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Not a single light hung in the night. The godless streets of London were a pitch black labyrinth laughing at anyone brave or stupid enough to try and navigate them.
Grimy buildings bumped into him, unexpected corners jamming themselves into his body as hostility greeted him in every moment. As if poking him to go back, find a dark corner somewhere, lie down on the cold street against a wall. And pray.
But he stumbled forward anyway, all the while wondering how he got himself into this situation. He had a katana at the waist of his Yukata but the truth was, Hikigaya Hachiman really was not a samurai at all. It was more akin to a child fishing scraps in his pocket to try and protect himself from a wolf.
A werewolf more specifically.
[A terror roams the streets.]
A blue window hung by his side, made of light but somehow still not letting out enough to penetrate the darkness. There were symbols on it but he didn't bother to take a proper look. He couldn't read anyways, not the white man's language.
She however had told him what it meant earlier and had been supplied with the suitable dosage of snide and sarcasm.
She of course was the beauty that had come knocking to his homeland, looking for a Japanese Man who could conjure these 'blue windows' as he called them, for a hefty sum of money. She was from the land of the free herself.
Or at least that's what they call themselves. He thought bitterly. Land of the free. How funny for all the slaves they keep.
Yukinoshita Yukino walked next to him in a beautiful Victorian white and blue dress. Her long black hair mixed with the darkness like sugar in water but her blue eyes stood starkly out of their depth. He suspected she was half Japanese which would explain why she spoke it so well but he didn't pry much.
And yet she carried on sternly, with a face determined to shake the world. Even if her legs are shaking more than the world ever will. He bit a remark back as they came to a crossroads.
[A terror roams the streets.]
The only constant in their world now was the blue window that hung next to Hachiman as the world shifted around them, changing form and somehow keeping it. Infinitely still yet infinitely hostile like a forest of blades, a gleaming invisible razor at every step.
Fear filled the air as they walked into a particular alley, sweat poured from his skin like morning dew. His muscles tightened and the hair on his skin stood at the end. A palpable feeling made itself home in the center of his chest as his arms felt like they were twigs ready to be snapped under the boot of something stronger.
He could crack boulders with them now, due to all the 'questing' he had done under the tutelage of his American Acquaintance. But against a werewolf? He might as well have no hands at all.
This was insane. She was insane. Regret and anxiety gnawed at him like a hungry beast. He wanted to go back, back to his home, back to his sister and his eventless boring life in the sticks.
And all of this because her fiance had gone about and contracted the Were disease. What madness.
She didn't know what she planned to do once both of them did find him but it better be the wrath of a God if they wish to have any chance to survive this nigh–
Quick and nimble footsteps filled the air on all sides, prowling to change their location every second as to not give them a quick target. Hachiman's hand gripped his katana until his knuckles turned white and the beauty next to her looked even more unsure as she reached into the pouch at her waist. She pulled out a flintlock pistol.
He wanted to scream, mock and scold for being such an idot. It wouldn't do anything against the beast they were facing, she had a better chance of emptying out the ocean with a bucket that had a hole at the bottom.
But then a figure covered in fur walked into the street. Two red eyes and a beastial form so large he couldn't even manage to fathom how much taller it was than himself. Hands and feet clawed like swords that would rip a man open readily with a flick and a wolfs head with a hung open jaw, saliva dripping from ivory teeth, hungry. It looked hungry.
And then Hikigaya Hachiman actually screamed.
But before even the shriek of terror had left his throat, the beast was upon him with it's jaw pointed at Hachiman, ready to feast. The katana in his hands blurred as it swung with unnatural speed, pitting in all of Hachiman's acquired strength.
Against anything else, it would have cut the opponent cleanly into two.
Against the Werewolf, the blade broke into two.
It's teeth sunk into his hand as he heard a sickening crack . His bones had been broken. For a second the world stopped still.
And then pain, pain, so much pain, it assaulted his senses, it erupted in his body, another helpless scream left his body rattling the surroundings but the werewolf did not give way.
Yukinoshita Yukino did not idly watch. Her hands loaded the flintlock pistol in a projected sense of meticulousness and calm but if someone were to watch closely, they'd find her hands shaking. Not that anyone could in this isolating darkness..
Finally the gun was loaded and she pointed it at what was once the man she loved. And then fired.
Blue energy swirled around a red hot bullet that barreled at the beast. When it finally struck it left a hole in its torso the size of a man's head before carrying it away from her companion, flinging it into the night.
The man she hired stumbled up to her before falling to the ground, his hand bleeding like a geyser of red.
She felt satisfaction taking over her. A sense of closure. She had finally tied up all loose ends. She was free now.
Until she heard a howl. It cried into the moonless sky and what came next terrified her more than anything she had ever heard in her life.
Other howls answering the call.
Soon red eyes stared at her aplenty as beasts gathered on all four sides of her. They were cautious because she had successfully maimed one of them without much harm to herself. But she didn't have another Deital Bullet.
Thankfully something came to her rescue. A blue window with text on it.
[Sing the Chant of Escape to survive.]
It was unusual for the windows, it belonged to Hikigaya Hachiman after all, not her but it was also self preserving. It wanted its owner to survive.
So she decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and sang.
"Almost heaven, West Virginia
Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River
Life is old there, older than the trees
Younger than the mountains, growing like a breeze."
The werewolves were agitated by the sudden noise and one of them shot off towards her as it's claw swiped at her torso, knocking her back several feet. She thanked God that she was wearing chainmail under her dress or else her guts would have spilled open.
So she began to sing the final verses of the [Chant of Escape] .
"Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong…" Her throat was parched and her lungs wheezing as the song was not even a fraction of elegance she could channel in her voice. But she was desperate.
The words almost caught in her throats as another werewolf showed up right in front of her, claws raised high to cut her into half. But a green light swirled around her, and around a small dot in the distance. Her companion.
"West Virginia, mountain mama
Take me home, country roads."
The green light fully encompassed her before she disappeared into the darkness and the werewolf's claw sliced through thin air.
Her face crashed against the floor of a barn as the rising Sun's rays filtered through the windows of it. She was back home.
A soft vibrato hung in the air as she recognized who was singing.
"Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, come to mama
Take me home, country roads."
Her mother. She raised her face to see her and found her as beautiful as a woman could ever get. Elegant raven hair hanging at the side of her head as a purple Yukata decorated her body.
Similar in design to the blue one that the man lying face down in between them was wearing. She rushed forward to check his wounds.
"I see that you have gained a new ally, Yukino. But have you succeeded?" She stopped her song and asked.
"Yes mother. Hayama Hayato– or rather what once was Hayama Hayato. Is no more."
"Good.'