Dante was just about to make fun of Kila for not laughing at his joke, maybe hit her on the arm and call her a whimp, but Mr. Sayco started talking again, and he looked up at the man who now controlled their lives. âI will no longer spend any more time on this matter, I have answered the question of why you are here, the way you feel about me I cannot control. I will not justify myself anymore today. For those of you who have made up your minds and are going to be staying, Sayco Manor is your home, the room you awoke in is yours. The grounds of Sayco manor are completely safe, you may use your gift without consequence. But, I cannot protect you off of the grounds. I will be in my office, please make yourself at home, you are no longer a stranger."
He then turned and left. Dante looked over at Kila, a look of seriousness on his face now, all jokes over with. Hopefully he'd made the right decision. If it turned out Kila was right, and Mr. Sayco was just using them in some way, he'd kill the bastard himself. Nobody made an idiot out of him besides Kila. He looked at her sitting next to him, examining her face.
Very rarely would Dante catch Kila with her guard down, but every once in a while, his companion would be lost in her thoughts, or wouldn't think someone was watching her, and her face would practically give away everything she was thinking. He smiled gently, as he loved moments where he saw the human Kila, and not the ever-sarcastic, badass Kila she portrayed ninety percent of the time.
She seemed to be contemplating something deeply, and fear was evident in her features, however, so was hope. Was she thinking about their decision to stay here, or something else entirely?
But Dante never got the chance to finish the thought, as the dark-haired girl from before drifted past him and out the door. Suddenly, he needed to be near her, she was the only thing that mattered now. Kila had always guessed that maybe Dante was a Bound, due to the fact that his powers had never been particularly strong, save for the time he'd almost killed his father, but he'd always joke about it and shove it off.
Maybe she was right, and maybe this girl was her.
But that was ridiculous.
Dante stood, shaking Kila from her trance. "Where the hell are you going?" She asked, obviously, she hadn't seen the girl walk past, which was good, for he wasn't up for more of her taunting. He just wanted to find the girl.
He glanced down at Kila. "I'm just going to go explore a bit. Maybe note some exits, you know, just in case."
Quickly, Dante ducked out of the room and glanced down the hall. No one was there, but, at the end of the hallway, he saw a blur of dark hair turning around a corner, and he decided to go in that direction.
It wasn't long before he'd lost her in the maze of hallways in Sayco manner. Dante stood there, utterly frustrated with himself. It was stupid, and he felt like a stalker, following this girl around, and, to top it all off, he now had no idea how to get back to the dining hall. He was about to punch a wall in frustration, when something stopped him.
Music, drifting towards him. It sounded like a piano.
He followed the music to a doorway, that he pushed open gently. Behind the door, was a library, and there, on a piano bench, playing the rather disturbing, yet entrancing music, was the girl. She seemed deeply entranced by her own playing, and he didn't want to disturb her, he simply wanted to watch, so he stood off to the side, listening to the dark, depressing notes, and watching the girl, wondering what was troubling her.
Kila hadn't even noticed when Arthur spoke again. The only words she'd heard were office and safe. She was deep in thought, thinking about the position Dante's choice to stay put them in. It made them vulnerable. It made them weak, and forced them to rely on someone else. It allowed someone else to observe them. To get to know their powers, their strengths, and their weaknesses. Kila had a deep fear of being weak, and she certainly hated the idea of having to rely on anyone else.
Even Dante. She never relied on him. She never put her safety or her survival solely in his hands. Sure, she trusted him to have her back in a fight, but that was different. And sure, Dante was the only person she supposed she could ever love like family, but that too was different. If Dante was killed, or if Dante put her in danger in some way where she had to leave him, she could do it.
It would hurt like hell, but she could do it. She could survive on her own, for she was independent. She hated having to place herself at other people's mercy, even feared it. However, the cause Mr. Sayco was working for was a good one. If Actives took hold of the world, she would never have to run again. Never have to sleep with one eye open again.
But what would that even feel like? To be totally free, without a care? What would life be like? She'd been running, hiding, and fighting since she was young. It was ingrained in her system now. She doubted she could even function without action in her life. As much as she hated Bleeders, and as much as she hated living like an animal, she had to admit that there was a big part of her that was permanently programmed for survival and survival only. She'd always be looking over her shoulder, even when there was no one there, and that in itself might push her over the edge from slightly sane, to completely lost.
Next to her, Dante stood, and the movement, pulled her from her thoughts, she looked up at him and asked where he was going. Typically, she'd have dug into him with some snide comment about the girl from earlier, but she, surprisingly, wasn't feeling it. All of her thinking had kind of depressed her.
She watched as Dante left, leaving her suddenly alone in this huge room filled with people. She looked around at all of them. These were the people she was going to have to train with. She was going to have to work with these people as fluidly as she worked with Dante, and that thought alone was making her head hurt. As she looked around the room, edges of things started to blur and sharpen, then blur, then sharpen again in her vision, and she knew she was starting to lose it. She stood suddenly, and almost fell back over again, but she caught herself on the table, before walking briskly from the room.
Kila had intended to just wander, and clear her head some, but somehow, she'd ended up just outside of Sayco's office. Inside, he was talking on the phone, and Kila suddenly had the need to hear the conversation, so she pressed herself to the wall next to the door and listened intently and Sayco argued with one of the men known for starting the Bleeders. Roger Trinity. The other man was David Harold. A man she knew very well, seeing as he was Dante's father. She could only hear Sayco's side of the conversation, but it sounded like Trinity had accused him of harboring the Active, and Sayco was telling the man off.
After he hung up the phone, Kila stepped out of hiding. It was evident now, that he was telling the truth, but that did not mean she liked the situation. She knew he could see her now, but she honestly didn't care. She couldn't come up with something to say so she watched him, sitting in his chair with a cigar. Her eyes then locked on the cigar, and the smoke drifted towards her, and she realized it had been a while since she'd last had a cigarette. She'd run out of her last pack the night before, and her and Dante were supposed to go into town and steal a few things, including a new pack, before she'd been grabbed. "You should know," she said, surprising herself. She hadn't really intended to talk, but now she was, and all sarcasm and wit was gone. She was utterly serious. "I don't care how powerful you are, I'm not afraid of you." She said, letting the unspoken threat hang there like the smoke from his cigar.
Sure, she knew his intentions were true now, but she just wanted to make it clear that, if he went back on anything he promised them, she wasn't afraid. Sometimes, Kila wondered if she was capable of feeling fear about real things. She was afraid of numerous imaginary things within her own mind, but there was nothing truly tangible that she was afraid of. She would throw herself at any situation, no matter how impossible. Sometimes, it was a blessing, but most of the time, it was a curse. Fear was good sometimes, it kept you from doing stupid things.