Crescent Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Fidelity ❯ Without ( Chapter 3 )

Author’s Notes: Okay, I give. I’ve been holding this chapter because it doesn’t feel right to me. I’m posting the part that I know works. You people have been waiting long enough. I seriously think I should stay on the one-shot route but I have so many ideas. N’eh oh well.    I’m living in Hollywood now. Very interesting place, I must say. There’s a lot of tinsel, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s shiny.

Summary: Not only did he hate her for being her and being human, he hated her for making him care.

Rating: PG-13 (Rating may change in later chapters)

Fidelity

Chapter 3: Without After Mahiru changed, she made her way downstairs, silently—perfectly silent and wraith-like that Mitsuru and Akira didn’t realize she was down stairs until Keiko said good morning. They turned in time to see Mahiru nod passively in return, worrying the hem of her black hooded sweatshirt with her slim fingers. Akira raised an eyebrow and looked at Mitsuru. She was back into the no talking phase, when only moments ago she was fighting with Mitsuru over her clothing, which, Mitsuru noticed, was not what he picked out for her. She wore long, black, baggy, sweat pants that had rolled up cuffs because they were too long, and thick wool socks covered her feet. A blue shirt peaked out from underneath a gigantic, black, hooded sweatshirt. Mitsuru knew the shirt Mahiru wore was the baggiest shirt she owned with sleeves that extended far beyond her fingers.   He watched as Mahiru scanned the bar wide-eyed, surprised to see that all the liveliness and warmth had evaporated from the Moonshine. It looked desolate, abandoned, never lived in at all.    White. Everything was so white. Like eggs, like the knee-deep snow outside, like Akira’s “I Love New York” t-shirt. Glowing white on the unmarked, unnaturally clean walls of the Moonshine, reflected off Mahiru’s pale face, the only part of her body showing. White sheets draped over the tables and chairs resembling an army of ghosts; one ghost for each person who step foot inside the Moonshine. The couches were in the bed of the truck, the plants in the van, the glasses and appliances in boxes filling the two gigantic trailers sitting outside. Everything had been wiped down, disinfected, bleached, and burned.   To leave no trace…Mahiru remembered Oboro telling her when she first moved in. So they can't track us if we need to leave. They won’t even know we were here.   Like ghosts, Mahiru thought sadly.   Mahiru looked around the bar again. It was the death of the Moonshine, and it was all her fault. If only she’d been stronger, if only she’d—her eyes started to burn—if only she had done something, anything, her friends wouldn’t be in this dreadful situation. Her eyes stung as if sand scrapped behind her eyelids. She wouldn’t cry. Not again. Not after last night. She refused to cry.   Akira and Mitsuru passed her, heading for the stairs, pulling her out of her dark thoughts. Her shiver and suddenly hunched shoulders didn't go unnoticed. Mitsuru’s brow furrowed. He wasn’t going to hurt her, so why did she keep thinking he would? He sighed inaudibly, frustrated because she was frightened of him—the one person she could trust with all her heart… maybe not all her heart, not yet. It was too much to ask for, and Mitsuru had never thought to ask.   “Oboro took the microwave before I could heat anything up.” Keiko said apologetically, noticing Mahiru’s discomfort. “But I did manage to grab these before they threw them in the garbage bags.” In her hands were two granola bars, and a water bottle. Keiko moved so she stood in front of Mahiru, mindful of her personal space issues.   Mahiru tried to voice her thanks but the words hung in her throat, choking her. A nod was all Keiko got for her trouble. Mahiru felt horrible for not being able to tell her thanks.   Keiko understood.   Oh, how she understood.   The blood, the bite, the screams…   She smiled kindly at Mahiru, and handed her the food. “We’re going to split up until we reach Otsu, where we’ll spend the night. Chino is the first check in station. Eat some food, and fill up. Nagoya’s next, and in Otsu Oboro will give us a briefing.”   A door slammed up stairs and the two girls could hear Akira and Mitsuru fighting.   “I said shut-up!” Akira started to speak but Mitsuru cut him off. “Take the boxes down stairs. I’ll wipe down the door.”   “I was just trying to help.” Akira grumbled.   “I don’t need your goddamn help, Akira. Lay off.”   “Get bent.” Seconds later Akira appeared in his demon form carrying three huge boxes. He winked at the confused girls and set the boxes down. Mitsuru grunted from the stair well and Akira had less than a second to realize that two very big, very brown blurry boxes, were heading straight towards him. He braced himself and caught them without breaking a sweat.   “Thanks, Mitsuru.” Akira snapped sarcastically. “That was helpful.”   Oboro waltzed in as if he hadn’t a care in the world, as if the Moonshine wasn’t in trouble, before Mitsuru had a chance to retort. Oboro was frighteningly normal. Mahiru’s slight irritation gave way to guilt and anger for her own weakness. She had no right to be angry, even if it was at Mitsuru for doing something stupid. They did, though. Oboro, Mitsuru, Akira, Katsura, and Misoka had every right to be angry, to throw her on the curb, and let her freeze to death, but they didn’t and that eased her aching heart slightly.   Nothing that happened was her fault. It was Nozomu’s, and Nozomu’s alone; Oboro had told her that. His first words to her after the attack had been an opposing echo of her most poisonous thoughts. It wasn’t her fault.   “Everything wiped down?” Oboro asked grabbing the last boxes and gesturing for some help.   “Spick and span. Squeaky clean. Not a speck of—”   “Okay, Akira. I get it. You’re done. Let’s go.”   Mitsuru was the last one out in order to wipe down the door. He watched casually as Mahiru walked up to the truck. A baby blue van bursting at the seams pulled up with Katsura in his male form, smiling behind dark sunglasses, driving.   Katsura nodded to Oboro and drove off into the chilly dawn air.   Mahiru followed Oboro to the truck. The only car left. Mahiru was a little confused as to why Katsura drove off so abruptly, but didn’t give it a second thought.   Oboro got in the truck, started the ignition, and as Mahiru made for the passenger side door, he drove off.   Mahiru stood stunned.   He drove off…   …Without them.