Eve of Flight II

Flare had retired for the night, owing herself a few hours to sleep before embarking on their revenge mission before the break of dawn. “To recover mana,” she said. Haruki didn’t know if sleep did exactly that, but if mana was as much bodily resource as any in this world, then perhaps. She deserved the rest anyway.

Meanwhile, Haruki continued to toll away at the Kenichi Modern, making sure everything was connected and normal on zero hour.

Sparks flew from loose wires, stinging his fingers with a rousing jolt. He wasn’t sleepy. No. The adrenaline was enough to keep him awake for far longer than a towering can of energy drink. He didn’t need electric shocks to keep him awake.

After connecting the wires, he went up to the cockpit and ignited the engine. It sputtered at first. Worrying. But not soon after, the machine roared to life, humming deeper than he thought normal. But it worked—that’s what was important. The propeller spun on its own just like the very first day he took the KM for a test flight.

Temptation flared on his joints to fly it out, but he’d take both Marina and Flare’s advice to heart. He shut down the engine and disembarked, his feet touching the cold shallows of the shore.

“I was worried you’d break your promise.” Marina appeared from the dark of night, seemingly from nowhere. Just like last time.

Hearing that familiar, coy voice, calm overtook surprise. A familiar calm. “Marina. Thought you went ahead and got some rest.”

She stretched her arms and groaned. “Not when I’m this excited. An hour of sleep is enough for me.”

“Excited? You mean tense?”

“Well, that too.”

Haruki clambered up the open engine chamber again and, tools in hand, double checked if everything was in place. Every single nut, bolt, and crank—no detail spared.

Marina swayed, hands behind her back, and fidgeted while she stared at Haruki working.

Feeling her curious yet intense gaze, Haruki couldn’t help but look her way.

“What? You just gonna stare at me all night while I work?”

“Oh,” Marina stroked her own hair. “I was thinking if… there’s anything I can help you with.”

Haruki raised an eyebrow. “You’ve already done a lot for me these past few hours. I can handle the rest. Actually, I’d rather I did the rest.”

“I see.” Her volume sank, like she was disappointed, more than he thought she would. She sat on the sand legs crossed, and stared into the ocean, water illuminated by silver moonlight.

Obviously, she wasn’t going to leave Haruki alone. There was no use shooing her away, and why would he? He didn’t mind her being there, even if she was untrustworthy. Marina was at least eye-candy he could look at from time-to-time.

He looked over to his toolbox beside Marina. He didn’t need any tools anymore, no—but he asked, “Mind handing me the screwdriver? The one with the cross-shaped tip.”

Without hesitation, she grabbed the screwdriver and handed it to Haruki. The lighting wasn’t perfect, but he was certain he saw her smile.

It was as he thought. She must have enjoyed feeling useful.

At the very least, she wanted to talk. About what, he didn’t know. However, if this was her attempt to build rapport, what was the hurt in reaching out?

“Mind if I ask you something?”

“Huh?” She blinked, expression perking up. “What is it?”

“I’m still unfamiliar with lots of things in your world. Like the most important thing: the Sky Legion. When did they start… you know, attacking?”

“Hmm.” She fidgeted. “They’ve been attacking even before I was born. We can’t predict when exactly they will attack, but if clouds start skimming land and sea alike, that’s a sign it’s about to happen. Usually within a day of it happening, but it can happen a few days after. But never on the same day—until the day you came.”

“So the Sky Legion came exactly when I did. And the low clouds happened on the same day. No wonder Anemone seemed so… surprised. Like she knew it wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“I can’t help but feel it’s my fault. No. It really is my fault, what happened to Ka-Ilyah.”

“Why?”

Marina sat down and curled up. She told Haruki of the time she infiltrated the kingdom with a partner-in-crime and murdered the then-Foreign Minister. Then she told him of her “growing” Titanseye deposits under the castle, of which he was surprised; minerals are just things one can “grow” in this world. The attacks on the kingdom wouldn’t be so intense otherwise.

Haruki asked her flatly, “So why’d you do that?”

“Because it was my job. My work.”

“Why do something you don’t want? Especially if it hurts you and others?”

“Because I’d be punished. My family would be, too. They would suffer.”

Hearing those words, Haruki couldn’t suppress the gnawing sympathy rising from his gut. Nay, empathy. The fear of punishment and making other people suffer if you don’t do something you don’t want. He never did anything that would hurt others so profoundly by doing his job—except for Ako—who he felt loved him because he was a dreamer. And by throwing all that away to feed himself and family that didn’t care about him, he…

“That’s rough.” No, Haruki. Say something else. Pretend you were talking to yourself. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Is that really the best you could do?

“It is. And it’s not like I bore ill will to the people of Ka-Ilyah. I…” Marina’s fingers curled into a fist, sand spilling between the gaps. “I grew up thinking us Sapias were superior. That we had the Divine-given right to rule over the people of this world. That’s what we were taught in the Federacy. Every single institution would drill that into you until you lived and breathed those beliefs. Even my mother, good woman as she was, couldn’t turn me away from such.” Her voice began to crack. “I put those people to death.”

Her mother—Ako de Alfons. No. Ako Yamada. His ex-girlfriend, once thought dead, and now mother of the woman before him.

“The society that raised you did,” Haruki said. Indignation seeped in his tone. “You were afraid of not living up to the expectations set upon your people. You acted not because you wanted to…” His tone lowered. “You acted out of fear, not a genuine desire to hurt anyone.”

“It’s still my fault.”

“It is.” He stared tenderly into her deep, brown eyes. “But you want to make things right, don’t you? This is the first step to doing just that.”

And she didn’t need to fall into the sky to do so—like he did.

Marina looked up. “You think I can?”

“You’re already doing it, aren’t you?”

“I’m betraying my people.”

“My people, your people. Who cares, really?” Haruki smiled and laughed. “This is you taking back your life.” Just like I am.

A spark flew from the loose wire and surprised Haruki. When he withdrew his hand from the mechanisms, a sharp edge cut his finger through his work gloves and drew blood. He barely felt the pain, but felt obligated to lash out. “Ouch. Son of a…”

Marina rushed forward, shocked. “Are you alright?”

“It’s nothing.” He shook his own hand and then showed the small cut to Marina. “It’s just a scratch. Happens all the time when you’re working on these things.” His eye twitched when the stinging pain flared up more than he thought it would.

“You’re hurt. We can’t have that.”

“It’s nothing—”

“I can heal it. Come.”

Haruki blinked. “You can do that?” If she could do that, that would be great. He didn’t want to risk catching tetanus—if it existed in this world.

Clambering down the plane, Marina beckoned him to join her further into the shallows. She took off her stockings before entering the water. The way she tenderly removed them, raising one leg at a time, along with the moonlight caressing her slender figure made Haruki tingle. What a sight. Realizing why she did it, he rolled up his own pants up to his knees and waded into the water.

She cupped water in her hands, and before she poured them over Haruki’s hand, she stopped.

“Haruki.”

“Yes?” He answered with a soft tone.

“I’m not satisfied with what I’ve done. Telling you and Flare the city’s weak spots, and where Anemone might be in. I won’t be content sitting from the sidelines, watching you do the work.” She shook her head. “No. I want to take a personal hand in this… taking back my life—as you said I should.”

Curious. “Okay…?”

She went near him, holding his hand nearer to her body. She stared intently at his open wound.

“Make a Sky Link with me.”

“Huh?”

Was there a consequence to having this many Sky Links active at once? If he strained his body using magic from both Anemone and Flare already, would this not add to that strain?

“I can use my magic to hide your machine in plain sight. Like those ears I donned back in Ka-Ilyah, I’m confident in my ability to create watery illusions—even for something as big as this thing.”

“I already have two Sky Links active. This won’t hurt me, would it?”

“It shouldn’t, as long as you can keep your magic usage under control. Though… it may cause some strain on me. I don’t think I’m as strong as Flare or Her Royal Highness.”

“Then let’s not.”

“It’s fine,” she insisted. “Let me have this. I want to save Princess Anemone, too. With every fiber of my being.”

Haruki sighed, resigned to her resolve. “Okay. Let’s do this, then.”

Marina drew a crystalline dagger and pricked her own finger. She drew her hand close to his, and let their blood join each other at a single point. Closing his eyes, Haruki let the feeling of water rush into his veins. Even in the midst of darkness, he saw the sea, witnessing its ebb and flow like frequencies running on an equalizer.

Anemone’s wind, he remembered, was gentle, serene, yet fierce. Flare’s fire was explosive, burning, yet steady and controlled. And then now, Marina’s water flowed rhythmically, controlled—yet desiring to be free and wild. He could only describe each sensation as their resolve. Their wills to live.

Everyone yearned to live.

I wonder what I felt like to the girls on their end of the link?

When the sensations ended, Haruki opened his eyes. Marina stood quietly before him, the blue sea behind her. Though she looked at him with expectant eyes and a face flushed red. Another familiar sight.

Familiar nerves shooting up his back, he chuckled. “Well, now that that’s done,” he said. His next words shot faster than his upper head could stop him. “We could die later, you know. Can I still take you on that offer?”

“Offer?” Marina’s eyes rounded when she realized what he meant. She covered her chest with both arms, but looked at him with sly eyes. “Ah! Oh you. That was a one time offer. Too bad.”

Haruki just laughed, tension having left his throat. “Oh, thought so, heh. Don’t worry,” he said, as he turned to leave. “I’ll just be—”

“Wait.” Marina tugged on his sleeve.

“What is it?”

“Do you like Princess Anemone?”

Do I? He knew he carried a special feeling for her—a shared desire to fly—but was there something more to it? Was he even capable of growing such feelings, when his wounds with Ako were still tender and raw? Or had he already healed enough to move on?

”That’s a weird thing to ask all of a sudden. Why? She’s special for sure. I’m just not sure about the whole like-like part right now.”

“I see.” She looked away and shot side glances at him, shy, not coy. “She’s special to you.”

“She is.” He nodded, but chose not to elaborate.

Marina chuckled nervously. “Makes me feel like I’ll never have you.”

With rousing suspicion, Haruki chuckled, hand on his hip. “Have me? We’re not doing this again because I’m the most available male Sapia around, are we?”

“No,” she retorted with a firm shake on the head. “It’s because you’re the first man to tell me I can make my own decisions.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m not offering you a night with me, but I want you to have this.”

Marina pulled him forward and down by his coat collar. Without hesitation, she planted her lips on his. Her kiss was delicate yet firm, but vulnerable all the same. She held him long—far longer than he thought she might—for seconds that felt like forever.

Somehow, in ways unexpected, yet made sense in its own right…

She kissed almost like Ako did.