13Doujima stretched on stiletto-heeled feet on a ballroom chair, trying to pin up the last of the New Year's decorations, with the aid of one of the maids of her family's mansion. She didn't particularly like the annual party her family threw for members of the STN (as an officer, "it was his duty to raise company morale", and to hell for one night with non-fraternization), but she suffered through. She'd much rather be in a night club somewhere, or upstairs in her room with a stack of magazines, manga, and books. She hated playing the hostess, but mama always claimed that she "needed to be seen".
She dropped lightly off the chair, taking a moment to calm herself. She didn't want anyone near her to pick up on her tension...
The doorbell rang, and she moved quickly to answer it. Her jaw dropped in shock as she admitted Amon. He had pulled his hair back in a low tail, and a silver Celtic knot dangled from his left ear, which was not freshly pierced. Most shockingly, he wore not all black, but a red silk shirt that clung to his well-built chest, yet hung elegantly loose from his arms and wrists. He was hot, sexy, and Doujima bit back the urge to ask him out.
"Thought I'd offer any last minute help," Amon volunteered, and Doujima flashed a bright smile.
"Take your hidden talents to the kitchen and help the cooks. I'll be finishing up in the dining room," She said, not at all adverse to putting this particular guest to work, no matter how socially unacceptable that normally would be. Indeed, she rather enjoyed this chance to order Amon around.
A half-smirk crossed his face. "I forgot you knew my shameful secret."
"That you're practically a gourmet? Amon the kitchen witch!" She giggled... and found herself tripping over nothing in those stilettos. Amon looked completely innocent- for him- as he passed.
The preparations with his help took half the time to complete. Amon wandered into ballroom. Karasuma, Robin, Sakaki, and Micheal arrived in a group, the team having petitioned for Micheal to have the night off as well. Doujima took one look at them and pulled her sister aside.
"Play gracious hostess for a moment. Robin needs help."
Matsu glanced and winced. "Will do," She whispered before gliding forward to meet the others as Doujima took Robin smoothly aside, murmuring things like "I should have warned you it was a bit formal; you might be able to fit something of my sister's".
Robin blushed as Doujima wondered if Robin owned anything besides the Victorian era dress. Within twenty minutes, Robin was dressed in a knee-length, off the shoulder dress that matched her eyes, a pair of low heels, loosely curled hair, mascara, and lip gloss.
The rest of the party had arrived, and the men especially were quite appreciative. Robin was blushing again as Doujima began to introduce him around.
"Our Little Bird cleans up rather well, doesn't she?" Micheal murmured to his companions with a slight smile, glancing at Amon, whose eyes had widened fractionally. Sakaki chuckled and wandered off in search of something to drink. Micheal gathered his courage and finished his thought,
"But I prefer brunettes. Would you care to dance, Karasuma?"
Micheal glanced at the clock, noting with some surprise that it was nearly midnight. He looked sideways at Karasuma as the countdown started and at the stroke of the new year, he leaned in and gently pressed his lips to hers.
"Happy New Years, Miho,"He murmured, then swiftly turned and left.
Doujima sank down onto the couch in the dark living room with a nearly silent sigh. She knew that she should still be mingling with the guests but she couldn't bring herself to move. It was after midnight, and she was tired and miserable, and she had just hurt herself in those damned heels besides.
A footstep sounded behind her, and she half turned on the couch with a polite smile glued back onto stiff lips.
"Doujima?" Sakaki asked. "Are you in here?"
"Yes. I know I should be-" She trailed off as he entered and approached the couch. Moonlight softly illuminated the room with a ghostly silver glow, and Doujima had the lingering idea that she might be dreaming, it seemed so unreal.
"It's OK. I saw you turn your ankle as you left and thought you might need some ice." He said, holding up the bucket he carried as he sat at the end of her couch and lifted the afflicted limb onto his lap. "Happy New Year's by the way, Yurika."
Doujima's heart leapt as he addressed her by her given name, but her traitorous voice broke a little as she replied,
"Happy New Year's, Haruto."
"What's wrong?" He asked, concerned, looking up at his coworker as he wrapped the ankle. Doujima bit her lip, but all of her feelings tumbled out, aided by the champagne she had been drinking all evening in an attempt to settle her nerves.
"Don't get the wrong idea, Haruto, I'm grateful for your help, but...I feel so useless. I hate socializing, so daddy decided that maybe I should follow his line of work and start at the office, but I'm no good as a hunter, either. I can't even take care of a twisted ankle, and I loathe hunting!"
Sakaki inhaled sharply as a wave of helplessness and low self-confidence washed over his own feelings of surprise and sympathy for the beautiful girl.
"You're an empathist, Yurika? I never knew..."He commented softly. She didn't reply, and he gently set down her foot and took her into his arms. "No wonder you have such a hard time, if your craft is picking up what the witch feels."
"I didn't mean to send. I should be more tightly shielded," She said softly, in a more formal tone again.
"Don't," He said, referring to her pulling back from him emotionally. "Is empathy your craft, then?"
"Yes, I'm a mind-mage. I have a personal danger sense, empathy, and potential."
"Potential for?" He asked, before remembering that it was rude to ask another hunter her craft.
She answered anyway,
"Mind healing."
"Oh, Yurika..." He breathed in horror, his arms tightening around her. He knew that all healers had a compulsion to work their craft, an inner drive to use their powers to help others. In some severe cases, the craft overwhelmed the witch, causing them to drain their own personal energy in an attempt to heal their patient. Doujima's potential would drive her into danger, forcing her to try to heal every witch she came across, dragging her into the path of insane witches who didn't care who they hurt with their crafts...
Torturing her...
"Amon drives me nuts, he's so angsty and messed up!" She joked feebly, but he could almost taste an old fear in the air around her. He understood. If a mind healer went witch...
"You don't have to worry. You're still only potential," He whispered to her, holding her even closer. She clung to him until sleep loosened her grip. Gently, he laid her back down on the couch and pulled the couch cover down around her for a blanket. He stepped back, looking at her as the moonlight kissed her pale skin and golden hair, bleaching her with the look of a heavenly being, lost on earth.
"Good night, dear queen, and flights of angels lead thee to thy rest," He whispered, corrupting Hamlet, and silently pulled the door to behind him.
Author's Note: This chapter was written two years ago, when I was getting dressed for a performance after cosplaying Robin, so I was wearing the above mentioned green dress with handlebars. My cousin (who happens to have been cosplaying Karasuma) commented that it was highly unlikely that Robin would ever get caught dead in an outfit like that, so I wrote a scenario where she would... I just decided to expand on it and add it as a chapter earlier this evening when I re-found it...
