The new-bloom flowers lay before the tombstone. Their petals swiftly dance with the passing breeze in that spring day. The smell of burnt candles fills the area. It is indeed a peaceful place where the world's troubles and hazards would effect no possible response. It appears to be a world connecting two dimensions of two essentially different beings – a world where two time frames meet, the past and the present.
On one corner lay a beautiful set of newly-pounded stone. Gray and dull, others simply seemed to be incomparable with it. On the opposite end lay another elegantly-designed, and probably costly, ensemble. A picture went along with it, probably a man on his 20's. Among these, this particular tombstone would rarely get anyone's attention. It's just a simple stone, like the others, yet it is always filled with flowers – never would a day pass by without it being graced with nature's beautiful gift.
A young woman entered the seemingly undisturbed haven. She slowly made her way through the confusing maze of tablets and eventually took a pause after arriving at a point. She removed the glasses she's been wearing and looked at a distance, where an old tree stood its ground. Its muscular trunk and laid out branches signified support and stability. Its darkened leaves almost imitated the plight of a flowing river as a soft breeze once more blew. In her eyes, this was like heaven – if such a place did exist in this twice-troubled part of the galaxy.
Staring at that scene unfolding before her, she couldn't help but sigh at the oncoming reality. She walked on and deep further into the place – ending in a seemingly isolated area. She let out her hand and touched the rusty wood of that tree which she adored from a distance. Its hard and stable layer shook her thoughts from her dreams – it is a proof of reality. This tree, which was once smooth to anyone's touch, is now rough and dull – just like the stones surrounding it, similar to the one beneath it. This one stone beneath it, this was his grave.
She knelt down and touched it with a hand, removing the tiny petals which slipped over from the breeze. The flowers are still there, those soft hues of blue and white appear to be as clingy as the tree. No matter how strong the wind blew, it still remained there – it still held on. Staring at these beautiful and warming sight, she couldn't help but compare herself to them. She touched a single petal from one of the stems, yet as soon as her fingers came across it, it fell – as silently as it stood. She tried to ignore this and hoped this didn't mean anything. She instead thought it was time to replace the flowers with new ones – the ones that she'd brought along. Using her other hand, she gently placed the stems of newly-picked flowers in the small crystal-like containers which were permanently carved in the gravestone's corners, and with the other, she took away the previous sets of blooms. She did this, with much heart and dedication. As she finished, she then took the old ones with both hands, stared at them for a while and placed them back in the container she carried with her. Afterwhich, she simply arranged her blouse, which was awfully strained and crumpled from her previous actions. She had just become a freelance photographer and ever since, she's been in many places before – always on the go and ready to hit the road. This is the only trip she'd dare not try go missing on. This became more than a 'habit' to her – this is a part of her. She then sat up straight and looked at the stone before her. With her fingers, she delicately touched each letter inscripted on it.
"Hey…" she whispered.
"How are you?" she asked, looking on the thing that lay before her. She appeared to be talking to an invisible being as she gave pauses in between her statements.
"Me? I just had a rough day. I've been trying hard to get even a glimpse of this wild goose. You know, when I get that one picture of it, I'll pass it as an entry in a prestigious festival and hopefully win the plum. Do you want to know how I heard about that festival?" she asked. After a short while, in a delighted and exuberant tone, she continued – enthusiasm getting the best of her.
"Okay, I'll tell you, but I'll only tell it once. You better listen. Here goes…" she took a deep breath and spoke up once again. Her eyes shone brightly as she even acted out the gestures of the people in her story. The joy of just talking about it made her laugh her loudest, mindless of the place where she sat and the seemingly quiet ears that listen.
She went on like that for one could say as hours. Her voice and laughter died down as she found herself just sitting there, numbly staring at the gravestone – his gravestone. As if on cue, her eyes began to blur as she felt warmth on her cheeks. Tears. She tried to wipe them away but eventually gave up. She focused her attention once more to the stone, this time, with uncontrollable tears. The area now has begun to witness another change of emotion. The once laughter-filled place was now filled with great pain and sorrow – like what it was always known for. The peace and tranquility proved to affect her more deeply, as she battled herself over and over, helplessly drowning herself with continuously pouring tears. She was like this. She's always like this. Each time she sees his name, each time she gets even the slightest glimpse of his gravestone, she'd feel weakness in her knees - bluntness in her senses. In this state, she so willingly gave all her energy just pouring out all the emotions that stirred within her. Strands of memories flashed in her mind – memories of him. How she wished she could, for even the last time, hear his voice once more or even tell him how much she cares for him. Yet there was no time for such impossible things to happen, for, there was no him. He is dead – a corpse whose body is nowhere to be found. And here before her is merely a symbol – a place where she found sanctuary and security. This is a place built by man's hands to somehow remind the people that he, indeed, existed and lived in this world, just like the others. This thought alone pains her, pierces her heart and shatters it into pieces. Was he given justice? War takes lives away. War killed him. What justice is in there? Could she, a mere being, haunt war and make it pay its debts? For it did not only take his life, it took hers with it as well.
Her tears slowly subsided. Her grunts and her angst little by little faded. She lived and he died. There's enough truth to that yet somehow, she can't let go. Every time she sees those happy couples walking side by side in parks, she remembers him. How does his hand feel again? She forgot its warmth. They say let go and move on, but no one ever taught her how. And besides, how could some one who had loved and lost ever forget her beloved when all the things that surround her remind her so much of him? No one really got the answer to that. No one.
The sun started its glorious retreat as the horizon is filled with hues of orange. She could feel the isolation and the coolness that sight brought with it. She stopped for a while to gaze on his gravestone, while the sun's radiance held on against the threatening darkness. She realized this and looked at the stone that bore his name – at him.
"Good bye now. I'm glad we've seen each other today. I hope to see you soon…" she ended. Yes, she would really love to see him soon, if there is any other soon to come. She stood up, grabbed the container she carried with her, and left the place before giving a final glance at his grave – from a distance.
She arrived a little late to her cozy apartment. As soon as she got in, she immediately hit the bed and lay there, resting her body against the soft mattress. She's never felt so exhausted before. She decided to skip dinner for she never had the appetite. She just shut her eyes and tried to clear her mind. In it, she imagined herself just freely flowing like the gentle wind. How she loved to just go somewhere and just be…free.
She was awakened by a loud, continuous bell-like sound. She sleepily reached for her bedside table and hit an object. Indeed it did stop the beeping sound, but not her eyes from opening. She sat up straight and noticed she was still in her clothes from yesterday. She never even had the strength to change – that's how tired she's been. Standing up, she stretched her arms and legs, and somehow felt new blood rushing in. Before even doing anything else, she went over the container she brought home with her. She took out sets of now-decaying blooms from it and placed them on the table – just beside the window sill. She grabbed her camera sitting idly near her alarm clock and turned it on. She then pulled a chair and sat on it. She peeked in the small device and arranged her favorite angle. She even pulled the curtains to let the sun shine in the room. This added a shade of yellow to the room. It felt even cozier and warmer that way. Once more, she peeked in her now-positioned camera, and after about a second, she pressed a button as a clicking sound emerged from the device.
She placed the camera back to its container and the flowers, after taking a couple of petals, she threw away. The petals she hid in a drawer as she found her way to her bathroom.
She did the morning rituals: taking a bath, eating breakfast, even jogging around the neighborhood. When she felt she already had the energy she needed for the day, she then dressed anew and took her camera, allowing its container's lace to dangle around her neck. And so with this, another day had started.
After what seemed to be a hard day's work has ended, she immediately bought some more blooms, guessing the quantity she would replace the old ones with. Its been barely a day since she last visited his grave – some of the flowers might still be looking at their best. She always wanted the best for him. Now that he's gone, the more she needed to give him the best possible things she could give. She felt that in doing so, she could somehow alleviate the pain that she's feeling over his death. She felt this was her own way of letting go.
She smiled once more upon arriving at the cemetery. Her eyes are filled with anticipation. She has been rehearsing over and over herself on what stories she's about to tell him today. Again, as usual, she went in the afternoon. She has work in the morning and this is her only free time. Even in the little spare time given to her, she'd prefer to spend it with him. She paused for a short while upon seeing that tree which gave shed to his tombstone. She smiled ever more as she strode off. In her excitement, she immediately called out his name, not knowing someone was there, too.
He turned around and saw her. He knew it was her voice that he heard as he just looked at her nearing figure. And when she called his name, he figured he's at the right place. He could still see a surprised look on her face. It wasn't an "angry" surprise look nor was it a "happy" one. She just eyed him and took in his details, careful of what she would say. One of them had to speak up and it had to be him, she thought. He was, after all, the one who was looking at her for the longest time.
She continued walking towards his grave, ignoring the young man standing just next to her. She did as she did before, kneeling down and replacing some of the fallen blooms. He stood there, just beside her yet was left awed and speechless upon seeing how she carefully cleaned the name plate of this one stone and replaced some of the withering flowers in the process. He'd never seen someone, in his whole life, care more for another who had passed away. And in this thought, knowing it was her who's doing it, he gave a sad smile. He noticed it only took her a short while upon finishing all these 'rituals'. He figured this was the right time to talk to her.
"Um, Mirialla?" he started. Frankly, he never knew how to start a conversation, especially with her. Her reactions, for him, were too unpredictable and this scared the wits out of him.
"Just Mir." She responded, her back against him as she shifted her kneeling position to a sitting one. Her voice was plain and blunt.
"Right. So, Mir, I heard he was buried here so I decided to visit him and maybe, talk to him." He said, still unsure of what to say or even explain himself to her. He never actually knew she was coming today. He saw the flowers and thought she had visited the other day, and never expected she'd visit again. Once a year did he visit his dead, and he, somehow, admired the devotion she's showing to hers.
"Not literally buried, but prayed over. This is just a simple thing, made of stone with his name on it…" she replied, touching the stone. He knew how Tolle died and found himself standing there dumbstruck upon realizing how stupid he was to think his body was actually there.
"Sorry. I, I guess I was too assuming." He simple said, turning his gaze away. She suddenly stood up and brought the same container with her. She started to walk away when he grabbed her by the wrist.
"Hey, Mir, wait. I mean, where are you going?"
"I'm leaving. You said you wanted to talk to him, so go ahead and talk." She replied, obviously hiding her face from him. He knew something was wrong, he knew what it was yet he somehow wanted to hear it from her.
"I, I don't talk well to the dead." He answered back, trying to somehow make her stay through his words. And this statement from him pierced her heart more. As if losing her composure, she turned around and glared at him.
"To the dead? How could you refer to him like that! And now you say you want to talk to him then?" Bitterness was evident in her voice. He was taken aback by her statements. He was not sure of what he just said. He was, in fact, no good with words. He may have mastered some mobile suits during the war but he was no orator and he definitely was one impulsive coordinator. He let go of his hold on her.
"I'm sorry. Mir, what I wanted to say was…" he tried to apologize and explain his actions but when he saw her tears falling, he found such comforting words hard to grasp. His eyes widened and he surely was not sure on what to do next. He doesn't even know how to comfort a lost comrade, what more of a grieving one? He tried to think on what to do next. She was, in the meantime, just crying her heart out – not looking at him. He then, lifted his arms and held her shoulders. The touch of him somehow awakened her as she moved away from him, breaking out of his hold.
"Just go back to the Plants, Dearka! Just leave me alone." She said as she stared at him. He doesn't know how to respond to this without hurting her more. He just wanted to comfort her, and he had no other intentions more than that. True, he cared for her, and may also have felt something more, but, seeing her like this – it simply tears him apart, similar to what she's just currently feeling. With a determined look on his face, he held her once more on her shoulders.
"Look at me." He ordered, tightening his hold every time she attempts to break free.
"Let go!" she struggled back, both her arms hitting him hard. Her eyes completely shut.
"I said look at me, Mir!" he ordered once more, this time, with undue authority and raised tone. She opened her eyes and stared at his. He then loosened up as he released the strong pressure on his hold on her.
"Get yourself together, okay? Nobody wants – no - I don't want to see you like this. So please, Mir, get yourself together…" he pleaded, with a soft voice. He then lowered his hands and lay them hanging on his sides. He simply looked down after saying this and sighed deeply. His words somehow got to her as she simply took her gaze away from him and turned around. Dearka attempted to follow her but then, she stopped him on his tracks.
"I want to be alone. Please, Dearka…" she whispered as she set one more foot forward.
He complied with her, though he knew she needed him. He just stood there and looked at her fading figure.
Everyday since that day, Dearka always came to Tolle's grave. Somehow, making an excuse of talking to him but realized, he wasn't saying anything at all, he was simply waiting for Mir to come and pass by. He even waited until the evening but still, she never seemed to show up to him. He figured out she knew he'd still be there. But then, he remained steadfast and waited for her. She wasn't answering or even returning his calls. There was simply no communication between them – zero. And he hated himself for it. For not being with her when he knew she needed someone. He also thought of going to her place but Mir would simply disappear. Either she was not home at the moment or she wasn't there at all. This place was the only place he knew she'd go. And he wasn't allowing her to suffer alone.
He then glanced back and walked towards his grave. He observed it for a while and eventually knelt before it. He then remembered how Mir carefully cleaned his grave and how diligently she replaced the flowers gracing it. He then realized how strong her feelings were for him and how hurt she probably was all these years. He decided to simply talk to the one whose name was inscripted in this tombstone. He sighed deeply and started.
"So, hey, you must be Tolle?" He paused for a while, as if waiting for an answer he knew won't come. A part of him tells him to stop this nonsense but still, he continued on.
"We haven't been formally introduced yet. I'm Dearka, Dearka Ellsman. Nice to meet you." He then said as he gestured a hand shake. Wait – a handshake with this thing laying flat on the ground? How stupid he must really feel with his actions. He then closed his opened fist and lay it again on his side. He thought for a while and glanced at his back. He then, looked again at the stone that lay before him.
"You're a jerk, you know that? I honestly don't like you – a lot. Okay? Now, that's cleared, I can continue 'talking' to you." He stopped again and with a deep breath he went on.
Mir currently was at the store, buying the same flowers she usually bought. She just came home from an overseas trip. The day she encountered Dearka was actually the day she bade Tolle good bye. She already told him she'd be away for a while and won't be able to visit him. That's why she just felt so ecstatic now that she's back. With her, she brought along wonderful stories of her experiences that she was so looking forward to share to him.
I really am not fond of you…even your name. It seems so…I don't know, kind? Like that. We haven't met physically and somehow I think talking to this piece of stone is silly. Your body's not here anyway, so I just don't know how someone could ever reach you through this thing. Anyhow, I'm not here about that. I'm here because of Mir…
She gave the lady behind the cashier the payment for the flowers she handpicked herself. She decided to add some incense to her purchase as she went to the other side of the street. She went inside one of the stores and was greeted with a warm "Welcome".
…I don't know if she already told you how we first met but even if she did, I'd gladly tell that to you all over again, this time, in my point of view. How do I start…well, I was taken captive in this ship…the Archangel, your ship. I got arrested after that battle where Athrun and Kira were battling each other out. That's the time when you…when you passed away.
She browsed over a variety of charms and eventually found her way in the incense section. She bought a pack of it, deciding to save some for later, as she would continue visiting him in the coming days. After making the purchase, she then went out. She suddenly remembered to buy a candle so she again, crossed the street. She took out her wallet first and checked on the amount of cash she had left. To her dismay, it was almost empty. She suddenly recalled making different purchases during her trip overseas. She then remembered leaving a certain pack of it at her apartment. She checked on the time and noticed it was still pretty early. With her other hand carrying the packages she bought, she gestured the other and called out a taxi. Soon enough, it came and stopped in front of her. She went in and told the cab where to take her. She then, laid her back against the covers of the seat as she closed her eyes, stealing rest from her tiring day.
During those times when I lay there on the hospital bed, I was thinking, where the hell am I? What happened to my comrades? What's going to happen to me next? These thoughts ran in my mind. By that time, I knew I was in someone else's ship and definitely, the enemy's. The nurse left for a while and advised that I go get some rest, which I did. I really felt weary over that battle and somehow, my body also gave up. It was then, when I heard the door slide open. I opened my eyes, and before me, saw a certain short-haired girl. I don't know what I exactly said to her, but I certainly remembered telling her how she lost you – her natural boyfriend. Something like that. And after which, I saw her eyes and the whole of her snap. Before me, I saw a girl raging in anger, carrying with her hand a knife, ready to stab me.
She paid the fare and went out the vehicle. Using her other hand, she grabbed hold of the key and turned open the doorknob to her apartment. Once inside, she placed the flowers and the incense on the table as she went to her utility drawers and searched for the candles.
I couldn't do anything more to stop her from dropping the knife on my chest since my hands were tied. So, I simply ducked and evaded her assault. She tried to do it again when this guy with glasses entered and stopped her from doing so. There surely was shouting in the room. She was screaming and cursing me at the same time. I didn't have the time to process things over my head. Her words were harsh and I could tell, they were simply from the heart. I don't know how it happened, but this red-haired girl suddenly came up and pointed a live gun at my face. Just like Mir, she was saying something like 'I hate all coordinators' and that our race must die. I knew I was a goner when she had her fingers on that trigger. She really looked ready to kill, just like the way Mir looked at me. I then had little time to think things over but somehow, I prepared myself. I told myself, if she's gonna kill me – so be it. And indeed, she pulled the trigger, but no bullet hit me. Mir - she jumped out and stopped her. She was crying and told her some things I barely recall.
She now found the candles she was looking for. With a smile on her face, she immediately went towards the table and grabbed hold of the flowers and the incense. Making sure that she locked the door, she made her way to the road and there went to the bus stop.
I was then transferred to the prison cells within the ship. I don't know where that is. Anyway, again, I found myself laying on that prison bed – just staring at the ceiling. My mind was actually blank as I thought of the so many things that took place earlier. I had two girls attempting to kill me. But when I looked at Mir's eyes, I felt her pain more. Then, I made up my mind. If I was to die that day, I'd willingly allow myself to be hit. Not long after that incident, I heard some footsteps. There, behind the bars on the free side, I saw Mir. Her eyes were somewhat different that time. I remember telling her to kill me at that instant. I remember apologizing, too, about mocking your death. Then, I felt like I just had to know what happened to you, so I asked her about it. She gave me a calm response…told me how you died, and the like. Finally, I realized it wasn't me who killed you, it was a friend of mine. I told her that and lay on my back again. I don't know how she reacted for I never dared to glance at her. I then heard footsteps fading away.
She boarded a bus and waited for her stop. She went down at a particular street and after a few more minutes of walking, she reached the cemetery. She then smiled at her destination and went in. With her, the same old things she brought. This time, with happy memories to share to the departed one she's going to visit.
"Then, I was left to be free. I somehow felt an urge to fight alongside them – your crewmates, that is. I don't know why, but I just had a change of heart." Dearka stopped after recalling some of his early encounters with Mir. He looked at his watch and noticed it was getting late. So, he stood up, and straightened his jacket.
"All I'm asking you, and all I'm ever going to ask you is this: if you feel the same way as she does, please, set her free. Leave her…to be free. She's hurt and in grief for no one knows how long now. Tolle, I know you don't want to hurt her, but I also know and believe you know what to do, and I leave that to you." He ended as he turned around and took a few steps forward.
"Oh, before I forget. I figured out …" with this he took few more steps forward.
"…I feel jealous of her love for you. Even now that you're gone, she still cared for you…and that's why I… don't like you so much." With this, he left the area.