Race of the Thousand Spires by Kihin Ranno

He doesn’t know who she is, but he knows enough to be afraid.

Yori had gone to Prague specifically to prove to his friends and family that he could handle living on his own. He was nineteen, but he looked much younger and no matter how capable he thought he was, they still treated him like a child. So he had signed up for a research project to study how English was taught to Czech businessmen to see how it could be utilized in the Japanese school system. His parents hadn’t been happy about it and his friends hadn’t been sure about letting him go off on his own. But in the end, there was little they could do to stop him.

He was walking out of an office building after observing a lesson when he saw her. She was weaving through the crowd, blue hair peaking out from under a white knit cap. But what attracted his attention was the fact that she was wearing flat shoes. Yori had been in Prague for almost a month, and this was the first pretty girl he had seen smart enough not to wear heels in the cobblestone streets.

She scared him.

He wrapped his scarf around his neck, ducking his chin to hide half of his face. He felt like a fugitive, and it made his stomach turn. He turned on his heel and walked in the opposite direction to his tram stop.

After he turned two corners and he still didn’t feel safe, he dared a look over his shoulder. She was following him. His mouth dried up like spilt water in the summer sun, aware that his mother would cluck her tongue at him and tell him he was just being paranoid.

“It’s not paranoia if they’re out to get you,” he muttered in remembrance, though he didn’t know where he had heard that.

Finally, the tram loomed ahead. He increased his pace, knowing that it would look perfectly normal for him to pick up his speed in case it left without him. The warning bell started to ring, and he nearly ran to get on in time.

“Wait!”

He froze. The voice wasn’t familiar, but the accent was. Whoever she was, she was Japanese, and knowing that only gave him more cause to worry.

He was really too far away to jump on the tram, but he did it anyway. He caught on to the side and swung himself up, slipping through the doors just before they closed. He breathed a sigh of relief, ignoring the disapproving and inquisitive looks of the older passengers on the train.

“Ježíš,” someone muttered.

Yori wouldn’t have glared at the speaker even if he could have been bothered, but either way, he was too busy looking outside. It was ridiculous, but he couldn’t help but fret that she had somehow made it on to the tram even though she had been at least five steps behind him.

At first, he didn’t see her, and he started to panic, but then he saw her blue head bob above the crowd. She was standing on tiptoe to see into the tram. He was standing right in front of the window.

He ducked, crouching down on the bottom of the car. This resulted in even more looks, but it was tolerated only because there was enough room for him to huddle like that. He wrapped his arms around his knees, breathing hard and sweating enough to make his argyle scarf uncomfortably damp.

“Who was that?” he murmured to no one in particular.

“Ježíš!” a younger voice crowed, causing the whole car to erupt into laughter.

Normally, Yori would have joined in on the joke or flushed in embarrassment, but this time he just stayed where he was, pale as a ghost, wondering if that’s what she had been.

-----

Ami sighed as she entered her hotel room, taking off her shoes out of habit as she shut the door behind her. She took off her coat – much lighter than most seen during Europe’s harsh winter – and her haphazardly constructed hat that had been a bon voyage present from Usagi. Then she wandered over to the red and white striped love seat, fell down upon it so her legs hung over the side, and sighed again.

“Who was that?” she asked aloud, tipping her head back to look at the paneled ceiling.

Of course, the real question was why she had been so compelled to follow him. It wasn’t normal for her or any sane person to chase down perfect strangers in foreign cities. She could have used the excuse that she thought he was a threat, but that wasn’t entirely true. She had gotten no overtly bad feelings from him. Then again, she hadn’t gotten any good feelings from him either. In fact, all she could say definitively was that when she had caught sight of him, her feet had turned to trail him without her being wholly aware of it. But that really wasn’t a reason. No professor would have accepted that answer if this were a test.

Ami frowned again, once more reminded of why she was in Prague to begin with. A new university term had been about to begin, when Ami had suddenly realized she was tired. She would always love learning and school and her future profession, but it didn’t change the fact that she had been studying all her life. Minako had run off to France for an adventure, and while the experience hadn’t been a joyful one, Ami had still been jealous. Minako had done something. And she had learned a great deal about herself by simply breaking out of her routine.

Ami had wanted to know what that was like. So she had withdrawn from her classes and then informed her mother about it, saying that she would take a semester off and then apply to complete her degree elsewhere considering it was unlikely her university would readmit her. Dr. Mizuno hadn’t been thrilled, and Ami’s friends had been devastated. Still, there was no stopping her once she had put her mind to it.

The plan was to do a small tour of Central Europe. She began in Vienna for a week, then Prague for a few days, and she would end by going through Dresden, Berlin, and several smaller cities in between before venturing out of Germany. She was due to check out of her hotel in the morning and catch a train to Dresden.

But that was before Ami had seen that strange man on the street.

She shook her head, scoffing at herself. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she scolded as she swung her legs around, preparing to get to her feet. “I can’t cancel my plans because of him. It’s… ludicrous.”

She walked along the wooden floor of her hotel room onto the carpet. She picked up her small suitcase from beside her nightstand and swung it on to the oversized bed. She opened it swiftly and turned to walk over to the dresser.

Then she stopped.

Ludicrous as it was, Ami didn’t know if she could leave Prague without figuring out who that man had been. There had to be a reason for why he concerned her so much. She didn’t know if it had anything to do with her being a Senshi, but on the chance that it did, she couldn’t ignore how her stomach tightened every time she saw his eyes peeking out above his scarf, covering his face like a mask.

She shook her head and reached for the phone, dialing down to the desk. It rang twice.

“Hello, Ms. Mizuno. How may I be of service?” the receptionist asked in perfect, if heavily accented English.

“Yes, I was wondering if I could possibly extend my stay for a few days.”

“You’re lucky, Ms. Mizuno. You have arrived before the tourist season begins. In March, this would not be possible. But in January? Very possible. Your room is not reserved for another… three weeks.”

Ami smiled. “Put me down for three more days.”

“Of course, Ms. Mizuno. Have a pleasant afternoon.”

Ami put the phone back into its cradle and sighed for a third time. “I had better not regret this.”

-----

“So she just chased you down the street? Didn’t anyone notice?”

Yori rolled his eyes. “No, Daisuke-kun. She didn’t chase me.”

“But she followed you?”

“Yes, she did.”

“Isn’t that really the same thing as chasing you?”

Yori closed his eyes. “Daisuke-kun, she wasn’t running--"

“You said you ran away from her.”

“No, I said I ran to catch the tram.”

Daisuke chuckled. “Oh, sure you did.”

Yori’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Why couldn’t any of the others had been home? Ryu would have teased him, but at least he would have been helpful eventually. Of course, Takehiko would have been the best one to talk to, but it was almost impossible to reach him on the landline.

“Why the heck were you running away from her anyway?” Daisuke asked, grunting a bit. He was probably hanging upside down from the chair, a worrisome phone habit of his. “Was she ugly?”

Yori desperately wished Ryu was there so he could slap Daisuke upside the head. “No, she wasn’t. She was… quite pretty actually.” He felt a blush creep over the back of his neck, embarrassed to admit that he had noticed amidst the rest of his panic.

“You’re blushing aren’t you?”

“I am not!”

“Liar.”

“I am not--"

“You are a lying Liar McLiarface.”

“Well, you’re an idiot!” Yori snapped, coming to a stop in the street and glaring directly ahead of him.

Daisuke didn’t say anything for a minute before huffing indignantly. “Just for that, I’m giving you to Takehiko-kun.”

Yori’s eyebrow twitched. “You mean… he’s been there the whole time?”

“Yup, his class got canceled, and he’s taking the time to study.” Daisuke paused and then called out, “Takehiko-kun! Yori-kun’s on the phone!”

“Baka Daisuke,” Yori muttered crossly.

He could hear sound of the phone being passed on and then Takehiko’s instantly calming voice came on the line. “Yori-kun. How’s Prague?”

“I need you to hit Daisuke-kun as soon as you hang up the phone.”

Yori could tell that Takehiko was arching an eyebrow at the sound of his voice. “I’m sure whatever Daisuke-kun has done can wait to be punished when you come home.”

“But I’ll feel so much better,” he insisted, almost whining.

“I am not going to hit Daisuke-kun,” Takehiko said with a kind of finality that would prevent Yori from bringing it up again. “Now, what are you calling about?”

Not wanting to beat around the bush, Yori told him without preamble. When he was finished, he knew Takehiko frowned right along with him.

“Yori-kun, when you saw her… did you just feel unsettled or--"

“No, I was afraid,” Yori said, seeing no reason to hide the truth for the sake of pride. “It wasn’t just a bad feeling; it was fear. Don’t tell Daisuke-kun, but if it wouldn’t have looked odd, I would have run.”

“You were right not to,” Takehiko responded seriously. “And you said she had blue hair?”

Yori narrowed his eyes. “Yes, why?”

“I just thought that if you knew her, you’d remember her. Blue hair is a fairly unique characteristic,” Takehiko explained.

Yori felt unsure of the rationale, but he could hardly deny the truth of it. He nodded slowly. “I really don’t think I’ve seen her before. But I must have if she gives me the chills just by catching a glimpse of her.”

“The chills?” Takehiko repeated.

Yori paused. “It’s just an expression.”

“Interesting choice.”

Yori had absolutely no idea what Takehiko was talking about, and he was about to point this out, when he saw her. Again.

“Shit!” he hissed, ducking his head.

“What is it?” Takehiko asked, concerned without being panicked, which was helpful.

Yori looked up to be certain. Yes, it was the same girl. Blue hair and flat shoes walking towards him. She hadn’t seen him yet; maybe she never would, but he couldn’t take that chance.

“It’s her,” he whispered, looking around quickly. He had wandered into an area populated by tiny shops he barely had room to turn around in much less hide in. He’d have to hope that he lost her in the crowd.

“Are you sure?” Takehiko asked, sounding tense.

Yori nodded sharply as he turned. “Positive.”

“What are you doing?” Takehiko asked.

“What else?” Yori responded, his voice ripe wit bitter humor. “Running.”

-----

“He really just takes off running when he sees you?” Minako asked, disbelieving.

Ami sighed, nodding. She had just spotted that same man again and tried to catch up with him, but he’d managed to vanish into the crowd. Normally, people were not so good at evading her. It infuriated her to have found someone who was her match in that regard.

“How weird!” Minako exclaimed.

“That’s putting it mildly,” Ami agreed.

“I mean you’d think that he’d stick around since he’s so obviously in love with you.”

Ami choked, her head and shoulders drooping. She stood there twitching for a moment, wondering why she hadn’t seen that coming. “Minako-chan…”

“Well, why else would he be acting so suspiciously?” Minako questioned, speaking though her theory was the only one with any validity.

Ami sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Have you considered the possibility that he could be a threat?”

“Of course not,” Minako said, snorting a bit. “He’s in Prague, not Tokyo.”

Ami’s back went rigid with tension. “Yes, I know that, Minako-chan, but it’s possible that--"

“Ami-chan, if he were really evil, you wouldn’t have to call one of us and verify it,” Minako pointed out. “You’d call us to come help you fight him. You wouldn’t be so uncertain.”

Ami stopped, blinking. She hadn’t been expecting Minako to take a turn for the serious after treating her problems so flippantly. Then again, considering this was Minako, and as well as Ami knew her, she was quite unpredictable. “I… suppose you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” Minako agreed. “However, this does not change the fact that you are trying to go after a strange man who runs away from you every time he sees you. That’s just…”

“Weird,” Ami finished sadly. “I know.”

“He has to be important,” Minako surmised. “We just don’t know how.”

Ami nodded. “Yes,” she said, staring out into the crowed where he had disappeared, his blond curls vanishing into the shadows of the pedestrians.

“You’ll call if you find anything out?” Minako asked.

“I will,” Ami said, a smile creeping on to her lips. “Thanks, Minako-chan.”

“Go get your man, Ami-chan!”

Ami didn’t bother to respond to that. She merely closed her cell phone, once again looking out into the crowd as if she could divine some clue from their faces. Had one of them seen him? Did any of them know who he was? Did they know his secrets, did they know why he ran, or was he as much a mystery to them as he was to her?

“I know you,” she said with certainty. “I just don’t know how. Why won’t you tell me?”

-----

She continued to terrify him.

He started having nightmares about her, ones where he was not able to outrun her. It was the same every time. From some contrivance or misfortune, he could not escape her, and she ran up beside him. Her fingers closed around his arm, but before either of them can do anything, he dropped dead. He did not know if she had done something or if the shock of being touched by his worst fear killed him. Either way, he always woke up dead.

He slept much less now.

Eventually, Yori took to carrying around fish scales in his wallet, an old Czech custom to bring the carrier luck. They were from the Christmas carp of some friends at the pub, ones he managed to win in a game of drunken darts. He kept them with him at all times, hoping that it would bring him enough luck to keep that strange girl away from him.

It didn’t keep her from finding him, but it kept her from catching him. It was enough.

-----

Ami went to the cemetery in the Jewish quarter to clear her head.

It was always quiet there. Even the most obnoxious of tourists had the presence of mind to walk around in respectful silence for the 100,000 souls buried there, some twelve layers down. She always went there when she needed to think.

She inhaled the scent of ancient stone and peaceful death, wondering why she was still there. She should have left weeks ago, but she didn’t. She chose to remain, chasing a man who she didn’t know, but there was something about him that attracted her in a way that put her ill at ease. He should have been forgotten, but she didn’t know enough about him to remember him in the first place.

Ami hated him for making her this way, longing for something dangerous.

Then she saw him across the graveyard, pale and staring, and she was gripped by the possibility that she was being haunted. She didn’t think he was dead. Ghosts were not the only ones who could dog the guilty like shadows from the past.

She shivered, almost let him go, and then took off after him at a run.

-----

He started to think of it like a game. It was the only thing keeping him sane. Now when he described the scenario to his friends, he said it was like a cat and mouse. Daisuke was amused, Ryu called him a cliché, and Takehiko asked him who the cat was.

Yori hadn’t been able to answer.

In spite of that, he continued to treat it as though it were fun. He started frequenting areas she had seen him in before, wondering if she did the same. Sometimes she spotted him; sometimes she didn’t. Sometimes she wasn’t even there to find him. But he always smiled when she locked eyes with him, watching as her face slipped from apathy to shock to determination and ultimately, to disappointment.

He told himself that it was a game. It was the only thing keeping him sane.

-----

She didn’t know how much more she could take.

At first, finding him was a desire, something she wanted to do. But eventually the want became need and the desire became obsession. He was in her thoughts at every moment, even making appearances in dreams he was not meant to be in. She saw him at beaches, in forests, dancing at ancient balls, and running from an unknown enemy. And he was always always always just out of reach.

She started losing sleep and skipping meals just to try to find him. She grew thinner, paler, and more desperate. She called her friends back home crying, and even if they soothed her for a moment, she knew that they could fix nothing. As soon as she hung up the phone, she would tremble and the tears would come once more.

Finally, Usagi told her to come home.

-----

Eventually, he couldn’t fool himself into thinking it was fun. He couldn’t ignore the way his palms would start to sweat and how much the shadows began to appeal to him. This was no game. This was of grave importance.

When he ran from her, he wasn’t goading her. He ran for his life.

He confided this to Takehiko, saying that it felt like he had done this before. Then he talked about how when she looked at him, it felt like he was being run through with a blade made of ice, freezing his blood before it began to spill out of his body.

That’s when Takehiko ordered him home, and Yori felt nothing but relief.

-----

Ami had never been late for a plane in her life, but she supposed there had to be a first time for everything. She had rushed through checking in, ran to her terminal and had just barely made it to the gate in time. The gate agent, though courteous, gave her a strained smile.

“Just in time,” he said, tearing the ticket. “We were giving up on you.”

“I’m sorry,” Ami apologized desperately, bowing low at the waist. She ignored his raised eyebrow and then ran the rest of the way to the plane, squeezing past the stewardess with all of the faux cheeriness that made Ami grateful for her career choice.

Glancing at her ticket, Ami began take the long of walk of same down the aisles, struggling to keep her carry-on luggage from banging anyone in the head. Finally she reached her seat and saw that she was sharing it with just one other passenger. Seeing his nose already buried in a book, she sighed in relief. On her trip to Vienna, she’d had the great misfortune of being next to a lush who had insisted on telling her every ten minutes that she had fantastic legs. It had not been pleasant.

Ami opened the overhead bin and then began to shove her larger bag up above. It turned out to be a bit more complicated than she’d imagined. It would fit, but it was going to take some shoving, and her upper body strength had never been exceptional, even when she was fighting monsters regularly. She grunted, standing on tiptoe to attempt to finish stowing her things.

She heard the familiar sound of a book snapping closed and a seatbelt unbuckling. In an instant, she felt the weight of the bag lessen significantly and caught sight of a pair of white hands with long, graceful fingers gripping the luggage. “Let me help,” he said to her in Japanese, and her heart leapt.

“Arigato!” she said overenthusiastically. Together, they managed to rearrange the bags so that everything would fit, and then Ami shut the bin closed with a satisfactory click. She looked down so that she could thank the passenger once again.

And then she actually saw him. His face was pale as parchment paper, the white flesh broken only by a pair of light green eyes. They sparkled at her in shock and alarm, twin peridots. His lips were slightly bee-stung, fuller than she saw on most men. He was taller than her, but he did not tower over her, and frankly, he looked as though they would be able to wear the same size clothes if he so desired. His long blond hair hung around his head in a mass of frizzy, curly ringlets. He had it tied in a ponytail that reached the middle of his back.

“You,” she breathed, knowing him in an instant. She covered her mouth with her hand to hide her gaping.

He simply stared, swallowing. They remained like that for awhile, unable to break free from their silent confrontation. Finally, the flight attendant had to come by and tell them to sit down as they were delaying take off further. Both of them sank into their seats hurriedly, embarrassed for causing trouble.

Ami buckled her seatbelt and immediately pushed her hands between her knees, squeezing them at the wrists. Then she leaned her head against the seat in front of her, taking slow, deep breaths. She could not believe it. After weeks of searching, hours of chasing, and an incredible amount of time thinking about him, there he was. He was Japanese and he was flying to Japan. He had been so close all this time, and she’d had to race with him in the city of a thousand spires.

“This is awkward,” he said finally, his voice trembling.

She nodded in agreement. “Very.”

“I’m sorry for running.”

She straightened, surprised. “No, I… I’m the one who—"

“You must have had a reason.”

“No,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing, mortified at her behavior. “I don’t… that is, I don’t really know why.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He pondered this for a minute. “Oh.”

“I feel like an idiot,” she admitted, lowering her voice as the flight attendants began to perform the safety lecture she nearly had memorized.

“Same,” he muttered, chuckling. He gulped again, his prominent Adam’s apple jerking over his throat. “My name is MatsumotoYori.”

“Ami,” she said automatically. “Mizuno Ami.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”

He laughed, scratching the back of his head. “In a way.”

She leaned back in her seat at last and, because there didn’t seem anyway around it, she said, “So, why were you in Prague, Matsumoto-san?”

They conversed for the rest of the flight, exchanging pleasantries and telling the standard funny stories about their friends one told when meeting new people. For hours they simply talked, slowly erasing the many hours they had spent running and chasing, fearing and crying. By the end of it, neither Ami nor Yori could quite remember what had so disturbed them in the first place.

But they both knew it was the beginning of something.

They just didn’t know what.