Welcome to Icelight, Version 2.0! -sweatdrop- My best friend MaraJadeblu recommended that I reformat this fic and juggle the chapters into a different order, and I took her advice. Not like you'd really care, but...well, anyways.
I suddenly noticed that there were nearly no KKJ fics out there. So I decided to write one. Anyways, I've had this character rattling around my brain for about two years, so I decided I might as well use her for something. So here goes nothing...
Disclaimers—I don't own Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne or any characters. They're owned by whoever owns them—I don't remember who at the moment. However, new stuff and characters are mine. So don't steal or I'll have to hunt you down and, um, do evil things. -bright grin-
Italics are thoughts.
Anou: "Um..."
Mou: Something you say
when you're exasperated; like "Jeez!"
Oyasumi: "Sweet
dreams"
Itai: "Ow"
Enjoy!
Icelight
Chapter One
By Windsong
Written 4 May 2003
Chiaki looked over at Maron again. She looked forward anxiously, her hands twisting into her dress. She was well-dressed for the occasion, and had even gone so far as to wear jewelry and makeup. I guess she wants to make a good impression.
Maron caught his gaze and gave him a shaky smile. He reached over to grab one of her hands and gently massage the tension away from her fingers. "You're nervous."
Miyako crossed her arms. "Wouldn't you be?" She huffed impatiently.
"Well, yes, but—"
"Then don't—"
"Miyako, it's okay," Maron said soothingly. The detective grumbled a little but sat back further in her seat.
Without warning, Maron asked him, "What if—it wasn't just the demons? What if they really don't care about me..."
Chiaki smiled at her. "There's a quote I heard once. 'All parents love their children.' Don't worry. They wouldn't have come all the way here if they didn't love you, right?"
"Now arriving, TokyoAir flight 273 at Terminal 5," a voice said over the sound system.
"That's them!" Miyako cried excitedly, jumping up and half-dragging Maron in her rush, leaving Chiaki to run after them.
More and more people appeared. At each Maron would stiffen with anticipation, then slump a little when she realized it wasn't them. Her brown eyes looked more and more disappointed as more people came out of the dark tunnel that connected the plane to the terminal, until the flow had slowed to a crawl and nearly stopped.
"I—guess they didin't come after all," she said softly. "It's okay, they were probably busy or something, and—" her voice cracked, and she looked down as Chikai reached for her. "It's okay," she whispered, as if to herself. She didn't react to Chiaki's arms around her, or his voice whispering soothingly into her ear. "It's all right—"
Out of the tunnel stepped a not-so-young couple. Their faces had more wrinkles, and their hair a little more faded—the man's hair has started silvering, even. But they were nearly exactly the same as Maron's photograph, old and faded by age and secret tears.
She knew.
"Papa? Mama?" She said, her voice trembling a little. She sounded exactly like she had when they had left her.
The couple looked up at her voice and searched the crowd. "Maron?" the man asked. "Maron, is that you?"
"Where are you?" The woman called.
Chiaki let her go as she flew towards her parents. "Mama! Papa!" She cried as she nearly glomped them both. She held them, and she couldn't stop tears from falling. She had never even dared to hope that they would ever ever come back for her—yet here they were. It was true. They had come back. "I missed you," she sobbed, burying her face in a shirt. They held her tightly, as if trying to make up for all those years they had never hugged her never helped her never listened talked to cared loved in a single endless moment.
"Oh, my child, we missed you too," her mother murmured into her hair.
"We love you, Maron," her father said. "We're so sorry..."
"No, it's okay," she said, voice muffled by the shirt, laughing even though tears shone on her face. "It's all right."
"Oh, that's good," her father said in relief as her mother began to pull away from her.
"W-what? Why're you—"
"Dearest, this is only a connecting flight," her mother said, smiling at her. "We have to hurry if we want to catch the next plane..."
"Y-you're not...staying? Here?" With me?
"Oh, no," her father laughed. "Stay here? With you? Maron, we love you, but not that much."
"We're going to be late—" her mother kissed her cheek, a light peck that gave nothing and demanded nothing. "It was nice seeing you, dear."
Her father patted her on the head, a hearty, patronizing smile on his face. "Nice seeing you, Maron-chan. We'll continue to send you money, okay?"
Her mother rested her hand on her husband's arm as they began to walk away. "Oh, don't feel bad, dear," she said gaily. "We'll visit you in a few years or so, if we have time. We're very busy people, you know. We found a little bit of time for you, and considering our schedules that really shows how much we love you! Do you know what some people would do to get the amount of time you had with us? In fact, it was lucky we were able to see you at all!" She waved, and they blended into the crowd, exactly like all the other couples hurring to catch their flight.
Maron stared after them even though she couldn't see them anymore. Then she crumpled to her knees.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry.
She wanted to curl up and die.
Fin's worried voice called out to her, "Maron! MARON!"
Tiny little fists beat her, stopped. Sudden water soaked her to the skin. Maron shot upright, coughing and crying. Her fingers trembled as she scraped her soaked bangs out of her eyes and wiped away her tears. She forced herself to stop crying, even though her shoulders shook from the effort and a headache threatened from the strain.
"Maron! Maron, what's wrong? Maron!" The small angel floated before her, distress clear on her features.
"Fin...what day is today?" Her voice sounded cold and nothing like herself, choked with tears she refused to shed and fragmented dreams that refused to leave.
"Anou...Tuesday, I think. Maron, are you okay?"
Tuesday. They're coming on Saturday. It wasn't real. It's all right. It didn't happen...it's okay...they might still love me...
"Just a bad dream," Maron whispered.
"Want to talk about it?"
It didn't happen. It was only a dream. It didn't happen. They're coming in four days. Four more days. It wasn't real. It was only a dream. Not real. Maron dredged up a smile from somewhere and pasted it on her face. "Not really. I"m already forgetting. I just need some air." She got to her feet shakily and walked out onto the balcony.
Maron looked out. If there was one thing she loved, it was the view. She usually focused on the people living out their lives as they walked down her street, but tonight, the heart of the city caught her eye. It glowed, sparkled like fireworks, glittered like a disco ball, shimmered like a mirage. She swore she could see each separate building, each individually outlined and accented by light and shadow alike—for the two worked togehter and complimented one another this night. But at the same time it looked so far away that it was just a gloriously bright blur. It gave her a feeling of unreality, a sense of dizziness as if she had spun too much, a sense of giddiness like she has looked over a too-tall cliff's edge. She fell in love with the city all over again.
Fin pouted as she followed her outside. "Mou, Maron, you're a terrible liar."
She clutched the railing, half-afraid she would fall into the city's brilliance, and chuckled at the angel's remark. "Am I really that transparent?"
"Clear as glass," a new voice laughingly replied. Maron jerked out of the spell the city had placed on her and looked to the right.
There was Chiaki, standing in profile, his blue hair artistically ruffled by the warm night wind and his face illuminated by the moon's weak light. He turned his gaze from the city and smiled at her.
"Chiaki!" Her voice was full of happy surprise and her face lit up with a smile.
"Ohayo, Maron," he replied.
"The sun hasn't risen yet," Fin protested.
"But it's morning," he countered. "Look—" he showed her his watch, which announced that it was 1:24 AM.
Fin just looked confused.
"Never mind," he sighed.
"What are you doing awake?" Maron asked.
"Enjoying the view. No, not that one!" He cried, waving his hands as Fin fluffed up in rage and looked ready to take him apart despite her small size. "The city, the city!"
Ignoring Fin, she continued, "Couldn't sleep?"
"Yeah. Bad dream?"
She nodded.
"Chiaki," a sleepy voice moaned, "when're you going back to bed?" Access stuck his head outside. "Ooh, Fin-chan!" He zoomed towards her, suddenly awake. "How I've—"
She knocked him head-over-heels through the air. "Don't even THINK about it!"
"Chiaki," Maron asked abruptly, "Do all parents love their children?"
Fin broke off the glare she was giving Access and turned to her in surprise. "Of course!" she said instantly.
She ignored Fin for the moment, keeping her gaze fixed on Chiaki as his face settled into one of deep thought.
She must have had a bad dream about her parents not loving her again, he reasoned, and felt a surge of sympathy for her. He wanted to protect her, but he couldn't, not from this. She would have to defeat this enemy with her own strength and on her own terms. But he could—and would—support her. And no matter what, she deserved the truth, so he thought a moment before giving his answer. "There are a lot of people who would answer no to your question," He began slowly. "There are a lot of parents who don't act like they do. They abuse and abandon their children. But I think that all parents do love their children. It might be just a little bit, and it might be hidden under drugs or alcohol or rage, or hate for something else. The parent may hate their husband or wife and associate the child with that hate. The parent might hate the circumstances they are in, and blame it on the child. And there are lots of other things that make parents act like they don't love their children. But underneath all that, all parents really do love their children. They might hate what they think the child represents, but they don't actually hate the child itself."
Her vision turned inwards at his answer. Chiaki was content to let her think, and turned back to the city. The quiet stayed for a long time. It was an easy, comfortable silence, one that rested quietly in the air instead of crawling down their spines and forcing them to say anything to chase it away.
Until finally a loud—and overly theatrical—yawn shattered it. "Chiaki, I don't know what's wrong with you, but I'm tired! Aren't you going to sleep?" Access whined.
Maron jerked, surprised out of her thoughts. "Well, we do have school tomorrow," she said with a small, tired smile. "I think I'm going back to bed. It's getting chilly out here anyway."
Chiaki stretched. "You're right. Oyasumi, Maron."
Maron smiled, blushing a little. With him to dream of, I'm sure they will be!
They were almost inside when he heard Maron say softly, "Chiaki?"
He stopped to listen.
"Thanks."
He smiled. I don't think she'll ever know truly how much I love her. "Anytime," he replied easily.
- - - - -
After Maron hit her pillows the next thing she knew Miyako was banging on her door. "MARON! MARON, WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE—AGAIN! IF YOU DON'T COME OUT RIGHT NOW—"
"I'm up, Miyako, I'm up!" She yelled at the door, falling out of bed. She rushed around, skipped breakfast, left her hair loose, and put on her school uniform. Miyako scolded her all the way to the stairs, down the stairs, and out of the courtyard. Chiaki just laughed as he ran beside them.
"Ohayo, Maron," was all he said.
"Miyako, keep going, I have to tie my shoe," she yelled as she slowed down. Miyako grumbled something but kept running. Chiaki slowed, but she waved at him to go on. He looked at her one last time, shrugged, and ran to catch up with Miyako.
Maybe talking with Chiaki wasn't the smartest move I ever made, she thought. She felt utterly exhausted and her vision was slightly blurry. He didn't seem at all fazed by staying up so late, though, and she felt a tiny twinge of irritation for no apparent reason. She finished tying her shoe and ran to catch up with Chiaki and Miyako.
With a small "oof!" of surprise she plowed headlong into someone. She looked up from where she had been sprawled on the floor, and rubbed her shoulder. "Itai..."
Then she froze.
Lavender eyes the lightest shade of purple she had ever seen looked down at her.Crystal purple... ran through her head illogically. Her vision, blurred as it was, registered nothing but lavender. She was held transfixed by their lucid gaze.
"Excuse me," said a disinterested voice, and then the person turned and continued walking, leaving Maron to pick herself up, dust herself off, and run again.
She shook her head. Mou, that person was so rude!
Chaaaaaaaapter One, people! I finished it! And WOW does my head hurt! Damnit, I should go to sleep, but I'm too hyper to care because I watched lots and lots of anime.
Are they OOC? I hope to God not...this is the first time I've ever written them, so I'm a little less comfortable with them than I am with other characters. Pleeeeeeease tell me whether they're OOC or not!
I know this chapter was seemingly random, but OCs and plot are coming shortly. And any and all grammar corruption (like lack of commas and periods) in this chapter are completely intentional. I MEANT to do that. I'm trying out a couple of new styles, and this chapter showcased simplification and abstraction. grins
Ja ne!
-Windsong - windsong 137 at gmail dot com
"Happiness is nothing more than good health and a bad memory." -Albert Schweitzer
