To the Woman of His Future
They have met, once. And it was a very long time ago.
But to her, the people you can't see are the people who matter most of all.
She couldn't see the photos, but her father had given her a detailed description.
The first would be of him and her, on their graduation. Her hair would be slightly disarrayed, and his would be more or less, as per usual, messy. A couple of times, he probably ran a hand through his head, and a few more times, it was all her doing.
The photo under that would be of the whole class, with their goofy expressions and teary eyes. She knew later on from firsthand that it wouldn't be of the distance from each other, but their distance from the Academy.
She wished she was there.
Before then, she was such a spoiled brat. She wanted everything to go her own way with just one snap of the finger. She was used to it, because of her family and friends. Then things changed— and she had to change with it. It was like moving to a new school, and if you were a princess in your own kingdom, you couldn't be a princess in another man's empire. She became the damsel in distress, trapped behind the steels caging her like an animal from the rest of the world.
She became worse than being demoted from royal duties.
She became nobody.
She became nobody with no one.
Or so she thought.
Sure, she couldn't remember the exact date, but she knew how the day was. It was somewhat cold because winter was fast approaching. She had been given a thick wooly sweater and a very warm coat, but nothing could compare to human comfort. Then, out of the blue, they were there, and she couldn't have asked for anything better for Christmas.
Her hands came across to a slightly creased letter from the many times she opened it. Of course, she couldn't read it, but she was told what it says. And when she found out, she cried.
Keep this safe for us, will you? We'll get by soon.
It had been years since she last felt him. All those times before, she was only allowed to hear his voice.
Just his voice.
They weren't even allowed to touch.
Just his voice.
When he came to take her away months after graduation, he grew mad, finding out that he couldn't even assist her home. They weren't allowed to touch in their brief moment together, just talk, but it was better for them. She knew that if she held his hand, she'd find it rough and calloused, and he'd have to take his hand away.
But holding a personal letter, it was like finally feeling him, for the first time in such a long time. It gave her the assurance that it was true, that in all those years, he never left her. Not once.
And he never did.
She moved to continue the random flipping but then was disturbed by a car pulling over. She knew it was for them; the nearest house was a couple of hundred meters away.
They were here.
So she stepped off her bed, clutching on her hands a simple letter she managed to write last night. Slowly, she descended down the stairs.
She was, after all, used to moving in the dark.
To Mikan Sakura,
Please take care of my brother.
Love, Aoi Hyuuga.
A/N This was primarily inspired by Taciturn. Majority wanted a happy ending, but I naturally couldn't give that. So here is the next best thing: an open ending and an assurance that yes, they did meet (although it was loosely on Taxed). I think I'm doing another one but as a new story so it can stand on its own; the tentative title would be "Hello Dad, Meet My Wife".
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