I do not own Ergo Proxy. This is a piece of fiction that is not part of the original work - and I do not get paid for it. Likewise, I do not own "February Song". It belongs to Josh Groban. And I do not get paid for using it either.
"February Song" by Josh Groban
February Song
Where has that old friend gone
Lost in a February song
Tell him it won't be long
Til he opens his eyes, opens his eyes
Where is that simple day
Before colors broke into shades
And how did I ever fade
Into this life, into this life
When she first awoke - like a dream from a delicate shell - there had been only ecstasy. Joy in the new colours that burst before her eyes like so many fairy lights... Something more to life given to her and opening doors to worlds that she never could have comprehended before...
On her knees, hands clasped, she had received that vision. And like a child - courageous, naive and believing - she had pursued that dream to the end. Aboard that vessel with Vincent and Re-al, she had found what she felt was the most important.
No longer did she stand in the shadows - never achieving the desired place in that woman's heart. Only the apple of her daddy's eye... she went on a journey - and always hoped to return. To tell him of what she had found. What she wanted to bring back to him... To share with him the new melodies in her heart...
Maybe they could revisit the mall and ride the escalator as they should have - all those years ago... Ride the escalator, clasping hands with heart balloons in their hands - and above their hands, the clock would tunefully pass the time as it should. Order would reign and things would reach the place they should have reached.
When she first awoke - like a dream from a delicate shell - there had been only ecstasy. There was joy and colours and rabbits and wonderful new things to discover... But some things you can only leave once - and in the leaving, there is no returning to the old order...
When she first awoke - she found a dream to follow and left her Daddy behind...
And I never want to let you down
Forgive me if I slip away
When all that I've known is lost and found
I promise you I, I'll come back to you one day
But now, Pino is older. And as she looks over the wasteland, her eyes, although still bright, hold a new light of understanding. Many years have past since the downfall of Romdeau... Returning here, with Kristeva, seems like full circle to the little AutoRiev. Kristeva is holding flowers in her hand - head bowed. She, too, feels the sadness of the place. The agony and desperation burnt into the soil and metal.
The dome has long since been looted and left for empty. Metal and wood and plastic were stripped away - the rest left to fall into decay - and the destructive fingers of rust. Underneath the Dome, as though it were something to be hidden, a small graveyard is spread. And somewhere, in the line of stakes is a simple pole with a tiny plaque. The red and blue crayons have faded in the harsh weather of the desert-like region. Leaning forward, Pino scrawls his name again on the plaque as Kristeva had taught her.
R.A.U.L.
Pino lowers her flowers. Kristeva also sets hers down. They are small spindly things - and they don't seem a fitting tribute to the quiet man who rests in this deserted land.
Yes. Moments of regret are so tangible - like pieces of string or grass slipping through your fingers, Pino thinks.
"If I had my way... I would have..." Kristeva falters.
"I know..." Pino whispers, hand tightening on the taller AutoRiev's fingers.
"They tell me that... there are ancient stories of life going on after death... perhaps this will be true for your father, Pino," Kristeva reminds the young girl-child gently.
"But I will never join him," Pino replies simply. "It will never be the same."
"No," Kristeva says, remembering starkly a large desk, a spacious room and a man in a chair staring out over a beautiful city. "No."
Kristeva had taken her to the grave a year after the Destruction - but Pino hadn't really understood. After all, Daddy had gone on trips before - and returned well enough.
But now... Pino understands.
And she regrets.
Morning is waking up
And sometimes it's more than just enough
When all that you need to love
Is in front of your eyes
She could have looked farther. She could have looked less innocently at a falling world and instead seen destruction for what it was. She could have asked her father to leave with her. After all, in those dark eyes - had not been condemnation - but perplexity - and betrayal, perhaps.
Kristeva had said that her father had died happy, holding a picture that she had drawn for him... Stabbed through with glass. She had been there... she had found Pino on the strength of it...
But still, Pino feels the regret deep down. Never before has she felt like this. Even as she remembers the day that the woman had rejected for a better, 'more living' thing - Pino feels no sadness - but pity for the woman who had so desperately wanted a child. Vincent's agony... Re-al's trials... Pino feels empathy for them, understanding that the journey to enlightenment is always a hard path.
Raul...
Daddy... was different...
And for the earnest man who wanted the truth and died because of all the misdirection - who had been toyed with by the gods... who had been used and cast aside... who had been abandoned by the young girl he had held dear...
For him, Pino feels true sorry. Kneeling at the grave, she sits there - unnaturally still - for many hours, comforted by Kristeva. Pino closes her eyes and feels the tears fall down her face. In her heart.
Before leaving the silent land, the girl-child plays her harmonica and, the wind blows the notes away. She wonders if her Daddy will be able to hear her... and remember... and forgive...
She wonders if she too will find that secret door and find him for all time... if she will awake and break out of the delicate shell of a dream and find new joy with him again.
Where has that old friend gone
Lost in a February song
Tell him it won't be long
Til he opens his eyes
Opens his eyes
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