Chapter Sixteen: Welcome to the Simple Life

*“Serena…” Hiiro cleared his throat as they settled into the back of the taxicab. “We’ll need some new clothes.” He knew it seemed a foolish thing to say, but it was true. He was still dressed in a ragged mix of a German army uniform and an American one. He hadn’t shaved in nearly two weeks, and hadn’t showered in three. He felt disgusting, and since there was no reason he shouldn’t be able to get clean, he wanted to right away.

And, he thought, besides. She didn’t look much better than he did. Her hair was dirty and stringy, unwashed for a great deal longer than his. She had been asleep for three months and unable to wash. At least he had been given one shower every four weeks. Not to mention, she still had on the American camouflage pants and the oversized gray jacket he had pawned from Nicks. They stood out like sore thumbs in a world of clean cut and wholesome perfection.

Serena looked up, analyzing his face and voice. His words had been so much softer that time, his face not as harsh and angled. But she could read in his eyes that he was tired and felt dirty. She knew the feeling well—she definitely empathized with him now.

“Alright.” She nodded. “Once we’ve gotten a room, we’ll shop.” Serena only allowed her voice to lighten up in tone slightly however. She was still a little hurt that he had been so gruff lately. Still, she also knew that the fact that he had changed his tone at all had been his apology for his poor behavior.

They pulled up at a smaller hotel, a motel really, and Hiiro stepped out if the car as quickly as possible. Serena followed him out at a slower rate, still not quite sure she trusted Hiiro enough to get out as quickly as he had. She knew it was a foolish endeavor, but felt like humoring herself for a while.

“Uh, sir? The money? It’s seven fifty for the ride.” The taxi driver told them in a rough, smart Alec slur. Hiiro glared blankly, and Serena suddenly remembered.

“Oh!” She inhaled sharply. “Right. Hiiro, my wallet is in my bag.” She looked at him pointedly, which Hiiro took as a message to dig into his own black bad and pull hers out. Then he forked over the canvas bag and let Serena do her own digging within the bag. The taxi driver, who had been waiting impatiently, started frowning more often.

“Come on! This isn’t a charity drive you know.” The man snuffed. Serena nodded, and Hiiro frowned.

“Take your time Serena.” He warned her. Then he sent a chilling glare at the cabbie, which took the hint and left well enough alone. Serena had stopped in mid-dig to let Hiiro’s words sink in, and once they had, she speed up her hunt— just in case. Finally she fumbled out a wallet, and from the wallet she pulled four pieces of paper, one with a five on it, the other three with ones.

“Keep the change.” She nodded to him as she handed him the bills.

“Thanks.” The man called as he took the money and squealed his tires as he took off. Hiiro eyed the wallet Serena still clutched in her hand.

“You’ll have to teach me their monetary system.”

“Okay.” She bowed her head. Hiiro shifted where he stood, and then the two both turned and headed in towards the main desk without another word.

“One room, two beds.” Hiiro told the woman behind the front desk. She looked up and smiled.

“Of course sir. Do you mind what floor you and your wife stay on?”

“Wife?” Hiiro muttered, wholly unready for the hostess’s question. But Serena had been armed.

“No, but please, non-smoking?” Hiiro eyed the petite blonde beside him. He opened his mouth, as if to protest, and then shut it just as quickly. Had she known they would be asked that? Non-smoking? Wife? She was going to get an ear full for this! Historians! They were all troublemakers! His mind made the very biased opinion quickly, before he realized that Serena happened to be the only historian he had ever met. But once he had the realization, he still remained by his original belief—though he knew it was foolish.

“Right. Here you go sir, room 330. The elevator is to your right.” Hiiro nodded, still in a daze, and grabbed the key roughly from the woman’s hand. Serena trailed after him, not caring to look back at the appalled face that the woman behind the desk wore.

The elevator ride had been in silence, both parties fully ignoring each other with all their willpower. However, once they arrived at the door with their room number nailed to it, they knew it could not stay that way. Serena knew Hiiro was about to peg her with questions, and Hiiro knew Serena was about to give him some answers.

“Sit.” He commanded. “Wife?”

“The fifties are a very socially conscious decade. The woman at the desk probably wouldn’t have said anything different even if we had obviously been something other than a married couple.”

“We are obviously something other than a married couple.” He glared and looked out the window. Then he stopped, and ran his hand through his hair. “Point taken.”

“Non-smoking. A lot of people in the fifties thought smoking was a mark of class, or at least a way of rebelling. And I don’t like the smell personally.” Serena answered without being asked.

“Understood.” Hiiro nodded. He would forgo telling her that the smell of cigarette smoke made him sneeze. “And money.” Serena nodded.

“There are paper dollars, and coins.” Taking her wallet back out, she laid out on the table four bills. “They are worth what they say: twenty, ten, two, and one. The coins, however, are a bit trickier. Largest is a quarter, four create one dollar.”

“Hence the title ‘quarter’.” Hiiro smirked. Serena nodded.

“Then the dime, worth ten cents, the nickel, five cents, and the penny, one cent. Enough of any of the coins to add up to a hundred and you have a dollar.”

“Understood. Simple.”

“They were simple people in the fifties.” She remarked gently. Hiiro nodded.

“Simple.” His gaze traveled out over the skies, which were a brilliant shade of blue. In fact, the color rather reminded him of Serena’s eyes.

“What now?” Serena finally had the courage to ask. She was sitting on one of the twin-sized beds they had been given, watching Hiiro like a hawk.

“We can take a short break.” Hiiro told her without his eyes leaving the view. “I, we, need to clean up, and we need to fit in.” Finally he dragged himself away from the window, and looked at him. “Showers are the same?”

“Everything in here should be familiar, even if it is a downgrade from what you’re used to.” She whispered. He nodded in response, and walked through the bathroom door, shutting and locking it behind him.

For a moment Serena stood still. What was it about that man made her skin crawl and her heartbeat speed up at the same time? It was as if he had an aura that simply drew her to him, like a moth from a flame. She knew she should be upset with his mood swings, but she couldn’t help but not care every time he spoke. He was like a child, asking her questions and wanting explanations, but like a man in that he wanted to have everything done his way. What did he want from her? What did he want from the fifties? What could a former soldier, especially one such as himself, possibly stand to gain from traveling to the past like this?

Knowing that her question would most likely only be answered in time, Serena finally shrugged and opened her bag. Pouring the contents onto the bed beside her, she looked it over and sighed. With her she had, indeed brought a history book, but it was a very small and compact one. The majority of the bag’s space had been taken up by the dress she had brought—a nineteen fifties dress she had borrowed from one of the mannequins in the museum, complete with the ruffled and lacy petty coats that had been so popular in the day. Once Hiiro was out of his shower, she would take one of her own and then put the dress on.

Just then Serena noticed how much her feet ached. And how much her hands stung from the cuts she had received climbing the barbwire. And how every single noise in the room seemed to amplify a hundred fold until the ringing made her eyes pop and head pound. She didn’t feel very well…

Lying down on the bed, she carefully rested her eyes. Just rested. That way, when Hiiro finished with his shower, she would know instantly and be ready to rush in and take her own. But the harder she tried to fight the overpowering urge to fall asleep, the heavier her eyelids grew, until she finally lost consciousness and nodded off.

When Hiiro stepped out of the shower, he quickly dried off and looked at himself in the mirror disapprovingly. Taking the razor he had brought, and the tiny bar of soap provided by the hotel, he lathered up and begun to shave the beard that had begun to grow. As his skin reappeared beneath the soapsuds, he smiled lightly.

Almost back to his old self again. All he needed was a clean set of clothes, and he would be good as new. The only thing he mourned the loss of was his Preventer’s jacket from the Eve Wars. He had loved that jacket—it had held so many memories of his liberation from the war efforts. It had made him feel free, simply wearing it. But it was long gone by now, burned in ashes and buried under rubble in a time that had passed long ago.

Pulling his pants back on, he opened the bathroom door. A cloud of steam rose around him as it filtered into the colder air of the bedroom and he involuntarily shivered. Now where had Serena gone? Looking around, he knotted his eyes in confusion briefly, and then raised his eyebrows when he finally spied her.

There she lay, meek and homily as ever, asleep on the bed. Her things were spread out around her on the bed, and she looked as though she hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Her hair was pulled back behind her, but a few greasy stands had managed to work their way out to frame her dirt-smeared face. Her hands still had the army cloth wrapped around them, and he could see traces of dried blood caked underneath them. Blood? When had she cut herself? She hadn’t said anything to him!

As if she had seen his sudden look of worry and frustration, Serena mumbled an indistinct something and curled herself up into a fetal position on the bed. And then Hiiro chuckled. He simply opened his mouth and let the sounds float carelessly from the back of his throat, over his tongue, and into the room. She was probably one of the ugliest sights he had ever seen, laying in dirty army clothes, with dirt caked all over her, a giant coat hiding any curves he knew she did have, and her greasy hair tangled and sticking out every which way.

Yes, the ugliest. And yet, the most endearing. The way her face was smooth of any worry wrinkles, the way her pale pink lips curved into a tiny smile, the way she stay so still and peaceful… Hiiro could feel his heart thumping as he watched her. It was not so much so that he found her drop dead gorgeous; the reality was quite the contrary. But it was that he knew she could be drop dead gorgeous if she so chose to, and she did not. She had an innocent quality about her that rang true, while at the same time she shared his pessimistic views on life and humanity. And that, to him, was far more beautiful than anything or anyone else he had ever seen or met.

Shaking his head slightly and still chuckling at life’s irony, Hiiro moved towards the bed and very gently reached over to the sleeping woman. “Serena?” He coaxed her. “You can take the shower now.” He watched her groggily sit up and blink, trying to remember what had been happening before she had gone to sleep.

“Shower?” She muttered.

“You can a take a shower now.” He repeated. She nodded, and then let her head fall back to the pillow, shutting her eyes once more. Shaking his head at her actions, Hiiro sighed. Well, he could follow her example. Hiiro moved around her bed to the second, unoccupied one and flopped down on the soft mattress. Burying his head into the pillow, he turned over and shut his eyes, hoping for a dreamless sleep to overtake him.

The next time Serena opened her eyes, she had to squint. A bright stream of sunlight was piercing through the crack in the curtains and landing directly on her face. So much for sleep! She sighed. Well, honestly? She was surprised she had even been able to sleep at all. She had felt sure Hiiro would wake her for the shower… Sitting up and rubbing her eyes, she looked around the room.

The majority of it was still shrouded in the dark, regardless of the fact that it was close to seven thirty in the morning according to the vintage clock on the wall across from her. Quickly she noticed that Hiiro was asleep in the bed next to hers, his face completely relaxed for the first time since she had met him. It was nice to see he was getting sleep. She knew that his time as a POW must not have been the easiest lifestyle change to make, and that he probably hadn’t slept well for the last three months.

God she smelled! Wrinkling her nose at her own stench, she realized that she didn’t have to sit and do nothing about it; she could take a decent shower! As quickly as she could move without making noise, Serena hopped off the bed and made her way into the bathroom. Shutting the door carefully, so as not to wake her sleeping partner, she breathed a sigh and smiled. This was the first time in the last three months she had had a little bit of quiet time to herself. It was nice not to have to worry about being discovered by German soldiers, to be worried about how to escape or survive.

The relief she felt as being alive was the strongest feeling she had ever experienced. Suddenly her throat choked up, and her eyes throbbed with dry tears. Her smile became a frown, and she sat on the toilet as her first sob escaped her dry lips. Why was she crying? She wasn’t hurt, or angry, or sad. She was just… she felt like crying. She was happy that she was alive, but the tears kept coming. What sort of emotion was this? What in human nature dictated that when you were happy you should cry like you weren’t? Unable to make head or tail of her feelings, she only cried harder.

“You sick?” Hiiro asked darkly from the door. Serena looked down at the tiled floor and shook her head. “Injured?” She continued to shake her head. Hiiro was at a loss. Finally he conceded to not knowing what was wrong and simply stood in the doorway, watching her.

“I don’t know why I’m crying.” Serena finally sniffed, wiping her eyes with one hand and her nose with the other. Hiiro nodded, and then he made his way into the bathroom and crouched down in front of her. Lightly he took hold of her shoulders, and prompted her to look him in the eye.

“I do.” He murmured. “You’re alive.” With his words, the blonde woman’s eyes clouded over once more and a fresh set of hot tears spilled over as she nodded. Hiiro knew, he understood. A relief flooded her aching heart, and she forgot to be embarrassed or shy around the soldier.

Hiiro understood completely. For the first time in years, his heart began to ache. Her tears… every last drop of clear salty liquid that beaded down from her crystalline azure eyes held memories for him as well. His mind raced back to his training, how lucky he had felt at the end of each day to be alive after the brutal beatings and tactics he had undergone. But over time those feelings had gone away, and he had forgotten to feel lucky to be alive.

Then his first real mission came to his mind. After he had killed that little girl, he dog, her family, and all of those innocent civilians, he had remembered that feeling. The relief that being alive after seeing so many other dead had washed over him, and he had been wrought with grief over his mistake. But after so many missions, so many innocent dead, the feeling of wonderment at living had died away again.

And then his memory floated to the Marimeia rebellion, the last of the battles fought during the Eve Wars. He had been so grateful to be alive after he had fallen into the ocean that he had sat in his quite undersea tomb, breathing and thanking any higher powers that existed for his life. Still, after that he lost sight of that feeling, and since then he had not felt special to be alive for any reason. After all of those incidents, after all of those years spent constantly in danger, constantly at risk of dying, he had simply become used to being alive after each fight. It never struck him as important, as life changing or life defining the way it had when he had first begun. It just… didn’t matter.

But seeing Serena, the woman he had found whom shared his views so similarly, crying her eyes out at being thankful to be alive… It struck home. He identified with her tears, he understood. And for the first time in so very long, Hiiro felt thankful that after everything he had lived through in life, he was still alive.

“I’m alive. We’re alive. It’s a miracle.” Serena murmured through her tears. This time Hiiro could not speak, only nodded. And then he slid his arms around Serena’s back and pulled her in for a hug, silently rocking her back and forth, comforting her in a way that only they knew how to understand.

Moments upon moments passed, and Serena managed to bite back her tears and calm herself down. Hiiro’s repeated rocking made her feel strangely lethargic and content, and she briefly wished she knew how to thank him for this. But she knew she never could. But then, she thought, he would understand. That was the kind of person he was too, never wanting to admit a wrong, say sorry, or to thank someone for help given. She gently pulled out of his comforting hug and wiped her cheeks. Without saying anything Hiiro stood and turned, leaving the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

“And all I ever wanted was a simple life.” Serena muttered as she sniffed again and reached up to start the shower. *

~~~What do you guys think? Is it any good? I feel spent... Much love, Vixen~~~