2 : 4 : 3
BY: MYLiFE'SBOAT
Ouran Fantasy/Romance Contest Entry
Disclaimer: Haruhi and Kyouya are not mine. Go bother someone else. Nonetheless, I own the plot of this story, Elka, Ejijo, Emirion, the talking fox and the Redeemers.
A/N: I wrote this through a Nicholas Cage marathon. Damn, I just love Nicholas Cage. He robbed half of my muse. You rock, man!
A/N II: Just so you know, the characterization of this fic killed me. But at least I tried so don't murder me. Yet. And I did my best to make it not-so-boring a fairytale, if you can call it that. I think it didn't do much justice on field but whatever.
Warning: Alternate Universe (to the highest point of the meter), slight OOC (OKAY??)
Characters: Kyouya, Haruhi
Summary: Haruhi lived her whole life getting everything she wanted: her spoils, her ambrosia. As a queen of Potiphero, she knew no limits, she knew all but to take responsibility to her people, until plagues struck and the Nymph took away what the village had. The Redeemers will summon retribution for her doing and Haruhi needs to save her kingdom within twenty-four hours before it is obliterated into nothingness. With the help of a homeless traveler, Kyouya and his comrade, the talking fox, they search for Elka, the Nymph chieftain, to ask her to give the life of the forest back. But the conflict is yet to arise: the people reclaim power and demand her to step out of the throne. They do not want any more pain . . . any more suffering . . . any more cause of their near-destruction. But Haruhi is, after all, still human.
. . . . . . .
It was consumed . . . clawed upon . . . obliterated next to nothingness—its misery set off by its own predecessors, by its own rulers, by its own voracious royalty. Plagues ruled the whole kingdom. The people succumbed and curled to their feet in hunger, in thirst, in destitution.
The village under the queen's rule suffered in hopelessness. Stomachs roared in protest. People stayed out in the streets, homeless un unfed. Children cried for help, begging to be spared. The green foliage of the forest had withered into brownish lifeless forms. The rivers have died and the banks, arid. It was a place not fit for life anymore.
But people continued to live.
They continued to suffer.
Because they knew there is still hope. They can feel the end of this regime—this anguish—they can feel it approaching. It was forthcoming faster than before. Their redeemer will reclaim power and save them. It would not be too long.
Two dark hooded figures appeared out of nowhere. They were mounted in tall, handsome horses and the homeless slumped on lifeless ground whimpered as they saw the strangers. Another life form that will send them to misery? They do not desire any more of it. They do not deserve such suffering.
Their poise exuded personality, their chins up and radiated power. One was a woman, the other a gentleman. The dark horses that carried them moved in a graceful pace, in a long and unhurried manner. They had every time in the world.
These were important people. But they were uninvited guests of the queen for the feast she will have inside the castle. They will come onto them with surprise. Oh, how much joy they will take upon the look of the queen's face when she sees them! Priceless. It will be priceless.
In all that remained almost nothing, the queen's castle has been the only place where life continued. The trees inside the high walls were lush and boisterous; the streams sparkling under the rays of sunshine; the ground green and unbarren.
The castle sat up in a cliff over-viewing the whole village. It was protected with tall walls and no unimportant civilian can ever come inside, apart from traders and merchants under heavily guarded surveillance.
It basically had its own community: a city within a city. The people in the village served no use to them. They were mere peasants—lowly and undeserving of the kingdom's abundance. This thought is what the queen and all the members of the royal patronage still held. She had power (too much power), it was terrifying.
The queen is a beautiful, young maiden. Her hair was earthly brown, full of life and breath. Her eyes were dark pools of chocolate, sinful and dangerous. They were deep, like the ocean, but not deep enough to cover her own self-destructive personality. She was sinful, a glutton, a greedy soul inside a small fragile body. She exposed every single thing about her that gave away her voracity. Food was her ambrosia. Perhaps more than that—perhaps ambrosia itself was her self-proclaimed god. She consumed the village's resources, their treasures, oh their blood and sweat for all the harvest of every season. Yet she wasted them, every single grain of wheat, she gave no notice to.
And the plagues happened. The punishment for what the queen did; her people had to suffer.
The farmlands dried, along with the riverbeds. The trees wilted and the sparrows and humming birds left the forest at once. No sign of life lingered on it anymore. The deer have gone, the fishes, the swans . . . Hunger struck and all went downhill. Now is the time for retribution.
And retribution will come sooner than it was expected.
The two figures moved up to the direction of the castle, their aura menacing . . . their eyes fierce pools of blood red . . . their teeth clashes of canine, each lined perfectly, each pearl white. The end of this avarice is near. They are the redeemers.
. . . . . . .
They moved in astonishing gracefulness, each step calculated, each step polished with refinement and in harmony with the beat of the music. The music was soft and mellow; the lights were dim and seductive. It was a feast, a feast for nothing, a feast simply for the queen's pleasure and gratification.
The tables overflowed with food—the precious ambrosia. While her people hungered, the queen laughed. While her people remained homeless, she danced, with a handsome fine gentleman, in the middle of the floor. She did not care; she gave no notice to what was happening to her kingdom. As long as it didn't affect her, she will not care.
They danced and they will dance for as long as they want. They will pleasure themselves for as much as they can manage. For they know no limits . . . they know nothing else.
Laughter filled the great hall, as everyone gathered in the dance floor to grace themselves. Music filled the air as the flames flickered and the lighting provided the hall a magnificent golden glow. Nobody seemed to notice the two figures approaching the castle. They paid no heed to them. They will mind nothing else.
The wind swooshed and the lights extinguished themselves. Their movements halted and the music stopped as the double doors of the hall opened wide. Their eyes widened as two figures loomed. Their heartbeats frantic as the strangers stepped inside.
The woman pulled her hood back, and revealed a great flow of back hair. The other did the same. Both had two, identical red eyes and a canine smirk. It is now time.
"Proceed, proceed . . ." The man's voice was raspy and menacing. "Why stop the party? Were you not having fun?"
"Akira," the woman spoke in a hiss. "We do not mingle with these people. Stop that."
"What do you want?" a bold voice came forward. It was the queen, her eyes flaming in anger. No one disrupts her feast! No one!
"Rather impatient, are we?" the man twisted his head to the direction of the queen. His lips tugged upwards into a sneer as he hovered to her in one swift movement. His long fingers traced the queen's cheekbone, his nails digging slightly into the skin. "My lady."
The queen slapped his hand away. "Who sent you here?"
"You need not to know," the woman told her. She followed Akira and stepped in front of the queen, her lips identical with his companion's. "We came to your kingdom for one purpose."
"What do you want?" The queen was not abashed. Akira chuckled, bemused.
"We are here," he explained. "For retribution."
"Haruhi Fujioka, queen of Potiphero," the woman followed. "It is now your downfall."
"You pay your respects to the queen!"
A man came forward, ready to strike. But before he can get a foot closer to the two figures, he was flung southward and he landed spread-eagled on the floor, unconscious.
"We will redeem your power," the woman said, her teeth flashing. "You will fall!"
The wind howled and with a swishing sound, the queen was lifted up in the air. Akira and the woman followed and they hovered like pixies without wings. Like shinigamis . . . the god of death.
"Release me!" Haruhi commanded her voice firm. "You have no right!"
The two loomed over and began to chant unintelligible words. "Sakumir munkh tau. Themidor alk munera!"
"I will steal your eyes," the man said. He aimed his long fingers to the queen's eyes and with a wave of his hand, Haruhi screamed. "You shall not see."
"I will steal your voice," the woman said. She copied the man's movements and aimed her hand to Haruhi's throat. "You shall not speak."
Haruhi yelled agony in an inaudible scream.
"I shall steal your limbs," the man said. "You shall be a cripple."
Pain ripped through her and she yelled yet again another inaudible cry.
"And you, Haruhi Fujioka, queen of this dead village," the woman pointed a finger to her. "Shall save the kingdom you have plagued yourself! You will suffer until the village you have destroyed goes back to life!"
"We give you twenty-four hours . . . until then; you have time to reawaken your kingdom."
Haruhi was barely hearing.
"If you succeed, you shall gain the throne back and we will return your eyes and your voice and your feet. But if you fail, the kingdom will fall and crumble down into ashes!"
All became darkness as black enveloped everything. Haruhi fell to the floor with a thud, and the two figures disappeared out of thin air. Silence clawed and all went completely blank.
. . . . . . .
In the depths of the barren forest, a young man came. A red fox and a pearl steed came with his company. He was a young homeless traveler, a tramp lost within the woods.
The fox cried and the young man searched the trees, hoping to find some signs of life. He found none. He expected none.
They moved forward, attempting to look for a mark that would point them out of this unearthly place. He was thirsty and hunger clawed him. They have not eaten since daybreak and night was already falling over the horizon. He needed food lest he needed energy.
With a cry, the fox hurried forward and the young traveler and his steed shuffled to follow him. Behind a leafless tree, there they found a young maiden, her hair spread like mud, her face cradled with gracefulness and rarity. The maiden lay unconscious, the spirits of slumber hovering above her head. The man watched for a moment, until the fox strode to the maiden and sniffed.
"She's still alive," the fox spoke in a low voice.
"I don't think we should involve ourselves with such matters," the young man said. "We could get into trouble."
The fox groaned. "She needs help," he pointed out.
"I'm not a knight," he argued back. "If she's some kind of princess, I'd help. She doesn't look like one."
"You're a man, Kyouya! What the hell?"
The fox muttered incoherently and gave up. The man knew nothing but merit and gold and merit. He even wondered why he got stuck with this mindless bastard. But then again, they were still friends.
With his jaws, the fox dragged the maiden by the sleeve of her dress. "I'm going to help this maiden and look for the city alone."
"You're being difficult," the young man told him while jumping off his horse. The wind kissed his face as he bent down to sweep the maiden off the ground. He turned to the fox and through gritted teeth, he spoke. "Just this one time. If we get into trouble, you're kicked out of the gang."
"You call him a gang member?" the fox asked while glaring at the horse who knew nothing of what he was talking about.
"You talk a lot. I wonder what happened to you that you became a talking fox."
"I was cursed, all right? I was cursed. Shut the hell up."
"I'll bind that snout together if you want. Free of charge though you have to pay for the ropes."
"Tch."
The young man flung the maiden carefully to the saddle of his horse. Sighing in resignation, he pulled the straps and led his steed and the fox to somewhere he didn't know.
. . . . . . .
She lay on a soft mattress. It was comfortable. The room smelled of . . . chocolate and driftwood. She felt at peace.
Haruhi woke up and saw nothing.
Darkness enveloped all that met her eyes. She saw nothing but shadows. Faint shadows and silhouettes moved about but there was nothing more. She closed her eyes, hoping to find colors when she opens the again but when she did, there was nothing.
She sat bolt upright, frantically searching the bed. She tried to speak, but no voice came out. She tried to move, but her legs refused to budge.
What is happening?
The servants, where are the servants?
"Oh, you're awake," a voice spoke, his tone a rich baritone. She spun her head to the direction of the sound.
Maurice?
"How are you feeling?"
Haruhi opened her mouth, but her throat felt dry and no sound escaped. Her hands clamped her neck as she tried to figure out what was wrong. What is happening?
"Are you mute?" the voice asked and Haruhi mouthed a 'no' while shaking her head.
Why can't I speak?
"What happened to your voice?"
What happened?
They were interrupted by a soft knock on the door and Haruhi spun her head around. The housekeeper opened it quickly and slipped inside.
"How are you feeling?" she asked while putting the tray of breakfast and milk on the bedside table. "Sorry, but this isn't much. Our food supply is running really short."
Where are my servants? Who are these people?
"This young man over here," the housekeeper acknowledged Kyouya who was sitting on the chair beside the bed. "He brought you to this inn while you were unconscious. He's such a fine gentleman."
The words barely registered to her. Her mind was in total chaos. She fumbled for something to drink and her hands met the tray. A glass sat there are she clutched it. Kyouya and the housekeeper watched as Haruhi pressed the glass to her lips and drank. When she finished, she was about to bring it back to the tray when she missed it for a few inches. The glass broke into shards.
"Oh my," the housekeeper cried out while bending over to pick up the pieces on the floor.
"You're blind too, aren't you?" Kyouya spoke, his tone flat.
Haruhi shook her head while burying her face on her hands. She's not going to cry. No, she's not this weak.
"Can you please give us a minute?" Kyouya asked the housekeeper and she turned to look at him.
"Certainly," she said as she collected the small shards of glass on the floor, picking them up with bare hands and throwing them to the trashbin under the side table. She stood up at once and Kyouya watched as she disappeared behind the door.
He waited for a moment before turning to the maiden on the bed. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice masked with authority as if the question desperately needed a straight answer.
Haruhi shook her head. She had no voice. She could not see. Her legs were limp. What the hell happened to this girl?
"I am a very patient man," he told her while pinching his nose. "But it cannot be stretched too far because then, it becomes a little more . . . fragile. Look at me," he commanded.
Haruhi stayed still for a moment before looking up, her eyes unseeing, her brows furrowing.
"Now cooperate."
Maybe she needed help, she thought desperately. Haruhi has never depended to anyone so much like this before, even to the servants in the castle. She hated owing a favor to anybody because time always comes when they bite back with long, sharp fangs. Maybe this man can help. And if she ever wanted to get out of this mess and stay alive, she would rather stick with him. At least it's one step forward to solving her problem.
"My fox and I saw you on the forest floor alone and unconscious," Kyouya started. "Do you recall what happened?"
Haruhi rethought and focused on remembering what brought her to this present predicament . . .
Flashes came . . . but there was nothing more to it.
"Steal you eyes . . ."
". . . your limbs!"
". . . twenty-four hours."
They were all vague. But she remembered the two figures that threatened to ruin her ball . . . in fact; they had already ruined it when they came.
"Do you live in this kingdom?" he asked next. Haruhi nodded.
"In this village in particular?" Haruhi shook her head.
Kyouya pondered deeper. Damn. She's more than meets the eye. "You live in the castle?!"
She nodded once.
And that was all it took him to grab her by the waist and fling her to his shoulder.
"You need help, my lady. I will gladly oblige to your needs." She thundered back with her fists and silent protests while trying to pull some of his hair out but to no avail.
And they reached the lobby and the fox spotted them at once. They left the inn without another word.
. . . . . . .
Right next to the apothecary was the blacksmith's warren. Kyouya spoiled his eyes with the massive kinds of weaponry displayed on the shelves as his steed paced slowly to find the hermit's lair just inside the marketplace. The maiden sat beside him in a straddle as her hands clutched the sleeves of his tunic tightly. The fox came along, as he led the way forward, sniffing and searching for the man they needed.
They came upon a small, dilapidated house and Kyouya jumped off his horse. He assisted the maiden down and carried her on his back.
"We're here," he told her as they made their way inside.
To simply put it, the inside was a . . . cliché, Kyouya thought as he put her down on a small chair in front of a huge desk. The candles that surrounded them provided a poor lighting and Kyouya could barely see. The grime on the walls were too thick and he wondered sourly how long it has been since this hut was provided with proper cleaning. An archway stood quietly behind him and he didn't want to know what was inside.
Haruhi wrinkled her nose in revulsion as a putrid whiff of burning garbage escaped inside. Kyouya cursed and stood up in alarm, clapping his hand up to cover his nose.
"What the hell is that smell?" he asked to no one in particular, looking around.
"I'm brewing tonic," a crisp voice told him and Kyouya turned his head to see and old man by the doorway behind him. The old man strode behind the desk across them and sat on the chair behind it.
"I doubt tonic is supposed to smell like burning garbage," he told the man before occupying his seat back.
The old man ignored him and turned to the girl instead. "Now, now . . . what brought a beautiful maiden in my humble home?"
"We need help," Kyouya answered quickly.
"Two bronze coins," the old man declared, his eyes still directed to Haruhi.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I only talk to fair ladies," he said with conviction. "If you want to talk to me, pay two bronze coins."
"Voyeur," Kyouya muttered grudgingly while rummaging his bag for a few coins. He dropped two bronze coins on the man's desk. The old man flipped over a sand glass and Kyouya watched the sand on top fall halfway before he continued. He sensed trouble but he continued, nonetheless.
"This maiden here needs help," he said while pointing a finger to Haruhi who sat still on her chair. "I think she's cursed. Can you help us?"
"Yes, she's cursed," the old man contemplated loudly. He turned to Kyouya. "Oh, by the way. I'm Ejoji, the Healer. But you can call me Ejoji-san or Ejoji-jiisan, whichever you like."
Kyouya gave him a smug look. "Look, old man. I don't have time for any more pleasantries. We need your help. Can give us anything? Tell us anything, perhaps? Or maybe—"
Ejoji, the Healer raised his palm up and interrupted Kyouya. "Two bronze coins."
Kyouya was stumped. "I just gave you two bronze coins."
The man pointed at the sand glass earlier. All of the grains had settled at the bottom. Kyouya shook his head and supressed from rubbing his temples. He stood up and grabbed Haruhi's hand.
"We're leaving."
Haruhi shook her head and yanked her hand out of his grasp. "Fine, but you are going to pay me tenfold for this."
She nodded vigorously and Kyouya sat back down and dropped another pair of bronze coins on the man's desk. "Bastard."
"The feeling is mutual, young man."
Kyouya stared and dared him to continue.
"I can help," Ejoji stood up and moved to the shelves where jars of unknown substance were contained menacingly inside. He ran his nimbly fingers through the jars and tapped each.
"There is what you call the Redeemers," he continued. Haruhi was listening. "And they are the only people who have such power. I will not ask what happened or who you are but you must have done something terrible that offended them."
Kyouya watched his every move. He noticed the grains of the sandglass emptying again and he added another two bronze coins on the table.
"No one else but the Redeemers can take the curse back," he told them. "But I have a temporary cure."
He extracted a glass jar from the shelf with yellow slime. Kyouya cringed at the sight of it. The man returned to the desk and put the jar on top of it. "The Redeemers that came two you are but one, am I right?"
Haruhi nodded and the Healer continued. "One is a woman, the other, a man." He knew. "And since a woman's power is weaker than the other, I can crack her curse."
She leaned closer and Kyouya copied her motions. "But only temporarily."
"It doesn't matter," Kyouya said. "As long as it lasts until we find those Redeemers."
"Certainly," Ejoji spoke. "The curse lasts for twenty-four hours," he knew. "And the cure works effectively for exactly half of that."
"What—twenty-four hours? What the hell?"
"Yes," Ejoji confirmed. "Twenty-four hours. But worry not. I will help."
Kyouya restrained from burying his face on his hands. This wasn't the kind of trouble he was searching for. Not this blind, mute and crippled maiden from the castle and this mental, old swindler who wants to eat off all the money left on his pocket.
He is so, so dead. But first, he had to get out of this mess.
"Look," Kyouya told them both. "I am just a homeless traveler. I do not desire to be involved into this . . . trouble. This is none of my business any longer. I'm out of here."
"And you will simply leave this poor maiden here?" the old man asked as Kyouya made his way to the door. He did not stop.
"Yes." His hand was on the door handle.
"What if I tell you that she's the queen?"
The Healer is a shrewd man, a man of wit and knowledge, despite his deceitful attitude. And the question made Kyouya stop on his tracks and turn his head back.
Great. Just great.
"This tonic is worth twenty-seven gold coins."
"Like I said," Kyouya told Haruhi. "You'll pay me back tenfold."
. . . . . . .
"Hello?" her voice was low and raspy yet still, feminine. "Is that I who spoke? Hello?"
"That's you," Ejijo spoke with a content grin.
"I demand a refund!" she yelled. "This isn't my voice." She banged her fist on what she believed was the table.
"I paid for twenty-seven gold coins for that," Kyouya told her. "Just bear with it, OKAY??"
The last word was loaded with irritation.
This is so not happening.
. . . . . . .
The Redeemers, Ejijo had told them over five silver coins, live far off the depths of a volcano and they can not possibly go to them. Haruhi had remembered the condition of the Redeemers who visited the castle and told Kyouya and the Healer that she needed to restore to life the kingdom she had plagued. Kyouya agreed to help, as long as he wouldn't die and as long as she would pay him back ten times. Okay, she understood. So don't repeat it too many times. Ejijo, hearing the condition, had instructed them (over a gold coin) to go to another kingdom to search for the Nymph, the fairy of the Waters and ask for their help. She will be able to bring Potiphero back to life.
And so, they travelled at once to the nearest kingdom Kyouya's horse can reach. Haruhi was silent thought the ride, even though she had just gotten her voice back. Great, Kyouya thought, because he preferred silence and treasured peace more than anything else.
They arrived in a forest within the kingdom of Kunhfelk, southeast of Potiphero and a few miles away from it. Contrast to the barren kingdom where Haruhi came from, the forest of Kunhfelk was full of life. The trees were lush and moving as if they were alive. They bore fruits of different kinds and as Kyouya jumped off his steed, he grabbed the nearest heartfruit and bit on it, the juice dribbling down his chin. He reached for another one and shoved it on Haruhi's hand. She wiped it with her hand and ate it at once. The fox searched the bushes for berries.
They found the river shortly after and discovered a mermaid perched on top of a rock near the bank. She turned and saw them approaching and moved to a defensive position at once, baring her sharp teeth to the strangers who interrupted her reverie.
"What brought you here?" she hissed and Kyouya winced. "Outsiders! You do not belong here!"
Haruhi went straight to the point. "We're here to look for the Nymph."
"The Nymph is no lowly to mingle with you!" she hissed, yet again.
"That is enough, Maho," a voice spoke before Haruhi can retort back. "They mean no harm."
Kyouya looked around, searching for the source of the voice. It was soft, like a mere hum, like a lullaby . . . As if on cue; a beautiful lady appeared out of thin air. Her face was gentle, her hair flowing like liquid mahogany. Kyouya was still for a moment, watching her in astonishment as his eyes trailed from the top of her head to the green grass to her feet.
She was beautiful, unlike any other maiden he has ever seen and his senses stirred.
"What brought you in my forest?" she asked to them. Kyouya was drawn and still and Haruhi took over.
"I need your help," she spoke and the Nymph approached them. The scent she wafted almost made Kyouya lose his mind.
"Name yourself."
"I'm Haruhi Fujioka, queen of Potiphero."
"Ah," she said. "I see. The forest of your kingdom was ruined. The sea creatures dispersed here."
"Yes," Haruhi said. "I want them back."
"But I will give you no such thing, Haruhi," the Nymph said. "I am Elka, the chieftain of the Nymphs. And even if the Redeemers have punished you, with the onslaught you have done with nature, it is still not enough."
Haruhi, in her whole life has never begged to anyone before.
"Please," she asked Elka, her voice sincere. "The kingdom will crumble down. We need your help."
"I refuse your request."
Kyouya was jolted out of his trance when the fox bit his leg and he jumped. He turned to the Nymph and cleared his head from any more stupid thoughts.
"Potiphero needs your help," he told her, his voice firm. The Nymph turned to him, surprised.
"And who are you?"
"I am her friend."
"Will you let it be?" Haruhi interrupted and the Nymph turned to look at her. "The people of Potiphero will die. Innocent blood will be spilt."
Elka scoffed, bemused. "And whose fault do you think it is?"
"It is mine," Haruhi said, her face filled with too many emotions, too many feelings. "It is my fault that it all came down to this. I know it is all my doing that the situation had turned out like this. But I beg of you; spare my people. Let them go. Do not make them suffer for the sin they have not committed."
Elka halted, her eyes searching hers as if looking for something that is hidden behind those brown orbs. They were unseeing, she knew but the Nymph had seen the conviction behind them. She had seen a lot of truth and this should be one of them.
The Nymph inhaled deeply with a brief smile. "Very well."
She reached her hand to put it on Haruhi's shoulder. "You have a strong heart, my dear and I felt it to mine."
Elka pulled back and stepped away. She looked at Haruhi and Kyouya and spoke, "I will give back the Water to your kingdom in one condition."
"What is it?" Kyouya asked.
"Do not ruin it again," Elka stated, her eyes capturing Haruhi's. "What say you?"
"I am the mother of Potiphero," she said. "And from now on, I will take care of the cradle my children lives in."
"Well said." The Nymph smiled and with a flick of her hand, everything went white.
. . . . . . .
Miles away from where they stood, in the outskirts of the forest where they were, the first drops of rain showered the kingdom of Potiphero. For the first time in years, the lifeless ground was pelted with water, the arid farmlands were at last irrigated, the rivers were back with life and stream. The trees were lush and green again.
For the first time in many years, the people rejoiced.
. . . . . . .
Haruhi lay on her side, ever so silent since they walked out of the riverbank. She hadn't spoken a word since and Kyouya wondered if twelve hours has already been over with.
"Can you still speak?" he asked, as he sat by the bonfire he had made, a few feet away from where she rested.
"Yes," she answered briefly and went back to silence.
Night had befallen and Kyouya enjoyed the stillness of it as he scooted closer to the fire he made. The fox had fallen asleep as well, and his horse was hunched over the grassy field, enjoying his late night meal. He turned his head back to look at her, her back on him and he wanted to ask if she was all right. He couldn't find his voice.
She suddenly sat up and Kyouya instantly returned his eyes on the flames of the bonfire.
"I was so cruel," she said more to herself than to anybody in particular. "And selfish. I led my people to destruction."
Kyouya contemplated her words for a while before he spoke. "It doesn't matter anymore, does it?"
"No, I let them suffer the punishment I deserved."
"Like I said, it doesn't matter anymore. Everything's fixed."
There was silence and Kyouya listened to her labored breathing. She took a sharp intake of breath and spoke again.
"Are you not disgusted by me?" she asked him. Kyouya turned carefully to her and he saw Haruhi through the dim light of the bonfire.
"If I am," he said carefully. "I would have left you in the woods alone already, wouldn't I?"
"I am a selfish queen," she reflected somewhat dizzily. "They will not forgive me."
"People change," he said quickly. "And just because you're a queen doesn't mean you're an exception."
She processed his words and when they registered correctly, she felt quite taken aback. Kyouya was right. Instead of dwelling in what was already done, she must look ahead. She had to look forward and save her people, not feel overwhelmed with the daggers of the past.
Kyouya turned back to the fire and Haruhi collapsed back on her side. "Kyouya," she said. He didn't turn but he was listening. "Thank you."
She understood now, the importance of her responsibility.
. . . . . . .
"AH!!"
Kyouya was jerked off from sleep when Haruhi screamed bloody murder on his ear. He winced painfully rubbed his freaking right ear and shot her a grim look.
"What do you think you were doing? Are trying to kill me?"
"Who's that?"
"Who's who?"
"That! Someone licked my ear!"
"What are you talking about? There—shit."
"What?" the fox howled and groaned in dismay.
"What is it?"
"Who the hell licked my nose?!"
A loud snickering disturbed their shouting and they all whipped their heads to the direction of the sound. They saw a creature, with wings as she hovered above their heads.
And they all screamed.
"What the—who are you?" Kyouya was able to pull back the last of his senses.
"Elka sent me here," the creature said. "I'm Emirion," she told them with a smile. "I'm a Nymph."
"Wha—why did she a—?"
Her lips moved, but no sound came out.
"Haruhi?"
". . ."
Haruhi clutched her throat.
They had to get out of this forest and quick.
. . . . . . .
They made their way back out of the forest with Emirion, as Kyouya hugged Haruhi close, providing her warmth and comfort. Soon, they arrived at the kingdom and the castle gates were opened for them as soon as they saw the queen. Kyouya put her down on the bed of her room and the servants rushed over to his aid.
"Are you feeling all right?" Kyouya asked as he sat down on the nearest chair next to the bed. Haruhi nodded once.
The next thing that happened seemed like a sudden blur. The wind swooshed and the room was enveloped into darkness as two figures loomed. Haruhi pulled herself up and sat straight, her browns furrowing in concern. Kyouya had stood in alarm. He froze on his tracks as the two figures came to view. One was a woman and the other was a man, their bodies clothed with black, their faces hooded, and their teeth sharp.
"I have to say I am disappointed, Akira," the woman spoke, her voice menacing. "We have underestimated you, my queen."
The two figures approached the bed and Kyouya stepped in front of them. "No."
The man whipped his hand to the right and Kyouya was flung eastward. He hit the wall with a violent crash and he landed curled bitterly on the floor.
"You are a powerful woman," Akira spoke with the same tone as his companion. "And even you were able to fool Elka."
He reached his hand and touched her eyes. With the wave of it, Haruhi saw again. The eyes were red, their faces with no remorse.
"But even if you did so," the woman continued. She copied the actions of the man and aimed her hands on Haruhi's throat. "Your life will not be any better from now on."
"Because the people will hate you," Akira continued he waved his hands a few inches above her feet. "For the suffering you had made them go through."
With a sinister laugh, they vanished in thin air.
Soon, it was over.
Haruhi breathed in and looked at the figure curled on the floor. She threw the sheets off and rushed to help him.
. . . . . . .
Out in the walls of the palace, the people were in chaos. They were gathered in a large fleet in front of the castle walls, shouting and protesting at the top of their voices.
"Bring the queen down!"
"Leave the castle!"
"Surrender!"
The people had come together to knock the gates of the royal palace down. They were almost successful in doing it.
"What are we gonna do?" the royal adviser asked the queen who watched the crowd roar in protest.
"Shouldn't you be the one who's supposed to know?" Kyouya asked him as he stood right next to her. He searched for her hand and he squeezed it tightly. "Are you ready?"
"What—what ready? What are you talking about?" the adviser asked, his eyes shifting from Kyouya to Haruhi.
Haruhi gave a last look at the crowd in front of the castle before she spoke. "Yes, I'm ready."
. . . . . . .
"Get your ass here and face us!" one woman screamed.
"You made us suffer so much, you're going to pay!" another one did.
And another one. And another one and another until the voices were barely decipherable. They were silenced when the gates suddenly opened and some of them stumbled forward. Haruhi was there, exposed to all of them. They were quiet for a while, contemplating what just happened.
One woman with red hair recovered fast. "Move out of the palace at once!"
"Go down! You don't deserve that throne!"
"You destroyed us!"
Haruhi looked at each one of them, her brown eyes filled with emotions.
"I apologize!" she bowed her head, so low her nose almost reached the grass.
A queen does not apologize to anyone.
She raised her head to look up to them. Haruhi stood up straight and spoke. "I know I have wronged all of you. I have failed to serve you as a queen. I have let you suffer too much. I have been selfish.
"But I am just among you. I am human and I have flaws. So please forgive me."
A queen does not beg.
"Give me another chance to prove myself. Give me a chance to change."
Haruhi bowed again and the crowd was silent.
But even if you are the queen, or even if you hold the highest position in the world, you are still human. You have flaws, you fall down and at the same time, you struggle to stand up
She raised her eyes, meeting each pair with sincerity and candor, like a queen's words: true and unbroken.
And they understood.
And even if the people have suffered enough, they will forgive. Because they are also human.
. . . . . . .
They moved in astonishing gracefulness, each step calculated, each step polished with refinement and in harmony with the beat of the music. The music was soft and mellow; the lights were dim and seductive. It was a feast, a feast for forgiveness, a feast for everyone.
A feast that is very much different.
Kyouya has two left feet, and he faintly wondered as he inhaled the scent of her and enjoyed the close proximity of their bodies, how he can move and glide along with her without stepping on her foot. But he smiled and she did too and the silence was comforting, the soft beat of the music humming to them like a beautiful lullaby.
"Are you going to stay?" she was the first to break the silence.
He contemplated for a moment, while digging his face on the crook of her neck. "No," he blew on the skin.
"Why not?" She tried to mask her disappointment but to no avail.
"Well, I hate to say but I have a home now," he told her and her spirits were lifted up. "But I can't leave my responsibility to my comrade, that scalawag fox."
She was silent and waited for him to continue.
"I still need to find the perpetrators of his, er, current situation."
"I think being a fox suits him better."
"Nah, I don't really think so. He bites."
Kyouya twirled her around and she chuckled. He caught her hand fast. "When are you returning?"
"Soon," he answered quickly, even though he wasn't certain. "Maybe in a few weeks . . . or a month."
"Or a year?"
"Or maybe a year," he confirmed. "You should wait for me."
They stopped and looked at each other for a moment.
"I will wait," she told him, like a queen's word: true and unbroken.
He smiled; she did too. Kyouya leaned in to meet her kiss.
They stayed like that for a moment, as if they were the only two people there and Kyouya enjoyed the moment. Haruhi pulled away too soon, but he pressed his forehead on hers, afraid to break the spell that bound them. He kissed her again, this time longer, deeper. He let everything go because suppressing himself, they both knew, wouldn't do them any good.
They smile again, as they break apart. Because words are not needed. And because Kyouya had already understood. With every fleck of hazel her eyes radiated, he had understood.
. . . . . . .
She watched their retreating form as the three figures disappeared behind the massive gates of the castle. She smiled, a content smile, and Haruhi knew; that it was time to make new history. It was only the beginning.
. . . . . . .
END
A/N(Mid-typing):I'm typing this on my laptop while sitting on one a wooden chair, my ass hurts like hell. Been for twelve hours.
A/N (Post-typing): I wonder why I make a lot of these notes. Sorry if it sucks. The middle part of it looks like it has been rushed. Truth is; it was. What a surprise. Procrastination is so, so cool, you feel like it's eating you alive. Reviews, people, are appreciated especially if the writer spent one whole day typing this up (while her ass hurts) and more than a month thinking of the plot (while she tries to pull all her hair out just to squeeze something from that pulp brain of hers). Guess what: it's all just for you. Isn't it nice to think that way?