Chapter 4: Is Blood Thicker?
The floor spiralled away from her, and Fate hit the mat again. At least by this time, Nanoha had moved their training location from the hardwood floor to the mats, after Fate had fallen ten times in the first fifteen minutes of their training.
“Get up,” Nanoha said, exasperated.
Fate turned to face the direction of Nanoha’s voice, but lost her sense of where Bardiche had fallen in the process. After a few seconds of patting around blindly, she heard Nanoha sigh, then move over, picking Bardiche up and thrusting it into Fate’s hand.
“Ready?” Impatiently, Nanoha twirled her wooden batons, the sharp swooshes giving Fate a general location to try and aim at. “Again—” A rush of air as she lunged forward…
Fate swung Bardiche up, catching one of Nanoha’s blows on the shaft. Unfortunately, the other one connected squarely with her knee, sending Fate straight to the floor again.
“Come on!” Nanoha shouted. “I watched you do the drills, I know you can fight. You have to concentrate!”
“That was six years ago!” Fate retorted, her angry helplessness finally unleashing her tongue. To her shame, she felt tears building in her eyes. As always since the accident, they burned, the searing pain driving a spike of hot agony through her head. Desperately, Fate yelled, “You took my eyes! How can you expect me to see what you’re doing?”
“What—” Nanoha began, then understood. “You can’t fight one-handed, and you can’t bring your dog onto the battlefield!”
“She’s my partner,” Fate stayed on her knees, holding a forearm to her eyes. Angrily, she challenged, “I’d like to see you try living a life never knowing where you are. And the worst part is, you once
did know, once you were normal, just like everyone else. You never thought of counting your steps so you wouldn’t walk past your own room, or having to ask your friend to take you to the washroom in a restaurant because you
can’t find it. And finally, when you can almost see again, almost take back the dignity you lost…” Fate trailed off, shaking her head. Trembling, she put Bardiche in its storage form and took out her cane, her fingers shaking as she screwed the segments together.
“Go left,” Nanoha said flatly.
Stumbling, Fate crashed into the door, and groped for the handle.
Faintly, she heard Nanoha say, “You’re really
not like Alicia after all.”
“I never wanted to be.”
“But you need to.” Fervour turned Nanoha’s voice deeper and more determined. “That’s the only way we can win this war. They’re scared of her, because Alicia was better than them, and they knew it.”
“She’s always been better,” Fate said, and knew that even Nanoha could hear the sad bitterness in her normally soft voice.
***
Fate stopped, defeated. She had made a wrong turn somewhere, and nothing was familiar. Backtracking had probably made it worse, and she was
not going to call for Nanoha’s assistance…there was no helping it then. Sharply, she whistled, and felt infinitely better when she heard Arf’s distant answering bark.
Odd…two sets of footprints approached rapidly, and soon Fate’s arms were full of dog. Giggling, Fate let Arf lick her face a few more times before she commanded her down. Another muzzle nudged her hand.
“Zafira?”
He whined, and pulled on Fate’s sleeve. Awkwardly, Fate took hold of Arf’s collar—Arf was a big dog, but she still had to crouch over if Arf’s harness wasn’t on. “Find Hayate.” Fate didn’t even have to coax them, both dogs took off the moment Fate got a grip on Arf.
Zafira bounded ahead, but Arf didn’t forget her training, and faithfully led Fate carefully around obstacles and around corners. Soon they were close enough for Fate to hear Hayate’s muffled sobs.
“Hayate!” Fate rushed over, dropping Arf’s collar a few seconds too early, causing her to trip over the bed. Thankfully, she managed to prevent herself from falling on top of her friend. “What’s wrong?” A sharp pungent scent wafted over, and Fate’s expression softened. “It’s alright,” she soothed, finding Hayate’s back and rubbing. “You overslept, right? It’s okay.”
“Sorry,” Hayate sniffed, her shame evident in her voice, although Fate was glad that she could hear no tinge of helpless defeat. It always broke Fate’s heart to hear that wavering tone in her best friend’s voice. Tickling fur brushed up against Fate’s side, and she could feel the tremors in Zafira’s muscles as he solemnly licked Hayate’s tears away. “I didn’t realize how late it got, and when I tried to sit up I…Could you help me to my chair? I’m all shaky…”
“Of course.” Fate searched with a foot, finding Hayate’s wheelchair and hooking it over. She felt Hayate put her arms around her neck, and lifted her friend up, carefully lowering her into the seat. “Go wash up, I’ll take care of this.”
“No Fate, you don’t have to,” came the expected protest.
Fate turned and glared sternly at the direction of Hayate’s voice. “
Go,” she repeated. “We’re family, so don’t worry about it, alright?” Waiting until she could hear water running in the bathroom, Fate started stripping the sheets off the bed. Despite everything she said, Fate couldn’t help but grimace as one of her hands touched the warm wet spots as she rolled the sheets into a bundle.
“Hayate,” she called, hoping to distract both of them. “Could you…could you tell me about them?” Checking the comforter, she folded it and put it against the wall.
That bathroom echo came paired with Hayate’s clear voice as she replied over the faucet noise. “Who do you want to see first?”
Anyone but Nanoha. “Signum.”
“She’s tall, about a handspan taller than you. Her hair, oddly enough, is pink, and tied in a high ponytail that comes down to her waist. She carries around this long broadsword as if it were weightless, and she looks really strong, but not so much inside, you know?” Hayate paused. “You can see it in her eyes.”
“Ah,” Fate said. “It’s hard to tell, listening to her voice.”
Hayate made an agreeing sound. “Now Carim…she looks as kind as she sounds. About your height, with royal purple eyes and golden, complimentary yellow hair. She wears darker colours, but her face is bright and expressive.”
“She’s sad.” Fate heard Hayate stop moving. “Her voice is sad.”
The running water stopped. “Nanoha…she looks like one of those intense bodyguards who are childhood friends with their charges. She wears two katanas crossed on her back like a ninja, but she doesn’t dress like one. I wonder how she can fight in those skirts! Maybe her battle outfit is different.”
“Does she still wear her hair in pigtails?” Fate had to ask. “How does she walk—her eyes, her face, what does she
look like?”
“No, her hair is in a ponytail off her left side…she looks…oh Fate, she looks like someone who’s learned how
not to fall apart after losing someone she loves. But even then, her face is so expressive you can always see what she’s thinking.”
“But I can’t.” Walking over to the open washroom door, Fate felt her way to the sink, turning on the water again and washing her hands, keeping her own face away from Hayate. That was the trouble of having a friend who knew you so well that one look at your face would give everything away. “Out of all of them, she’s the one I can’t see at all.”
***
Trusting Arf to take them straight to their room, Fate contemplated their situation. She really needed to go back to the apartment to get some clothes for Hayate and herself…was it even worth the effort to move all of Hayate’s specialized equipment here? Fate wasn’t even sure if she
wanted to stay in this house…the memories hurt, and Alicia’s absence cut deeply.
Feeling her way towards the closet, Fate ran her fingers over the neatly folded clothes. Did Alicia still resemble her perfectly? Was she maybe taller or skinnier? Nanoha and the others probably saw only the identicalness of their faces, but was she and Alicia identical in
every way?
Her sister seemed to prefer skirts, like Nanoha, although Fate finally managed to find what she hoped were an acceptable pair of sweatpants on the shelf. She doubted that Hayate would be picky about the colour or style right now, as she normally was.
A gasp interrupted her thoughts, and a breathy woman’s voice said tenuously, “Alicia?”
“Alicia, you’re the Black Angel now, and I entrust our age-long duty to you. I always knew that you would be my heir, my little girl…I’m so proud of you!”
Fate stiffened. Even after five years, she could never possibly forget that voice, and all the uncontrollable reactions she suffered from every pitch and tone change directed her way. Her shoulders began to shake.
“No, Kaa-san,” Fate said quietly. “It’s Fate.”
Her mother’s voice wavered, weak with relief. “Alicia…I had such a bad dream last night…”
She was crumpling inwards, without the strength to fight anymore. Her eyes seared, and Fate was five again, was ten, was fourteen, listening to their mother calling out Alicia’s name. Footsteps rushed towards her, and Fate cringed, knowing that if her mother touched her she would break.
“She’s not Alicia.” Nanoha’s voice from the doorway arrested the moving woman. “Precia, that’s Fate. Alicia’s dead, remember.”
“No…” Precia whispered. There was a pregnant pause, then she ran from the room, every step a nail into Fate’s heart.
Arf whimpered, pushing her head into Fate’s chest as the girl slid down, burying her face into Arf’s thick fur. Through the agony in her eyes Fate could feel tears dripping down her cheeks, wet sensations that cut through the dry burning under her eyelids. It had been so long since the last time it had happened that Fate didn’t even have her medication anymore—someone would have to go get a prescription for her.
“Forgive her,” Nanoha said, and for the first time Fate could hear an awkward pity in the other girl’s voice. “I don’t think that she’s accepted yet…that…”
“You don’t have to explain anything.” Fate shook her head, stroking Arf’s ears. “I know. It’s only been a day, after all—and I’m not helping, coming in and taking Alicia’s place.”
She didn’t expect Nanoha to deny that statement; to her disappointment, the brunette didn’t even try. Surreptitiously drying her eyes, Fate exhaled deeply. “Did you want something?”
“Weapons training,” Nanoha replied. “There’s no time to waste, especially if we’re going to have to work out battle strategies for you to use with your partner.”
“My part—” Fate widened her eyes, a reflex motion along with the first genuine smile she’s felt in a long time.
“Things are going to be different.” While Nanoha didn’t sound enthused, she didn’t sound upset either. Desperately, Fate wished that she could see her. “But our goal’s still the same. I won’t let all of Alicia’s work fall to ruins.” The ardent passion in her voice made Fate look away.
Hearing the emotion in Nanoha’s voice—for the first time, Fate wished that she were Alicia.
***
Tonight, Signum made exceptions. Although unbefitting for a knight, even a ruined, failed one that she was, Signum thought that anyone would forgive her current actions. Deliberately, she poured herself another shot and leaned back on the polished wooden patio overlooking the massive garden. Alicia loved those gardens—they were always the first place to look if the blonde was playing truant to training. She could think about Alicia tonight—the vodka made the world fuzzy and bearable.
The patio door slid open. “Signum?” Carim murmured, stepping out softly. Carim, Signum could stand. If it had been one of the newbies, or Nanoha or Precia, her emotional control cup would have overflowed. That Signum could not have bourn tonight.
“Sit,” she said curtly. Still completely sober—she needed to reach a higher place but not fall into oblivion. Signum trusted in her abilities to do so perfectly. “Where’s Nanoha?”
“Training with Fate and Arf.” Carim sat down next to Signum, letting her legs dangle over the edge. “I think she’s actually going to let her try and bring her dog into a fight.” Chewing her lip worriedly, Carim said, “I’m worried that it won’t end well if she does.”
“A prediction or a feeling?” Signum threw back another cup. She had thought that Carim hadn’t known what the knight would be doing, but clearly she did since the blonde set down a shot glass of her own beside Signum’s.
“I don’t care tonight,” Carim replied, and held up her glass. “For all the happy times.” Solemnly, they clinked cups and drank.
“For meeting someone like her,” Signum said, and they toasted again. Back and forth they went, until they did indeed reach their hazy higher state. Silence fell over them, and Signum stared blearily into the sky, the pin-point stars fading in and out of view in a mesmerizing display. Pain-free for tonight only, she promised herself.
Suddenly, from whatever pensive thought in Carim’s head, the prophet asked abruptly, “I wonder, if it hadn’t been for Alicia…would any of us ever have met?”
Her tongue looser than usual, Signum answered honestly. “No. I would be dead.”
Carim stared at her. “So would I,” she whispered.
Signum tilted her head up. Without looking, she poured out two more glasses. Teary, Carim took one, her mind somewhere else again.
They drank.