[ Watashi ]

[ Tomodachi ]

[ Saint Seiya ]

[ Clamp ]

[ Fanfiction ]

December sixth, Saint Nicolas' Day. I smiled to myself, leaning back against the coach seat and stifling a yawn. I wondered what the day had in store for me, if Saint Nicolas would grace me with a surprise gift....

It was an ancient tradition, and one which existed only in Belgium, North of France and a few other neighbouring regions. On Saint Nicolas' Day, children received presents from the Saint himself if they had been good; and if they had been bad, well...there was always the Whipping Father.... Until what age had I believed in this? I'd have been unable to tell. Saint Nicolas' Day was important, more so than Christmas, at least where presents and the joy of children at discovering them was concerned. Oh yes, Saint Nicolas' Day was much, much more important.

I looked at the manga that K-chan was reading beside me, and grinned, recognizing at once a volume of Rasen no Kakera. Kaimu Tachibana's art was so beautiful, and so particular there was no mistaking it. The trip to London would be long--some two hours if memory served--and everyone had brought along books or walkmen, in order to pass the time. Now if only we'd been able to request a small favour from the mischievous being who spent her time galloping at a crazy, impossible speed in the vast green fields beside the highway our coach was driving on, and every so often giving wild kicks like a six months-old filly, we'd have arrived at our destination in the blink of an eye....

"Ariane, look...." Roused out of my reverie by K-chan's quiet whisper, I followed the direction her fingers was pointing to, and saw both Doug and Serge sleeping like innocent children in their seats. Doug had his walkman on, and I fleetingly wondered how you could sleep with music resounding in your ears. K-chan and I looked at each other, and she smiled. "Aren't they adorably cute?"

I chuckled softly, nodding agreement. "Oh yes, they certainly are." Nobody would ever have thought those two young men who slept with such a perfect look of peace and innocence on their faces belonged to a group such as BAIT.

Or perhaps....

Discarding the thought, I looked back with K-chan at Tim and Kyri, and we silently showed them the two sleeping young men on the other side of the alley. They grinned, agreeing this was a pleasing spectacle, and then went back to their previous conversation. The Vice-President had decided to accompany us at the last minute, going with us to London instead of spending the day working for his revision, claiming he'd be able to finish everything at the price of a mere allnighter. A mere allnighter.... I watched them for a while, finding myself forced to admire the Vice-President's persistence in trying to capture the President's undivided attention.

Now if this wasn't courtship, then it sure looked the part!

I laughed silently, remembering this was BAIT, and things were never quite what they seemed where its members were concerned. But still, Kyri *was* the President, and an object of worship for many who came into contact with him, be it for his looks, his wits, or the obvious power that he wielded. So flirting with him and earning his attention was nothing more than insuring one's position in his social circle. Of course, I was quite sure it was also an amusing pastime for the both of them.

Motives within motives within motives....

BAIT's life was so complicated...and so fascinating, even for the outside observer that I was.

At last, we reached our destination and happily stepped down from the coach. The weather was still cold, but fortunately it looked like it wouldn't rain.

Watching the people we passed along while going to the ex-Yahoan complex was fun: today there was a LAC meeting, and I could tell simply by looking at them, that many of the passers-by were anime fans whom we were likely to meet again once we got around to the London Anime Club meeting itself. I was looking forward to find out what it was like, what people did during such meetings, what activities or lack thereof would take place. There was nothing like it in Belgium, or at least nothing that I knew of, no gathering which was open to every fan like this.

As usual, we stopped by the furihonya, and everybody started searching the shelves most thoroughly. Shoujo manga were sold here at ridiculous prices, a real bargain, and if one happened to stumble upon what one was looking for.... I spotted the complete collection of Saint Seiya up a shelf, all twenty-eight volumes, and smiled wistfully. It was most likely they'd rot in this store until someone eventually threw them away as garbage which couldn't make money anymore. Saint Seiya was old now, a more than ten years old series, and people weren't interested in the old, no matter how good it might have been; people wanted the newest, what was in fashion *now*, with a narrowness of vision that I found disappointing.

That Saint Seiya was a series which gathered in its story a unique mix of powerful elements which couldn't help but move the heart and the soul, make a smile appear on a face which thought it didn't know how to anymore, that it was a series which had managed the miracle to force so many people like me, who had been eighteen when it had been aired, to hold up their heads and keep fighting to reach their unattainable goal, discarding terribly painful failures...no, that didn't matter to people who hadn't known it and seen it...who hadn't *experienced* it.

Perhaps it wouldn't have mattered to me so much if I hadn't been eighteen and at grips with something which had then felt like a bottomless abyss opening under my feet.... I had thought my reaction to the series a weird one, but as I had started meeting other people who talked about their experiences, I had been happy and surprised to discover that many, many teenagers of the time had been also supported, uplifted through lonely and bitter struggles thanks to the Bronze Saints.

Characters who failed, but for whom failure wasn't shameful or dishonorable....

Characters who hurt and doubted....

I shook my head, freeing myself from the memories that always came back whenever I chanced upon the series in a store. Suddenly, I saw Tim reaching out for a manga on one of the lower shelves, and exclaimed, "What are you doing?!" He grinned at me, holding out the manga before my eyes.

Saint Seiya.

"Well, I have to give it a try, since obachan is soooooo much gaga over the series." But...but he'd told me it was ugly, and besides....

I pointed towards the book. "But this is the manga, and its art is...special at best...."

He shrugged. "Yes, I know, so you told me. But since you are so adamant the story is wonderful, well I'm willing to read it, as long as I can find volumes in a furihonya and spend the minimum of money on it."

I stared at him numbly, astounded. So all that he had said about finding it ugly or not interesting was truly nothing more than silly jokes to tease me and.... I smiled, feeling happy and thinking:

Thank you, Tim.

For giving this a chance.

For....

It mattered to me that my friends understood and knew what was important to me, and the gods knew that Saint Seiya was important. That the Vice-President was willing to give a try at something he wasn't particularily inclined to read was a gesture of friendship I wouldn't soon forget.

After we left the furihonya, we hurried to the Asahiya Bookstore, but there weren't many new things since our last visit on Friday. Still, somehow, Tim managed to spend a lot of time hovering between shelves, double and triple-checking to make sure he wasn't missing anything. I had to admit that this bookstore featured quite a big manga section, and it would have been easy to fail to notice they actually had a new or previously unnoticed interesting manga in stock. I walked along the magazines alley, and felt relieved I didn't know Japanese and so was unable to read those. Had I been able to, I'd have spent a fortune getting submissions, and my room would have been filled to capacity in only a few months.

I thoughtfully reached out and took the latest volume of Card Captor Sakura by Clamp, looked at the cover, and then shook my head. Nope, I wasn't buying it, no way.

"Don't tell me you're not getting it, Ariane." I looked at K-chan, who was grinning widely at me, and then I shrugged goodhumoredly.

"Well, I'm not buying it, no. You see, I've stopped after volume three, because I don't care for the characters or the story, I just like Yukito and Touya, and that's no sufficient reason to buy a series." I had enough manga at home, and too little space to place them in. I had to be selective in what I was getting. I didn't like that, but I didn't have much choice.

K-chan clapped her hands. "Oh, so you stopped at volume three! But then you have *no* idea of how things develop and how poor Touya is confronted with an interesting problem concerning Yukito...." She left her words hanging in the air before taking the book from my hands and flipping through its pages, whispering, "You see, there is another side to Yukito, a person much, much different from what you know--ah!" She showed me a page with a very, very wide grin on her face. "Look, and tell me what you think!"

The page had but a single illustration on it, without any text which could have spoiled the beauty of the picture. I stared at it in mute surprise, and thought that if I were an anime character I'd be picking my jaw off the floor right now. The picture was one of Yukito or, to be exact, of the other aspect of him, and....

Oh *gods*!

"So, are you still sure you're not buying this manga, Ariane?"

I looked at K-chan's contented smile, and said, "Meooooow!" This was too cruel, what was one supposed to do when tempted like this? I really couldn't buy it, I had decided I had other priorities, and.... I absentmindedly turned the pages, and saw pictures of Sakura herself in her gods know how many different costumes and Tomoyo following her around, I saw all those little kids, and closed the book, relieved. I set the manga back in place, and told K-chan: "I'm tempted, you have no idea how much I'm tempted, but no. I *don't* like the main characters of this, I really, really have no affinity towards Sakura or Tomoyo, so I'm not buying it. Now if Yukito and Touya were the main characters...."

I couldn't identify myself with elementary school kids, no way. There was just...nothing that attracted me to kids. What I was looking for in a manga, where the characters were concerned, were characters with whom I could feel a kinship, with whom I could identify myself, if only a little, so I could be moved by what they experienced. And genki-genki little girls or porcelain-like, delicate little girls with unlimited wealth and a fascination for fashion did not fit my requirements, by far. "It's your loss...."

I stared back at K-chan, and said with the most innocent smile, "But you'll tell me what happens to Touya and Yukito, won't you?"

She laughed at that, and said, "Okay, okay."

We eventually left Asahiya, and walked over to the food section of the complex, so we could have some nice lunch. Now, was I hungry enough for one of those huge ramen bowls?

I stopped in front of the classical style building, and thought: . The London Anime Club meetings were held near Baker Street, in what was definitely a *nice* and classy quarter. The buildings were all in the classical style, and their facades were, without exception, impeccably clean. The park on the other side of the street was also impressive, a huge green space, full of beautiful trees and cleanly cut lawn. There was no mistaking one was in England, one couldn't find such beautiful places in poor old Belgium. I quickly read the small plate beside the door handle, and whistled silently. So this anime club could use official buildings to hold its meetings, very impressive.

The inside was as classy as the outside had been, not that I minded, on the contrary. "Okay, I'm going upstairs, to get in the line for the library."

We nodded at Tim, and Serge and Kristin said, "We're going to check what they're showing, we'll be in one of the projection rooms." They both followed Tim up the stairs, and then the President turned towards me and Douglas, smiling.

"Otaku will be downstairs, shall we go have a look?" I nodded eagerly, and we quickly stepped down.

The room was a small one, but it was filled with wonders. My first impression was that I had stepped into a miniature version of one of the Paris anime stores. I started wandering aimlessly, letting my gaze slide over all the items presented here.

The Black Unicorn whinnied softly. She looked at the huge park below, at the cleanly cut grass and her ears twitched. She was tempted. Oh yes, she was more than tempted to have some fun, to gallop at full speed on the appetizing lawn and scatter the birds.... But she couldn't. Although mortals could not see her if she chose not to reveal herself, still her tracks would be noticed if she allowed herself to indulge in a bit of harmless fun.

And countless forked hooves tracks all across one of those neat English parks would cause quite a stir. Shaking her head, the Black Unicorn unfolded her beautiful black wings, and flew away from the park, thinking human beings were really spoilsports.

She delicately landed on the roof of the building Ariane and her friends had entered a little while ago, and wished they'd hurry. Since she couldn't do anything but wait, she'd as much the waiting was as short as possible. Of course, there were a few pranks she could have played. There were interesting places, all around London, and items supposedly impossible to reach or steal. Like the Jewels of the Crown, for instance.... The Black Unicorn showed her teeth in yet another failed attempt at a grin, imagining the expression on the faces of the people guarding those treasures upon finding them gone, without the slightest trace of a thief.

Now, that would have been *fun*.

But she could hardly do that, and besides it would have been far too easy. Anything was possible for her; if she chose to do something, then the thing got done, there was no suspense, no uncertainty, nothing.

No gamble worth the name.

So many things, what was I going to get for myself? It was always the same whenever I stepped into an anime store I didn't know, I couldn't stay focused on a goal, I scattered my attention between all the items on display, at the risk of missing something important.

"Ariane, you might find this interesting." I turned towards Kyri, and saw him holding out to me what looked like a tape, or rather a tape in a plastic box, with a booklet and a CD single....

The Wish Gift Box!

I clapped my hands, and took the offered package from the President's hand, grinning like a fool. I bowed to him and said, ecstatic, "This is great, thanks a million, I never hoped to find it!" He nodded, and I showed it to Doug, adding, "See, now Tim won't be able to make us envious of him anymore, this is great!" I laughed, happy. It was true that the Vice-President had had more than a bit of fun at both Douglas and my expense showing us the Wish Gift Box, saying he didn't care about Wish in the slightest, but that he was keeping it anyway. Suddenly, I remembered I wasn't the only person existing in the world, and discarded selfishness. Embarrassed, I asked Doug, "But you're after this as well, so...do you want it, or is it all right if I get it?"

Doug smiled gently, shaking his head, "Take it, Ariane, it's not a problem. And besides, it's a bit expensive for my current budget, so...."

I bowed, thanking him, and then turned back towards Kyri. I grinned at him, "I owe you for this, Mr. President. You have my eternal gratitude for finding this; in fact," I smiled mischievously, "this is one of the items I'd have given my soul for, along with the Saint Seiya cells." I was really lucky Kyri had remembered I was looking for the Wish Gift Box, in fact, I had no idea how he knew about that. It was likely either Tim or Doug had told him, but that he had remembered, and bothered to take it for me....

Well, there was more to the President of BAIT than I had thought, he had once more managed to astonish me. Surprises like that were fun. Suddenly, I realized Kyri was staring at me steadily. He smiled, and then said softly, "I shall remember your words."

"I shall remember your words."

The soft whisper reached the Black Unicorn's sensitive ears, and she snorted. Ariane liked games a bit too much, and she took risks she wasn't always fully aware of, but then she could hardly blame the girl. The mythical being understood the urge to play and have fun, to challenge or be challenged. It was one of the rare things which made the blood tingle, and made you feel that you were truly alive. And besides, it was not like this was any danger at all. For a few seconds, the Black Unicorn considered prancing on the roof, just for the fun of listening to the echoes of her hooves striking the stone, and also to see how the building's occupants would react, but as usual she discarded the impulse.

She swished her long tail, wishing the President would go ahead and try. Why, yes, let him try and claim his due.... She yawned, bored. Even if he tried, it wouldn't be of much interest, she knew the outcome of that, and how quickly it would be over.

As she had thought on many occasions before, there was no true challenge left in this modern world.

No, there was none.

We found Tim still waiting in the line for the library, and then went down to the projection rooms, looking for K-chan and Serge. We found them watching some Gundam Wing, and joined them.

I wasn't one for mecha shows, so I had never tried to watch anything of Gundam, but this seemed to be interesting, there were complex characters behind the machines, and their interactions were important. I found myself drawn to the show, and trying to grasp what was going on, even though this was episode twenty-two and I had never seen anything else before. Then, came the ending theme and the opening theme of episode twenty-three, and I watched in awe, speechless.

The song was called "Just Communications". I tended to dislike most recent and fashionable songs, but this.... This was just fantastic! The rhythm, the images, all the components merged perfectly to yield a formidable result. I sat back, admiring the almost fearsome efficiency of the whole, and inwardly thought I had to see the whole of Gundam Wing.

Definitely.

Once the showing was over, we all rejoined Tim, who had been able to retrieve the tapes he wished from the library. I looked around, and once more admired the system this anime club had set in motion. They had a library of tapes they lent to fans who actually were trustworthy and returned them, and moreover through them you could get in direct contact with fansubbing groups and get stuff you had wanted to see for so long and had always believed impossible to get. Since the moment all UK fansubbing groups and distributors had closed their web sites, fansubs had become simply impossible to get in Belgium, and in France there was nothing like a subbing group which agreed to distribute its tapes. In short, I had been stuck, completely, because I didn't live in the UK and so didn't know fansubbers personally, fansubbers who'd have known they could trust me not to file a lawsuit for violation of godsrotted stupid moronic copyright.

If only clubs and groups like that had existed in Belgium....

Wishful thinking.

If you want one, then create one.

Yeah, sure, and how the hell was one supposed to do that, with what material, which translators, and most of all what time? I silenced the mocking voice in my head, and asked the group, "Once we leave here, could we just go by a HMV store? I'd like to see if they don't have the B5 Season Four Box Set in London." They checked the time, nodded their agreement and we all stood up, leaving the place of wonders which held the monthly gathering of the London Anime Club behind.

Ah, they were coming out.

At last.

The Black Unicorn stood, trying to ignore the cold seeping into her bones. They were done, which was a good thing. She wanted to move from this roof, she wanted to gallop in the green fields like she had in the morning. Galloping under the stars....

The wind rose, strong, and she shivered. She'd stayed here long enough. She spread her great wings, discarding the disagreeable sensation of the wind slapping them relentlessly, and gracefully took flight in the weak light of the falling night.

"Hey, Kyri, coming?" He smiled at Tim, nodding, and then looked up towards the darkening sky. It had been another interesting day. Ariane had reacted as he had predicted when he had handed her the Wish Gift Box, unable to deny the playful child imprisoned inside her. Oh, he had no doubt that she was perfectly aware of what she was saying, which was part of the interest. There had to be more to her apparent uncaring of her words' consequences than he could see.

Certainly, or he'd have been completely mistaken in his judgment of the opposition, which would have been embarrassing, as well as highly unlikely.

He shivered under the icy cold wind, and focused on the night sky above him. Perhaps her confidence stemmed from the presence of a powerful ally at her side. Yes, that had to be it. Whimsical though this ally was, as its nature dictated, still it would intervene to prevent harm, so closely it was tied to her. And *that* was the weakness which would cause their fall, because he expected, no, he depended on this intervention, once the time came.

He held out his hand, carefully catching a small and fragile thing that the wind had carried down to him, and smiled.

The magnificent feather resting in the palm of his hand was black, utterly black. So beautiful and soft it couldn't have come from a bird. Oh no, it wasn't a bird's wing which had shed such a delicate feather.

No.... Not a bird.

Remembering that the others were bound to be waiting for him at the corner of the street, he tore himself from the contemplation of the night, and walked towards them. There was nothing more to be glimpsed in London's sky. All that was left to do was stopping at Picadilly before going back to Cambridge, and there...wait.

When the time came, he would allow the trap's jaws to close around the scene, and then the prize would be his. He gently closed his fingers on the beautiful black feather, imprisoning it.

The prize would be his, as simply and easily as this.

K-chan and I looked at each other, smiling helplessly as we couldn't help overhearing Tim and Kyri giggling over some of the more unsavoury manga both President and Vice-President had bought on this day. The two were commenting with an enthusiasm that was worse than a fifteen years old's. At some point, Tim even went so far as to ask me whether I knew U-Jin. To which I replied that yes, I knew who that was and what he drew. To that, he proudly replied, in the same time as the President, that U-Jin was nothing compared to what they were drooling over at the moment, and that what was so fun was the sheer physical and anatomical impossibility of the scenes.

K-chan and I sweatdropped, and wisely decided to leave the little boys alone so they could have their fun, getting back to reading or talking of this and that. Night had fallen, and it had been a rather long day. More or less everyone was feeling a bit drowsy. Well, everyone but the over-enthusiastic Tim and Kyri that was....

Silence had settled over the coach. I yawned, wishing I could sleep in coaches, and started as K-chan's hand lightly patted my shoulder. "Ariane, look". I complied, and saw that on the two seats behind ours, both President and Vice-President had fallen asleep like babies, their less than politically correct manga on their lap.

We watched them in silence for a while, and then chuckled softly. The sight was such a cute and funny one that it was absolutely irresistible.

Innocence, asleep with sin on its lap....

Time passed, and suddenly the coach stopped, parking itself on the side of the highway. That roused Tim and Kyri, who asked what was happening. We told them we had no idea, when the driver announced that the coach was out of order, and that we'd have to wait here for a replacement. Tim shook his head. "Hey, that won't do, I can't stay stuck here, I have to get back to Cambridge, I have work to do for my supervision." We argued with him that there was little he could do about the situation, to which he replied, "Of course I can do something. We're almost there, if I step down from the coach and start walking, I'll have reached Cambridge before a replacement coach arrives and you eventually get there!"

The Black Unicorn briskly pranced in the green field beside the coach, trying in vain to discard the cold.

Damn stupid unreliable human-made mechanics. And she could do nothing about the whole idiotic incident, but wait. She snorted, shaking her head wildly in frustration. Picking up pieces of conversations, she froze as she heard of the Vice-President's last idea.

To walk all the way to Cambridge.... If the Black Unicorn had been able to sweatdrop, she would have. Fortunately, the others managed to convince Tim to wait at least half an hour before doing anything rash.

Pfeh, that would have been foolishness, pure and simple.

Half an hour.... The Black Unicorn waited, no less impatient or bored than those in the coach--they at least weren't cold like her. At last, another coach came to park beside the first one, and the Black Unicorn threw herself forward, galloping in the vast fields of grass with all her fantastic speed, eager to be back in the familiar, ancient buildings of Cambridge. She'd have to somehow find a sheltered place so she could do a bit of grooming tonight. Her feathers had been all ruffled by the cold wind, it might even have stolen one or two from her....

End of Day Three.

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