I wake up the following morning with a brand-new sense of resolve burning within my chest, right beside the flame of humiliation that has lingered there ever since my initiation into this Guild. My evening exercises following the shower escapade didn't have noticeably different results than usual, but I could feel something different inside; a brand-new determination fueling every motion, every thrust of the knife and every step. Axel noticed it too, I could tell, and the fact that he almost smiled makes my heart sing with fierce pride every time I remember it.
I roll out of bed in one motion, trying to emulate the catlike way that Umi moves, somehow so naturally. Of course, I flub it up, landing right on my rear end, but my determination somehow remains unscathed, and I bounce right back to my feet again, moving with a lightness of step that I didn't know I possessed.
Today is the day. I'm going to find out whatever I need to know about this underground operation in order to stop it. I'm going to prove to Axel that I can be a good Assassin, and I'm worthy of my place here. I'm going to do it!
"Liseth, what are you doing?"
Immediately, I look up, blushing as I realize that Umi's eyes have been on me the entire time. She is looking at me with a slightly bemused expression, her blonde hair still a little tousled from sleep.
"Ah… sleepwalking?" I say sheepishly, phrasing it more like a question than a reply. I must have looked totally ridiculous.
"Okay, sure," she says, rolling her eyes at me in a long-suffering manner, as if I were a mischievous child getting underfoot. "Now what were you really doing?"
"Daydreaming," I sigh, untangling my blankets from beneath my feet and tossing them back up onto the bed. They land sprawled over the mattress; I give them a halfhearted tug, but they mostly stay where they fell.
"About Axel?" she asks teasingly, standing up with a luxurious yawn which far more accurately evokes the feline than did my awkward out-of-bed roll.
"Will you stop with that?" I moan, tossing a pillow at her offhand. She easily dodges it, sticking her tongue out at me as she does so.
"Stop with what?" she asks innocently, sliding over to the wardrobe and rummaging around her side for a fresh set of clothes, which she begins pulling on as I make my own way over to the wardrobe.
"You know what," I accuse, grabbing leggings, a tunic, a belt, and my boots and hauling the load back to my bed to dress. "All this teasing me about Axel. I don't have even the remotest romantic feeling for him. He's like this… impersonal granite god, or something. He doesn't even like me."
"You just called him a god, in case you don't realize the depth of your unrequited love," she sings, yanking her shirt over her head.
"Because he's a better Assassin than me, not because I think he's attractive!" I yank my own shirt on with ferocious intensity, nearly ripping the black fabric in the process. It clings semi-tightly to my body, and I look down to inspect my own figure as the clothes settle into their comfortable places. I've always been short and skinny, as my sister so often reminded me back in House Aotora; now, though, I'm beginning to develop musculature through my abdomen, arms, and legs, although my chest remains as small as ever, my hips woefully un-feminine. I look, in short, very similar to a teenage boy.
"But you just admitted that you think he's attractive." Umi continues to poke at me as she laces up her boot straps, grinning the entire time like the whole thing is one colossal joke.
"Stop twisting my words!" I growl, reddening when I realize that her teasing is what prompted my inspection of my body, and then flushing further when I realize that my figure bothers me and I don't really know why I care.
"I'm only a mirror reflecting your inner passions," she declaims melodramatically, pointing one finger at me.
"All right, that's it." Leaving one boot half-tied, I stalk across the room and jump onto her bed, wrestling her down into a quasi-headlock, although I'm not quite strong enough to manage a real one. She's laughing uncontrollably, and I get the feeling that she's letting me hold her, which is almost more infuriating than the teasing.
"Take it back," I command, flicking her on the jaw with enough force to irritate, but not to really hurt.
"Never!" she gasps, breathless from laughing.
"Then suffer!" I proclaim, releasing her neck and proceeding to tickle her mercilessly in the ribs, which prompts squeals of helpless laughter, and then I'm laughing too, and suddenly we're both in a heap on the bed, giggling like middle-school girls talking about a passing crush.
I'm suddenly struck with how grateful I am to have Umi as a friend in this distant, cold place full of stone-hearted, impassive people. Out of all of them, she's the one who most reminds me of my House days, when I could just be myself without worrying about making a mistake. But, of course, I could never say that to her; it would be against Guild protocol.
I can keep it in my mind, though. And I can treat her like a sister, although no one can replace Zanna.
Slowly, our laughter calms down into sighs, and then to normal breathing, and we're back to routine again. Umi is the first to stand, rolling up onto the balls of her feet, and I follow after her, imitating the movement and hiding a grin when I manage not to trip, although my roll is not graceful and fails to be accentuated by my diminutive height.
"Shall we proceed to training?" she asks, raising one eyebrow in a mock-formal expression.
I stifle a giggle, composing my expression into a mask of indifference, or what I hope is indifference. "We shall."
We exit our room and let the door slide shut behind us.
After we leave our room, I let Umi stride on ahead of me, intentionally falling behind in a slow, casual walk. My eyes flick from side to side, and I allow my periphery to scan for anyone walking up behind me.
Initiates like Umi and me would be the least likely to know about this secret project; I'll likely be the most successful with Assassins of the higher years; the Guides and Masters, who are the most skilled in the secret arts. So, that's who I'm looking for; or, rather, looking out for.
I make it all the way down the hall and into the lift without encountering a single soul, though; with a sigh, I step in and mash the button, ordering the magical contraption to take me to the Training Level, which is Four in our sequence of floors. It complies almost immediately, a single shudder accompanying its transition from stillness into motion.
I tap my foot on the smooth surface below me as I wait for the lift to stop and the doors to slide open and allow me exit into the network of small rooms where I spend the better part of my days as a member of this Guild. I haven't seen the sun in what feels like forever; the only reason that I even know the date is that the Assassins maintain an elaborate timekeeping device in the dining area that records date and time simultaneously.
I think about what Axel will say to me when I come in, if he says anything at all. Riku reportedly told Umi that Axel is a bit of a loudmouth and a hothead, but whenever we're training, the only thing about him even reminiscent of warmth is the color of his fiery hair. He smells vaguely of smoke and burning ozone whenever he steps close to me, and the smell is foreign and intimidating, like a hidden power residing within his skin and bones. He scares me, just a little, but he's also a little mysterious.
I'm so caught up in my own thoughts that it takes me a long moment to notice that I've been moving for much longer than it usually takes to get from Residential to Training; in addition to that, the already-dim conditions of the lift have slowly darkened as I've been moving, the air around me growing steadily cooler, as if I'm deep underground.
Slightly wary now, I move closer to the wall of the lift, placing one hand against it to steady myself. As far as I know, the lift has never malfunctioned, but that's what it seems to be doing.
Just my luck that it would malfunction while I'm on it. Maybe someone set this up to get rid of me; trap me in this little box and starve me to death, or else carry me down into the center of the world until the pressure crushes me to death.
I'm not sure if the lift can actually exceed the boundaries of the Guild Complex, but my breathing quickens just a little, my pulse racing beneath my skin as I imagine tons of pressure bearing down on me from outside, crushing me into a bloody pulp of skin and bone powder. The image is so disturbing that I gag a little and shove it quickly away.
Suddenly, the lift shudders to a stop, the cessation of motion so immediate that I stumble a little, reflexively tightening my hand against the wall in an effort to grab on. I manage to keep my balance, though, somehow, and move slowly away from the wall, peering around in the near-darkness. The doors don't appear to have opened yet, and I wonder if they will.
At almost the exact moment that I have the thought, the doors slide open with the usual soft whoosh, revealing a long corridor outside that I have never seen before.
I don't know what prompts my reflex, but before the doors are open, I am crouched in a predatory stance, shadow magic engaged in erecting a primitive shield of darkness around my figure. If someone touches me or shines too much light in here, the shield will be useless, but in the corner, in almost total darkness, no one should know that I'm here, unless they can sense the magic.
A figure waits in the corridor outside; I can't discern any visible features, but the shape of the body seems vaguely feminine. 'She' is clothed in strange robes very different from the Assassin training uniform, and her arms hang loosely at her sides in a relaxed posture. Upon catching sight of the interior of the lift, though, her stance shifts into something more irritated or defensive, and my heart skips a beat. Did she see me?
"This is the third day in a row that the lift has been empty," the figure mutters, and now I can definitely tell that it's a woman.
"If she doesn't deliver the information soon, I'm leaving, no matter what Vanitas says," the woman continues, crossing her arms and huffing. "This is getting ridiculous, and putting me in danger besides. Three more days, and that's it, with or without information." She gives a small shudder. "I hate this place, anyway. It's so cold all the time, and dark… what good is dark without the stars?"
One of her hands slides out and presses something on the wall outside of the lift; a second later, the doors are sliding closed once more, and the lift is moving upwards and away from danger.
I don't even realize that I was holding my breath until it comes rushing out in a huge sigh of relief, and I crumple to the floor, arms and legs shaking.
That was almost too close. I can't believe that shield worked. Normally, any Assassin worth her salt would have been able to sense that magic.
Maybe the lower floors dampen that kind of power, though. With the restrictions on them, who knows what sorts of spells and traps could inhabit those floors?
Then, an entirely new thought occurs to me, and one that sends a chill through my bones and up and down my spine.
Maybe she wasn't an Assassin at all. Maybe she was an outsider. Which means that whatever this plan is, it's involving more than just this Guild. I've got a potential coup d'état on my hands.
But I've also got a name now: Vanitas. And a time frame, as well. I've only got three days, and then the outsider will be gone for good, by her own words. As the lift continues to carry me upward, my mind is already evolving a plan of action.
I'll figure this out yet.
