(My eyes are heavy… I'm sorry, Misaki… I really… don't want… to be… alone… again…)
My thoughts slipped away like sand through my fingers. The cold of the yellow liquid still slithered through my veins. Misaki's face, blurry, leaned over me. Her lips moved, but the words couldn't reach me.
Finally, I fell into a dream.
"Sleep, miss… May the Heavenly Lord protect your dreams."
Osvaldo gently touched Sienna's blonde hair, brushing a stray lock from her pale forehead. His fingers, calloused yet gentle, lingered for an instant on the girl's cheek. The blood from her nose had already dried, leaving a dark trail above her lip.
"I'm afraid we'll have to stop, Misaki."
The car slowed. The taillights of other vehicles flickered at the intersection like red fireflies in the dusk of the fading evening.
"All we can do now is pray…" Osvaldo murmured, and his hands gripped the steering wheel with restrained force.
The black Mercedes came to a halt behind a line of cars. The engine barely purred, like a beast lying in wait. Through the tinted windows, Misaki watched dozens of girls walk past the vehicle. Some walked quickly, heads down. Others whispered among themselves, casting nervous glances toward something that couldn't be seen from inside the car.
"I wonder if something happened?" Misaki asked, her voice still broken from crying.
"I don't know…"
"Do you think it has something to do with the Elector?"
Osvaldo slowly shook his head.
"I don't think so… If it were the Elector, the Klaiser would have been released."
"Then—"
Knock, knock, knock.
Knuckles tapped gently on the window.
Misaki jumped. Osvaldo, however, remained calm. He lowered the glass with an electric hum.
"Excuse me."
A girl with purple hair, about fifteen years old, leaned toward the window. She wore a blue armband on her forearm —not the tuxedo of the Blue Sashes, but something more modest, like a volunteer or a cadet. Her lavender-colored eyes held an expression of genuine concern.
"We need you to wait a moment, okay?"
Osvaldo smiled. A warm, fatherly smile that revealed nothing of the tension knotting his stomach.
"Excuse me, miss… Could you tell us what's going on?"
The girl looked into the interior of the car. Her eyes stopped on Sienna, slumped in the back seat, her head resting on Misaki's lap.
"Is she… alright?"
(Genuine concern. She's not a Blue Sash. She's just a scared girl.)
"I'm afraid the young lady is a bit tired," Osvaldo replied naturally. "From what I heard, she was exercising quite a lot today…"
"Exercising?" The girl frowned. "Then why hasn't her wound healed?"
Osvaldo blinked. The girl had noticed the dried blood.
"I'm afraid she's a slow healer…"
"I see… I understand."
The girl nodded, but her expression remained inquisitive. Then, she looked up at Osvaldo.
"Sir, could I see your license?"
"Hahaha… My license, eh?" Osvaldo reached into his jacket and pulled out a plastic card. "Here you go."
The girl took the license, glanced at it for barely a second, and handed it back.
"No. Not that one… I meant the history license."
(The history license, huh? Indeed, that's how it works.)
Osvaldo fell silent for a moment. Then, from his wallet, he pulled out a second card. It was silver. It gleamed with a metallic luster under the twilight glow.
The girl's eyes widened.
"A silver license!" She gave a clumsy bow, almost tripping over her own words. "I'm so sorry for my insolence!"
"Hahaha, don't worry. It's normal."
Osvaldo put the silver license back into his wallet with the same calm with which he would put away a shopping receipt.
"So, miss… Could you tell me what's happening?"
The girl rubbed her hands nervously. Her fingers intertwined and unwove.
"Well… you see…"
Rub, rub, rub. The sound of her palms was almost inaudible, but in the silence of the car it resonated like a distant drum.
"It's… because a thirteen-year-old boy was kidnapped…"
(Kidnapped? Who would be so foolish as to do something like that?)
"Oh…" Osvaldo inclined his head. "Who would be so insolent?"
"I don't know… They deployed the entire white-and-sky-blue squadron."
(White and sky blue… That'll be an execution.)
The air inside the car grew denser. Misaki pressed the hand of Sienna —still unconscious— against her chest.
"I see…" Osvaldo murmured. "It's a shame."
"It certainly is…" The girl lowered her gaze. "Well… you can go now, if you like."
Osvaldo watched her. The girl was clearly nervous. Her fingers were still rubbing together. Her blue armband trembled slightly on her forearm. She wasn't a soldier. She was a frightened child who had seen something she shouldn't have.
He smiled one last time.
"Thank you very much, miss. I hope you have a good day."
A smile —this time genuine, bright, almost childlike— formed on the girl's lips.
"Thank you so much! Please, take care on the road!"
The car pulled away. The lights of the intersection faded behind them. Osvaldo glanced at the rearview mirror and saw Misaki gently stroking Sienna's hair. The girl's fingers slid through the blonde locks with infinite tenderness, as if she feared they might break at her touch.
"Mr. Osvaldo…" Misaki's voice was barely a thread. "Do you think it's true?"
"The boy?"
Osvaldo looked again at the rearview mirror. Misaki's golden eyes were fixed on him, searching for something —truth, comfort, certainty— that he didn't know if he could give her.
"I don't know…" he replied, and his voice was heavy. "We can only hope it's not."
(Poor kid. Thirteen years old. In this world, turning thirteen and already being chosen by the Elector… I just hope it really is a kidnapping.)
As he drove, Osvaldo couldn't help but feel a knot in his chest. Not just for the boy. For everything.
"Mr. Osvaldo…"
"Yes, Misaki?"
"Do you… do you think Sienna can grow old?"
Osvaldo lifted his gaze to the rearview mirror. Misaki's face was tilted over Sienna, but a tiny tear was sliding down her cheek.
"She said…" Misaki's voice cracked. "She said she… wanted to keep having lunch with me… until we became old ladies…"
(This… This is always hard.)
Osvaldo pulled his gaze from the mirror and fixed it on the road. The streets were empty now. Propaganda posters fluttered in the wind. The sun had almost set.
"I-I'm sure she'll fulfill that promise," he said, and his voice, though trembling, was firm. "She always tries to keep her word."
He smiled. He didn't look away from the road, but he smiled.
"We're almost home… Just one more turn to go."
The mansion appeared at the end of the tree-lined street, silhouetted against the violet sky of nightfall. The Gothic towers, the darkened stained-glass windows, the ivy climbing up the stone walls.
But there was something new.
Women.
Women dressed as nuns moved around the perimeter of the property. Their black habits billowed in the night wind. Some were stationed by the entrance gate. Others walked in pairs, hands clasped beneath their sleeves, murmuring something that couldn't quite be heard.
"Mr. Osvaldo…" Misaki straightened up. "Those people…"
"Don't worry, Misaki. I don't think they're dangerous."
Osvaldo tried not to pay them any attention. But his hands tightened on the steering wheel.
The car stopped in front of the main gate. The nuns, far from stepping aside, surrounded the entrance. There were at least a dozen of them. Their faces were hidden beneath black-and-white wimples. Their habits rustled as they moved.
Osvaldo stepped out of the vehicle. The wind struck his face —cold, heavy with the scent of incense and something else… ozone, like before a storm.
"Excuse me," he said, approaching the nearest nun. "Could you let us through to the residence?"
He didn't look her in the eyes. He only inclined his head slightly, feigning a humility he didn't feel.
The nun remained silent for a moment. Her habit rippled in the wind.
"Well… Could you give me your personal ID? We have orders not to let anyone through, except for three people."
Osvaldo took out his wallet and handed her his identification. The nun took it with pale, almost translucent hands. She examined it. Her lips moved in an inaudible murmur.
Then, she smiled.
"Well… It is indeed you. Please, go on inside. They're expecting you."
The woman walked gracefully backward, circling the car, and watched the entrance at every moment. Her eyes, hidden beneath the wimple, followed every movement of the vehicle like those of a statue that had come to life.
Osvaldo returned to the car. The gate opened with a metallic screech.
"Is everything alright, Mr. Osvaldo?" Misaki asked.
"Yes… Everything's fine."
But his knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
The black Mercedes passed through the gate and entered the mansion grounds. Behind them, the nuns closed ranks once more, as if nothing had happened.
As if they were waiting for something.
Or someone.