9
:: September 20, 2001 ::
:: Nagoya, Japan ::
“I thought I’d find you here, Shiro.”
It was dusk by the time he reached him, haggard from the travel, the violet- and gold-light of the evening settling quietly on his tired features. A number of fireflies bustled about, floating upwards towards the red paper lanterns and the sloped roof to the Osu Kannon temple. While the popular temple often attracted a number of tourists, it was oddly quiet that time of day - but perhaps not so odd, considering how potent the current turmoil and sorrow in the world’s most powerful nation had become.
The man who was already sitting on the steps was smiling serenely at him, slanted dark eyes made even larger by his thick corrective glasses. “There are many places in the world to look for me and yet you look here.”
A rare smile crossed the other man’s face. “Perhaps I was led here by angels.”
“You’d make an interesting Knight.”
“‘Interesting?’”
“Hai. It is the only appropriate word I can think of.”
“I’m sure there are others.”
The smile didn’t fade as he sat down next to Shiro - despite being well over a century old, the magical properties that made him a wizard had slowed down his aging considerably (although for a time, he had to pretend to look older). However, the Japanese man could perceive that his friend looked as if he hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in a very long time. “You are stressed again, old friend.”
The friendly expression became strained. “We have been busy.” The white-haired Knight nodded, as if he had expected this answer. He knew for certain that the leader of that secret group very rarely spoke of his own feelings towards their goal - the mysterious and omniscient leader who showed no weaknesses around his comrades.
Shiro found it to be a worrying problem.
The pair was silent for several minutes, listening to the peaceful sounds of Nagoya around them. Both of them knew that the warm incense-scented autumns could soon fall into nothing, although for one of them, the prospect was more personal and certain. It was only when the sun had dipped so far below the horizon that the sky was tinged deep blue that Shiro spoke. “The others are fairing well?”
“As much as can be, considering recent events.”
“You have done much.”
“Never enough,” came the quiet reply. “Perhaps we haven’t sacrificed enough - there must be more that we can do.”
Shiro placed his hands on his knees, massaging them with practiced hands. His joints did not recover from battle as quickly or efficiently as they used to, but he was still remarkably spry for his age. He did not look at his friend as he calmly replied, “‘We live at the edge of the world so we live on the edge.’”
“Some old proverb?”
“Lucy Lawless.”
The man laughed - it was something even rarer than his smiles. “Of course.”
“Will you be staying in Japan for awhile then?”
“I’m afraid not. There are some matters I need to take care with the Red Court.”
A nod. “The war?”
“Unfortunately.” He sighed. “It is hardly a coincidence that the Red Court used Harry Dresden as a pawn to instigate it. But then again, they are merely pawns themselves in the greater picture.” He looked out over the silent temple grounds, eyes dark in thought. “It is all coming together - slowly but surely. I suspect our battle is less than a decade away.”
And I will not be there to see it, Shiro thought to himself. Aloud he said, “If Chicago is ready, it will stand strong in the face of the centuries-old darkness.”
Surprisingly, the wizard did not voice his agreement. Instead, he only shook his head, rising to his feet. “There are things that still need to be done. I will see you again soon, Shiro.”
The smile that the Japanese man returned was kind, but he did not repeat the sentiments. Instead, he nodded his hand, watching as the man’s confident stride carried him off into the darkness of the Japanese night. No, he would not see him again soon - Shiro was quite sure of it, just as he had been when he had learned of his illness.
“Sayonara, old friend.”