…::III::… The Impossible

Sachiko woke up gasping and clawing at the bedcovers in desperation, trying to escape the terror that had haunted her from within her own mind. Her eyes flashed open, searching for a route to relieve the mental torture, but found only the dark outlines of her own room, punctuated by the dim night-light glow of her Sync at her side.

You’ve become a Hellhound, her consciousness whispered, and she winced internally, instinctively edging away from the awful memory. The remainder of that fateful day was a blur to her. She only remembered leaping to her feet, shouting at Lavernius with the fury that had possessed her, and then running, running, running. She made it up to his floor again, where she’d started, stumbled into the room, found her clothes and her bag and her Sync, took it all and then fled up the stairs from the hallway, this time finding the exit with a betraying ease. Then she phoned the police, babbled incoherently and ended up nearly bursting into sobs. They’d sent a cruiser to find her but didn’t seem to take her recounts very seriously. The officer had looked at her oddly even as he dropped her off at her apartment complex.

Lies, lies, all lies, she thought, trying to comfort herself with this conviction, but her subconscious mind feared the other alternative. She had looked herself over many times since then, looking for any obvious puncture marks but there were quite a few cuts on her, each of which could have been made by teeth or by falling debris of the destroyed shrine. The truth was nearly driving her mad, especially since there was no way to tell for sure whom to believe. Logic, or Lavernius?

“Urgh,” she moaned quietly, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes, forcing the mental pictures from her nightmare to fade away. Then she checked the time – it was only 4:06 am. The sky in her tall window in the corner of the room was still pitch-black. The city’s glow made it impossible for any stars to be seen at any point during the day.

She got up awkwardly and made her way to the kitchen to put on the coffee, deciding that having an extra hour to herself was a much better alternative to taking any more risks with her dreams. The house seemed to be much creepier ever since the incident and she blamed that on the stupid occurrence down in the basement. She’d never been scared of the dark, but now every shadow that moved made her jump and every noise seemed to be dangerous.

As the caffeine began to brew, she tried very hard not to notice for the hundredth time that the scent seemed to be much stronger than usual. It’s the adrenaline, she chanted. I’m just tense. She was determined to avoid linking any of her oddities to the suggested change of her humanity.

Once the warm mug was safely in her hands, she made her way into the living room, sitting down on the long couch and kicking up her feet, looking through the glass towards the Tokyo skyline, studying the lights that outlined the skyscrapers and the intricate mazes of walkways between the buildings. It reminded her somewhat of a spider web, with the delicate-looking passages running between the structures of modern architecture in an almost poetic manner. Her mother used to say that humans have always tried to imitate nature, but they were hardly ever successful.

Her mother... A solitary ping seemed to strum her heartstrings and she tore her gaze away from the window in order to direct it to the wall, where the main monitor was glowing dimly in sleep mode. She got up and walked over to it, touching its screen in order to wake it and then selected their photo album.

Immediately, the image of a young woman in her early twenties popped up, her wavy hark hair loose this time and falling all around her pleasant face like ebony-tinted vines. It rested on her shoulders, in the crooks of her arms, which were holding a flower, and even in her lap. She was smiling.

Sachiko tried to find the will to smile back, but the motion seemed to be linked to her tear-ducts.

“Happy Birthday,” she managed to utter very quietly, and then turned away, leaving the woman alone to look out into the empty room while she hid in her own to deal with her grief.

The day was bleary and it threatened to rain, but despite her father’s protests she insisted on going to school even while her other three siblings stayed at home to eat the cake that had been bought in order to celebrate properly. Soichiro and Keisuke were slightly uncertain about how to act, and Chyo was completely oblivious to the moodiness of everyone else, but her father, certainly, looked more exhausted than usual. Sachiko thought they must have been mirror images of each other; both looking as if they had spent half the night doing heavy labor. She didn’t volunteer to stay and help him lead the party, though. He could deal with it on his own, perhaps even better than she.

Since her brick-red uniform of a matching skirt and blazer over a white blouse weren’t enough to keep her warm, she chose to wear a knitted beige turtleneck to school that day, tugging the sleeves down over her knuckles every so often as she walked through the school campus towards the main building.

All around her students swarmed towards their first class, a mass of one similar shade, like a big maroon tide. Sachiko didn’t pay much attention to them, and therefore started slightly when she felt someone approach and grab her elbow suddenly. She spun around, nearly ready to attack, but stopped just in time when she saw that it was not, in fact, anyone dangerous. Staring back at her was her friend, Aya, whose very Japanese appearance was offset by her bleached-blonde hair wound into tight curls.

“You look awful!” she exclaimed.

Sachiko made a face. “Thanks. Hello to you too.”

“I’m just saying,” Aya sighed, falling in step with her classmate as they continued on their way. “I thought you’d be staying home today.”

“I’ve missed too much of it already. Any more and they’ll suspend me for sure,” she explained unhappily.

“What about your online schooling application? You’re trying to get into it next semester, right?”

Sachiko nodded. “Yes. But they haven’t even gotten back to me yet… Ai!! Watch where you’re going!” she snarled as a freshmen crashed into her from the side. He caught the look on her face and blanched, backing away quickly.

“Sorry senpai,” he muttered and disappeared back into the crowd.

“Calm down, Sachi-chan,” Aya said, seeming startled. “You don’t need to jump his throat.”

“I wasn’t,” Sachiko muttered, hurt.

“Well you sure were glaring at him like he’d committed some terrible crime…” Tossing her corkscrews behind her shoulder, Aya inspected Sachiko’s expression rather critically. “As a matter of fact, you’ve been glaring at everyone lately.”

“I’m not glaring,” Sachiko protested again, feeling exasperated. “I swear I don’t know why you’d even think that.”

“Because I can see it,” the girl said stubbornly, and then paused their conversation while they ascended the stairs and squeezed in through the main doors. The hallways were crammed, but being used to this, they navigated the crowds with precise skill, avoiding the most packed places and taking the back hallways.

“See what?” Sachiko asked once they’d finally gotten into an emptier wing of the school. She adjusted the strap of her bag as it was sliding down her shoulder and glanced absentmindedly out the window. It began to drizzle.

“What?” Aya inquired blankly, and then remembered their point in the conversation. “Oh, I mean see you. You glower all the time. You’re tense, and almost… I don’t know, fierce. Not that you haven’t been fierce before,” she added with a small laugh. “But this is definitely beyond the normal levels. So what’s been going on?”

Feeling her stomach churn uncomfortably, Sachiko had to slow down to avoid nausea. “Nothing’s been going on.”

“Is it your father?” Aya persisted. “I know you get mad at him a lot because he’s practically left you to run the family. Are you stressed?”

Sachiko shook her head silently.

“Sachi-chan, honestly,” the girl sighed. “You’re sixteen, and you’re raising a child. Three children, as a matter of fact. That’s a tad too young, if you want my opinion.”

“I can’t just leave them,” Sachiko responded, startled at the unspoken suggestion. “They’re mine now, I have to take care of them. I always stood in for my mother,” she said, more quietly. “This is no different. She was counting on me to keep them fed and happy and safe.”

Aya pursed her lips. “And who will keep you fed and happy and safe?” she demanded.

“Me, of course,” Sachiko said, not understanding the odd question.

“Well I’ve got news for you – you’re doing a terrible job!” Aya burst out impatiently, turned around and stormed off down the hall, leaving Sachiko to stand by the window while the rain intensified, pounding against the glass as if it wanted to break in and flood the entire school.

Sachiko thought that she might have not minded that at all.

The rest of the day wasn’t much better than the beginning, at least while school was in session. Her teachers seemed to be effected by the weather as much as she was, and their lectures were more akin to fall into monotone than usual. Once, she even found herself nearly dozing off, just barely catching onto consciousness before her chin slid off of the prop of her hand. After that she redoubled her efforts to pay attention, but that didn’t seem to help much.

Around four o’clock, the last bell finally rang and the students all began to pack their things. Sachiko extracted the wireless link from the screen on her desk and hooked it back into her lizard Sync, then putting him into her bag. She shouldered it and got up to follow the stream of people out, waiting at the door for Aya, who seemed a bit guilty now about having yelled at her friend in the morning.

“I’m just worried about you,” she explained softly, and Sachiko nodded, accepting it.

Aya and she had been friends for over five years now, and the blonde alone knew about what had happened inside of the Minami family. Throughout the years she had been a steady friend, and any thought of losing her was worrying to Sachiko. She realized her mistakes inwardly, although she rarely admitted them aloud. Most of her life was spent on the three kids, not on herself. As a matter of fact, a huge part of her adolescence had been given up in order to take over the gap in the family that her mother’s passing had created. It seemed like an unequal sacrifice, but it was necessary.

Plus, she thought herself the only one capable of doing the job. Her mother had always noted on her boundless energy and stamina, on her stubbornness and willfulness. If you want to, you can do anything, she had said to her.

“I’ll be fine,” Sachiko said, and forced a smile. “There’s just been a little more stress than usual. I need a good night’s sleep but these stupid dreams keep on getting into my brain…” She shook her head, trying to clear it of clutter.

Aya looked concerned. “Maybe you need an emotional rest. You know, mentally. To remember who you are. Want to go out right now? I’m free, and I’m pretty sure you are, too. We could stop by the arcade, or the park.”

Sachiko thought about it, trying to weigh the options while they walked across the lawn. One thing was correct – she had no immediate engagements at the moment. All of the children were with her father, who, despite being a terrible cook, was perfectly capable of protecting them. “I guess that wouldn’t be so bad,” she admitted, glancing up at the sky. It was still gloomy. “I kind of want to eat, though. Maybe some soup?”

“Soup sounds good,” Aya agreed, her face lighting up at the realization that one of her ideas had finally been accepted. She paused and then became thoughtful. “Did you want to invite anyone else?”

“No, I don’t think so,” she said, stopping by the school gates to let through a bigger group of seniors who were all together in one big flock.

“No boys?” Aya inquired, smiling impishly.

Sachiko laughed, and it was genuine this time. “I don’t have time for boys. And besides, they’re not interested. I’m too fierce, remember?”

“I remember,” Aya agreed, and then glanced through the wrought-iron fence that separated the campus grounds from the street. “But that one looks interested.”

“What?” Sachiko asked. Instead of answering, though, Aya just nodded at her. Or rather, at something behind her. Bemused, Sachiko looked over her shoulder, searching for the apparently ‘interested’ boy, completely ready to dismiss it as a flicker of Aya’s imagination.

But what she saw made her freeze on her spot and pushed blood to her cheeks. Her head immediately became too light and dizzy.

Leaning against his taxi, Lavernius acknowledged her attention with a mock salute.

“Someone you know?” Aya asked with a fake casualness, trying to mask her immense curiosity. It didn’t work.

Anger bubbled in Sachiko’s stomach, combined with an unexpected embarrassment. “Someone I’m going to kill,” she corrected, glaring at him, her fists clenched.

“Huh?” Aya voiced, but by the time she could form a better-worded inquiry, Sachiko had already rushed outside of the school grounds, flying towards the dark-skinned boy like a thundercloud. He didn’t react to her fury, even when she stopped merely a foot away from him, looking murderous.

“How dare you!” she hissed under her breath. “Haven’t you screwed up my life enough yet? You’re going to stalk me now, too?”

“Stalk?” the Beta repeated in bemusement. “I’m not stalking you at all. I’m simply visiting, checking up on your condition.”

She seethed. “Leave me alone.”

Aya finally caught up to them, looking flushed and slightly shy before the alien-looking Lavernius. He smiled at her, though, and she blushed brightly, smiling back.

“Hello. Are you a friend of Sachiko-chan’s?” she asked, fascinated by his appearance.

“No,” Sachiko snapped.

He laughed.

Aya looked from him to her friend and then back, seeming to not understand the conversation. “Um… Sachi?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Lavernius cut in smoothly. “I was just thinking of something and I decided to drop by. First of all to see how you’re doing…” he paused, glancing at Sachiko, but if he noticed her stressed appearance, he didn’t comment, “… and also to tell you something that might interest you.”

“I’m not interested in anything you have to say,” Sachiko cut off.

He ignored her. “I was thinking there might be… a cure.”

For the first few seconds after the words left his mouth, she thought he was babbling again, but then the meaning sank in. Her anger dissolved and her shoulders sagged under the astonishment. “W-wha…?”

“It’s… a bit of a difficult thing to explain,” Lavernius began, oblivious to the fact that Aya was still standing right beside them. “But I was researching some of the photon radiation reactions on the form of the virus before the first full–”

“SHUT UP!” Sachiko shouted quickly. “Get in! Get in your taxi!” she hissed, pushing him desperately.

“Alright,” he said easily, not seeming surprised. He opened the door and slid in. Satisfied, Sachiko spun back towards her best friend, blushing furiously.

“I’m sorry, Aya, but I… I have to go,” she blabbered, her mind racing. “Sorry… we can go out tomorrow, okay? But this is a little… urgent.”

“Urgent?” Aya asked, trying to peek around the girl. “What’s urgent? Sachiko, who is he, anyway?”

“No one,” Sachiko blurted out. “Just forget about it. An annoying acquaintance, that’s all.”

“Is he… you know… alright?” Aya asked, frowning, a little worried now.

To her own surprise, Sachiko nodded. “Yes, he’s fine. Trust me, I’ll be fine. This is just… uh…” She stepped away, tapping the passenger side door to open it. “Sorry Aya-chan. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Aya said, her eyes wide. “See you…”

Sachiko shut the door again and then turned her glare to Lavernius, who was looking at her in the rearview mirror, his dark eyes laughing. “Drive!” she commanded, grabbing the seating harness angrily.

He pulled away from the curb smoothly and blended into the thin traffic of the road without question, his hand guiding the steering wheel for only a few seconds before he entered autopilot coordinates into the taxi’s computer and then pulled back from the controls, spinning his seat around to face Sachiko’s. In the small space of the taxi, their knees nearly touched and the girl drew away, still angry.

“You did that on purpose,” she accused.

He nodded. “Yes. I figured you were too stubborn to listen to reason, so I decided to use your temper against you.” The explanation was blunt and honest, but it carried no hint of jeer.

Feeling put off by the confession, she switched topics. “Is it true? That you’ve found a cure?” she demanded. “Or are you just trying to get me to come with you somewhere?”

Making a steeple with his fingers, he put his thumbs up against his lips, apparently thinking. “A few days ago, I was making the typical observations when an idea occurred to me. It is an idea that might possibly save you from the fate which you want so desperately to avoid. But in order for me to explain it, you must first believe that what I have said beforehand is all also true.”

She was silent, her expression drawn.

“You must admit to yourself that you are, indeed, a Hellhound now,” he clarified. “That you have become infected; that you are no longer human. A week has already passed – you must be noticing it yourself by now. You’ve changed.”

Sachiko’s breath rushed out harshly and she finally surrendered. “I… I keep on… hearing things. And everything I smell… is so much more… smelly…” She gave a short burst of hysterical laughter. “It’s driving me insane! I can see better in the dark… and I keep on getting scared because of it…” She pressed her lips together tightly for a moment. “And I just feel… I feel… different.”

Lavernius nodded. “That is all very typical. But I’m afraid it’s going to get worse, especially when the moon starts waxing. After that things will only get more peculiar. ”

This did not give her any relief whatsoever.

“Nonetheless,” he said, as if he sensed her desire to move on. “That is good, for now: Your acceptance. To conquer a problem you must first understand it, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Spare me the lecture. I want details,” she urged.

“The details are in the lecture,” he said simply, and then looked out the window absentmindedly, apparently gathering his thoughts again. “And you need some background before I can fully explain to you what to do.”

That sounded reasonable, and so she fell silent, waiting for him to begin, hiding her impatience.

“You see,” he started off slowly, picking his words with care, “Hellhounds – werewolves, for all purposes – are creatures dependant on more than one celestial body. Most beings like animals and humans only need the earth’s ecosystem and energy to survive healthily. We, however, are different. Many of the stages in our life are governed by the moon,” he said. “This is well known in mythology. The moon’s radiation, although mainly undetectable, affects us directly every month. A special chemical in our blood – in our venom, which is in our blood – reacts to the photons it receives from the moon.”

“And you transform into… wolves…” Sachiko said numbly.

“That’s correct. As told in the legends of old, we can maintain a human appearance on all days except the night of the full moon. Then, transformation is compulsory. The feeling is difficult to explain…” He trailed off uncertainly, lost. “In any case, the moon always effects us strongly. Even when it’s not the full moon – whenever it’s close to it, we have the desire to shift because it’s most comfortable that way.”

Sachiko blanched a little. “Will I feel that desire, too?” she muttered.

He held up a finger, silencing her. “I’m getting to that. First I have to explain one other thing. You see, besides the moon, we also have one other connection – a connection to a person.”

This was not what she’d expected. “To a person?” she repeated incredulously.

“Yes. The person that inflicts the bite-wound and the victim of it are linked on a subtle chemical and mental level.”

A frown tugged at her lips. “I don’t understand.”

He hummed and shifted in his seat a little. “Well, alright, think of it this way: It’s nature insurance on our pack ties. Usually, the Alpha of a wolf pack is the strongest and most cunning wolf, and he or she controls the rest of their underlings. With us it’s the same deal, except that the Alpha is usually also the one that infected the rest of his pack. This is because, when the Alpha bites a human, the human, in the process of becoming a Hellhound, develops this connection with their Alpha. It’s a loyalty of sorts, a dependency if you will. For the first span of the moon cycle – until their own first full moon – the new Hellhound draws energy from his Alpha in order to stabilize their own condition.” Lavernius took a deep breath. “Becoming a Hellhound, changing the genetic structure of your entire organism, is very difficult to be able to take. The lycanthropy virus needs to sync to something else that already knows what it’s doing in order to be able to survive. Thus, through this, the link forms and it remains, bonding all of the infected to their Alpha, assuring them obedience and following.”

Sachiko digested this for a long moment, resting one of her elbows on the seat’s armrest and balancing her head on the heel of her hand. “Huh,” she said thoughtfully. It startled her that the eccentricities of the Mutes were turning out to be so complex. As alien as she felt to these people, she felt herself become more and more interested the longer Lavernius spoke. He was frank, and he explained things pretty well in her opinion.

“Got it?” the Beta asked.

“I think so.” She nodded. “So… whoever bit me… I’m supposed to be loyal to?”

“It’s more difficult to put than that, I think. Loyalty is not always ensured. But after the first full moon, the first essential transformation, this link intensifies to resemble something close to a family’s mental chain, yes.”

Her eyebrows grew together as they slowly worked their way towards the heart of this discussion. “So then, who bit me?”

Lavernius looked into her eyes, seeming slightly morose. “Who do you think?”

She thought back to the crowd she’d met in the basement. Faces flashed before her eyes – the wiry-limbed, bright-eyed Quincy; the sharp-tongued and thin Natasha; the rumbling and rambunctious Yukito… None of them somehow fit the bill. And then she thought back to what Lavernius had said – that the Alpha usually was the one to infect the other members of the pack. It made a lot of sense. If someone else had done the deed, perhaps her alliance would endanger his hierarchy. She recalled what she knew about the Alpha himself and came up with practically nothing.

“Tanaka,” she murmured quietly, but Lavernius heard, and he nodded. She looked directly at him again. The revelation didn’t inspire anything in her – neither loyalty nor dislike. “I don’t even know him.”

“You’re already met him,” Lavernius said, his tone dry. “Although not in his human form.”

She flinched, recalling the wrinkled muzzle and hungry eyes of the wolf as it bent over her. Her brain hardly processed the attack, but the memory was burned into her mind. “Him?!” she gasped. Now feelings did blossom, but they were mostly fear and revulsion. “There’s no way in the world I’ll ever be loyal to him!” she exploded immediately, slamming down her fists onto the seat furiously. “He was the one who nearly cracked my skull open!!”

The Beta nodded. “Yes, well, as I said, most of the link strengthens after the first full moon.”

She huffed out indignantly and then fell into a moody silence, staring at the window without seeing anything. There were a few raindrops behind the glass and they slid as the wind pushed them back, racing towards the edge. Sachiko blinked and then refocused her vision on the outside world - they were currently rushing through the countryside. She didn’t recognize the road, but right now that didn’t bother her.

“Tell me about the cure,” she ordered, finally returning her attention to the Beta.

Having expected this, he smiled lightly. “You haven’t figured it out yet?”

“Was I supposed to?” she grumbled.

“No. I guess I left out some important details,” he admitted, and then began to talk again: “The cure relates directly to the bond between the victim and the Hellhound. As I’ve said, the bond only strengthens significantly after the first full moon. Before that transformation, the bitten subject – in this case you – is still unstable, not truly a Hellhound. The venom is in their blood, but it’s more or less passive, drawing from the energy that it originated from – in this case the Alpha – instead of existing on its own. It does not yet know how to respond to the moon cycles and thus everything is slightly weaker, even your symptoms of lycanthropy. You think your sense of smell is strong now?” he teased suddenly. “It will get higher. Well… it might get higher,” he said slowly. “Getting my drift?”

I think so, Sachiko realized, but didn’t trust herself enough to say anything just yet. “Um,” she said neutrally, and stared at him, stubbornly waiting.

“The point is,” he continued, “your Hellhound status is currently totally dependent on the status of the person that bit you. The Alpha is your key into our pack… And he is also your key out.”

She blinked. “So… If the Alpha did not exist… then the venom is my blood would… not do anything?” she asked. Her ears were ringing.

“Yes,” Lavernius confirmed. “Only until the first full moon, when the venom is activated… but in essence; yes.”

“But,” she said quickly. “But what would I have to do? It sounds almost like… in order to stay human you’re suggesting that I… You think that, before the next full moon elapses I would have to…”

The Beta nodded solemnly, his eyes betraying not a hint of hesitation. “That is correct. You would have to kill him.”

LE GASP.

Um, well hopefully at least THAT's a plottwist you didn't see coming.

If you're reading this, then a few comments would be nice because otherwise, y'know, I might just kinda... forget about all of them. __