Ihin
Summary: Kamen Rider OOO. For a Greeed, he didn't have a lot. Now Hina doesn't have anything to remember Ankh by.
Author's Note: I've been writing so much angst lately it hurts.
Disclaimer: I don't own it.
ihin
(n. Japanese) articles or things that are left or once belonged to the deceased.
For someone who desired the taste of the entire world, Ankh didn't have much. Chiyoko had let her into the attic a few days after Eiji had left on his world journey to repair Ankh's core medal, her eyes teary and red-rimmed but spirit strong.
"No rush, okay Hina?"
Hina had smiled because that was what Chiyoko wanted to see, even if she didn't believe it. She didn't notice when the older woman left; and that was all the better. She'd rather be alone for this. Hina sniffed once, refusing to cry. She had cried enough the past few days.
Some of her tears were out of happiness. Her brother was back and she had never felt more relieved in her entire life.
But a lot of her tears were out of grief. It wasn't really fair—Ankh didn't deserve to die, and in the end he was just as human as she was.
So you think a pile of medals like me can die?
Isn't that what you just said?
She started with the dresser. Mostly clothing. Shades of red that were fearless and jackets that hid more than just her brother's torso. Hina used to wonder why Ankh never showed off his feathers, brilliant shades of reds and oranges and greens and blues that were the fire of the sun and the crashing waves of the ocean all at once.
Don't worry. This body is fine.
Now she understands that by ignoring his Greeed form, he was pretending he was able to change.
I'm asking about you, Ankh.
On the table she found the unopened present she had gotten for her brother's birthday. It seemed so long ago and she remembered the scene with a sense of detachment, like seeing it through the eyes of an omnipotent narrator.
Hina didn't touch the gift. The bag remained on the table. It may remain on the table indefinitely, or until Chiyoko moved it.
She didn't care. It was too raw, too bright, too much, right now. It was the turning point of when everything went wrong. Too many if only's.
It was selfish of her, but she wishes Eiji didn't take both halves of his core medal. Her pocket was empty, lacking the heat the fiery stone gave. At the very least he could have left behind the empty medal case, but he took everything with him and disappeared into the sand of the desert, hardly ever glancing backwards once.
All of the Greeed were so greedy, but they ignored the material objects and went for the things that composed humanity. Love, taste, power.
Don't tell Eiji about my core medal.
In their last moments they were like children. Hina felt only pity.
Why not?
It'll distract him.
She didn't anything tangible to hold to remind her of the sacrifice Ankh made. All she had was a stabbing pain in her chest when she looked at her brother.
Now she only had to head to the future where Ankh would be waiting for them. Eiji had better hurry.
She didn't want to begin to forget, after all.