Disclaimer : All characters and places belong to their respective owners, ©2004-2008.
A/N: I have mixed emotions, but I feel Not to say this latest entry is bad, but I feel this is not one of my best works. Perhaps it is because of the quasi-vignette vibes I'm getting off of it. Nevertheless, I have posted this for all to see. There is even mention of an upcoming story, Punch Through the STONE CIRCLE, which will be the last fanfic I'll be adding to The Bygone Years Saga, thus making the archive twelve in number.
Hanabi is the NINTH piece in the TBY timeline, set two years before StrikerS, three years before the first MLR fanfic.
The Bygone Years:
Hanabi
"Sasa no ha sara-sara,
Nokiba ni yureru.
Ohoshi-sama kira-kira
Kin Gin sunago."
"The bamboo leaves rustle, rustle,
shaking away in the eaves.
The stars go twinkle-twinkle;
Gold and silver strains of sand."
-- Traditional Tanabata song
August 7
The night was cool and crisp, a perfect setting for an event in the month of midsummer. The sky was cloudless, covering the world in a cloak of cobalt and indigo, and the stars in heaven glimmered like cities made of diamond. Under it lay an assembly of cars unguarded and fenced in barbwire. Their interiors were dark and undisturbed, for the setting which they were in was a scrap yard, an open cemetery usually teeming of hardhats.
Tonight, however, was a special occasion. The graves would be silent.
But they would not be alone.
Perched atop one of these vehicles, a Mazda Protegè with a smashed in hood, Arf guzzled down a wine cooler. She gave a happy sigh, content with her fill the sharp, refreshing taste the beverage provided. Setting it next to the pack she had brought at her side, the Familiar leaned back against the dented windshield, neck craned to the stellular panorama.
It was a favorite past-time of theirs, hers and Fate's, back before hell and drama broke loose in the Garden of Time. Laying spread-eagle out in the fields where grass stretched as far as the eye could see, staring beyond space while they waited for the dark to come. Fireflies would glow in those tall, wild patches and dandelion seeds would be kicked up by a tender breeze and float in the air like the first fuzzy snowflakes of winter. Whether or not there would be the musky flavor of wet grass and rain (as it often stormed a lot in those days) wouldn't affect the manner the two girls. Lost in the cosmic panorama they would be borne on silver wings and drift among the boundless sea of myth and dream, far away from a world of responsibilities and war and politics.
Oh, how she wished dearly for those years to be returned! How she wished to relive the years of her creation by Fate's (and, perhaps in a different time, Alicia's) side, live to the fullest with no hate, no corruption, no sin, no greed to rob them of their love-abided purpose!
As much as she yearned those lost desires, Arf had to remember why their lives were the way they were. Had it not been for Precia's descent to madness, she and Fate would never have bonded so well. Had it not been for Precia's power-starved mind, they would not have gone to Earth. Had it not been for the Lost Logia, the gods-damned Jewel Seeds, they would not have met Nanoha Takamachi and Yuuno Scrya. Had it not been for their intervention in that search, they would not have severed the chains of that painful past. Had it not been for the Time-Space Administration Bureau, they would not have the jobs they currently possessed. Had it not been for Nanoha's determination to pull Fate from that lonely abyss and break down the walls imprisoning the colors of her heart Fate, and Arf herself, would never have changed on their bleak, cruel existence.
More importantly, what would it be like . . . if Nanoha, Yuuno and the Administration Bureau had never been there, never existed or even, she cringed slightly, failed to intercede their Mistress's plans? What then would the world, no, the universe be like?
Arf did not dare finish that thought. It was obvious enough that Precia's fall lead them to where they were today. The weather was cool as it was to allow some discomfort. She did not need more than what was given to her.
So she snatched another bottle and popped the cap, chugging half of it in one gulp. The crisp, subtle taste of lemon and alcohol slid down her throat and pooled in her stomach like a powerful cataract. Tonight was supposed to be special. Tonight she was going to see the heavens glow. There was no need for pain to lead her astray. It was water under the bridge, as the Earthlings put it.
There was only then and now.
That thought was made more apparent at the sound of approaching footsteps. Russet orbs lifted from the bottle's rim, staring and blinking at the open darkness. A shape stepped into the cone of a street lamp, and she smiled at who she saw.
"Yuuno!" called the Familiar. The small young man shuffled around, glancing to and fro. "Yuuno! Over here!"
Yuuno turned in the direction of her voice and gave a relieved sigh upon seeing her. "Ah, hello, Arf. I wasn't quite expecting to meet you all the way out here." He adjusted his glasses absently. "Is this the right place?"
"You bet your ferret-changing smarts it is!" the dog-woman exclaimed. She held up the wine cooler in her hand, grinning. "Make yourself comfortable! . . . Watch your ste--" BANG went the dumpster as Yuuno collided with it in his rush inside the scrap yard. Arf winced.
"I'm okay," he stuttered.
"No need to rush. We're early for the show. Have a seat." She patted a spot on the hood next to her. Yuuno clambered up the Protegè and turned around, drawing his knees to his chest. "Excited?"
He nodded. "Oh yes. I'm glad we got the week off. All work and no play can make anyone as dull as Jack."
"Heh. Yeah."
"I'm surprised you're not with Nanoha and the others. Wouldn't you rather be in their company instead of being alone with little ol' me?"
"But I like being with little ol' you!" Arf swung an arm over the change-ling's shoulders, pulled him in a head-lock and rubbed her knuckles along his scalp. "You gotta appreciate the good things in life, my friend!"
Yuuno coughed. "Aggh! Too tight. . . ! Too . . . tight!"
"After all, I appreciate these times we share together. I like hangin' out with you, and not just as co-workers floating along the Infinity Library." She released the poor man, leaving him to take deep breaths and shudder. She watched him with a wry smile. "Oh come on, it wasn't like I was trying to crush you. Here," she grabbed a bottle from the pack and handed it to him, "have one."
He took it and mumbled a thanks. Arf craned her neck to the stars, bearing a wistful expression. All was quiet save for the archivist opening the decanter and the scattered chorus of crickets between and beneath the assembled automobiles. The cool breeze and the chills it sent went unnoticed by the pair.
"Arf," said Yuuno after taking a few sips, "the reason why I'm here. . . . There's more to it, isn't there? You didn't bring me this far out to reminisce the old days or watch the fireworks. There's something on your mind."
The Familiar did not look to move nor answer him.
"Arf . . . what's bothering you? What's on your mind?"
At first it seemed she did not hear him, or perhaps she was gathering her thoughts to form a coherent sentence. Moments passed and no reply came. He figured it to be the former, but he had the tiniest hints of an inkling the dog-woman was lost in the depths of her own memories. He was ready to repeat his query when she finally spoke, a hushed and solemn tone he never expected to hear from her.
"Tell me, Yuuno," she began slowly, "how old are Nanoha and Fate?"
Yuuno was taken aback by this, but her voice told him otherwise. So he said: "Seventeen."
"Seventeen," she whispered in awe. Then louder, stronger, more amazed. "Seventeen! By the Gods, Yuuno! Can you believe it? Our girls are growing up! Growing taller, stronger, wiser. . . . Gods, Yuuno, where has the time gone? What happened to our little girls?"
"They went with time. Eight years and eight incarnations have come and gone. It's only when we look back on it that we wonder why we haven't noticed those changes."
"It feels like an eternity. It feels like I've never been in the past in the first place."
"Well, when you're off fighting criminal mages, sealing Lost Logia and busting some heads for the Administration-Bureau, things like that make you forget the simplest details." The man chuckled. "Time sure flies when you're having fun."
"It's been so long," breathed Arf, staring down the length of the bottle into its colorless depths. "So long since I've seen them as children and not as adults. I mean, when was the last time you looked at Nanoha, Yuuno? Truly gave her a good look and wondered When has she gotten so mature? When did she start growing up? I know have."
She lifted her head, eyes far and thoughtful. "Fate was nine, nine, when we were involved in the Lost Logia conspiracy. She was so innocent, so obedient. Then she was fifteen during the Fallout and the Jirai Experiment(1) and I think to myself how much she's changed and how different she is from the kid I used to watch over and care for twenty-four-seven. Now. . . . Now I . . . ."
There was a pregnant pause. Condensation formed on the forgotten bottles in their hands.
"Arf," said Yuuno gently. He chose his words as if he were treading thin ice, "there's nothing we can do to reverse the flow of time. The past is the past. If you keep holding onto it, you won't be able to go forward. Life goes on and we move with it. We age. We grow. We learn. We love. We hate. We fight. We bleed. We think. We believe. Most of all, we remember what is most important to us.
"I understand what you're going through." His thumb brushed away the gathered moisture, gaze fixed to the black-blue paint of the car. "I, myself, look back on those days when I first taught Nanoha the manipulation of magic and barriers and telepathy. She took to them eagerly because they were new to her. She took to her role as a mage because it gave her confidence and made her stronger, more sure of herself in her place in the world. It was her duty to protect and defend, and with this knowledge she saved Fate from walking the path that would have ultimately doomed them both." He turned emerald portals to terracotta irises. "Had it not been for them and the actions and consequences of time past, none of us would be here right now. Everything that we know and will know is only a dream away."
"And no matter what, we accept it," Arf mused aloud, "because that's the way things are in life. Is that how it goes?"
"Pretty much."
"Then I'll do what's best and live with it, but it won't stop me from thinking of those two as the pint-sized squirts competing for the most Jewel Seeds."
"They'll always be those pint-sized squirts, Arf."
"Seventeen and still countin'," she added amidst the soft thudding of fireworks. "And just think, Yuuno, where they'll be two-three years from now. Wanna bet they'll be down the road by then?"
"Oh, most definitely." The change-ling downed a portion of the cooler and licked his lips. "They will. One of them's going to have to confess eventually."
"I can't wait for that day."
Their talk ceased, melded the cracks of silence as colorful flashes erupted spectacularly and tossed their rays unto Earth. Of reds, of blues, of greens, of yellows and oranges and purples, Arf and Yuuno Scrya allowed themselves to be drawn to the man-made prisms.
Elsewhere, surrounded by the peoples of Uminari and the S.S. Asura's contingent of the Time-Space Administration Bureau, fingers stroked tenderly the cream-colored hand peering out the yukata sleeve. Fate's deep wine eyes diverted from the bursting display to Nanoha, whose face bears surprise. They held their gaze unblinkingly, standing in a calm eternity.
Then the Ace of Aces turns away, bowing her head in embarrassment.
Unknown to Fate, Nanoha has counted herself thankful for the night hiding the blush staining her cheeks.
Unknown to Nanoha, Fate has been confronted with another question:
'Do you feel the same as I do?'
For the next year it goes unanswered.
However, in the end, the steel-strong yarn spun from the Wheel of Time continued. And beneath their feet, a road started to formed . . . .
(1) See Punch Through the STONE CIRCLE.