The smell of the sea was what brought Integral into visiting this particular zone of the city. It was a familiar sense that overwhelmed her senses as nauseous could be. It was the scent of nostalgia that she missed her motherland and frustrated her immensely to have been away from it for months. She couldn’t even spare a thought that would boil her blood in anger. Nevertheless, they would pay; the knight would exact her vengeance somehow.
Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing was not in a forgiving mood. She had been taken from a war in which she signed the death warrant of thousands. It was too late for remorse. There was no means possible to wash out completely the aroma of death around her, she knew, it was faint, but it clung to her as if it was sweat.
I finished earlier than I thought, she thought while Integra walked out the restaurant, fishing a cigar out of her pocket and glancing at her wrist watch. The seafood had been exceptional for an American meal and she had, for first time, able to finish her lunch. Since her arrival, she hadn’t been feeding properly. The stress, the insomnia, the feeling this was all a hallucination haunted her. She dismissed this quickly, but her restless couldn’t help but increase day by day. None of the occult books she had read and the rituals she already knew were able to help her to return.
The sea breeze blew stronger and Integra was forced to tuck her blonde hair behind her ear before it tangled with her round spectacles. A group of teenagers passed by with their colourful fashion and mirthful laughter, the knight caught a brief glimpse of them as she paused to light her cigar. They weren’t much younger than her, but she looked older than twenty-two with her double-breasted black suit and serious features now fixed on a cross “don’t think about it” expression; from her aristocratic poise to her androgynous mannerisms. She had one hour until her chauffer returned for her.
Integral decided it was a good moment to stretch her legs and walked to the pier. She recalled liking these sites when she was younger and her father lived, before Alucard appeared, before she killed her uncle, before her holy mission consumed her. She remembered how she was fascinated by the fishermen’s tales that captured her imagination. I’m too old for that, she reminded herself with some amusement. Nobody will indulge an adult woman with their unimpressive feats.
Either way, this was far better than staying in the Mansion and dusting herself. Integra looked up and spotted a lonely old man leaning on the railing watching the water. He wasn’t a fisherman for the lack of equipment. Perhaps he was an old sailor or another nostalgic person enjoying a sunny day.