❝ Self-acceptance is my refusal to be in an adversarial relationship to myself. ❞ –Nathaniel Brand
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In all her years of flying to dance competitions, Akira never expected the flight to be one of the worst she has ever been on.
She sat in the backseat of her father's car, anxiously picking at her nails and tugging at her stray hair with worry. Ryota and her father sat up front as they discussed their latest international competition and structured out a solid routine. Miguel sat beside her and watched Akira's face go pale, knowing how uncomfortable she felt when in a confined place with her family. As they pulled into the airport's parking lot, the car slowed to a stop and drove up by the sidewalk. Haruto looked at the rear view mirror and Akira looked away from his reflection immediately. "Get out," He said as he signaled with his chin.
Akira swiftly unbuckled her seatbelt and rushed to grab the door handle, shaking it a bit and pushing it open with all her might. She stumbled forward from the force and tripped on the curb, falling forward until Miguel lurched forward and grabbed her wrist. "Woah, you okay?" He asked as Akira regained composure and straightened up.
"Y-Yes," She mumbled as Miguel slid his hand into hers to help himself get out of the car. "Thank you."
He smiled back and let go of her grasp while Ryota got out to open the trunk. The actor pulled out Miguel's suitcases and dragged them over to the foreign exchange student. "It was nice having you around, kid," He grinned endearingly and ruffled the boy's hair who merely faked a laugh in response. As Ryota headed back to grab Akira's belongings, he pulled out a single, black duffle bag and threw it at her feet. She frowned at him, and her brother scoffed and rolled his eyes with amusement. "You honestly believe that I am going to carry it for you? Pick it up yourself, woman."
Holding her emotions back as she bit her tongue, Akira crouched to pick up the bag and slung it over her shoulder. She straightened out her black skirt that fell to her knees, annoyed but not surprised that Ryota didn't have the decency to hand it to her. Miguel watched his friend with sympathy and gestured towards the building. "Let's hurry up and check in so we don't miss the flight, okay?" He asked gently and she slowly nodded in agreement.
He went ahead, pulling both suitcases behind him as he entered the airport. Akira turned back to lock eyes with her brother, shooting him a glare full of spite. "Freedom from you for a week; what a dream," She held back the urge to spit in his direction. "I may finally be freed from your high pitched, pubescent voice, brother."
Ryota placed a hand over his chest and blinked back fake tears, pretending to be touched by her words. "How you flatter me, dear sister." He reached out and without warning, grabbed her ponytail and ran his fingers through her long locks. His face seemed a bit blank as he moved up to her hair tie as if recalling something, but Akira drew back with confusion in her glare. Ryota's soft gaze morphed into cruelty as he snickered at her recoil. "I shall be ecstatic to show you three new trophies by the time you return. Let us both hope that your little dancing camp will help get your life back in check," He cackled at his joke before getting back into the shotgun seat.
The car drove off, picking up speed until it was soon out of Akira's sight. She tightly grabbed the strap of the bag as she accepted that her father wasn't going to say goodbye and headed into the building. Taking a deep breath, she readied herself and walked alone through the revolving doors and watched as Miguel ran up to her while holding out two, white tickets.
"Your bag's gonna be a carry-on," He said as she took the tickets from him. "I put mine on the plane." He bent over and began putting a tag on the strap, "We'll head over to the terminal and get ready to board; let's try not to be late." Miguel said as he took the bag from her and hung it over his arm. Akira opened her mouth to stop him, but he waved his hand and walked away, indicating her to follow. She giggled quietly and followed his footsteps.
Her heart pounded against her chest as she walked past chattering families and tourists ready to leave the country. She never left Japan without her father before which left her deathly afraid. The paranoia that she'd mess up somehow when he wasn't there began to take over. Although it was a breath of fresh air to be without him, she couldn't help but worry that something would go wrong. His controlling clutch on her freedom continued to tighten even when he wasn't around.
Throughout the maze of bag checks and finding the correct terminal gate, her mind was possessed by the thought of her father. What would happen when he realized that the camp wasn't about dance? Akira wouldn't be surprised if he disowned her; he threatened to do so every time she placed second in a kabuki contest. Starve and lock her in her room for days? Cruel, but not the worst punishment he's given. Beat her? No, too common and the neighbors would complain.
The fear grew and took over her thoughts, leaving her body feeling numb. Her eyesight went fuzzy, making it hard for her to see and she stumbled, almost blindly. She felt as if she was going to throw up again, completely trapped by her delusions. Akira couldn't hear Miguel calling her name countless times as she was wrapped up in her delusions, and she accidentally bumped into someone in the process. "Oh, pardon me..." She apologized and bowed quickly.
The person bowed back in response, and as they both straightened up, she made eye contact with the stranger. A big, burly man tucked into a blazer and white collared shirt. Big hands that tightly gripped a brown briefcase hid behind his back. His eyes seemed to haze and merge together as if a blurry film covered her sight.
Miguel hurried over to pull her away. "I'm sorry about her, sir," He said quickly, placing a hand on Akira's back to lead her back to their gate. Heavy footsteps trod behind them and Akira saw Miguel's gaze lock onto seats by the window. The two sat down and watched as the man whom Akira collided with sat in the same terminal a few rows away, suspiciously looking over at their direction every so often. "You've got my baton in your bag, right?" Miguel whispered out of the corner of his mouth, catching Akira off guard.
She nodded and pointed at the front pocket of her duffle bag, where Miguel placed it earlier in the morning for convenience. "Why? What is wrong?" Akira asked, noticing Miguel's expression turn dark with concern.
"There's something off about that guy," He mumbled. "Although that may just be me being delusional. Let's hope he doesn't go on the same plane as us."
If Akira wasn't scared early, she definitely was now. She did her best to hide it from Miguel so it wouldn't bother him, but the chills of fear crept up her legs like tiny, itching spiders. Was she even ready to leave her country? Should she have trusted Miguel's words? How would he have known? Just because they both saw a monster?
Was she truly a demigod?
So many doubts and questions filled her mind. Without Miguel's knowing, Akira slipped her hand into the pocket of her skirt to grab a small, zip lock bag filled halfway with medication pills. A feeling of assurance washed over her as she felt the bag, mentally noting that she would only use them if she genuinely believed that a "monster" was a figment of her imagination.
"Calling all passengers to board the flight to San Francisco," Static fuzzed over the intercom. "I repeat, all passengers to board for San Francisco."
The two got up from their seats to line up with the dozens in front of them, carefully eyeing the man who stood a few feet away. He seemed to talk with a couple others that were similar in size; tall and stoic, sturdy and well-built. Akira kept trying to sneak a glimpse of their faces, but they continued to blur as if she had poor eyesight.
"We'll catch a ride from the airport to Oakland Hills and enter the service tunnel by Caldecott," Miguel muttered to himself as if making a mental check list. "I'll shoot a message to Field who's probably busy with that new camper, and Reyna's whistle should be..." His words died out as he glanced over at his friend, his face immediately softening. He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it tightly as a sign of comfort. Akira looked up at the boy and squeezed back, causing Miguel to realize her growing discomfort for the flight. "Hey, it's going to be alright," He assured her as they neared the front of the line. "Camp Jupiter is a safe place for people like us. You'll learn how to protect yourself from creatures like the one from yesterday and learn how to become stronger."
Although he saw the doubt in her expression, Miguel had to let her go as they were finally at the terminal's entrance. He handed the tickets over to a flight attendant, who obviously looked super bored of their job with their fake, enthusiastic smile. "Hope you have an enjoyable flight, sir," They grumbled through grinding teeth and gestured toward the walkway.
Miguel looked over at his friend one more time, resting his arm on her shoulder. "You ready?"
She inhaled deeply; preparing herself to leave her dancing lifestyle, the bonds of her father, and her life in Japan.
"Yes, I am ready."
♛ ♛ ♛
Akira gripped the armrests of her chair as the plane hit a bit of turbulence. "Only half an hour until we reach our destination, folks," The captain's voice screeched over the intercom. "San Fransisco, here we come." She drew in a tight inhale as the plane shook, bumping her around in her seat like a pinball. Her nails dug into the fabric as she prayed to the kami Amaterasu, the goddess of the heavens, for a safe passage. Perhaps she should have implored the Greek and Roman gods as well, but as she didn't know any of them (or worshiped them for that matter), Akira decided to leave them aside.
Miguel watched her mutter her prayers under her breath before hearing a slight movement behind them. He turned around, observing two of the three men they spotted at the airport earlier stand up from their seats. They stomped down the walkway, fists clenched as if preparing for a fight. Miguel carefully slipped a hand into Akira's bag, grabbing his conductor's baton and pulling it out. Keeping his guard up, Miguel twirled the weapon with his fingers expertly which caught Akira's attention.
"Is there something wrong? Shall I get my fan?" She asked, but Miguel shushed her by putting his free hand over her lips. She frowned and he lowered it compliantly, and she reached into her skirt's pocket while slipping out the fan's wooden handle.
The two men stopped right by their seats, with the one Akira bumped into leaning against Miguel's headrest. Miguel bit his tongue, being hit with some unbearable stench wafting from the men; the smell of raw meat. "We need to have a proper chat with the girl," His buddy snarled through crooked, yellow teeth. "My friend here told me she hurt him back at the terminal." Akira drew back in her seat, fully knowing that she had previously apologized and bowed earlier.
They bent forward, as if wanting to forcibly remove Akira from her seat belt, but Miguel held an arm out defensively. "If you want to talk to someone, then talk to me," He said calmly. "I'm sure we can work something out."
The man who initiated the conversation sniffed at the air, as if there was a strange scent floating around that wasn't them, and growled like a rabid dog. His cracked, dry tongue licked his lips and a smug smile pulled at his cheeks. "You... Are a half-blood too!"
Swiftly, Miguel swiped the baton in a long line and watched it transform into duo daggers that fit perfectly in each hand. Slicing through the seat belt, he leaped out of his seat and aimed for the nearest man's throat. Before he could strike, the man struck his face with a quick blow and Miguel fell into the aisle. He spat, the taste of metallic blood tickling the insides of his cheek. Passengers stood up and began to scream and chatter, getting up from their seats to run either to the far ends of the plane or to record the fight before them.
The other wildly grabbed at Akira, but she got up onto the arm of her seat and kicked wildly at his hands. He managed to seize her ankle, in which she whipped out her fan and dragged the metal nails against his fingers and he drew back with a howl. His friend snatched Miguel up by his chest and dragged him up into the air. The passengers screamed as the man slammed Miguel against the cabins, and the boy coughed and wheezed as he felt his ribs press against his lungs.
"HEY!" Akira yelled, causing all the attention to turn and focus on her. "LEAVE HIM ALONE!" She drew a gasp as the two men swiveled around, for the sight before her was one she never saw before; they both had a single, bloodshot eye aimed straight at her. Their skin seemed to prune and wrinkle in front of her, transforming into a murky and sickly gray. Orange, cracked nails scratched at her face and she bit the creature's hand for defense. It reeled back again, roaring as its saliva flew everywhere.
The monster holding Miguel dropped him and he fell into the laps of the passengers below him. "Cyclopes!" Miguel spat as he scrambled up as fast as he could. "The Mist has grown stronger!" He lunged forward, but the second creature grabbed the blade to stop him. Dark, black blood trickled down the weapon's edge as he pulled it free and sliced it into the giant's arm. As the monster screeched in pain, he kneed Miguel in the stomach and the half-blood gagged, crumpling onto the floor.
"Get over here, you brat!" The one Akira bumped into sneered and sprung at her. She jumped up from her seat and struck his face with her small fist. His head slammed into the chair in front of her and Akira unbuckled her seatbelt while climbing over the fallen monster, finally making it to Miguel's side. She stood over him protectively as the two Cyclopes approached them as a predator does to its prey. Akira swallowed nervously, not knowing what to do as she had no clue on how to fight.
"Passengers, please remain calm!" An air hostess yelled over the microphone. "We will make an emergency landing, so stop this act of violence immediately!"
The plane staggered, hitting another spot of rough turbulence and everyone on board screamed bloody murder. One of the monsters stumbled backward, clambering at anything to stop. His grip slid onto the emergency door and his weight pushed it open, sucking him into a vacuum over three thousand feet in the air. He bellowed a curse upon the gods before being dragged down to the ground below him.
Miguel scanned back and forth between the two crises as he tried to get up; the remaining Cyclops or the void of doom. Suddenly, as if Minerva granted him immediate guidance, he remembered Reyna's whistle which hung on a silver bracelet that he wore around his wrist. It was going to be a long shot, but the whistle should be heard since they were nearby. "AKIRA!" He shouted over the screeching wind and pointed at the door, "JUMP OUT!"
Akira's mouth dropped agape, completely wide eyed. "ARE YOU CRAZY?!" She yelled back while doing her best to hold down her skirt, but did as he told and ran towards the entrance. Miguel finally stood up and followed her, holding out both daggers in front of him to ward off the approaching monster who staggered at their direction. Akira leaned out while tightly gripping the sides of the plane. The wind whipped at her face and stung at her eyes as she winced, her knees buckling at the sight. "No one can survive a drop like this!" Akira shrieked, fear getting to her once again. "This is suicide!"
Miguel grabbed her shoulder, turning her to face him. "It will be okay!" He exclaimed, tilting close so she could hear him better. "Trust me; I'll be right behind you, don't you worry!" Akira stared up into his brown and green flecked eyes, their foreheads were touching and his warm breath on her face. After a while, she finally nodded, gaining confidence through her friend's words. He edged her to the door and turned to fight the monsters once again, wiping at his mouth to see red on the back of his hand.
She inched forward as she braced herself, emptying her mind and thoughts to the best of her ability.
"Oh Amaterasu, if I die, grant me the passing to the heavens," Akira whispered, shutting her eyes tightly.
And she jumped.
i decided to rewrite chapter four since i hated how rushed the previous one was. practice makes perfect, kids. originally, this chapter was gonna be 4800+ words but then i thought even i wouldn't read something that long and cut it in half haha (which means i might actually update next week!)
aah, writing false hopes are fun; guys, i just like messing with you, miguelxakira isn't happening.
thanks for reading! leave a vote and comment if you enjoyed :)