Dream Sequence Ch 04 1

Chapter Four: A History Lesson

I stood by the window, looking down at the courtyard. Frost-bitten leaves compact against the earth. I thought about how I woke up this morning—er, afternoon. The first thing I'd done was look down at my hand which, sure enough, had more inky-black spirals. I'd been back in my own bed, in my own dorm. Chloe had been creepily sitting at the edge of my bed, waiting.

"What?" I'd asked groggily, uncurling my body and sitting up. I recalled feeling a little felt woozy.

She'd grinned. "Prince charming dropped you off before. You were dead asleep—a little too much vigorous activity, yeah?" She wiggled her eyebrows.

I'd scoffed and stretched. Instead of feeling stiff I'd felt completely relaxed. "What time?" I had asked, distracting her.

"Hm, maybe a little over two hours ago."

I'd slept for two hours?

Why was I so tired?

Just as the thought had entered my head, I'd found the reason. I had only just managed to stop myself from running my hand over my neck. Instead, to distract myself this time: "Did he say anything before he left?"

There was a brief silence, and then she'd giggled.

I'd raised my eyebrows.

"Well, he said not to wake you up—that you needed your rest—" she'd giggled again before continuing, "and then he told me to give you this…" She'd handed me a folded piece of parchment. "So… are you gonna go?" She'd asked, before I'd even read the note.

I remembering rolling my eyes then read:

If it would please you, meet me in your courtyard—I am sure you have a few questions. You'll know when to come. I apologize for my cryptic discretion, but, should this fall into the wrong hands—though I hold the upmost faith in your room-mate—I cannot risk exposure. My regrets for leaving you as well, however there are happenings that require my attention.

Until then,

And then he signed his name in the same elegant script.

I had stared at it, unsure.

No time? Or even a date for that matter? And he was so… formal… what—

"So?" She'd asked again, impatient. Chloe had apparently overlooked the fact that she wanted to send her friend to meet someone who "cannot risk exposure."

No wonder he held faith in her.

"Well, there's no time on here," I'd voiced my worries out loud.

"Yes, but you can just see when he gets here. Just look out the window."

"I assume that's what you've been doing all of this time," I'd noted wryly.

She hadn't denied the fact.

"Shouldn't you be the one telling me that he won't come?" I'd asked her; Chloe knew how these things worked.

"Yeah," she'd supplied. "But I don't want to loose hope with this one. He's just so…" she'd paused, "yummy."

I had laughed outright. "What happened to your guy then, hm?"

She'd sighed. I hadn't been able to tell whether it was a happy sigh or if she was just being dramatic. So, to clear up any confusion I'd had, she had proceeded to fill me in on what I'd missed that night. I'd gotten dressed at the same time, nodding at the right parts, contributing when it seemed necessary; but my thoughts had been otherwise consumed by the mystery that was Tian.

A

hot

mystery,

my mind had automatically corrected.

I'd had to turn my head so Chloe couldn't see the tiny blush that spread immediately across my cheeks.

Snapping back from my reverie, I felt some weird sensation flow through my body. It felt like someone was pulling me. Like my blood was magnetic.

"He's here," I whispered.

Chloe ran over to me excitedly and looked out the window. "I don't see him." She frowned.

I walked to get my light coat. While not exactly cold, it definitely didn't look warm out.

"I'll be back," I told her, walking for the door. I felt mysteriously compelled to go outside.

I could hear the remnants of her frown in her voice still. "But w—"

"It's fine. You'll be able to see us, you voyeur," I joked, and then walked out the door before she could say anything else.

I stepped out into the biting breeze, and walked the twenty-or-so steps until I reached the auburn courtyard. I turned in a circle, looking for him. Hand on my hips, I frowned. I could have sworn…

And when I turned back around, he was there.

"Holy shish-kabob!" I cried out, thankful for the lack of student pedestrians today. "Are you trying to scare the life out of me?"

I watched his tragically handsome face twist a little in confusion. "What is a shish-kabob?" As he asked, his pale hand brushed my short, unmanageable hair out of my face, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

"It's just a food," I said breathlessly.

"Oh?" His interest seemed piqued. He grabbed my right wrist and held it gently in his hand as he pulled me along and off of the grounds.

I nodded.

"What kind of food?"

I felt like he was distracting me—for obvious reasons—but I indulged him. "It's basically just meat on a stick." I paused. "Or vegetables… I think it's just anything you put on those skewers and on a grill," I added unnecessarily.

We'd stopped walking and I looked up to him curiously.

He was staring down at me, his dark eyes swirling like he was trying to get me to understand something…

I frowned.

His eyebrow raised and he grinned, slowly.

I thought back to what I said—

"Oh," I muttered on inhale. Mortification quickly set in, causing a slow burn to make its way across my skin. "Oh." I looked down in disbelief. Then I looked up at him with wide eyes. "Please tell me I didn't say that."

He smiled down at me. "You most certainly did."

I pulled my jacket tighter around me.

I heard him sigh, and he picked my head up from where I'd tucked my chin to my chest. "You know," he started matter-of-factly, "I never thought that your blush—if you even did, for that matter—would be so prominent; with your skin the golden hue it is."

I felt my cheeks heat involuntarily again, but I said nothing.

"Come," he said, and we resumed walking.

"Where are we going?"

"I assumed you would like to go somewhere out of the chill?" His voice melted me like butter in a microwave.

"When you assume, you only make an ass out of you and me," I mutter under my breath. Really, I couldn't care as to where we were, only the fact that we were…

He laughed, and I knew he'd heard me.

"Come," he repeated, and he pulled me through a door to a building downtown. I hadn't realized that we'd walked so far, so quickly.

After trudging up (well, I trudged, he loped up gracefully) the fourth flight of stairs, I had to ask, "Isn't there an elevator?" I could only hope that I hadn't sounded rude.

"We're here." And he pushed open a stairwell door that had the number six on it.

"…But that was only four flights…"

"Yes," he responded lightly, and walked towards another door. I followed.

"Welcome back," he said grinning, as he opened the apartment door.

I tried desperately to ignore the images that floated up in my mind. "I haven't been here in so long," I muttered.

Tian just laughed. He pulled me down the hall, through the kitchen—I noticed that my clean dish was still by the sink—and into the living room.

"This place is huge," I said, marveling at how much space he had for such a small building.

"It is home."

"So," I started, turning around.

He was right behind me again. He looked at me and smiled.

"What?" I asked, paranoid there was something on my face.

He bent down and pressed his lips lightly to mine, but I kept my eyes open just to make sure my body hadn't caught on fire. Marginally sure it hadn't, I slid my hands up his front and clasped them behind his neck.

He started walking us further into the living room, turning us around at the last second before we went down.

"Mmmf!" I gasped into his mouth. He'd guided us into a chair that, even with my eyes open, I hadn't seen.

Then he pulled his mouth from mine, and I didn't try to stop the tiny groan of disappointment that followed.

He grinned at me, and I noticed absently that we were almost the same height—me sitting on his lap, that is. "You have questions, do you not?" His voice was soft and absurdly melodic.

I figured that I'd start with the most unsettling question. Just to get it out of the way. "How did you know where I lived?"

His smirk grew, completely distracting me until he answered, "Next."

I scowled at him. "Next? You can't just say—"

His lips silenced me quickly but efficiently. "Next," he repeated, his mouth still on mine.

I pouted, and he bit my lower lip lightly. "Fine," I sighed, then squinted at him, looking him up and down. "What are you?" I asked, cutting to the chase.

His mouth quirked to the side, and I followed the motion like I'd been hypnotized. He began speaking, but all I did was watch his lips move. I think he could tell, based on my lack of reaction to whatever he'd said. He smiled fully at me, and it drew my eyes up to his.

"Mmm, sorry. What?"

He raised his eyebrows. "I'm sure you already know."

I stared at him, subconsciously bringing my hand up to my neck.

He looked pained once he realized what I was covering. "Ah," his lyrical voice sounded choked. "I am sorry for that."

"Sorry?" I sounded worried.

He took my face between his hands again, brushing my cheeks with his thumbs. "I nearly

killed

you, Mia. Drained you…"

But, even after his confession, I couldn't make myself afraid of him. The notion of feeling anything but complete admiration for him seemed so… silly.

He stared at me. I stared back, watching the light swirl in his dark eyes.

"You do not find this frightening?"

I tilted my head, and watched his eyes stoop down to my neck before meeting mine again. He looked sheepish. "Not really, no." I brought my hand up and touched his lip. "Can I see them?" I whispered.

"Do you really want to?"

I nodded, but didn't say anything.

He looked at me nervously, as if he expected me to bolt at any second.

"Really, Tian," I told him.

He opened his mouth slightly, and I watched with rapt fascination as his incisors slowly lengthened about half an inch to a sharpened point. I felt heat gather between my thighs. He grinned, and I supplied a tiny moan. I pressed my body closer to his and covered his lips with my own. I brushed my tongue into his cool mouth, tapping it against his fang gently. He groaned and pulled me away.

I watched sadly as he retracted them.

"I'm sorry," I said, wringing my hands in our laps, looking down.

"It's alright."

I peered up at him, waiting for him to say something else.

Finally, "I am sh'ykyr." Tian watched me closely as he said this.

As if I was supposed to know what that is. "Uh, I thought you were…" I trailed off unsurely.

"Oh, no I am," he laughed softly then sighed. "I am vampyr, as you know."

I nodded.

"There are the elite, the t'y—" he stopped, and then reached past the arm of the chair to the end table. He pulled back with a small pad of paper and a pen. "It is not English," he explained. "So I will write them down for you."

I nodded, finding that it was still the only thing I was capable of.

Tian wrote quickly, but it was still neater than anything I would ever be able to inscribe.

As he wrote, he said, "The word vampyr is one of the few in our language that has your vowel 'a.'"

vampyr: vampire

That was obvious.

The next translation was written beneath

t'y: elite

.

sh'ykyr: hunter

I read that and swallowed. "You're a hunter?" I asked him in a small voice.

"Yes," he said calmly, "though not only." He wrote several other words down:

ub'yt: assassin

rytn'k: warrior

z'štytk: protector

s'n'yur: dreamer

The last one had no translation:

up'dyč

I tapped on it with my index finger. "What does this mean?"

"It has no literal English translation," he told me, "but, if I had to choose, I would say that it is something akin to

invader

."

"Hmmm." I stared at the small paper pensively.

"I am all of these," he said quietly, "except for s'n'yur—that is you, Mia."

I stared up at him with wide eyes. "…But I'm not like you."

"You are a dreamer nonetheless."

It was quiet. I could feel his eyes on me while I thought. "You said

language

… you mean an entire language?"

He chuckled at my question. "As English is, yes."

I looked to him. "Say something to me, then?" I asked him this as though it would prove everything was real.

The corners of his lips tilted up. "yt ly'gp sy."

I stared at him in wonder. "What does it mean?"

"You are beautiful." His eyes scorched into mine.

I had to look away. My mind was scrambled. "How do you pronounce these?"

He looked down to the paper, also. He skipped vampyr, starting with the second on the list: "We make different sounds as vampyr, but you would say: t'yo… sha'kir… ub'iti… rutn'ik… z'astickt… sanjyur… yu'pa'dac."

"'Y' seems to be a popular letter," I said absently.

He nodded. "It takes the place of most vowels."

I didn't need to ask why. Obviously some words would be hard to say when you've got fangs in your mouth.

"Have you always lived here?" I felt like I should have known if there was a vampire living near me.

"No."

The way he said it made me look up, but he'd turned his head to look out the window.

"What?" I asked him.

I watched his jaw clench. When he spoke, he spoke slowly, "I am sn'vy od up'dyč."

I recognized up'dyč, but other than that… "Uh—"

"Invader of dreams."

"Oh."

He was snovy-od-yupadac-whatever… a dream invader… does that mean he could see into

my

dreams? I mean,

I

don't even want to see my dreams. I voiced my concern, and he nodded.

I felt my eyes go large again. "You

saw

?"

"Yes."

"The baby w—"

"Myself?" He interrupted. "Yes. I should thank you; I never knew what my mother looked like."

I felt tears spring into the eyes.

"You weren't born a vampire?" I whispered to him. I placed my head on his chest and listened for a heartbeat that I knew would not be there.

"No." He seemed to be thinking. Then he continued, "I was born human—at least, that is what they tell me."

"Who?" I murmured into the dark fabric of his shirt.

"z'vy," he said. I heard him scratch something down on paper behind my back. He slid the pad between us so I could see.

z'vy: elder

"You would say zova."

"Elder?" I questioned.

"

The

Elders. They raised me from a certain point in my life onwards; they are the reason I am what I am now."

"They turned you into a vampire?" I thought it was funny how it was so easy for me to say the word.

He shook his head. "Would you truly like to hear my story?"

"Yes, please, Tian." I couldn't help but feel like I was settling down for story-time. I rested my head on his cold chest again.

"When I was born, the Tokugawa Period was coming to an end in Japan."

I held my breath. I knew my history. That was—

"Tokugawa Yoshinobu ended the dynasty in 1868. I was four years old."

I had to interrupt. "But what I saw… you were born in a hospital. A modern hospital."

He thought for a moment. "I have no answers as to why you see what you see—though I am sure it is crucial. Shall I continue?"

I nodded against him.

"Orphaned children—boys, I should correct—were valuable then. From the time I was a newborn, I believe, I was brought up under the ruling Yakuza family. I was trained as a baka—an assassin. Though that title then was much different than it is now. They told me that my skill was unprecedented. I rose steadily through the ranks and, by the time I was seventeen, I was the youngest wakagashira: the underboss to the oyabun, or kumicho, who was the head of our family. And we really were a family—though my concept of family was never really a certain thing.

"1889, I was twenty-five. I was to take out a member of an opposing gang who had been trafficking in our territory. I had thought it was unnecessary, but my oyabun said it must be done. You did not question him. I'd watched my target for days; watching his patterns. I had planned to make it obvious—a statement—as I'd been told to do. I entered his room at dawn and, while I was used to the dark, found that it was completely black. There was no light in the room at all.

"I moved to the left quietly, stepping around objects that I'd memorized from watching him during daylight. I made it to the left side of his mattress, and I pushed back the curtain on the window that I knew was there. The tiny sliver of moonlight that managed to get through was enough to see him—or what was left of him—on the mattress. I decided to leave by window, but I had… unexpected company.

"Fighting and defeating a vampyr is essentially impossible for a human. And, while I tried, my swords could not penetrate the vampyr's skin. She had me by my neck, suspended mid-air, as I slashed uselessly at her impenetrable skin. Being what I was already, an assassin, she thought I was worthy to become a creature of the night. She thought

I

would be able to help

her

.

"The pain was… something I will never forget. It was days before the venom finally made its way throughout my entire bloodstream. When I saw able to move again, disbelief took priority over all other emotions. It had taken me many, many years to become used to how we move. Everything is easy—immediate. I remained inside, or in the shadows, for years until I had perfected the act of human movement. My oyabun had long thought I was dead, and was therefore surprised when I came to him on orders from my… mother.

"She'd trained me against other vampyr assassins, finding that I was easily the most comfortable and successful in what I did. After all, I had been doing it my entire life. While my oyabun was nearly a father-figure to me, I respected my creator's wishes and finished him; she'd held a grudge against him and decided that it would be my first test. When I came back to her, beneath the grounds of my city, after completing my task, she told me to go back up; to follow the new Yakuza gang, and see to it that I became their new

baka

.

"She never told me of her reasons, but I trusted her—she gave me life when she could have taken it away so easily.

"1915, Harukichi Yamaguchi: founder of the Yamaguchi-gumi gang. It did not start out as large as it is today, though I do not follow it any longer. But, as I started under the first kumicho, I am still an original Yamaguchi.

"To enemies, I was the Shiryō Yamaguchi. The Yamaguchi ghost. I did not age; I was undefeatable; I was silent; I was undeniably deadly. The Yamaguchi-gumi was lucky to have me, and I say so with much humility. However, I quickly tired of the lifestyle, and I left their world completely once Noboru Yamaguchi inherited the title of kumicho in 1925 after his father died.

"When I returned to my mother's home, I found it completely deserted except for one man. He told me she was in good health, and that I needed to come with him for the good of our people. I hadn't realized until then that he was vampyr, also.

"We traveled for a long while—I am still unsure as to the actual length of time it takes one of us to travel from Japan to here."

Tian stopped talking, and I looked up at him. "Who brought you here?"

"Caro z'vy. Elder Caro. You have seen him once, in your dreams."

I thought back to the only male I remember seeing clearly—long hair, papery skin, large eyes. Then I shuddered.