âI have this feeling that you havenât looked at the world and seen anything beautiful in a very long time. Such a crime it would be, if the ugly world lost you.â
He frowned slightly when it sounded like she was going to refuse. Why couldnât he keep offering? He wanted to, and it was clear she needed somethingâwhether she was making the attempt or not, the pills didnât seem to be doing anything for her anymore. He had no idea why, but the important part was that he could help, and she didnât seem to understand that nothing was going to stop him from doing that. Heâd never been like that, really, or at least it was a side of himself that heâd shown to precious few people. Precious. That was part of itâshe was, somehow, precious to him. It was not exactly a new thought; heâd had it before, but this time it carried the flavor of a revelation, as though he hadnât fully understood it before. Sachiko and Kaede mattered to him, they were important in his life, but they were not like Asuka. This was something else.
The sound of his own name, softly spoke him, brought him back to the present, and her words warmed him somehow, spreading from some point in his chest through his limbs, and this, too was hers. Something only she did or could do. He only stiffened for the barest moment when she put her arms around himâinstinct was hard to kill, and he still did not like the feeling of being trapped, but it took him only a moment to relax. He wasnât trapped, after allâor if he was, the snare was of his own making as well as hers. He shouldnât allow this. Everything in his training warned against allowing anyone this close, because anyone at any time could be an enemy.
But not her.
He didnât know how he knew that, but he did. And he couldn't bring himself to doubt it, doubt her, the consequences be damned. The sharp pricking of her teeth on his neck came and went, and he shifted slightly, wrapping one arm around her waist and using the other to clasp one of her hands, moving it around so that her palm was splayed over the center of his chest, where his heart was beating much more quickly than it should be. He wanted her to know that, for some reason, that she could do that to him.
His wound closed when she was done, smoothing out as though it had never been there at all, and he had the absurd thought that he wished it would leave a mark that would last a little longer. He didnât loosen his grip, though, and buried his nose in the place where her neck met her shoulder. Sora wasnât really sure what possessed him to do it, nor what possessed him to shift so that his mouth was there instead, right over the same artery sheâd just punctured on him. He could hear it, the way her blood rushed through that vein there. He could feel it. âPromise me,â he said, and his tone was roughened with some emotion he could not place, but the word was murmured tenderly into her skin. âPromise me you won't leave me.â
He couldnât help but need the confirmation. Everything in his life that he ever loved left him, usually in death. It drove him in conflicting directions. One part of him wanted to hold on to what he had so tightly that he crushed it, so that it couldnât leave, not ever. The other wished for no holds at all, no bonds, no attachments, no weaknesses. Neither would do hereâit was too late not to get attached, if the way he shook, just a little, as he held her was any indication. And he would not crush her. He would not be the reason she suffered. They had both suffered enough for a lifetime, for an eternity. He would not add to her suffering. He would only ever allow himself to take it away. But he couldnât maintain an attachment that had nothing of substance to it. He just wasnât that kind of person, and right now, he needed the confirmation that he was making the right decision here.
Because if he wasnâtâif he allowed himself to admit to what feeling bloomed inside his chest and then she left or was taken awayâit would kill him.
She was rather surprised that anyone had heard about her at all. Were transfer students to this place really so rare? It seemed a very strange thing, for someone who was obviously so well-liked to keep track of such small happenings. Then again⌠maybe it was meticulous attention to detail that made him so well-liked. She doubted someone like him ever forgot a name or a face, and sometimes, the easiest way to make someone feel special was to remember a tidbit or a detail that they didnât even remember giving away. The rather antiquated form of greeting made her smile, something almost a laugh escaping her, but not a mocking one. It was a small sound caught between delight and amusement, more like. She shook her head just faintly, and because she knew how, dropped into a polite curtsey by way of return.
Luke. And Zenith. What an interesting study in contrast they were. Ana picked up on the obvious jealousy she was the target of and almost sighed through her nose. She didnât take it as hostile, really; she would just be another student tomorrow. It was only a sign of how beloved these two were, something which she wondered about a little but chose not to dwell upon. Presumably, nobody else saw what she did when she looked at them, else they might have been more confused than anything, as she was. She was about to speak and properly introduce herself in return when a new voice spoke out, and she glanced up to meet glittering black eyes. This man conducted himself with both dignity and pleasantness, but there was something⌠else. There were too many other people around for her to get a clear read on what, but she knew he was the Headmaster before he said he was. There was just something about him that was very⌠suited to it.
She lost her second opportunity to properly give her name when the headmaster suggested that she take the day to explore the grounds. She personally thought this was a wonderful ideaâshe was interested in seeing if there were any gardens about that she might tend in her free time, or plant if there were no existing such places, but she wasnât so sure that Zenith wanted to be responsible for ushering the new student around everywhere. She imagined it would probably be tedious. Trying to spare him the labor she held up a hand. âSurely, thatâs really unnecessary,â she started, but Luke was apparently in favor of the idea, though she had to admit she questioned his motives there. She wouldnât put it past him to want to make his incredibly-stoic-looking friend uncomfortable or inconvenienced in some way.
But apparently, the silent man himself decided that heâd do it, because he spoke to her himself thereafter, and she was helpless to refuse now. It would just be rude, and she was many things, but never rude. At least not on purpose. Glancing around at some of the other students and observing their rather hopelessly lovestruck behavior, she raised an eyebrow, but then smiled up at him kindly. It faltered slightly when she was hit with another wave of sadness, this one less⌠overwhelming than the last, and different in character, but still enough to produce a sympathetic ache in her heart. âAprès toi, le deluge,â she whispered in her native tongue, almost without being quite aware that sheâd done it. In one way, it was the perfect description of the impressions she was getting. Just how much had he suffered, to wear a face like that all the time? How many people looked at it and were convinced? Was he convinced? She recovered, though, and nodded simply. âAll right. Thank you.â
She fell into step half a pace behind him and to the side, her fingers idly pressing at her sternum, as though the heartache could be removed just by trying to soothe it that way. It wasnât even her heartache. At least, not entirely. She would admit that other peopleâs sadness tended to make her sad as well, but the impressions she received from people were usually not so strong, not unless she was trying to see more of them. With those two, and him especially, she had no choice in the matter. âYou don't have to stay long, if you have other things to do,â she said, when they were out of earshot of everyone else. âI think I know enough to recognize someone being pressured into a situation when I see it. Heâs very subtle, your friend Luke.â
It struck her again as they walked, how beautiful the grounds were. Most of them were simply green grassy fields, but there were also an abundance of trees, largely flowering fruit trees, their arbors spread to catch the incoming light of the sun. They came in confluences of jade and emerald and every shade of green in between, yellowed faintly by the light. A breeze stirred the grass like a great, rippling ocean of it, sending little white motes of pollen up and away into the sky. She chanced a glance at Zenith, but he seemed unmoved. She couldnât help but think that such a thing was a tragedy on its own. When the simplest, most innocently-beautiful things in life could no longer move you, how much were you still alive at all? Maybe it was different for⌠should she ask?
Maybe it was rude, but she would try not to be. âDonât answer if itâs an offensive question or something,â she prefaced carefully, still looking around at the scenery, âbut⌠youâre a vampire, arenât you?â She paused, spotting a flower that was nearly entirely uprooted from the grass beneath it. A little lily, from the looks of it. It wouldn't live another few days, cut off from the soil like it was. She frowned slightly, then plucked it from the ground with care, rolling the slightly-wilted stem between her fingers. Poor thing. âMy father would have used the old word âdaywalker,â I think, but here itâs⌠pureblood?â
The sound of his own name, softly spoke him, brought him back to the present, and her words warmed him somehow, spreading from some point in his chest through his limbs, and this, too was hers. Something only she did or could do. He only stiffened for the barest moment when she put her arms around himâinstinct was hard to kill, and he still did not like the feeling of being trapped, but it took him only a moment to relax. He wasnât trapped, after allâor if he was, the snare was of his own making as well as hers. He shouldnât allow this. Everything in his training warned against allowing anyone this close, because anyone at any time could be an enemy.
But not her.
He didnât know how he knew that, but he did. And he couldn't bring himself to doubt it, doubt her, the consequences be damned. The sharp pricking of her teeth on his neck came and went, and he shifted slightly, wrapping one arm around her waist and using the other to clasp one of her hands, moving it around so that her palm was splayed over the center of his chest, where his heart was beating much more quickly than it should be. He wanted her to know that, for some reason, that she could do that to him.
His wound closed when she was done, smoothing out as though it had never been there at all, and he had the absurd thought that he wished it would leave a mark that would last a little longer. He didnât loosen his grip, though, and buried his nose in the place where her neck met her shoulder. Sora wasnât really sure what possessed him to do it, nor what possessed him to shift so that his mouth was there instead, right over the same artery sheâd just punctured on him. He could hear it, the way her blood rushed through that vein there. He could feel it. âPromise me,â he said, and his tone was roughened with some emotion he could not place, but the word was murmured tenderly into her skin. âPromise me you won't leave me.â
He couldnât help but need the confirmation. Everything in his life that he ever loved left him, usually in death. It drove him in conflicting directions. One part of him wanted to hold on to what he had so tightly that he crushed it, so that it couldnât leave, not ever. The other wished for no holds at all, no bonds, no attachments, no weaknesses. Neither would do hereâit was too late not to get attached, if the way he shook, just a little, as he held her was any indication. And he would not crush her. He would not be the reason she suffered. They had both suffered enough for a lifetime, for an eternity. He would not add to her suffering. He would only ever allow himself to take it away. But he couldnât maintain an attachment that had nothing of substance to it. He just wasnât that kind of person, and right now, he needed the confirmation that he was making the right decision here.
Because if he wasnâtâif he allowed himself to admit to what feeling bloomed inside his chest and then she left or was taken awayâit would kill him.
She was rather surprised that anyone had heard about her at all. Were transfer students to this place really so rare? It seemed a very strange thing, for someone who was obviously so well-liked to keep track of such small happenings. Then again⌠maybe it was meticulous attention to detail that made him so well-liked. She doubted someone like him ever forgot a name or a face, and sometimes, the easiest way to make someone feel special was to remember a tidbit or a detail that they didnât even remember giving away. The rather antiquated form of greeting made her smile, something almost a laugh escaping her, but not a mocking one. It was a small sound caught between delight and amusement, more like. She shook her head just faintly, and because she knew how, dropped into a polite curtsey by way of return.
Luke. And Zenith. What an interesting study in contrast they were. Ana picked up on the obvious jealousy she was the target of and almost sighed through her nose. She didnât take it as hostile, really; she would just be another student tomorrow. It was only a sign of how beloved these two were, something which she wondered about a little but chose not to dwell upon. Presumably, nobody else saw what she did when she looked at them, else they might have been more confused than anything, as she was. She was about to speak and properly introduce herself in return when a new voice spoke out, and she glanced up to meet glittering black eyes. This man conducted himself with both dignity and pleasantness, but there was something⌠else. There were too many other people around for her to get a clear read on what, but she knew he was the Headmaster before he said he was. There was just something about him that was very⌠suited to it.
She lost her second opportunity to properly give her name when the headmaster suggested that she take the day to explore the grounds. She personally thought this was a wonderful ideaâshe was interested in seeing if there were any gardens about that she might tend in her free time, or plant if there were no existing such places, but she wasnât so sure that Zenith wanted to be responsible for ushering the new student around everywhere. She imagined it would probably be tedious. Trying to spare him the labor she held up a hand. âSurely, thatâs really unnecessary,â she started, but Luke was apparently in favor of the idea, though she had to admit she questioned his motives there. She wouldnât put it past him to want to make his incredibly-stoic-looking friend uncomfortable or inconvenienced in some way.
But apparently, the silent man himself decided that heâd do it, because he spoke to her himself thereafter, and she was helpless to refuse now. It would just be rude, and she was many things, but never rude. At least not on purpose. Glancing around at some of the other students and observing their rather hopelessly lovestruck behavior, she raised an eyebrow, but then smiled up at him kindly. It faltered slightly when she was hit with another wave of sadness, this one less⌠overwhelming than the last, and different in character, but still enough to produce a sympathetic ache in her heart. âAprès toi, le deluge,â she whispered in her native tongue, almost without being quite aware that sheâd done it. In one way, it was the perfect description of the impressions she was getting. Just how much had he suffered, to wear a face like that all the time? How many people looked at it and were convinced? Was he convinced? She recovered, though, and nodded simply. âAll right. Thank you.â
She fell into step half a pace behind him and to the side, her fingers idly pressing at her sternum, as though the heartache could be removed just by trying to soothe it that way. It wasnât even her heartache. At least, not entirely. She would admit that other peopleâs sadness tended to make her sad as well, but the impressions she received from people were usually not so strong, not unless she was trying to see more of them. With those two, and him especially, she had no choice in the matter. âYou don't have to stay long, if you have other things to do,â she said, when they were out of earshot of everyone else. âI think I know enough to recognize someone being pressured into a situation when I see it. Heâs very subtle, your friend Luke.â
It struck her again as they walked, how beautiful the grounds were. Most of them were simply green grassy fields, but there were also an abundance of trees, largely flowering fruit trees, their arbors spread to catch the incoming light of the sun. They came in confluences of jade and emerald and every shade of green in between, yellowed faintly by the light. A breeze stirred the grass like a great, rippling ocean of it, sending little white motes of pollen up and away into the sky. She chanced a glance at Zenith, but he seemed unmoved. She couldnât help but think that such a thing was a tragedy on its own. When the simplest, most innocently-beautiful things in life could no longer move you, how much were you still alive at all? Maybe it was different for⌠should she ask?
Maybe it was rude, but she would try not to be. âDonât answer if itâs an offensive question or something,â she prefaced carefully, still looking around at the scenery, âbut⌠youâre a vampire, arenât you?â She paused, spotting a flower that was nearly entirely uprooted from the grass beneath it. A little lily, from the looks of it. It wouldn't live another few days, cut off from the soil like it was. She frowned slightly, then plucked it from the ground with care, rolling the slightly-wilted stem between her fingers. Poor thing. âMy father would have used the old word âdaywalker,â I think, but here itâs⌠pureblood?â