A/N: I DON'T OWN WOLF'S RAIN! Okay, this is my first actual fanfic so PLEASE be gentle. This is one-shot was inspired by the scene in episode 12 where Cheza was looking at Harmona after Jagura killed her. There might be SLIGHT hints of yuri, but it's all in how you view it. Anyway, ENJOY!
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"She was as beautiful in death as she was in life."
--from 13 Ghosts
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When Harmona died, Cheza saw her for the first time.
Her body was pale and appeared small in the large bed she was in. Her hair was a strange greenish-blonde color, but it suited her. It was long enough to cover her body like pieces of silk, and even in death, it was still shiny. Even though her eyes had been dulled with death, Cheza could see that they were once a beautiful shade of purple. Her lips had been painted purple as well, but Cheza could see that they were turning pale beneath the coloring.
Cheza could see why Darcia had loved her so much.
Cautiously—oh so cautiously—Cheza took a step towards Harmona. Darcia tensed but said nothing. She gently placed her hand on Harmona's and wrapped her fingers around the limp hand. She started to sing.
"Don't do that," Darcia said, but Cheza couldn't stop singing.
In her mind's eye, it was mid-spring, and Cheza saw a woman with pale skin, long hair and purple eyes and lips. She was dressed in silk that was the color of pale lavenders, and she was smiling. Her skin was being warmed by the sun, and she could smell the flowers. The grass was warm beneath her feet, and she was happy.
"Don't do that," Darcia repeated, but still Cheza didn't stop, and her grip on Harmona's hand tightened.
She was spinning in circles, dancing to a song only she could hear. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue; the grass was fragrant, and the waters were clear. Flowers were everywhere in all shades and sizes. The leaves of the trees shook in the wind, making a soft whispering sound. Birds chirped every once in a while, and the scales of the fish sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight.
The woman was happy. The world was beautiful. She was in paradise, and she didn't want to leave it. She didn't want to leave one paradise for another that might not exist. She was happy just where she was.
For several glorious moments, she was happy.
"DON'T DO THAT!" Darcia's hand swung around, and Cheza let out a gasp as she felt Darcia's hand connect with her cheek, and her singing stopped.
Her body landed on the floor with a loud thud, and she was still. Her ribs were sore, and her cheek stung, but her palm and fingers were warm.
Even in death, she is the spring.
Cheza slowly closed her hand, trying to hang onto the last bit of spring when the rest had given away to winter.