"I'll only be gone for a short while, Luka."
I wrap my arms around her tightly as she pats my back, tracing small circles on my shoulder blade with one hand as the other grips the god-forsaken letter.
Burying my head into her soft, aquamarine hair, I cry, unshackling my bitter tears. "I can't let you go," I plead redundantly with her, desperate never to leave her arms, never to let her go.
I feel her smile sadly as her grip tightens around me. "You know I have to. Someone needs to go. And with Kaito in the state he's in..."
I remember the last time we went to the hospital to visit Miku's brother. The screams, the threats, the nasty words erupting from his mouth...he was in no condition to go and fight for our country.
With him out of the picture, Miku was the only one from her family eligible to go and fight.
Her hand leaves my back, and, before I can protest, it slips into mine, and I feel a warm ring of metal press against my burning skin. I look down at it, and another tear escapes the corner of my eye. Wordlessly, I slide the silver band onto my ring finger and wrap my arms around her body again.
I clutch her closer to me as I hear the clock draw closer, closer, closer to our final moments together. "I can't let you go," I repeat into her shoulder as I sob, knotting my fingers in her hair.
She returns to rubbing my back in circles, resting her left temple against my head. "We'll be together again before you know it. Trust me."
I stay silent, the persistent ticking of the clock looming over us. She holds me, her melancholy gaze cast downwards, as I hope and pray for our reunion.
She leaves with September, the remains of summer falling as she turns her uniformed back towards me and walks onto the deck of the ship. I grip the sleeves of my pink kimono as I watch her retreat, soldiers dressed just like her filing on board as their loved ones weep at their departure.
I watch the ship drift away, imagining her gazing at the paper and quill I had left in her small bag as the other soldiers inevitably try to make conversation with her. I trust that she will keep her promise to write to me no less than once a month with her life; I know I will keep her letters forever, treasuring them like a lifeline, my only connection to the one I love and adore with all my heart.
I am the last one standing at the dock after the ship leaves, all the other families already starting to resign to the fact that they will have one less loved one by their sides for the foreseeable future.
I rest my chin on my folded arms as I gaze at the ship, which is increasingly fading into the horizon.
My mind drifts to what Miku is doing right now. Is she writing me my first letter? Is she reminiscing about our life together? Is she gazing right back at me from her quarters on the ship?
...Or is she in the messdeck, feasting joyously? Is she laughing bountifully with her new comrades? Have I slipped her mind already?
Sighing, I push myself away from the steel railings as I banish the dreadful thoughts from my mind. I feel an overwhelming drowsiness envelop me, and I stifle the yawn that threatens to spill out. I stagger home, eyes downcast, and fall into the empty bed, curled up and facing an eerily empty pillow. The tears fall unrestrainedly as I enter a blissful dream, a dream where Miku's warm arm is around my waist as I sleep.
The message came almost two years to the day Miku left.
I carefully place the twenty-fourth piece of paper into the empty biscuit tin, smiling as I thought over the contents of her latest letter.
I snuck off to the galleys to teach Rin and Len how to sing another song today, she wrote, the slightly rushed nature of her characters betraying her enthusiasm. I hope you get the opportunity to meet them one day.
I smile as I take out my prized pen, dipping the nib in the majestic blue ink as I carefully lower it towards the parchment. I pause a fraction of an inch above the cream material, contemplating how I should start the letter, even though I have been planning this moment since I delivered my last letter to the message carriers.
My Dearest Miku,
I have dearly missed your gentle smile over these past two years. The memories we shared together before you had to leave are invaluable, and it is with deep regret that we have not been able to meet in the flesh due to the unfortunate circumstances that have befallen us.
I wish to inform you that your letters have not yet failed to brighten up my darkest days and I know they shall never fail to do so. I am very glad to hear that you are to be permanently stationed, for it means that we can share correspondence more often, and I can hopefully provide you with some of the joy I feel at having my beloved inform me of her life at sea. Perhaps this change means the war is finally drawing to a close? Theories aside, I can assure you that I am doing just fine; the house is doing good, the money is coming over splendidly, and Kaito is thriving in the new home he has recently been moved to.
Of course, my current life cannot compare to how our life was a mere two years ago, for I sleep alone at night, where I can only imagine your loving eyes opposite mine. Alas, fret not, my dear; I am sure we shall be reunited in the near future, and I shall feel whole once more.
My deepest fear is that your kind features should fade from my mind forever. I know that we will see each other again soon, and I anticipate the next time we shall communicate with great enthusiasm.
Forever yours,
Luka
I fold the letter up into thirds before slipping the delicate paper into a crisp white envelope, which I close with Miku's own wax seal. Carefully, I transfer the address of Miku's whereabouts from her previous letter onto the exterior of the envelope, my hand shaking from excitement. I quickly finish copying up the address and I hasten to collect my purse to head to the dock before the ship left to deliver the message to where Miku was currently stationed.
Just as I reach to pull my coat off the hatstand do I hear a quiet knock on the front door. My hand wavers in the air as I quickly turn towards the entrance, wondering who could possibly be on the other side. Gently, I set the letter down and approach the door, opening the door a crack.
"Hello?" I ask, not meeting the eyes of the person opposite me, instead choosing to gaze down at their shoes. I still when I see the two pairs of black formal shoes that greet me.
"Megurine Luka?" asks a strong, unfamiliar female voice in a soft, polite tone, and I abruptly bring my head up. I see two women in clad in military uniforms: the lady in front has short, brown hair beneath a navy blue beret, the other with waist-length blonde hair and cerulean eyes that look everywhere but at mine.
It can't be...
I stare at them, my heart thumping in my chest, my lungs screaming at me to breathe, that it won't be too bad, that everything will be okay, that they're only here to inform me on the current happenings of Miku's regiment, that they'll reassure me that she's fine and healthy and alive-
"Do...you mind if we come in?" asks the brunette, sorrow in her piercing brown eyes. Weakly, I step out of the way and stumble towards the settee, vaguely hearing the door creak open, then click shut, before the muffled shuffle of feet against carpet as they follow my path. I sit up, trying my best to throw on a composed front as I try to smile welcomingly at the two women, wringing my hands in my lap.
"S-So," I stutter, "what brings you here today?"
I catch the blonde woman glancing at her partner, a look of...anger on her features. Why would she be angry?
The brown-haired woman draws in a breath, and my world shatters.
"I regret to inform you that Seaman Hatsune Miku has been reported missing in the city of Crypton in the early hours of the morning after a gas attack on the base at which she was stationed. SN Hatsune was not among the injured recovered after the attack; however, given the circumstances, we thought it would be best to inform you in this manner. On behalf of the Navy, I extend my deepest condolences to you in this time of great loss."
I am already leaning forward onto my elbows, the life drained from my skin. My whole body is tense, and I cannot move. My eyes flicker to the brunette - she is watching me calmly as I gape back at her - before going to the blonde haired woman, whose look of anger has been taken over by a look of...curiosity?
Her words swirl and swirl and swirl around in my mind, each bumping into place as the information sinks in and links together.
Miku.
Missing.
Morning.
Crypton.
Dead.
Shakily, I draw in a breath and sit up. I waver before I ask one of the thousands of questions that pop into my mind.
"...How many other people died?"
The brown-haired woman looks up from the wooden clipboard in her hands, untangling her fingers from between the loose paper. "It is thought that, of the one-hundred-and-thirty-nine soldiers stationed at the base at the time of the attack, one-hundred-and-twenty-eight have died."
My heart jolts. One-hundred-and-twenty-eight people dead.
"What about the other eleven?" I ask.
The woman fiddles with the paper as she thinks through her reply. "Eight of our people have been recovered from the base and are currently seeking medical treatment for their injuries. Three, unfortunately including SN Hatsune, could not be accounted for, and are presumed to be missing on the grounds that we could not locate any evidence to show that they had perished."
I nod slowly, the news not quite sinking in yet.
...Miku.
Miku is missing.
The words...they don't fit together correctly in my mind.
"Miku is missing," I say out loud, the sentence extremely foreign and unnatural as the words stumble off my tongue.
The brown-haired woman nods. "We are deeply sorry for this unfortunate turn of events."
I look down at my hands, at the silver band that adorns my ring finger. I feel for the little pattern embossed on the surface of the ring: two dashes closest to me, and four dots on the top of the ring.
I run my fingers over the pattern in the warm metal as I nod at the woman's empty words. When she told me the news, she sounded so calm, so robotic, like it was just another days' work.
Which, most likely, it was.
And then, it hits me.
Miku is gone.
She is not coming back.
I won't see her smile again.
I won't hear her laugh again.
I won't hold her in my arms again.
Her promise was all for nought.
I feel the sobs wrack my body, leaving in one continuous wave of tears and wails. The look of her eyes as they reflect in the moonlight is all I can see; her gentle laugh is all I can hear. The feel of her warm hand in mine is not real enough as I fight to recall the taste of her lips on mine.
As I curl up into a ball on the sofa, I sense a presence sitting next to me. "Masuda, what are you doing?" questions the brown-haired woman, scrambling to her feet. "This is against the-"
"Shut up, Meiko," interrupts the blonde woman, right before I feel a comforting pair of arms hold me as I shake and quiver and sob.
I wrap my arms tightly around the woman, burying my head into her coarse hair. I am taken back to a point in time two years prior; yet, as I clutch this stranger who is tracing small circles along my shoulder blade, all I can think about is how it cannot compare to how her touch differed in an unimaginable number of ways to Miku's.
Not six months later does news come about that the war had been won in our favour.
Cherry blossoms flutter through the air as people hold jubilant celebrations in the streets, at home, at work, and at school, during a national holiday declared for a day of festivities. Kids play amongst the trees as their parents chatter eagerly about how the economy will soon be on the up-and-up, while shop owners decorate their windows with bright posters advertising the beginning of a new era. Sweet and savoury scents mingle pleasantly as people share delicious delights with their friends and relatives, bringing smiles to everyone's faces. After three years of pain, torture and rationing, the curse has finally been lifted, and a weight taken off the shoulders of all the people of the country.
Yet, as I sit on my sofa at home, the curtains drawn and the lights off, the only thing in my mind is the regret at how Miku is not with me to experience the celebrations.
I know she would have enjoyed it greatly; she had always been one to go out and talk to people, while I had been the quieter one of our pair. She would have been in her element, playing with the kids as they play games in the playgrounds, their small hands drenched in sticky syrup from the sweet cakes being sold at the numerous stalls in the street.
The days pass, the festivities remaining in full swing for a week after the announcement that the war had ended. Eventually, when only the odd decoration remained hung in a storefront, I try to return to the job Miku and I had shared before the war - teaching young children how to sing - but the pain that erupts in my chest when our students ask "Where's Miss Miku?" with a concerned pout on their young faces, and for me to have to tell them that she is not coming back, is too much for me to bare.
I know I cannot return to my old life while I am still here. After all, my old life included - no, it was - Miku, and she is no longer with me. So, I decide to move away from the reminders, away from the past, away from Miku, and out of the country in which my current life resides.
It is a hard choice deciding which city to move to. No matter how many cities there are to pick in places all over the world, I keep finding myself going back to check house prices in one city:
Crypton.
It is impossible. It is ludicrous. It is mad. I want to get away from Miku, so I move to the city where she disappeared? My brain grapples with this cruel juxtaposition of desires, screaming out its logic in a vain attempt at bringing me back to the real world.
...Yet, in my heart, there is hope. A singular strand of red hope is what is pushing me to pack my bags, bid my last farewell to all my friends, and move halfway across the world.
And so I do just that as the leaves begin to fall from the trees come Septembers' end.
Crypton is one of the busiest cities in the world, being a world centre of business and tourism, with hundreds of thousands of people leaving and arriving with each passing day. People of all different cultures resided there; there would be at least a thousand different people who even slightly resembled Miku there.
Never mind even humouring the chance that Miku was roaming around Crypton somewhere; was she even still alive? After all, the brown-haired soldier that had informed her of Miku's disappearance had treated it like a death, even notifying her of it as if she had been killed in the attack.
I banish the thoughts from my mind as I drop my two suitcases into the bedroom of my new house. The Navy had compensated me for my loss very generously - I had been allotted a healthy monthly allowance on behalf of the government, as if they were trying to fill the void left in my heart with money and wealth, even though they fully well knew their efforts were futile - providing me with enough money to buy a nice house in the suburbs, with enough remaining to do me just fine until I secure a solid job.
I contemplate what kind of job I should I should pursue as I hang my dresses up in the wardrobe. I consider finding a local primary school and working with the children there; or, I could teach music privately like I did with Miku...
I smile sadly, remembering how Miku's unorthodox teaching methods would resonate clearly with the kids - while rendering our adult students bewildered - as I walk downstairs and into my new kitchen, peeking into the wooden cupboards and running my fingers along the stone worktops. Miku would have loved this kitchen. She loved cooking, and the kitchen here is leagues better than the outdated, cramped one we shared before.
I peek inside the larder and see it upsettingly (but expectedly) barren. The beginnings of hunger start to rumble in my stomach and I decide to find the market before the tiredness of the day renders me bedridden. Taking my purse and keys from the tabletop, I leave the house, stepping into the serene autumn sun of Crypton. I follow the road as I recall how to get to the nearby market from my house, staying on the main road as I go.
Eventually, I find the market: a quiet place with only a couple of stall owners selling all the essential wares one could need. I am first taken by surprise by the lack of people here; though, I reason, it is a market on the outskirts of town on a weekday, so perhaps it is normal for it not to be bustling with people. Warming to the friendly atmosphere, I approach the fruit stand first before slowly moving around the market, buying a few days worth of food for myself, along with any other goods I do not think I have at the house.
As I near a stall with a joyful-looking man with purple hair selling swords, I hear a faint voice singing from inside the labyrinth in which the market was situated in front of. I pause.
The voice is familiar.
...No.
It's not.
It can't be.
It can't-
"I'm sorry, ma'am?"
The man with the long purple hair from the sword stand is right in front of my face and I gasp, staggering backwards as my cardboard box of goods falls to the floor, its contents spilling out in all directions.
He flinches back, before hastily falling to his knees in a desperate bid to collect my quickly rolling-away goods. I come back to reality, exhaling a curse as I assist him, grabbing all the items I can from the stone beneath us and piling them into the crate. Within a minute or so, most of my goods are back in the box, and he is hoisting it up for me.
"T-Thank you..." I croak, before clearing my throat and falling silent, seeking out the voice I could swear I just heard.
The man beams at me, the sun glinting off his teeth. "It's not a problem, ma'am." He adjusts the box in his arms. "Can I help you take this back to your home?" he offers, nodding his head towards me with an attempt at a dashing smile. "Can't let a fair maiden like you carry something like this all the way back to where you live."
I shake my head slightly, looking behind him as I try to spot a strand of teal amongst the hedges. "Um, I am grateful, but...did you happen to hear a voice a few minutes ago?"
He raises an eyebrow, chuckling as he speaks. "I'm pretty sure an angel walked in here just a bit ago. Soft pink hair, deep blue eyes, wearing a white, flowing dress...sound familiar?"
I ignore his insultingly blatant flirting, standing on the balls of my feet to try and see over the hedge, but my efforts are fruitless. "I swear, I heard a voice from over there..."
"Oh, that?" He laughs while pointing his thumb behind him, the other hand precariously balancing the box. "She appeared a few months back with these two blonde twins in Navy uniforms. Kept saying she couldn't be found by the Army guys, and, with the state they were in, we could see why, so we gave 'em food and stuff 'cos they looked a bit pitiful. She wants to stay hidden, but she keeps singing every day in the middle of that maze. The song's about a lost lover or something-"
"What does she look like?" I urge. "The girl who sings?"
"Oh, she doesn't compare to you," he states, falling silent for a few seconds before winking. "She's got long, light-blue hair and blue eyes. Kinda short too - like, two, maybe three inches shorter than you." He gives me the information and my heart stops beating in my chest. "What, do you know her or something?"
My head bounces up and down as I feel the box and pull it out of his arms and into mine. "How...how do I get to the centre of the maze?" I ask, searching for an entrance.
He seems to finally pick up on the gravity of the situation, and tries to take the box out of my arms. "I can come and show you if you want-"
"N-No, just tell me." I let him take the box from me.
"Uh, you go in from over there" - he points to behind the cake stand - "and you walk clockwise, taking every left towards the centre of the circle."
I mutter out a few words of appreciation as I jog towards the entrance of the labyrinth, the walls of leaves looming over me as I turn to my right and start walking.
I take every left as they come up, desperately praying that the man was being truthful in his instructions. The tall hedges betray nothing on the whereabouts of the eye of the maze, and I grow increasingly frustrated as the voice nears and nears, yet there is not a hint of teal in sight. For all I know, Miku could be a mere five metres away from me, with a stupid bush is obscuring her from me...
Finally, I reach the centre.
Her back is towards me, her hair tied in two limp pigtails hanging from just above the nape of her neck. Her hair is shorter than I remember it; of course, she would have had to cut it to a reasonable length in the Navy, and must have only had the chance to regrow it back out these last few months. She is wearing a black dress not very dissimilar to my own with black flats, almost definitely to combat the heat, something she has never been a big fan of. Her voice is soft and gentle, yet it cuts through the faint whistle of the wind with ease.
Her left hand drops to her side and I see the silver band on her ring finger and her thumb runs over it and she's turning around and before I know it the singing stops and it's Miku and she's looking at me with her pretty eyes and her mouth is open and she's dropped her other hand to the side and she's looking at me and she's still and she's silent and she's staring at me and there are tears in her eyes and it's Miku it's Miku it's Miku after all-
"Luka?" she utters, disbelief clouding her words.
I nod, and I feel as though I am about to faint. She stares at me, her face scrunched up with incredulity.
Cautiously, I take a step towards her, the crisp air between us thick with anticipation as the three-year-long gap between us starts to close.
I cannot take the tension any longer and my small steps burst into a furious sprint, the autumn leaves crunching beneath my feet as I bound across the eye of the maze and into her arms. Her stature is too small for my leap and we fall to the floor, her small frame pinned between me and a bed of red and brown.
"Luka..." she whispers as I bury my head into her shoulder, my tears glistening on the soft material of her dress.
I nod, clutching her with all my might, my soul, my love, determined to never let her go again. I run my fingers through her hair as I hold her to my chest with my forearm, gripping her head as she gently rubs small circles on my back.
One hand on the small of her back, the other on the back of her head, I pull us up into an upright position, drawing her lips to mine as I do so. I pull her into me, keeping her lips on mine, never wanting this moment to end.
We part for air and I see her face, her beautiful, picturesque, perfect face up close once more, and I dive in for another kiss. Her hand sneaks from the back of my head to my cheek, her other hand quickly following suit as we lean into each other.
She pulls back and I whine at the loss of contact, bringing my head closer to her. Her small hand is against my shoulder, impeding me, and I cannot bring my lips to hers.
Dread courses through my veins. I feel my jaw wobble as I struggle to make a coherent sound, my eyes blurred with the tears I was so sure were never to be shed, no matter what that small, pessimistic part of my brain tried to tell me.
She doesn't want me. Too much time has passed. A foreign soldier has swept her away, stolen the delicate weight of her heart, as I blindly gripped onto the dangling red thread she had tied to it when she left on that damned ship three years ago-
A slim finger taps my chin upwards, the deadweight of my head urged into looking straight into her crying blue eyes, the only light in a sea of fallen leaves.
She's smiling.
"You trusted me," she whispers, her eyes fluttering shut as she relaxes back into the autumn colours surrounding her. Her hair cascading over her shoulder, she turns her head to the left and sighs, her soft breath tickling the silver band adorning my ring finger. "And now, I'll never leave your side."
A/N: And there you have it :D
Thanks to CelestialFeathers999 for initially giving me the idea of lovers meeting after a war or something like that ':D
Thanks for reading! :D
