A/N: So I am supposed to be working on a Bleach story entitled Paying Up, but I am suffering from severe writer's block. Having worked my way through all fifty episodes of Blood+ earlier this summer, this little piece sprung to life. This is my first Blood+ fanfic. I hope you enjoy it!
From the Beginning
Saya observed her reflection in the floor-length mirror of her hotel room in as she struggled to tie the corset-style bodice of her evening gown. The dress, the color of the flower Hagi had picked for her so many years ago, slunk to the floor in a discreet train, the fabric shimmering fluidly. Her hair, longer now than the last time she had awoken, was pinned up in the best imitation of an elegant style that she could manage.
Her brow furrowed as she added the finishing touch into the dark folds of her tresses, the rose Hagi had bought her at a small florists shop while they wandered the city earlier that day. Sighing, Saya twirled slowly on the spot, her eyes roving over her appearance meticulously. She had tried so hard to make herself look beautiful.
Though she had accepted that her exterior would never change countless years ago, she could not fight the frustration that was welling quickly to the surface. She still looked so young, and tonight she desperately wanted to look like a woman.
She glanced at the clock and started, fumbling for her shoes at the same time she snapped close her small beaded clutch purse. Blessing the fact that she had been raised in high heels during a bygone era, Saya clicked her way toward the grand staircase that led to the hotel's lobby. Hagi would be waiting for her, punctual as always, and she didn't want to be late.
Cautiously, she peeked around the corner at the top of the stairs, glancing at the guests milling around in the imposing marble room. Some were conducting a little late-night business; sipping wine elegantly at the bar. A few obvious couples were scattered throughout the crowd, the women visible in their own evening gowns, jewels glittering on their necks and wrists. Saya wondered vaguely if they were going to see the renowned cellist too.
And then she saw him.
Standing at the base of the grand staircase, was Hagi. He was wearing a crisp tuxedo, his hair pulled back neatly with its navy ribbon. For some reason she could not fathom, he looked more intimidating without his ever-present cello case slung over his right shoulder.
Her heart was pounding a rhythm which could have accompanied a high-paced dance. Saya tried to tell herself that it was only Hagi― the same Hagi she had known as a little boy, the Hagi she had taught to play the cello― the Hagi who had told her he loved her, just before the ceiling of the Met buried him beneath it.
But tonight was different, she could feel it. This weekend was the first time they had been alone since she had fallen into her deep slumber thirty years ago, believing him to be dead.
She apologized profusely when an old, shortsighted woman and her husband bumped into her as they rounded the corner. Stumbling slightly, she rushed to give the elderly duo a wide enough berth to maneuver the stairs. Saya steadied herself on the banister and looked down once more.
Their eyes met.
Hagi's face was impassive as always, but his eyes seemed to be trying to tell her something. Saya wondered if he too was remembering all of the time it had taken them to get to this moment. Blushing, she broke his gaze and began her descent.
She was incredibly proud of herself for not tripping over her dress, having not worn anything so cumbersome in over two hundred years.
Just as Saya was positive she had made it successfully down the treacherous path, her heel caught the train of the traitorous garment and she lost her balance, falling down the last two steps. She had just readied herself for the embarrassing impact with the cold, hard floor when she found herself pressed against a familiar strong torso.
Hagi gazed down at her and Saya was delighted to see the traces of a soft smile around his generally stoic mouth.
"Arigato, Hagi," she said quietly, blushing once more.
Hagi lowered her to her feet, her body sliding along his. Saya wondered, as heat flashed straight to her stomach, if he was doing it on purpose.
She adjusted her skirt, so she could walk again and glanced up at him.
"You look beautiful tonight, Saya," he said softly, holding out an arm for her to take.
Placing her own hand in the crook of his elbow she replied, blushing harder than ever, "I wanted to make you proud to have me next to you," she said, her gaze on the golden flecks in the marble floor.
His warm hand cupped her cheek and tilted her face up to meet his. "You always do."
A tension-filled silence fell, broken by the chiming of the large clock in the hotel lobby.
"Shall we go then?" Saya asked, thankful for the distraction. "We don't want to be late."
Hagi merely nodded, and the two set off through the revolving doors and into the balmy air and the cacophony of the bustling city. They walked in contented silence for the few blocks it took to reach the theatre.
As Saya handed the tickets, a gift from the aging Joel, to the smiling usher she was astounded as she gazed at the colorful whirl of chatty people that surrounded them. She was sure she had never seen so much sparkle in one place before. Even once they were seated in their private box and the lights dimmed, flashes of the women's jewelry glinted when they moved, whispering to their companions.
The music was enchanting, mesmerizing even. The deep, dulcet tones of the soloist's cello echoed hauntingly in the still air. Saya could not decide if she found the music so enthralling merely because it reminded her so much of her past, of the man sitting beside her who had accompanied her through those long years.
Saya was glad that the man did not play the piece she had taught Hagi so long ago. For some reason, she didn't believe it felt right when anyone other than him played it, perhaps because no one else played it with so much heartache.
The last note died away and the audience burst into appreciative applause. Saya smiled as she tried to mask the regret that had reverberated within her with each stroke of the bow over the strings. Regret for what she had put Hagi through…regret that he had fallen in love with a girl who stayed awake the better part of three years, before falling into a deep slumber, forcing him to wander the world for thirty more.
"That was beautiful," Saya commented, as they waited for the crowd to thin so they could exit the theatre. "Did you like it, Hagi?"
"Yes, very much so," he replied. He wondered if she had even noticed that he had not been watching the cellist onstage for most of the performance, instead watching the emotions flit across her face, unguarded, as she listened to the music.
Saya remained strangely subdued as they walked back to their hotel. Hagi observed her out of the corner of his eye, sure that something was bothering her but unable to pinpoint exactly what.
He paused at the small square park in front of the hotel. The garden was alive with roses and an ornate stone fountain played behind them. Rushing water danced in the colorful lights that illuminated the scenery.
"Something is bothering you," Hagi stated quietly. Startled at this pronouncement, Saya glanced up and forced a smile.
"No, it's nothing," she replied, turning to go inside but his firm grip on her arms stopped her.
"Saya."
"It's just that," she began, uncertain how to phrase her thoughts, "I feel…guilty I guess …for making you my Chevalier…"
"I have never regretted being your Chevalier," Hagi told her firmly.
"But it's so unfair!" Saya protested, walking a few steps away from him to gaze at the fountain. "You…love me…and we're only together for three years before I fall asleep for thirty! And when I wake up, there's no guarantee that I will remember anything about you." She shook her head, despairingly. "It must be terrible for you and I'm the cause of of it."
"Saya," Hagi said, stepping up and wrapping his arms around her. She rested her head in the crook of his arm and tried to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.
"It is like learning to play the cello," he said eventually, stroking her back with his hand.
"What?" Saya asked, confused.
"Do you remember what you always said when you first taught me to play?" Hagi said, pulling her even closer.
"No, I….once more, from the beginning," Saya reiterated quietly, disbelief in her voice at how demanding she had been.
"Being your Chevalier is like that," Hagi continued. "It is the same instrument, the same piece of music but each time you wake, the way the piece is played is different." He paused, wiping a tear from her cheek with his bandaged chiropteran hand. "It is falling in love with the same person all over again."
Saya gazed up at him in the wake of possibly one of the longest assertions he had said to her since he was a child. She did not know how she had managed to live the life she had, given what she was. She had known a true family, traveled the world. She had been loved, was loved. She had been given Hagi.
Standing on tip-toes, Saya placed her hands on his shoulders and tentatively placed her lips on his. He tasted like a memory…but so real and certain. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he tightened his hold around her waist, deepening the kiss.
It was new and terrifying and exhilarating. It was as if the world leant itself to them, to the birth of this aspect of their long relationship and was now celebrating.
Saya broke the kiss for need of oxygen and rested her head against his chest, hearing his heart beat in time with hers.
'Our hearts beat in the same rhythm…'
Hagi placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. She shivered slightly as her flushed skin was teased by the warm breeze.
"Are you cold?" Hagi asked, his silver-gray gaze concerned. Saya shook her head, unable to wipe the grin from her face. "We should go inside," Hagi advised, releasing her.
"Alright," Saya said, reluctant to break the moment.
She allowed him to lead her to the steps of the grand staircase before turning to him, her knees feeling like they were about to give out from the weight of her own daring.
"Hagi, will you come to my room with me? I need your help getting out of this dress."
She felt her own nerves fade slightly as his eyes widened at her request. He gazed at her for a few moments, taking in the slightly embarrassed flush on her cheeks but reading the sincere intent behind her garnet gaze.
"If that is your wish."
Even Hagi could not prevent himself from smiling as Saya lifted her skirt and, placing a kiss on the palm of his bandaged chiropteran hand, lead him upstairs.
- - -
Much later, as the unceasing lights of the city flickered beyond the sheer curtains of their room, Hagi watched Saya as she slept, her head resting on his bare chest.
As if sensing his stare, her eyes flickered open, and she beamed up at him, slightly discomfited but incredibly happy.
He bent down to kiss her, meaning it to be chaste, so she could go back to sleep if she desired, but Saya's hand came up and tangled in his hair, bringing him further on top of her.
"Hagi," she whispered, her eyes dancing in the dim light of the room. "Once more from the beginning," she commanded playfully.
Hagi was only too pleased to comply with her wish.
A/N: Hoped you liked it, don't forget to leave a review!