I do not have any ownership of Blood Plus, or the characters. I do however own my own words so may everything good in this world help you… if you use them without my permission. :p
• thank you to Raven the Dark Angel
Part two
Hajis smile is small when he picks her off the ground, neatly as bending to gasp a fallen fruit. Her hand is in his when he takes her to a car and they drive.
While they drive he doesn't speak, but takes her to an apartment, she assumes is his. It is simple and clean not what you would call lived in. The view is expansive, and travels the nearly the length of the city. In the corner of the largest window he has placed a single chair. There are papers in stacks and scattered around the floor by the chair and still more propped on the windows ledge.
It is sparse but she finds that she feels calm here. The bathroom is also very bare. Clean and starkly white, with large soft towels piled on a bench next to the tub. She showers a long time, reveling in the feeling of the rough cloth moving the soap across her skin. She scrubs at her hair next, until the action of it causes her arms ache.
She is dressed in one of his button down shirts, which is waiting for her on the doors hook. It slips smoothly over her damp hair and reaches almost to her knees.
Her bare feet make no sound as she crosses the length of the room that is now swimming with the aroma of hot food. He has gone to get food; she feels a twinge of sadness realizing he had left without her knowing.
Haji has spread cartons of the steaming food, across a rug that lies in front of a new fire. She feels a heat rush across her chest at the sight of his leonine body folded up, facing her. Waiting for her. He is sitting in the corners lone chair, angled still the same so that he has to turn his head fractionally to look fully upon her. Absently she wonders why he doesn't move the chair to avoid this…
While she eats and while she finishes, he plays for her achingly sweet music. The sparseness of the furniture and gleaming wood floors create the perfect acoustics. She is surrounded by the music and it soaks into her skin, like she has starved for it. His eyes are soft and remain open and focused on her. The perfect ordinariness of his left hand contrasted sharply to the beauty of the music. While the music continues she reaches towards the cellos case, and pulls her sword free.
Saya fingers are dancing across the sheath. Fingertips travel the twisting leather and then the point above the swords channel where she would pierce her finger. Haji is watching her, silent and still.
The smallest of smiles pushing up the corner of his mouth.
It is hours later. She has fallen asleep on the soft rug, he has covered her in a blanket and sitting up she gathers the folds of warmth around her shoulders. Haji is no longer in the room and turning her head she recognizes him, standing on the small balcony off the kitchen. She can see his mouth moving and notes the small silver phone in his hand.
It is close to being tomorrow. Butterflies beat her from the inside at the thought.
She rises and moves to the chair he is now absent from. It was so close to dawn that the night sky was tinged with the barest hues of topaz. And all the city lights are sparking with fading brilliance. Propping her feet against the window she rests her chin on her knees. Her heart skips a beat.
In perfect alignment to the large window, the lone chair and Sayas eyes… was a perfect view of her resting place for the last 30 years.