No right." Her voice was firm, cutting through the embarrassment she felt. He had it coming.
The youth touched his cheek gingerly, finger running down the scarlet mark marring it. He sat quietly, waiting for her to go off onto a long rant concerning his remarks. The women he knew from Adon would.
But she did not. She merely sat down beside him on the muddy path, unconcerned with her skirts becoming dirty. He kept his eyes forward, his hand brushing over the gritty pebbles scattered over the ground. She breathed a soft sigh, and glanced at him curiously.
"Stubborn." He thought he heard her mutter under her breath.
He didn't know what to say to the strange girl. 'Go away and leave me alone' didn't sound like it would work on her. Perhaps if he simply said nothing at all, she would grow tired of him, and leave.
A friendly hand was offered to him, along with a smile. "Come on, I'll help you up." She had his fallen sack in hand, causing him to frown.
Her hand was cold, he noted, as he rose from the ground. He nodded his thanks, accepting his sack in silence.
"Are you going to the graveyard?" She asked him quietly, avoiding his face.
"No." He replied, tone soft.
"Oh..." Relief washed over her face, only to be replaced by intrigue. "Then your destination is..." She didn't need to say it aloud.
He nodded hesitantly. "What of it?"
"It's nothing..." Her cheeks flushed. "I was just...wondering. It must be drafty in this weather..."
He stifled a bitter laugh. Drafty only begun to describe it.
"You're not from around here, are you?" Her eyes dripped with empathy, deep pools of dewy jade. She nodded bashfully, mostly to herself than to him. "Of course you're not..."
That was a silly question. Just by looking at him, anyone could see that. His hair was black, and his eyes were dark. Most Austurians had pale hair paired with pale eyes.
"Hm." Taking a step forward, he attempted to distance himself from her. "I'm humbled by your concern but I--"
Hitomi drew him back, hand firmly grasping his murky red shirt. "Where do you think you're going? You can barely stand!" He glared at her, face melting into desperation. Was peace so much to ask for?
"A-and not to mention the rain, and t-the cold." Realizing she was stuttering like a fool, she released him as if he had burnt her. Shame slowly began filling her. What was wrong with her?
She averted his face, umbrella fumbling. "I-I'm sorry. Here." Thrusting the broad blue umbrella at him, she carefully looked at him, noting the uncertainty written on his face. "Take it. You need it more than I do."
She felt almost grateful when he reached out and accepted her offer. His gritty calloused hands brushed by her fingers, feverish and slick with rainwater.
"Well, it's late and I--" Drawing in a sharp breath, her eyes trailed off, seeking out an excuse. "Good-bye." She blurted out abruptly, hands tightly clasped in front of her.
The boy smiled thinly as he watched her scramble up the path, and dash back onto the cobblestone road. What a strange girl. With the umbrella in hand, handle still warm from her fingers, he continued trudging down the dreary path. He hoped the rain would soon let up.
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To be continued...