Chapter 32

The two lovebirds continued to enjoy the festival as if oblivious to the fact a deadly assassin was following their every move. After walking around taking in the sights for a while, they played a few games, including the fish catching game where Akane attempted to scoop a small goldfish into a bowl with a paper poi. Though she didn't win a goldfish, she did keep the broken poi as a memento.

After that, Caleb tried his hand at a cork-rifle game. After which, Akane discovered something new about her boyfriend. He was a terrible, terrible shot. As brilliant and charming as Caleb was, he appeared to be completely hopeless with a rifle in his hand. If she had to guess, this was likely why he didn't use guns. Showing him how it was done, Akane managed to win a plastic light-up wand on her first try.

Once the couple had finally had enough fun, they parted ways. With Caleb getting into a cab and heading to the exact address Akane instructed him to head to. Upon stepping out of the cab and looking up at the twenty-story concrete building still under construction, he made his way past the fence, checking to make sure there were no workers about, before heading into the building and making his way up to the top floor.

He was coming for him. Caleb was all but certain of it. This would be his first move on the chessboard, and the anticipation of seeing what sort of countermove his opponent would come up with had his heart racing with excitement. Their battle would be quite a bit different from Sana. But he was certain to enjoy every second of it all the same.

Upon reaching the top floor and looking around at the large flat surface that would be their battleground, he couldn't help but marvel at his girlfriend all the more. She really did pick a damn near-perfect spot for this. What was more, he could see the fireworks display perfectly from up here. An ideal place to sit and wait for his would-be killer to arrive.

It didn't take long. The elevator opened up on the top floor a couple minutes after his initial arrival and the man who'd been following him all night stepped out, lowering his hood for the first time. Upon closer inspection, Caleb noted he appeared to be from one of the Tumala's African branches, as his skin was a fair bit darker, and he was heavily pierced.

"Finally, a moment to ourselves," Caleb declared. "You know, I've gotta say, your stalker game needs work, my friend. My beloved Akane could teach you a thing or two."

The Tumala assassin remained silent, continuing to simply stare at him as if sizing up the teenager. Caleb laughed heartily.

"Oh, come on. You're seriously not gonna ask?" He shrugged. "Alright. I can work with this." Caleb walked up to him and stood straight with his hands in his coat pockets. "Do I at least get to know the name of my executioner?"

"Dabir," the Tumalan answered in a deep, powerful voice.

He nodded approvingly. "Nice, nice." A wicked grin sprouted across his lips. "I must say. It takes guts letting me be the one to pick where and how we do this."

"Overconfidence is the bane of the young," he declared in that same calm, unbothered tone.

"Meanwhile, stubbornness is the bane of the old," Caleb immediately countered. "Speaking of which, how old are you exactly? It's hard to tell."

The stoic man finally smirked and shook his head. "It matters not. All you must know is that within my order, I am considered a true master of my craft. I have personally killed more men than you have spent days on this Earth. Both Kin and unblessed alike."

Caleb whistled in mock impress. "So let me ask you this then. Who was it who sent you? Don't tell me it was Sana's brood. I refuse to believe anyone misses that cradle robber enough to consider attempting a revenge kill."

"I'm here of my own accord," he explained. "There is an open contract on the one who managed to kill a Rosalian Elder, and I intend to collect."

"Yeah, I'm willing to bet that's gonna change when you inevitably fail. In fact, if you're as powerful as you claim to be, then I'm willing to bet by killing you, my girlfriend and I can enjoy some peace and quiet for a while."

"I am not ignorant to your power, Red Lister," Dabir assured. "All the same, you've no hope of leaving this rooftop alive. Your power will be mine through the blood or the blade."

He removed his jacket, revealing a harness from which hung multiple UV lights, a handgun, as well as two stainless steel sabers on his back. Dabir drew the sabers, and his eyes began to glow after that.

"Along with your head."

Caleb's eyes began to glow as well as he bit down on his right wrist before ripping it away, channeling his power and summoning a ruby pommeled cutlass to his right hand. They moved as a blur of shadows, speed, and strength augmented by hematic potency. Sparks flew from the ends of their blades like the fireworks sounding off behind them as they parried each other's steel. What felt like several minutes of dueling to them, but was in reality only a few short seconds, passed before they broke away and spoke again.

"Your reflexes are incredible," Dabir admitted. "And your fencing is most impressive."

"Thank you," Caleb responded boastingly. "I had a very expensive childhood."

"All the same, you clearly lack a Master's finesse with your weapon," he insisted before twirling his sabers. "Whereas these weapons are an extension of my very being. They have weathered the storm through centuries of...."

"Yeah, you know what? You can go ahead and just skip the overdramatic these weapons are as much a part of me as my own arms speech. I really don't care, grandpa."

Dabir glared at him murderously.

"As much as you assassins brag and boast about your prowess in combat, you seem to be willfully ignorant of simple math. And the numbers here, you'll find, do not add up."

They charged again, with Caleb easily deflecting and parrying each of his strikes as he methodically cut through the straps of his opponent's harness.

"You have centuries of combat training for which I can't even begin to comprehend," he admitted, continuing to dodge, parry, and counter each swing of his opponent's blades. "Meanwhile, I have a total of four years of fencing lessons under a private instructor going for me."

He dashed away in a blur of shadowy speed. Dabir looked down at his chest to see he was now without his UV lights and handgun.

"So why then?" Caleb asked as he tossed his opponent's weapons over the side of the roof. "Why am I able to not only keep up with you but outmatch you in such a manner?"

Dabir stood up straight and popped his neck, returning to a look of stoic indifference.

"Because of simple math, my friend. My hematic potency is far greater than yours. Meaning I'm faster, and my reflexes are far sharper." He readied his sword again. "That is an immutable law for which no amount of training on Earth can hope to counter."

The assassin narrowed his eyes before preparing for his target's next move.

"Face it, you lost this game of chess the moment you let me choose white while you went with black."

A tense silence hung in the air for a moment before the assassin suddenly lowered his blades and spoke up again.

"Why that metaphor?"

Caleb gave him a confused look. "What do you mean? Why not that metaphor?"

Dabir raised a brow at him in disbelief. "So you're really telling me you don't see anything problematic there? No reason whatsoever you might have wanted to rethink the words choosing white over choosing black."

He had to think about it for far longer than it should have taken him. But eventually, Caleb realized, looking at his opponent, then at himself, then back at his opponent again, his eyes going wide with mortification.

"Oh...Oh! Oh, dear, God!"

"Yeaaaah," Dabir insisted, slightly perturbed.

Caleb raised a hand up placatingly. "Dude, I am so so sorry! That is not how I meant it at all! Look, when I came up with that one, I wasn't expecting my opponent to literally be black!"

"Well, what were you expecting exactly?" he challenged, still offended. "Because it sounds to me like you might be stereotyping my Chapter a bit. You know not all Hashashin are Middle Eastern, right? Just like how not all Vellians, or whatever the fuck you are, are white?"

"I'm telling you, I am so not that guy!" Caleb insisted frantically. "The chess thing was just a...."

"...just a turn of phrase, I get that," Dabir responded. "I'm just saying, you may wanna check yourself next time. Not all of them are gonna be gems, especially in a situation like this."

He groaned woefully. "Can we please just get back to fighting?"

Dabir shook his head insistently. "No, no, I feel like there's an issue that needs to be addressed here. You seem like a respectful kid; I just wanna guide you on a slightly more enlightened path."

Caleb slumped his shoulders while his older opponent started lecturing him on the importance of being 'mindful of the air around him, as he so eloquently put it. Never in his life did he think he'd ever experience the white guilt from another cultist.

"So just be more physically present and conscientious of where you're standing in the conversation next time, and I promise you won't have to worry about a thing going forward. Tolerance is not simply being okay with something's presence. It's respecting it enough to be mindful of your actions and words."

He sighed before scratching his head with the guard of his sword. "While I genuinely appreciate you calling me out on my bullshit, I have to ask. Is there really a point to this? Because a second ago, you were trying to cleave my head off, and I assume once we're done here, you're gonna still try to do that."

A mischievous smirk crept over Dabir's lips. "Well, if I'm being honest, this whole fight up till now has just been one long distraction."

Caleb narrowed his eyes at him. "For what?"

His smirk turned into a wicked grin. It was then Caleb could hear, off in the distance, the sound of a rotary engine cutting through the air. He glanced over his shoulder to see a helicopter heading directly towards them.

"So long as we're sticking with your rather unfortunate choice of metaphor," Dabir continued, his voice taking on that deep dark edge again. "I believe this would be...checkmate?"

The helicopter came to a stop above them, at which point the side door slid open, revealing a giant UV floodlight. The operators on the helicopter aimed it down towards the roof and switched it on. Almost immediately, Caleb felt his powers vanish, the cutlass in his hand crumbling into dust.

"What was it you were telling me?" An evil look formed in his eyes as his smile widened. "About how centuries of combat can't possibly trump raw power."

Caleb slowly backed away.

"So what's your math telling you now, kid?" Dabir taunted as he approached, blades ready to cleave his head clean off his shoulders. "Still feel like running your mouth? Or would you rather just skip that part and go straight to begging for mercy?"

A smile crept over Caleb's face as he began to chuckle knowingly. Dabir scowled at him in annoyance.

"What's so funny?"

"Look, I get the chess metaphor didn't exactly land the way I wanted it to. But it really is appropriate in this situation. Just not for the reason you think."

Dabir narrowed his eyes at him once more.

"See...I was never your real opponent," he admitted. "I'm just a piece on the board in the grand scheme of things. The person you've really been playing against is a woman who, as I've come to learn over this past week, is a fair bit smarter than me. Something that is, oddly enough, both terrifying and a massive turn-on, all at once."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dabir asked in frustration.

Now Caleb was the one grinning. "I wish I could say I came up with this plan. I really do. But that would be disrespectful to the woman I'm dating. So instead of bragging like I usually do. I'm just gonna say this instead."

He pointed to the roof adjacent to them.

"This is what checkmate really looks like."

Dabir turned his head to where he was pointing. On the roof of the building next to the one, they were standing on was a girl in a black and white yukata. Over her shoulder was a makeshift cannon she'd crafted from a fireworks tube stolen right off the display. A wooden poi was being used for the sight, while the handle of a plastic wand had been taped to the underside as a grip.

With a wicked smile, Akane lit her makeshift cannon and took aim directly at the center cabin of the helicopter. The wick burned down before launching a brightly burning mortar. It soared directly into the passenger cabin before exploding in bright lights within the confined space. The interior cabin caught fire, alarms started ringing, the helicopter went into a tailspin, and its passengers were sent screaming to the ground below as it crashed into a fiery heap of twisted metal.

Horrified was nowhere near strong enough a word. Dabir slowly turned his gaze back towards his opponent.

"Oh, and for the record...." Caleb's eyes were glowing, and his full power returned. The cold crimson energy in his palm built up with vitae, turning dark purple. "... she's not white."

"Wait!" Dabir shouted.

There was a bright flash as something hit him center mass. A small self-contained portal to the howling void opened up where his heart used to be. Dabir's body twisted and contorted into a swirling vortex of skin and flesh, sucked into the portal before fizzling into nothing in a flash of smoke.

Peace returned to the rooftop once more as the sound of sirens wailing below filled the air.

"You chose black while I chose white," Caleb mocked himself before cringing. "Gonna be feeling that one for a while."