Hakumei~Chapter 5

Chapter 51

Finding a specific place, any specific place, that you’ve never been to before in Tokyo is a trial, to say the least. Many streets have no names at all, and others were only named post-World War II. Even for someone who has lived her entire life here, finding an address is…difficult. I shudder to think of tourists and newcomers. In essence, Tokyo is hell on earth for mailmen.2

The total lack of street names would be enough, but this is not the only obstacle that the average pedestrian faces in navigation. There is no grid pattern, and the streets zigzag. It is said that they were built this way to confuse invaders or attackers in early Edo, but I’ve never asked Kaz if the theory is true. In any account, it makes for hundreds of separate neighborhoods, a complex postal system, and a cryptic layout. I quickly get lost.3

Muttering under my breath as the night gets darker, I stalk past a corner that I swear I’ve already passed twice, jostled by hundreds of humans, each apparently going in a totally opposite direction from me. This is horrible. I guess Kaz has forgotten that my sense of direction is…shaky. Zero. Less than zero.4

I turn down one last street, hoping desperately that it is the right one, searching…and am rewarded by a view of a placard: “Meiji Dori”. Yes!! It is strange that this is one named street amongst many nameless ones, but this fact does not register until much later. Now I walk up and down the street, up and down…searching: 1-33-29.…come on… 5

I’ve almost given up hope and am completing a fifteenth frustrated circuit when a voice suddenly calls out from the street behind me in Japanese barely recognizable through an atrocious accent. As soon as I turn he breaks off . We stand, stare at each other for a few seconds. I can immediately tell what he is, just as he can tell what I am, the instant our eyes meet, mine violet, his green. He is tall, about 5’ 11”, and looks foreign. He seems strong, and although he is not the most good looking, his face is pleasant, open and honest looking. His complexion is pale, of course, and his eyes are an emerald forest-green, shot with flecks of gold. He is looking very focused, all his attention on one thing, and it gives him a hawkish appearance until he smooths it from his features, controlled and measured. Dark brown hair, cut rather short in a more modern style, contrasts with his skin. He is wearing a white shirt under a jacket of some dark material that the moonlight does not elaborate upon. Jeans complete the simple outfit. This is my first impression of him. Intelligent and calculating, pleasant and unfathomable, all in one thought. My stomach suddenly and traitorously clenches in nervousness, and I silently give the stranger the folio Kaz left me.6

After a few moments of intense study of the sheets, he looks up at me with a pleasant expression, and his face splits into a huge smile. I can still sense something almost reproachful in his eyes, though, a questioning accusation that I just know he will never voice. But the undertone is fleeting, and passes before I can be sure that it was ever there.7

Holding out a hand, the newcomer introduces himself, again with that almost painful-sounding accent. 8

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Arai. My name’s Caden. Caden Morrigun. Welcome to the yagari project.” (note: name tentative…must get to English-Japanese dictionary) Okaay…. With that, he swiftly turns and walks away, calling over his shoulder to follow him, that I’m already late. He goes quite fast down the street, until we’re almost running. It’s funny. The house we finally go into, a moderately rich suburban house, a recluse in a city of apartment blocks and two-inch front yards, must have been here this whole time but….up until now, I could have sworn that it wasn’t here 5 minutes ago.9

As we cross the landing, I look into a dim house, far too clean and organized, with white carpet. In short, it looks like nobody could possibly live here. Regardless, I follow what’s-his-name’s retreating back down several corridors, until we reach a door. It is a nondescript feature, plain off-white fiberboard, the hind anyone, vampire or human, can punch a hole through with ease. Turning the knob, Caden reveals a second door, and looks at me with a wry, crooked smile. The knob is faintly crackling with electricity, and he reaches a hind under a board to flip a switch. The hum of captured lightning abruptly cuts off and he swipes a card through a slot in the door in order to finally open it. I roll my eyes before following him down the waiting stairs. Geez, how much electricity does one need? Of course, given just how much I am in the dark about this whole matter, I decide not to say one of the many sarcastic comments that instantly float to the top of my head. I follow Caden blindly into the gathering darkness that awaits me on the stairs. A deep breath. It’ll be fine. A memory comes flashing back with the words, a memory that follows me, deep into the depths beneath the pulsing city.10

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I was walking down a crowded street, hand in hand with Ian. Army transports clattered past and men on bicycles shoved past us, taking their burdens of vegetables, chickens, or cloth to every possible direction. I was blinded by the miniature sun walking beside me, on that blessedly overcast and rainy day. Thus blinded, I did not notice the reproachful stares of people we passed, those who saw Ian but as a hated invader, and me as a traitorous and most likely loose seventeen year old. But I had bigger things on my mind, my muddled human mind, working so hard to hide the pain of my mother’s disappearance. Her abandonment of her remaining child when she simply snapped and could take it no more. I forgot the horror stories of a city dissolved in heat and light, leaving blackened and scarred bodies, even the survivors irreparably damaged. No, none of that bothered me, I was too busy watching the play of gray light across his deep gray eyes, a color I would never think of as ugly again. I admired their molten silver streaks, watched the way his slightly curling black hair was tugged by the breeze, and blushed when he caught me staring and flashed me an impossible smile. Ian was my future. Ian was my forever. Ian would protect me from the evils of the world. We would be together until we died of old age. How wrong I was, on nearly every account.12

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Hundreds of stairs and unbearable thoughts of smiles later, the floor finally evens out, and we emerge from the pitch-blackness of the stairwell. What I now see, crystal clear though still a little dimmer than normal, makes me blink several times in disbelief. Nope, it’s still there. Geez, this is weird. We have come far enough to be well below the city, but it’s still hard to believe that something this…this…BIG…is down here, unnoticed. 14

Before me is a huge, cavernous chamber, approximately 800 meters long and 500 wide. The ceilings are at least 100 meters high. The walls are made of stone, so smooth and well fitted together that they look like textured glass. It unsettles me, a type of vertigo takes hold of me as I stare dumbly at its vastness. There are small buildings as well as metal-looking warehouse-looking structures, as well as off-shooting tunnels marked by intricate signs. There are also open, bare and flat areas, marked by definite boundaries, lines of semiprecious stones curving in varied shapes, lines, and patterns. 15

Taking all this in, I’ve retreated into myself again. I jerk from the reverie as Caden waves a gloved hand in front of my face and calls my name, his voice slightly peeved.16

“Sorry,” I mumble.17

We begin to walk across the vast area, to where I haven’t the foggiest idea. We pass several other vampires as we walk, and I find myself keeping my eyes trained firmly on the ground in front of me and away from their searching, curious, and almost condescending gazes. To be honest, that is not the sole reason. This is the first time that I have ever seen, or been this close to, this many vampires at any one time. If I am being truthful to myself, it makes me nervous. If you remember, I have only really known three vampires over a hundred years. 18

Eventually we come to one of the small buildings, and Caden stands to one side as he ushers me through the door and shuts it behind me. It is much brighter in here, and my eyes sting as they have to adjust too quickly from the cave darkness of the stairs and the dimness of the cavernous area outside. Once I can see again, I look around me, I seem to be in a lobby…or a waiting room…or something. Whatever it is, it’s totally out of touch with outside, and even has a potted plant sitting in one corner. A twenty to thirty-something human woman sits behind a desk, looking bored, reading a book. When I enter she looks up, bright brown eyes catching the fluorescent lights. Her swivel chair squeaks slightly as she turns to me, a look of polite interest and helpful competence in her eyes.19

“How may I help you?” Her voice sounds professional, detached, perfect for her job.20

“Um…I don’t really know…” my voice sounds low and uncultured next to her professional tone. I stride across the room and hand her the papers that Caden had just returned to me a moment before. She studies them for a moment, then picks up an old-fashioned handset and dials a number, speaking in a low tone. After only a few seconds she hangs up. Smiling at me, she says “Te director will be with you in a few moments. Won’t you sit down?”21

I plop down into one of the beautiful yet uncomfortable wooden chairs arranged perfectly throughout the room. I keep myself busy staring at my shoes, dreaming of Ian through the dog tags resting on my neck, and wishing I had thought to change out of my school uniform. 22

Absent-minded, I wonder what Kaz ‘had to take care of’. Then, with a cold shiver down my back, I remember what he told me, the other night, would happen if I killed again. No. That can’t be it. Kaz wouldn--er-- that is…Kaz has plenty of perfectly normal things to do, I’m sure.23

A hand on my shoulder makes me jerk back and I snap to reality. Dammit. I really have got to stop doing that…24

Suddenly I find myself looking up at a man’s face, like Kaz’ but somehow….forgettable. The face is softened only by a small smile.25

“I suppose you’re dying of annoyance by now. Come on, I’ll tell you everything.” As we turn to go, I see an almost mournful look on the face of the secretary as she returns to her book, looks away from a distraction. Now I have to wonder to myself whether, given the option, I would willingly want to know anything about this world. About my world. I walk up the stairs, close my eyes, and find myself back with Ian, as bright sunlight glanced off and shone through his gorgeous eyes. Hand in hand, the American and I face the future, whatever it may hold.