He loved it to bits and pieces.
He received it one fine Christmas morning and showed it off to everyone in the room, shouting and declaring how much more amazing his gift was compared to the others. They all knew it was in good jest, and his sister even laughed when he stood on top of a chair showing off his prize. After all, nobody else got a beautiful palm-sized wooden horse for Christmas. After all, someone had saved up her milk money for two weeks to buy him this beautiful toy horse.
Its feet were connected to two sets of simple cradle-like bottoms, to let it swing from front to back, he supposed. It was like a cradle but more entertaining because it was in the shape of a horse. He kept it on his desk and battered anyone that came near because his beautiful toy horse sat by the center but slightly to the left. When it was lights out and bedtime, he cheekily removed the horse from its desk-placement and kept it balanced on his pillow. He held it up in his hands as he spread out in bed, examining the details with poor judgment due to the lack of proper lighting. A bright grin from cheek to cheek was on his face all the while.
He absolutely loved the toy horse.
It was close to Christmas or something like that, he was pretty sure.
Seiya's back was against the wall; his other comrades were beaten and their faces were to the ground. His eyes locked with their enemy, a looming presence that silently sneered at them. Mocking them as they struggled.
Seiya's thoughts wandered. He had to make his feelings erupt; he had to make his Cosmo explode so that they'd come out on top, just like always. Things were getting more difficult as time went on.
He chided himself for becoming weaker as he got older.
Then, he thought about a toy horse that he received for Christmas eight years ago. He remembered the joy and pride he felt, and he remembered the gratefulness he had for the person that gave it to him. The person that denied herself of treats for two weeks just to afford his gift, and had a braver soul than he ever did. There were so many things he wanted to say but never could say right. There were so many actions he should have done but never did because he was one part idiot and three parts young and stupid.
There was one particular thing he wished he did with her instead of someone else and dreaming it was her. She haunted him and yet she cheered him on when he needed it without the slightest bit of complaint.
He couldn't let her down.
His voice practically shook the columns of stone their enemy surrounded himself with.
"YOU'RE GOING DOWN!"
Seiya's feet flew from under him and his fist made contact, a light that burned through everyone's vision that day bursting from his hand. When the dust cleared, when his friends stood back up, and when their enemy couldn't even lift a finger, Seiya huffed his quickest sigh yet and smiled. Nobody knew what he was smiling about, and he never really did tell.
But everyone knew they would be coming back soon.
She realized that despite her age she still kept wearing her hair the same way. She wasn't sure why but for some reason she wasn't sick of it yet. She combed out a few mussed sections with her fingers before leaning closer to the mirror, getting a good look of her slightly baggier eyes.
There were growing indications of her age with closer examination that was for sure.
Circles and swelling.
Darkening hair.
Chapped skin by the corners.
Dry hands.
Speaking of hands, her attention fell from the mirror to a child pulling on the hem of her conservative skirt. The boy looked up at her with pleading eyes.
"Can you read me a story, please?" he asked her, "I'm scared because of that movie and um…"
The boy never finished his sentence, looking down at the floor instead. He was so sweet and shy, clearly shaken from the upsetting movie advertisement that played at the theater. As much as she attempted to comfort him about it, he stubbornly remained as frightened as ever.
She put her hand by his head, gently running it down to hold his cheek as she knelt to his height.
"Don't worry, Hiroaki. I'll be there in a moment," she smiled and the boy eased, "I'll see you in your room."
When she was left with only the sound of his pattering footsteps on the floorboards, she turned to her dresser resting directly below the mirror on the wall. Her fingers slid across the composite wood and grasped the story she wanted to read him, pausing when her wrist bumped a framed photograph and knocked it face down into another decoration.
The toy horse she had kept there for years now made an awkward clunk as it tipped over.
She tucked a stray hair behind her ear before she reached over with both hands to bring her framed photograph to her focus. She made the excuse she wanted to check it for scratches but she knew she was lying to herself.
He was looking back at her with a smile and a wink.
She liked to pretend he had never changed since the time that photo was taken.
She liked to pretend he had never changed since the time she gave him a toy horse.
He bit his lip for the eighth time in five minutes.
Everyone else had gone and made their goodbyes.
Everyone was waiting for him to finish up and join.
But he really couldn't bring himself to tear away from her, the one person not included in everyone. He really couldn't. Not here, not now.
But he did anyway.
She mirrored his actions. They were always like that, nervous together. They shared many traits in body language: cramped legs, crossed arms, tapping fingers, bitten lips. He was the first this time to uncross his arms and open himself a little more, taking a step forward. Was he trying to hug her?
She met his eyes with the quiet torment he had been looking at since the previous night.
Or maybe it was since forever.
Or maybe it was since the day he would be married to destiny, as some people called it, so goddamn long ago.
Their hands touched with a sickening burn. Their nerves tied together in a convoluted knot and their bodies became stiff as boards. They were completely paralyzed by the overwhelming silent agony.
He pulled away harder, trying to hide the wetness in his eyes, and she did the same because she was going to die just looking at him any longer. They had their backs to each other even though just hours before they were facing.
They turned their backs to each other even though just hours before, just years before, they were enveloped and together and so happy.
He could feel her tremble as he forced himself to walk towards the door. He was trembling too. The knob was slippery in his grip but he managed to turn it and the sound attempted to break their silence and only half succeeded.
"Goodbye Seiya-chan," she said steadily but quietly.
"Goodbye, Miho-chan," he replied just the same.
He knew that looking back at her would only hurt him more, but he did anyway. She was thinking the same thing of course, so they met one last time. His mind informed him he should only have a glimpse but his eyes took in as much as they could. She met him with the same intensity, her body still and her face tearless. She was not going to cry during this moment. Neither of them would.
They were too proud.
And they loved each other too much.
From that moment on, the image of her and the wooden horse in her hands would burn into his mind.
She had been with him since forever, and now he would be leaving her forever.
He hated himself and the life that had been thrown at him.
She wondered sometimes why exactly things had to end up the way they did. Oftentimes it made her cry a lot. In fact it was pretty safe to say that every time she thought about the cruelty of God or constellations she drowned in tears at night. It had been many years since she last let those thoughts invade her.
She was older now, and a lot of people thought she was stronger.
To her, she had maybe gotten a little bit steadier. To her, she may have gotten a little bit stronger. After all people depended on her more than ever. The children of the orphanage, no matter how big or small, regardless of age or gender or birthplace, depended on her. They needed her to be a strong caretaker to fight away the demons that frightened them. They needed her to shield them from the cruelties and the bad things in the world.
Like he still does somewhere out there.
Miho readjusted her framed photograph, making sure that if she looked at it when the sun rose tomorrow, the glare wouldn't ruin it. She nodded approvingly once everything on the dresser was back in order again.
Time to fight off Hiroaki's fears and show him courage can be found in anyone.
She looked back at the toy horse sitting on her dresser and turned out the light.