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Amado begins to shiver almost as soon as he steps through the door. It is almost brighter outside than inside. Snow lays flat and heavy on the ground, and thick throughout the air, reflecting at the few flickering streetlights.
Comparatively, Amado has just stepped out of a dark, morbid shop, run by darker, more morbid people. In the interest of a single page of the Book of Otsutsuki, he had been tasked with offhanding some of Jigen’s less interesting goods upon the shopkeepers.
He is actually familiar with this particular location. In the later stages of Akebi’s coma, he had visited with a desperate, last second interest in the occult and supernatural collections promised within. Although largely difficult to believe, he had drawn some inspiration at the time. It seems narratively fitting to him to return, now that he has a glimpse of light.
He navigates quickly along the street. Although shrouded in memory, the area comes back to him quickly. He had lived nearby, in one of the more distinguished houses, up until Akebi fell ill and his funds fell with her. He would walk past these shops nearly every day on his way to the university.
It’s cold, but the wind is still and no further snow is falling. Amado is grateful for that at least. He rounds the corner, boots mildly soaked, to see Jigen patiently where they had parted.
He doesn’t turn at the sound of Amado’s feet in the snow, but he cuts an unmistakable figure. Glancing to either side of him, at the foggy, low lit windows, Amado pauses in an uneasy wave of nostalgia and unfamiliarity.
Perhaps as a byproduct of his flippant immortality, time seems to flow differently with Jigen. In this moment, it wants to stand still. He is half turned, so Amado can see his dim profile against the grey. He is a block or so away, but the distance looks great. The detail in the cobblestone path, the icicles, the harsh beams of wood slanting up the buildings, the bricks, the streetlights, it all looms ominously.
It’s December now, meaning it has been two and a half years since he entered the vampire’s employ. Seven years total since Akebi had become unresponsive. He’s visited these streets a handful of times since then, but at once it seems odd to be here. Compared to two years working with Jigen, five without seems like seconds or days, a virulent, vague dream. The life before, even vaguer still.
Jigen is not a particularly sympathetic or compelling figure. Two years has belied next to nothing about his internal person to the casual observer. Amado, however, is not a casual observer. The vampire is coldly cruel, alienly removed from the wantonness of anysort of bloodlust. His life is a matter of his own survival; nothing else, no one else.
His silhouette looks serene and elegant in the light. There is even a gentlemanly turn to him. Easily observable and catalogued. He carries himself politely and fastidiously. It entertains him to adhere to social graces. He never laughs, rarely smiles, and yet he has a sense of humor about him, some dry teasing element to his personality that easily slips through the fingers. It’s difficult to grasp, hence it catches Amado’s attention.
Uneasily, Jigen in fact commands far too great a percentage of Amado’s attention these days. At first, it had been a distinct fear, an unwillingness to bare his back, and for good reason. He has gotten himself into the habit of watching for Jigen, and now as the days bear on, he continues watching Jigen.
In the snow, the immortal does nothing observable. He doesn’t even blink. His head is tilted gently upwards, eyes fixed on nothing. His face is fuzzy to Amado (presumably his spectacles need an update) but it is as expressionless as always. His own footprints trail off to the side behind him, and another pair from Amado earlier. The snow in front is untouched in grim solitude. Jigen stands alone.
Amado blinks and begins walking towards him. At a certain indiscernible point, Jigen turns to him smoothly like some sort of mechanism.
“It’s done.” Amado says. He pats the front of his coat, where the page is stored. “Though they seemed dubious about your wares. If only you had been there to confirm the ludicrous age with your,” he flattens his lips together, “well, ludicrous age.”
“They would never have invited me inside.”
“They’re occultists, and the macabre sort. I’m sure they would have been thrilled.”
Jigen shakes his head calmly. “I have a bad reputation amongst occultists. It's a complicated history. I fear my diplomatic efforts would only have worsened matters.”
Amado accepts this. “They were very tight-lipped about where they acquired this, but to my understanding it was from a wayward member of Boro’s group. Despite his claims of unquestioning loyalty, it seems someone was still sneaking around behind his back.” he says. “I’m sure there’s a couple more pages missing. I’m not sure if this is a player we should be worried about.”
“We can ask Boro when we return.” Jigen says dismissively. “Perhaps I’ll set Code upon it. He’s been so bored, recently.”
“That’s one way of putting it.” Amado snorts. “I’d prefer that, though. At least let him out of the castle for a spell.” The younger vampire’s unrestrained murderous aura has been more unrestrained and murderous this month. Although Amado fears comparatively less for his life than he has two years ago, he can never fully rule it out. He’d love to set that stressor aside for at least a couple days.
“It’s a transitional period for him.” Jigen says. “He’s settling into immortality. Only last year, his only surviving family passed. His grandmother. I hadn’t allowed him to see her since he turned, but he found out regardless. They weren’t extremely close, but from my understanding he would always spend Christmas-time with her. The month in particular is grating on him right now.”
“So even Code has a human side…”
“It will pass.” Jigen says dismissively. At some point, they have begun walking. “He is still learning. With so few connections, he is bound to place too much importance in them at first.”
“I had assumed you had both completely severed ties with your mortal lives.” Amado says. “I didn’t realize he was so recent.”
“Mm.” Jigen says. “He showed such promise and eagerness in the beginning. Perhaps I overestimated his ability to handle it.”
“It’s a lot to ask of a person.” Amado says. Jigen regards him unsympathetically.
“It’s a gift.” he says. “The opportunity to evolve.”
Amado raises an eyebrow, but has no desire to argue the point. Him and Jigen have contrasting views on mortality; clearly.
Amado supposes he is only one step away from Code at the moment. Without Akebi, he has nothing left holding him to this world. His wife has passed, her annoying sister as well. His parents were never there to begin with. Any other people have touched his life sparingly, glancingly, perpetually repelled.
He’s sure Akebi will reproach him, when he revives her. There’s a good chance her new body will be nigh immortal. She will have no one left to her once he passes. He can only hope his will will be enough to pass on; that she will live something complete he couldn’t give her the first time around.
Maybe it’s selfish.
He doesn’t suppose Jigen or Code will be any sort of comforting company to her. With his goal suddenly becoming tangible, he finds himself considering the logistics of its aftermath for the first time with sincerity.
“You’re thinking so loudly.” Jigen says. “Don’t tell me you’re reconsidering my offer?”
Amado is certainly not going to tell him that. He changes the topic instead.
“I’m just trying to reconcile Code with a doting grandmother at Christmas-time. It’s disturbingly sincere. If only it had imbued him with some sense of charity or faith.”
“He was actually quite a religious boy, shortly before we met.” Jigen says. It’s not often he reminisces. Amado finds him to be a staunchly present figure. He looks over with interest. “Unfortunately, it failed to quite give him a purpose. He lost sight quickly when he was enlisted to battle in 1812. Fortunately, I was there to restore it.”
“Ah. so he was a British soldier, then.”
“For all of one skirmish, yes.” Jigen says. “He lost interest in mortal affairs almost immediately. Hence his promise.”
“Still, the memories of youth are difficult to shake.” Amado says. “At least, when you’re still close to it.”
Jigen tilts his head dismissively.
“I find it hard to comment on the experience. Among our kind, I stand alone.”
“...So you say.” Amado glances back to the streets and the world around him. On this topic, Jigen will never be forthcoming. The thought of it disturbs him. Not from any source of sympathy for either of the vampires. The sickness of eternity as Jigen has seen it, or refuses to say. “...you never had any family…?”
As expected, Jigen doesn’t answer.
“I certainly never had any Christmas-time.” he says, in a particular, mocking way. Amado shakes his head.
They walk in silence a bit longer. The snow is massively muting, but somehow it fails to induce discomfort. In a way, it’s peaceful. His heavier thoughts drift carefully, avoiding looking at the creature beside him.
He catches his reflection in a window, warmly lit, and pauses. Not at his reflection, but behind it, a dress shop and title scrawling comfortably. Amado remembers this place in particular.
He rarely spent time with Akebi outside of home. After his wife died, her sister, Emi had resented him virulently. Malignant with guilt, he doubled down on his work, leaving his sister-in-law to vengefully educate Akebi. This worked well; he rarely had to be reminded of Toki and yet could spoil the girl beautifully from a distance. The only fault was how badly Akebi wanted to be by his side.
One Christmas, when Akebi was six, Emi had fallen ill, though not so tragically as her sister, and Amado, recently promoted and in relatively high spirits, had set aside a week at home. He took Akebi out to buy a Christmas gift. When they passed by this store, she had been amazed, in a manner surely only possible to a young girl. Amado had bought her half the contents of the store; regrettably, this wardrobe lasted only a few years as she continued growing.
The one thing she had held onto definitely, well past its purpose and use, was a particular green pair of gloves with white lacing. Sentimentally or fashionably, both alien attachments to Amado’s eyes, she was partial towards them like nothing else.
Amado doesn’t know where those gloves are now. In fact, most of Akebi’s things, he had been forced to sell. Although he held onto what he could, he’s certain those slipped through the cracks.
“Amado.” Jigen says. Not harshly, not gently. Amado furrows his brow.
“I was only thinking…” he says, looking through the window. “...when Akebi returns, she might like some clothes of her own to wear. I’m not sure Code’s wardrobe will be to her liking…”
“...” Jigen says.
“I’d like to look in this store, quickly, since we’re here.” Amado glances over his shoulder. “We still have quite a few hours until sunrise. I won’t even use one of them.”
Jigen raises a brow. “I didn’t object.”
“...Ah.”
Amado moves to the door. Thankfully, it opens. He glances around the interior, searching for signs of habitation beyond the lights.
A little old woman glances up from a chair in the corner, carefully embroidering a piece of fabric.
“I apologize, is there any way you’re still doing business? I know it’s late…”
“Of course! Of course sir!” the old woman moves to stand with minute difficulty. “Come in, both of you.”
Amado hadn’t realized Jigen was looming behind him until the vampire accepts the invitation and enters.
With Akebi, Amado remembers there being decorations of green, blooming plants throughout the store. Years later, it is no different. It lends a charming, wintery air, besides the chill. Amado quickly shuts the door behind them.
Both the woman and Jigen look at him expectantly. Amado feels a bit admonished by it. He’s not entirely sure where to begin.
“I suppose,” he says, “I’m looking to place a fairly large order, with no particular sense of urgency. Within the next year or so will do.” he glances around again. “Just four of your most popular winter styles, and four for the summer.”
“Who are you shopping for, sir?” the woman says, gathering up her work and setting it aside. “A sister, niece, fiance…?”
In her haste, her finger slips against one of the pins. A small bead of blood manifests which she immediately yanks away from. Amado glances at it, then to Jigen to see his reaction. Instead, Jigen is already looking at him, with mild amusement. Amado, yet again, feels somehow admonished.
“His daughter.” Jigen provides. “She would be…in her seventeenth year, now?”
The woman nods, beckoning Amado over to her desk.
“Here, take a look here, I think the pattern book will do you some good.” she wipes her bloody thumb in the folds of her skirt innocently. “Do you know her measurements? Or perhaps we can make an appointment for later…”
“No, I have them…” the woman presses a pen and paper towards him, and he begins writing.
It occurs to him as he does so that the woman is likely only ten or so years older than him, if that. The candlelight and angle had made her seem much more wizened, but she is light enough on her feet and Amado can see a few traces of brown left in her grey hair.
It’s a little sobering. He glances briefly at Jigen, wondering what sort of withered creature he must seem in similar affliction. The vampire’s expression yields no sign, as it ever does.
“Once you’ve finished, here; come here.” the woman says, grabbing Amado’s hand as soon as he puts the pen down to rest. “We have a wide collection of accessories as well; mostly made in house. Everything can be customized to your liking.”
She ushers him to a smaller display, in the back half of the store where the ceiling begins to close into shabbier archways. Amado glances over, landing on a pair of gloves which seem suitably nostalgic.
“These should do.” Amado says. “Anything else…I shall have to come back later with my daughter…” he trails off. It feels odd to set anything so definite, still. Although he has persisted with hope, it was mostly delusion. It begins to feel genuine, now, which is startling.
“Is she travelling…?”
“Ah, something like that.” Amado says. “She’s…ill.”
“Oh, a terrible pity.” the woman says, shaking her head pithily. “And your wife…?”
“...” Amado says. “No longer with us, I’m afraid.”
“A greater pity still.” she sighs. However, she eyes him once over surreptitiously. Amado feels instantly mollified by her intent.
“Well, regarding my order-”
“I also have recently begun a selection of men’s wear as well.” the woman continues on. “It still awaits critical review, but do tell me, if anything seems to suit your style…”
She bustles Amado across the store again.
“Frankly, I am irreconcilable with style.” Amado says, hands up in gentle surrender. “If I can just manage to secure my daughter’s wardrobe, she would be happy with me, but at this point in life, were I to make any fashion choices, I fear she would perceive me as a great embarrassment.”
The woman laughs at his diplomacy. Amado sees Jigen in the corner of his eye tilt his head, flicking through a rack of clothes lazily. No help whatsoever.
“Oh!” the woman says suddenly. “Speaking of embarrassment, look at that!” she points up above her head. Amado looks as well. Nothing seems remarkable, save more of the Christmas-time decor fastened securely to the low roof beam.
“...”
“I suppose you upper class folks don’t know all of our silly traditions,” the woman says demurely, though her expression belies this. “It’s a mistletoe plant. Two people underneath it ought to kiss, as long as there’s berries on it still, or else risk misfortune.”
“...Is that so.”
“Help an old lady out, would you?” the woman says. Her seniority is called into question with her wicked fast grip of Amado’s arm. “My husband’s passed several years now as well, I can’t handle any poorer luck than that.”
Amado would like to question the presence of this plant if it poses such incredible danger, but he instead takes the path of least resistance and brings her hand to his mouth politely.
“I would hate to worsen your suffering.” he says. The dryness goes over her head, but she seems at least sated for the moment. “In that vein, I would hate to keep you up too late past your shop hours.”
She opens her mouth, and Amado hastily continues.
“Might we draw up an initial bill for the dresses, and set a date for completion?”
“Of course, of course.” the woman pats Amado’s arm firmly, then hurries to the desk to draw figures. Amado rolls his eyes privately.
Needless to say, the final number is eyebrow-raising, but Amado masters this expression and calmly reaches for his wallet. Unfortunately, it is not on him. He only gets so far as fumbling in his breast pocket (where it definitely is not) before a bag of coins lands unceremoniously on the table.
Jigen, who has manifested directly behind him, blinks drily in his face in clear mockery.
“I hope that will cover it.” he says.
The woman starts, then again when she opens the bag.
“Without question, sir!” she says, unable to hide the stars in her eyes.
She quickly retreats to the back, presumably to hunt down change. Amado watches her leave, keeping one wary eye on Jigen, who is still close at hand.
“I’ll reimburse you as soon as we return to the manor.” he says, moving a few steps away from the desk. The matter of money between them is a bit laughable, theoretically, as anything Amado has left is supplied by Jigen anyway. But up until this point, there have been few scenarios where Amado wants to purchase something unrelated to the project. Much less something of this financial magnitude.
“No need.” Jigen says. “Consider it a charitable act for the Christmas season.” his voice and face are utterly devoid of anything remotely resembling ‘joy’ or ‘kindness’ so Amado finds this quip of his very difficult to humor. In terms of power plays, though, he’s doomed to beat out Amado every time, so it’s not even worth thinking over.
Amado just sighs.
He walks a couple more steps, trying to peer behind the back door the woman had disappeared through, in search of a social buffer between him and Jigen (forgetting, momentarily, the pain her presence has wrought). He has no such luck. Instead, he twists his foot slightly on the turn and almost stumbles.
Jigen manifests beside him, supporting his elbow needlessly. Amado glares suspiciously and rights himself.
“You could at least try to be grateful for my presence.” Jigen says chidingly. He tilts his head upwards minutely. “Here. Look at that.”
Amado looks up. He blinks a few times. He looks back at Jigen.
“What about it?”
“You heard what she said.” Jigen says. “It’s bad luck.”
“That’s not some sort of…legitimate rule or consequence. It’s just a cheap superstition.”
“You should know by now better than to discount superstition, Amado.” Jigen tilts his head, eyes catching the light bloodily.
Amado reacts dubiously. He can tell this amuses Jigen. There’s a certain foul tilt to his mouth. Even though he has more than enough power to seize Amado in this moment, he would rather play mind games with him. He would rather see what Amado wants to do, how Amado wants to play this.
Inexplicably, Amado thinks of Jigen’s silent figure in the snow, embedded in the fog so as to barely leave an imprint on the street’s surface.
He had looked…in a way, lonely.
Both his hands are gloved and tucked firmly within the confines of his cape; Amado doubts he’ll be able to grasp them. He leans up slightly, veering to the side of Jigen’s face. The vampire foils this move and follows him, keeping their eyes aligned.
The angle and proximity, as manipulated, would look compromising to anyone. Amado feels Jigen’s breathless lips next to his and his odd, expectant gaze laughing at him.
He rolls his eyes and puts a hand over Jigen’s mouth firmly. Thus muzzled, Jigen’s molten eyes are left to follow Amado as he tilts the vampire’s head down and kisses his forehead.
For a moment, he holds it, overcome with thought. This passes, and he parts from Jigen.
The vampire lets him leave. With this distance, his expression is apparent to Amado, who absorbs it instantly. His brows are furrowed, just slightly creasing the marble planes of his face. His eyes burn a tremendous hole in Amado’s. He seems, genuinely, taken aback.
Amado feels another unbidden thought, or perhaps emotion, seized by this imagery.
“Hopefully that will improve your fortune.” he says, caustically, in lieu of this. Jigen blinks, and his hand twitches out of the cloak towards his face, before he thinks better of it.
“Were you a beautiful young maiden, I’m sure I would fare better still.” the vampire replies, slowly. “But I always make do with what I have available.”
“Magnanimous of you.”
Warmed back up to his usual movement, or lack thereof, Jigen inclines his chin nobly.
“You don’t want me to return the favor, do you?”
Amado wisely doesn’t react.
“You already have enough control over my fate as it is. I’ll take my chances.”
Jigen’s eyes narrow at the corners. Smiling to himself.
He seems like there is something else to be said, but nothing comes. Instead, he scrutinizes Amado for a second longer, smile already fading, and then looks away distantly. The woman has entered the room again, Amado realizes belatedly.
Jigen looks through her, then out the window. His look of disinterest is so imperceptible, obvious to Amado after these years. It occurs to him he has never once seen himself on the receiving end of it.
That thought again.
“I’m sorry, what?” he says, in realization that the woman was speaking to him.
“When will you be available to pick up your order?” she repeats. “For an extra fee, we can also do delivery…”
“I’ll pick it up.” Amado says. “Four months from now.”
“Right…” her sounds scribble back into the background as she makes a few notes. Amado’s eyes find Jigen again, only to see that he is in turn being watched.
They both look away.
Amado, then confused by that, looks back, but Jigen’s back is turned.
When business has concluded, Amado is quick to leave the woman’s very warm goodbyes for the comfort of the blizzard outside. A wind has manifested itself over the duration of his impromptu shopping trip.
“Tch.” Jigen clicks his tongue at his shivering. “Perhaps you should have listened to your suitor and gotten yourself another jacket while you were in there.”
“My…” Amado furrows his brow. “I’m fine.”
“Just try and keep up.” Jigen says, sweeping in front. “We’re behind schedule, after all.”
“...right.”
Amado still pauses for a moment, buttoning his coat, as the vampire strides ahead. He is reminiscent of before, only in motion, providing something cutting and distant, just outside of the nearly dead street lights.
He seems to clear the ground smoothly and instantly, already almost to the next corner by the time Amado is finished. And yet, right before the turn, Jigen stops and stands still again.
He looks over his shoulder, just briefly, at Amado. Just a sliver of that otherworldly face bared to him.
“Are you waiting for me?” Amado says, half as intended, half not. Jigen sneers and turns his face away.
Amado still saw it.
He starts walking.