Celeste listened to Beethoven’s fourth symphony as her father drove down the long dirt road. They had been driving for over two hours and she was sure she had lost circulation to her legs. The lights finally peaked over the hill and their house came into view. It was modernized version of the machiya homes with blue wavy roof tiles she had seen in Kyoto last year. Her father must have had the roof redone. Typical.

They pulled into the driveway and were able to see into the front entrance. A woman watched as they pulled up, went inside, and then came back with a tall and somber looking old man. Saioji-San smiled pleasantly at the both of them. Celeste wasn’t sure who the woman was, she must have been a new hire. They bowed as Celeste walked toward them and stayed that way until she passed.

It annoyed her how uptight the servants were in this house, but her father had ordered them for Kotone’s comfort and wanted her to feel as close to home as possible. She slipped off her shoes and put them away in the shoe cupboard. Celeste stepped up and found the house slippers in their usual spot. She shuffled across the floor and walked over to the dining area. They kept a European style décor with clean and crisp whites, varying shades of green and light grey. Both Kotone and Celeste had similar taste in their minimalist approach to design. Her father didn’t have the heart to change it, so it mostly stayed the same with updated flooring and fixtures but always the color palette and paintings that mama had loved.

The newest addition was the three paneled piece above the dining table that depicted a field and a small family of rabbits hiding among the brush. It was adorably simple, yet elegant. The artist had a knack for pastels. Celeste sat down and her father joined her. Their usual cake, a French-style round with piped icing, was complete with fruit and a chocolate plate that read: O tanjobi omedetogozaimasu─ as stuffy a birthday greeting as ever, Saioji-san must have made it. Celeste smiled at him as he brought in their traditional jasmine tea and placed three cups on the table. “Who is the new lady?” Celeste prodded. He poured the tea next to her dad first for her mother, then her father’s, and finally her own. His dry voice wavered as he bowed stiffly, “Ms. Takawa flew in a few weeks ago and will remain the new housekeeper.” Celeste looked at her father as Saioji-san silently walked from the room. “Father?” He looked at her, his face grim. “Saioji-san has had cancer for years, baby. He is in stage four and I am making sure that he has all the comforts he will need in his new home.” She gaped at him from across the room feeling awful for doubting the housekeeper’s demeanor. So it was true, everyone that touched her was cursed. She shoved the cake away, suddenly not hungry.

* * *

They pulled into Celeste’s driveway after the long drive back and her father switched off the car. This year had been exceptionally lovely, the tea room had been decorated in festive fall colors. It was a good place to get away to every few months, even though the help wasn’t warm. Then again, she didn’t blame them. Nothing had been the same since Mama’s passing.

To top it all off, Saioji-san’s condition was too much. He never even mentioned it to her, she had grown up with him all those years, and he never said more than a handful of sentences to her. She hadn’t even known his first name. She turned to her father. When he said nothing, she asked, “is everything OK?” He inclined his head, “Yes, but I need to talk to you.” Celeste stared at him unsure of where this was going, “Of course─ what’s going on?” He grasped her hand and sighed.

“I have to go to Japan next week, and I need you to go with me. I know you’ve been through─ a lot lately, but I need this to go as smoothly as possible.” She nodded her head and smiled, “Of course, I’ll let Dr. Heisman know. How is Yamamoto-San doing?” He arched his brow, “I see Luci has been talking with you.” She grinned, “Yep, told me that you would probably need me to join you.” He threw his hands in the hair and acted exasperated, “does anyone really need me anymore?” Celeste chuckled and poked at her father’s side. “You know we look out for you,” she said. “This is true,” he agreed.

They sat quietly and gazed outside in opposite directions. “Celeste,” he trailed off searching for the right words. She turned and stared expectantly in his direction. He finally found his voice again, “Thanks for being a great daughter. I really couldn’t do it without you.” She reached out and gave his shoulder a squeeze, “Of course, Dad. I love you.” He smiled at her and squeezed her hand, “I love you too, baby.”

* * *

Celeste slipped into her pajamas, glad to be out of the uncomfortable attire. She sat by the fire and stared out of the large, bay window. This was what she feared most, she didn’t want to have time to think. The other woman’s frame flashed in her head and she tried without success to push it away. She walked into the kitchen and heard her phone go off again. Celeste looked at the clock and shook her head. The guy was persistent, she would give him that. Maybe she should go ahead and answer, it was cruel to ignore him. No, it was cruel what he did to you, she spat inwardly.

After the second round of calls, she ripped the phone from her bag. She relaxed realizing it was Daniel. “Hello,” she sang happily. His low rumble was welcoming, “Hey, sorry about calling so late, how are you holding up?” She felt touched that he would ask. After they had left Matilda’s he pulled off the road and asked her what was wrong. She must have been really bad at hiding her emotions, but it felt great to tell someone what had happened.

“It’s okay, it’s only eleven. Have you heard anything else about Lain?” she asked hopefully. “I’ve called the relatives again and Matilda this morning, they haven’t seen her at all,” he muttered, “Sorry, I’m trying my best. We just keep coming up empty handed.” “It’s okay, I was hoping someone had seen her.” She sighed heavily. Well, back to square one. At this point, she was beginning to wonder if they ever would know.

They sat on the phone for a minute before both of them spoke at the same time. Celeste laughed, “It’s okay, go ahead.” She heard his laughter on the other end, “I was wondering if you wanted to go catch a movie sometime.” Celeste knew better than to agree, it was stupid to think she would be over John in a week. Then her mind shifted to Lain. She would have to fly out next week and the longer they sat around and did nothing, the less likely they were to locate her.

“As much as I’d love to, I can’t right now,” she said. “I know,” he interrupted, “I’ll help to find her as much as I can. I meant after all of this is over, and you have time to heal.” She couldn’t hide the grin in her voice, “You know what, that sounds really good.”

They talked about meeting up the following day, and she hung up. Her phone went off again and she glanced down at the screen. She ground her jaw in annoyance and slammed the phone into the charger in the kitchen. Screw him─ she would talk with John tomorrow. Celeste walked back to her room and snuggled down into the comforter.

* * *

John set down the phone and rubbed his hands over his face several times. This wasn’t good. He needed her at her best before she went back to Japan. They all did. It wasn’t long until the harvest moon. He looked at the calendar on his phone. Nine days. And with his next trip to the City of Souls for the final part of the binding spell, it wasn’t going to last a week if she were to be awakened. He only hoped that Scott had enough common sense to keep Celeste busy. At least long enough to get the height of the spell and trap the demon within her again.

It had worked year after year, and he was able to keep the part of her alive that was still good and pure. Question was, how long? He growled in frustration. Wasn’t that always the question? Mitsuko had phased, and it would be a few days before she would return from Heaven. He always hated waiting on her to come back.

“You ready?” John spun and found Michael standing in his living room. “You know, privacy is generally something I like to keep.” Michael snickered and jabbed John in the side with his elbow, “I know she’s gone, remember? I still have access to Heaven.” John stared hard at him, “This isn’t a game, do you have any idea what Messiah would do if he knew we were cheating fate?” Michael ignored him and walked out of his human form, his skin a beacon of light.

John shielded his eyes as the sigils systematically wrapped around Michael’s body. John’s eyes barely had time to adjust before he felt Michael grip his forearm. “Yes, Uriel. I am aware.” John cringed, knowing that he had crossed the line. Of course Michael knew the pain of going against Messiah. Michael looked down to John, his lavender gaze unmoving. Tears gathered and fell down his face, his human body recoiling against Michael’s purity.

“Uriel, are you certain?” John ground his teeth at hearing his given name again, but inclined his head. The sigil snaked from Michael’s arm and wrapped his own shoving its way beneath his skin. The pain was so blinding he nearly lost consciousness, but he maintained eye contact, he knew the rules. If it was lost, he would be eliminated instead of thrown into the Æther and reborn into the City of Souls. Excalibur flashed in Michael’s right hand, a millisecond later, the sword was thrust forward impaling John through his chest. Dying never was easy, his human form screamed in agony as he fell to his knees. Michael never let him go, the incantation bubbling from his lips. The lavender from Michael’s eyes faded as the barrier came into view. In seconds, he was alone and The Great Divide loomed before him.

* * *