Chapter Fourteen: Behind Goodbye

A chapter with some humor, and yet some rather serious moments tied in. A turning point in the relationship of Aura and Kurai.

Several months passed without much incident, well- except for the frivolous little thing called trust. Yes, funny thing that. Turns out that trust weaves its way in after you save someone’s life a few times. Of course, it was a sort of give and take thing- he may have, in return, blocked a bullet with a trashcan lid for me. I’ll never forget how grateful I was in that moment- and then I remind myself that it was stupid coincidence and I should pay more attention next time. When he blocked that bullet for me- he gave me the strangest look, the strangest look because I know it is one I had given before, to my very own Mistress Kay. One that said ‘This is one, But I know I have a million more to make up for before my life is over.’. Somewhat cute actually, if you would think of it that way. I have to admit he has gotten better in combat, using two machetes that granted, probably weigh more that both of my arms. But they are a suitable fit, they carry a lot of damage- albeit they are a bit slow. But hey, I’m the fast one- and we’ve already drawn the line at making him wear a frilly pink tutu and doing pirouettes to work on his speed and agility. Which, while amusing, is also unpractical. And we absolutely did not reach this conclusion by experience…..Even if we did. But he made me swear that we would never speak of that again. I have to admit it’s kind of nice now- being able to laugh at and with him, without always having to be cruel and demanding.

“You want to come with me today?” He asks, lifting a weight bar over his head and flexing his arms, the muscles contract and relax like perfectly timed clockwork. I love to say that I’m the reason this pansy gets so many more stares every time we take a walk around. Because it’s true, Pushing a young man to the very brink of his limits tends to build up muscle mass- of course he learned not to challenge me when I did so; I can still get him on the floor in thirty-six seconds flat.

“Where are you going?” I frown, my brow furrowing as I do one-handed push-ups beside him. We broke down the barrier of ‘trainer and trainee’ about one month ago, we work out together now. I have reluctantly accepted that Kurai is a bond I cannot shake- so I have ceased trying to block him out. Maybe this is what Megan meant- “People who don’t know you wouldn’t know…”, and as it turns out, there are very few people who know me. I will continue to keep bonds to a minimum for as long as I can. But I frown because he knows by now that I am, to the very extreme, an introvert. I don’t like going places unless it is absolutely necessary.

“To see my mom.” He pushes air out of his lungs between each rep, controlling his breathing meticulously just as I taught him to. I suppress a smile as I am forced to acknowledge how far he has come, to the untrained eye- he may even pass for a Slayer. But what he says takes me by surprise- his mother? True, it is my fault for assuming he was, like me, without family. But he had never mentioned her before- of course it may have been that I was simply not paying attention. I tend to decide in advance what conversations are worthy of my attention and which are not.

“M-Mom?” My tongue fumbles over the word as I choke it out, pausing in my push-ups for a moment as I grimance at the way the word feels coming out.

“Yes, Aura. Mom; as in the woman that gave life to me?”

“I know that.”

“Really? You seem confused.” He snickers between reps, quickly realizing his mistake when he runs out of air faster than expected.

“My bad.” I retort a bit snappishly.

“So do you want to come? To see her I mean?”

“I’ve never heard you mention her before.”

“Yeah. There’s a reason for that. I don’t want to talk about it right now though. Stop avoiding the question.”

“That’s the sort of thing a person would ask their girlfriend.” I grunt as I pounce onto my feet, rubbing the back of my neck with a towel as my ponytail swoops down my back, ending with that little curly tail that never wants to go straight.

“What? You don’t think I could pass as your boyfriend?” He jeers, putting the bar back in its set position as I stifle a snorting laugh.

“Uh, how does no sound? I don’t think anyone would really pass for my boyfriend.”

“Oh, don’t swing that way, eh?” He wiggles his dark eyebrows, and I know exactly what he is implying.

“No, and No, I don’t swing the other way either. I do not do the swinging of any way.”

“Oh? You one of those freaky people then?”

“What is this, an interrogation?” I scoff, funny how we can actually have a conversation like this now. It used to be every word he said would grate against my nerves. “And no, It’s more of….a lack of romantic interest on any part.”

“Laaaaaaaame.” He says, before guzzling down half of his bottle of water.

“Well, I think you’re lame, Mr.Know-it-all.” I stretch my calves and shoulders, the scar on my shoulder fading now- but ever present in every conversation we have. I wonder if it is that scar that has inspired us to tolerate one another- perhaps. The majority of my other scars are covered when I am dressed, save for the ones on my hands. “Cool it on the water, We still have a three mile run before we hit the showers for the day.”

“Don’t know why I thought you would go easy on me today.” He groans.

“Yeah, I don’t know why either.” I rub beneath my eyepatch, the sweat liking to trickle beneath the black patch.

“You still never answered the question.”

“Don’t take this personally- but I would rather not meet your mother. Why don’t you ask Mary Sue?”

“Ok, knock it off. You know it’s Marianna by now. And she’s off on business with her dad in Barbados.”

“What sort of business?”

“Apparently her dad is in some sort of “Mafia” in the mortal realm. He’s human you know, her mom was gorgon.”

“ Mafia? Sounds foreign. I would’ve loved to see her father’s face when he woke up the next day.” I let out a sharp laugh.

“It isn’t that funny. Besides- her mom is dead, killed by some renegade Slayer. I don’t see why you two don’t get along, you have a lot in common.” At this I make a sound that sounds like a cross between a dying moose and a chupacabra’s chewtoy, it causes several people in the training centre to look over at us with annoyed stares.

“You have got to be kidding- Me and Miss High-heel-wearing-curled-eyelashes-glitter-on-her-face-tough-as-a-poodle-nit-picking-highness? Have something in common? I want to throw up just having to spend time in the same room as her.” It’s rather true, MaryLu has a bad habit of being a downright snake when I’m in the room- but as I just found out, that may come from her mother’s side of the family. I smile at my little inside joke.

“She can actually kick some major a*s. You would be surprised.”

“What would surprise me would be if she stepped out of her house one day of the week without those gaudy high heels.”

“You’re not giving her a fair chance.”

“She got on my bad side first. I’m indifferent until someone gets on my bad side.” I shrug.

“Yeah, and we’ve seen how long it takes to get back from that.” He snaps, and I know he’s speaking of our somewhat...tense relationship.

“Off of this MaryFlu topic- Who will you go with if not with her or me?”

“Probably Link. I don’t like going places alone.”

“It’s a reasonable fear, considering the world we live in.” I gesture to his feet, making him tighten his laces before we start around the track. As usual, I am faster than he, and his feet thud against the pavement louder than is actually necessary.

“You would be terrible at stealth.” I catcall.

“Good thing I have you then, huh?” He huffs. “Like a freakin’ ninja or something….Can’t even give a guy a warning before you sneak into his room at night…”

“Yes, That would entirely defeat the purpose of sneaking into your room at night.”

“What’ll you do while I’m gone?”

“Probably take a mission with Megan that’s higher up on the shelf, so to speak. Since you’re taking her partner, it might be refreshing to work with her again, like old days.” Megan and I used to work together on rare occasions in the past, but I still figure that having a second slayer on hand would qualify for taking one of the more difficult missions. It knocks out a lot of them, not being able to take anything stealthy because of this guy crashing through everything in his path.

After my comment, it is relatively silent. I doubt I’ve hurt his feelings- even though I have done so on many occasions- I don’t really censor myself for the sake of ‘feelings’. I’m certain many people would agree with that statement. I look back over my shoulder to see him huffing along at his own leisurely pace.

“Hurry it up princess! Or I’ll lock you out again!” I shout back at him, this motivates him a bit- but clearly not enough to drown out the aching in his taxed muscles. I finish our invigorating three mile run with a flourishing bound over the white line that marks the start and catch my breath, pushing sweaty strands of hair out of my face and looking back- only to have the oaf nearly barrel into me like an angry bull.

“We….done….now?” He pants.

“I guess.”

“You guess?! ….You’re one of those…. sadistic people who do this…. for fun- aren’t you?!”

“It clears the mind. Now, you’re breathing awful heavy. Do you need the bucket?” He’s been known to throw up after I make him run long distances. Not that he really wants me to tell you that….

“No….I don’t need….the bucket….”

“You puke and I will personally hit you in the crotch with a baseball bat. I’m not cleaning up after you.”

“Why do I feel like...you’d get some sick enjoyment….out of hitting me...with a baseball bat?” He straightens up, the back of his shirt drenched with sweat.

“Because I would. I’m not ashamed to admit it- I like most forms of pain. Both inflicted and personal.” I give a creepy little smile as I brush the hair out of his eyes slowly, his scent is very powerful- dark and steely, somewhat dank, like a cave behind a waterfall somewhere. He smells like rain, and personally, I don’t quite mind the smell.

“I can’t really tell when you're on that “special time of the month” and when you’re not. I’m starting to think there’s no difference.” He threatens to lick my hand, and I pull back with a disgusted scoff.

“You’ll be able to tell the difference eventually. I get much more violent.”

“How is that possible for you?!”

“You say that like it scares you.” I laugh at him, a sharp clean laugh. “You better knock it off or your girlfriend will get envious. She already looks at me like she wants to wring my neck through telekinesis.”

“Try finding a girl who won’t get jealous when their boyfriend is hanging around a sexy dominatrix with an eyepatch all day.”

“Did you just call me a sexy dominatrix?”

“Well what did you think you looked like? Beach bash barbie?”

“No. I just never thought you would find me physically attractive considering the hell I put you through. Never thought anyone would.” I pick up my bag and toss his to him, he catches it with one of his stiff arms. I’m not really caught off guard by his teasing about my appearance, It seems the sort of thing he would joke around about.

“Oh please- the look guys give you is a look somewhere between, “I hope my girlfriend doesn’t slap me for this” and “I hope she doesn’t neuter me with her bare hands”. Because I somehow get the feeling you’ve done that before.”

“Twice, actually. Rather painful experience- for the male at least. All you have to do is grab the-”

“You know what? Sorry I brought up that subject. Forget I ever mentioned it.”

“What? You don’t want to hear about how you have to rip the-”

“No, Nonononono. I’m good. Let’s just get home so I can shower and go to bed and not have nightmares of this conversation for the rest of eternity.” I laugh as he seriously starts to walk away as quickly as his stiff muscles will allow.

“Pansy.” I mutter under my breath, but I smile. I have been smiling a lot lately, I find. Maybe that just means I have found a way to be content in this world. Oddly enough, even though these visions of my past unbeknownst to me continue to reappear, I find they do not bother me as much as they previously have. I have invested my purpose in this young man now- I will teach him to rival even me one day, and having a purpose somehow manages to keep me from drowning- as a wise young redhead once said. I thought I had a purpose before, and it was a good purpose. But that purpose was broad, far too broad to be efficient. This one, ensuring the survival and proper training of one, who may in turn come to save many others, is a much more attainable goal.

We stride into our apartment to find Megan and Link resting on our couch, watching a black and white movie that has an awful lot of kissing, and even without sound- it makes me feel uncomfortable.

“What are you two doing?” Kurai gripes, a bit testy no doubt after I just made him run- which, as it turns out, is his least favorite part of working out.

“We broke into your house.” Megan states bleakly, not removing her eyes from the flickering screen.

“Yes- but why?”

“TV.” She says, as though that dismisses all interrogation. I tire of the silent war of minds and go to my room, sitting in my creaky wooden chair and waiting for the damned contraption on my desk to boot up. It doesn’t take as long as usual, and I find myself fumblingly looking through missions with clumsy fingers. Some of them catch my interest for a second or two- but I don’t really decide on one until I come to one that reads- “Urgent- High skill level required. Location: GlennHollow, O.K   Targets:Unknown   Number:Unknown   Cause:Unknown   Objective: Secure area.” That was surprisingly little intel for a supposedly “urgent” mission, and I didn’t recognize the name of the admin that posted the request either- and I’d gone on so many missions at this point that I knew all of the admins on a first name basis. It was a bit of a mystery- which led me to remember the mystery of the other village that I had neglected to look into in depth. I cursed myself- but the word ‘Urgent’ just kept popping up in my head- I vowed to myself that after a short rest after this mission, I would delve into the evidence I had gathered and decode that journal- no matter how much time would be consumed. I already felt a bit guilty for being so easily distracted.

I ran off the page of sparse words and walked out to peek my head in Kurai’s doorway.

“When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Perfect.” I give no explanation, just walk out to the living room where Megan and Link are still watching the silent movie, and shove the paper in her face from behind. She snatches it out of my hands and gives it a closer (or further away) look.

“Urgent? That’s not a lot of info…”

“I know.”

“I don’t recognize the admin’s screen-name either…”

“I don’t either.”

“Seems a little sketchy…”

“If it is a set up, do you think there’s anyone better to take it down than us?” I must have played the right card, because Megan looks up at me with that ‘bring it on’ glint in her eyes. Slayer pride- while justified, is also very easy to manipulate. I don’t know why I picked this job out of all others, perhaps its lack of intel and mysterious shroud made me want to do it all the more. For some reason, I felt drawn to it- even though I was not one to be easily controlled.

“So we go in armed to the teeth?” She grins, emphasizing her point.

“You know it.”

“What time will we leave?”

“I’m thinking the next half hour. We’ll want to get there in time to do some digging, and we have to stop by the missions office.” She accepts my explanation without doubt, that’s the good thing about Megan-she never does. She starts to stand up and Link looks up at her with a confused expression, Link- I’ve found that I am not particularly fond of. Not that I’m particularly fond of many people, but that is beside the point. Link has lank dark brown hair that hangs down to his shoulders and gives off a distinct impression of feminism, and then he has this scrawny frame and a puppy dog face that makes me want to punch him right in the nose. He acts somewhat like a puppy too, He’ll do anything if it’ll make Megan happy, and you can practically see his tail wagging when she praises him- seriously, he does a little butt wiggle thing. It freaks me out more than the time I walked in on MaryFlu in the bathroom using something that looked like a torture tool on her own eyelashes, she screeched at me and shoved me out the door exclaiming it was an eyelash curler- Looked more like a vise used to castrate bulls if you ask me- but then, I’ve always seen things in a more morbid way than most others. It’s not even like he has dog or wolf blood in him-he isn’t lupine or lyncan(there’s a difference, trust me. They will take offense if you don’t get it right), or even a shapeshifter- he’s one eighth alchemist, so where in hell does he get that creepy butt wiggle thing? So while the guy can brew up some mean bombs and potions, and build some pretty cool gadgets that Megan claims only sometimes backfire, I will never see him as more than a distinctly female puppy.

“Where are you going?” There go the puppy eyes and annoyingly whine-like voice…

“Aura and I have got to go take care of some business.” Wait for it….

“Where?” Wait for iiiiiiiiiiiiiit……..

“Little town. Shouldn’t be too dangerous. You don’t have to worry, just have fun with Kurai.” Just wait a liiiitle mooooooooore………….

“I don’t want you to go….” There’s the pouting, any minute now….

“Don’t worry about it, why don’t you and Kurai go ziplining or something? I know you love doing brave stuff like that.” I wouldn’t really call Link brave, we had to push him down a ladder more than five feet tall (or anything more than five feet tall) when they were repainting their apartment because it was ‘too high’. But nonetheless her comment does it. Cue the butt wiggle. A shudder runs up my spine and I turn my back to them.

I pretend not to hear Megan peck him on the forehead when my back is turned. I’ve been pretending for a long time now not to know about their “secret” relationship. Please, Megan. I may not know what it’s like to be romantic- but even I can tell you and Link are infatuated with one another. You may as well have spray painted your initials on one another (which somehow I get the feeling they’ve already done once, if not more times- it seems the sort of thing Megan would do). Even so, their supposedly “silent” display of affection makes me feel like an a*s leaving Kurai without so much as a word. I go over and kick in his door, which he has learned by now is my way of knocking. I always told him knocking was for prisses and royalty- up until a few weeks ago, he didn’t really believe me.

“You have my permission to invite the snake in our den when you return.”

“Is this your way of saying I can have Marianna over while you’re gone?”

“The snake. Can come in. The den.” I repeat slowly, as though emphasizing words will help his slow brain grasp the concept.

“Ok then….Is this your way of saying goodbye? Are you actually being nice?”

“This is my way of acknowledging both of our departures.”

“Why don’t you just say ‘Bye, See you later.’?”

“I don’t like saying goodbye.” I state stonily.

“I know I’ll regret asking this- but why not?”

“Saying goodbye signifies the end of something. It admits an intentional absence. Once one says goodbye- they can’t take it back. I feel that if I were to say ‘goodbye’, and you in return, and one of us did not come back- it would give a false sense of finality. Goodbye is what people say at funerals. Hence I will never say ‘Bye, See you later’, because I have learned through experience that often times there will not be a ‘later’. Instead- I will acknowledge our departures and momentary diverging of paths, for I will not say goodbye. I feel that saying that would give me less to fight for, If I were to be gravely injured- I would be able to pass on more easily if I had said goodbye. And I don’t want that- I want a reason to fight harder, not give in easier. Saying farewell, even if it only lasts a few days, does not sit well with me. No- I will say I acknowledge our departures, because saying farewell somehow feels like admitting that something is broken, that somebody has left for good and will not be returning. I will not say it.”

For some reason, as he lays on his bed, his arms propped behind his head and his coal black hair dripping wet against his pillow from his unreasonably quick shower, his skin smelling like rain as it ever does, he smiles. And he smiles. And he smiles.

“Have I said something to amuse you?” I scowl.

“What you just said- It means I won.”

“Whatever do you mean?” I snap frigidly.

“That whole lecture, about saying goodbye- You said you would never leave me.”

“That is absolutely not what I said, do I need to repeat the-”

“But it is. I’ve learned to decipher your way of speaking, Aura. You won’t say goodbye because you don’t want to leave. You’re afraid that if you do say goodbye, it will feel like we will never meet again.” Then all of a sudden he scrunches up his face and narrows his eyes as though a weighty thought just hit him.

“I am leaving now.” I turn, not wanting to acknowledge that he has entirely grasped the concept of why I will not say farewell to any man or woman.

“Have you ever said goodbye before…? I mean...there has to be a reason behind all this...why you don’t want to say it.” I can hear his facial expression in his tone of voice, cautious. But also, curious and hopeful. He is taking a gamble- will I explode in rage at his audacity to ask me? Or will I admit some part of my life to him on a more personal level?

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“I have said goodbye only once in my life. And the words will never pass my lips again.” I admit, my shoulders squared back and rigid, defensive.

“Will you tell me what happened…?”

“Maybe another day I will. For now, I’ll just say one thing….that the person I bid farewell- I never did speak to them again.”

“You can-”

“I will take my leave now.” I say frigidly, my fists balled up into such tight fists that the faint scars on my hands can clearly be made out.

“Goodbye, Aurora. See you when you get back.” I don’t answer. I don’t look back. I just close the door behind me and go into my room- doing exactly as Megan and I said we would, and arm myself down to the very teeth. I file the sharp points of my fangs until they glint in the slightest light, I strap Bloodlust at my side and suit up in my studded leather armor, polishing and buffing the surface before I lace it up, followed quickly by those famous six inch stilettos of mine. I fasten a blade against each of my calves, one curved for great slashing arcs and decapitation, and the other with ridged edges that could be used as a saw in any case. Knives- I carry at least one on me at any given time- but in this way I pale in comparison to Megan, who has chosen the rudimentary tools as her way of life, her ultimate weapons of choice. Bags are cumbersome at best on slayer jobs, and on urgent missions- a lethal mistake. So I make use of the many straps on the back of my armor, straps that would usually be used for a crossbow or two handed sword, and attach a small first-aid kit, practical in cases of slight injuries, and a slip a leather cord between two loops that showcases the very gratification of my existence. It is a fairly long cord, shaped in a circle- but that isn’t what makes it important. This is my Catenam Victoriae, of my “chain of victory”, most of the time they are just referred to as Catenam. It is always on my person, though rarely on display as it is now. My Catenam is woven of banshee hair, and on that sinister blackened rope there are trophies from nearly every kill I have ever made. Except for that demon from the abandoned village- Heramon. I didn’t take a trophy from him, can’t be certain why. Maybe it just wouldn't have felt right knowing that somebody else would be there watching, particularly somebody who wouldn’t understand the trophy harvesting process. It is rather grotesque to look at, but it gives great pride to its owner. My Catenam is crowded with grim teeth, some chipped, others complete, talons and nails that have been pulled out, a small horn or the tip of one here and there, a braided bit of hair or a scale, some will even take the eye of their opponent- but for a reason I think fairly obvious, I leave that untouched.

I bend over the counter in the bathroom and look in the mirror, my own thick lashes and blood red lips look back at me. Blood red. Always blood red. Every morning the only makeup to touch my face will be a stick of dark red lipstick. It adds color to my otherwise pale face. I like having my lips the color of blood- not only is it striking, but with a smile like mine? Lets just say it’s positively murder. I open my mouth and peer inside, my pointed fangs glint in the dim light, seeming to call to my vacant eye socket, seeming to claim that together- their appearance could stop the heart of any beast. I reach behind the mirror and pull out a small plastic container, and from it I draw a single thin metal disk, no bigger than the pad of my thumb. Rules mandate that when going on an urgent job- the participants must wear an inconspicuous tracker, so that, should something disastrous occur, at least the location of the bodies will be known. I am rather wary of this, as most Muortum citizens are of new technology, but I swallow down that irrational stubbornness and balance the small disk on the tip of my thumb before pushing it up into the roof of my mouth. Nothing happens, so I am forced to push harder. With a sharp ‘click!’ the disk produces a sharp needle that lodges deep into the roof of my mouth and I grimace, the only reason the needle has to go so deep is so that it cannot be easily removed, like if I ran my tongue over it, or if somebody tried to pick it out from the arm of corpse. There is a special tool that must be used to remove it, and it too is hidden behind the mirror. For a moment I consider using it straightaway to relieve the discomfort in my mouth, but then I remember why I am wearing it in the first place. Removing it would be both a stupid decision, since the worst part is over and I already have it in place, and an unproductive one- considering there is a practical reason for it being there at all. I put mine in my mouth, a very hard place to discover, but not everyone does the same as me. I happen to know that Megan puts hers behind her ear. With her tangled mess of hair, it is just as unlikely to be found as mine is in my oral cavity.

There is the slight taste of blood on my tongue, my own blood, before I spit it out into the sink.  I don’t want the vampire side of my brain getting any ideas. Keeping it tame has been rather easy thus far in my life, but I attribute that to the fact that I have never bitten and drank blood from another living creature. And for as long as I can help it, I don’t think I shall. I march out to go check on Megan, who is just inserting her own tracker in the exact place I told you, just behind her right ear. She hisses, and a very small trickle of blood trails down her neck, I look away out of courtesy.

“Ready?”

“What sort of question is that? You know I save putting the tracker in for last, I hate that damned part.” She shakes out her bright red hair and I touch my tongue to the roof of my mouth for a moment, feeling my own tracker for an instant before I reply.

“You say goodbye to Link?” I ask nonchalantly.

“No. I announced my departure.”

That makes two of us. Surprising, that only two of us can understand the true meaning behind saying goodbye….