RECLAIM THE STARS

Notes: Originally written for the Livejournal community 24hour_themes, each of the 24 chapters will be based on a themed prompt noted at the top of the chapter. This series begins post Twilight Tales and continues for approximately 5-7 years. The order in which they are written and uploaded is the order in which they should be read. This is what I call "canon-compliant AU", which means that it draws heavily on my own interpretations and theories about the largely-unknown world of Aquavitae, and yet stays within the boundaries of what Kumakura has outlined as possible.

This was originally posted under my previous account, but has been taken down to avoid confusion. My sincere apologies to anyone who'd previously reviewed this fic under that upload.

Disclosure
7AM | hope, improved insight and perspective.

It was a lazy summer evening in Ginelico. The recently descended sun still cast its molten glow over the quaint city, tracing the copper peaks of the rooftops. A tired breeze, no longer baked into stillness by the oppressive daytime heat, ruffled the black hair of the young man leaning on the balcony of an inn's upper level. His eyes were closed, sensing rather than watching the peaceful ambiance of the urbanity below. Jing allowed the quietude to soothe him, although his keen hearing easily identified the surrounding sounds. The wooden clatter of wagon wheels on the cobbled street; the swish of the broom against stone as the innkeeper swept the stoop; the rustle of paper in the room behind him, where Kir was scribing a letter whose destination was a place notably colder than their present locale.

It was hard to believe, he thought as he watched the innkeeper finish sweeping and begin lighting the lamps at the entrance, that over a month had passed since his and Kir's birthday. They had celebrated it with their usual indulgences - good food, wine for Kir (and unlimited cocoa for himself) and a spree of spontaneous gift-giving whenever anything caught their eye. It had been memorable and more importantly, thoroughly enjoyed... but as the year matured into the summer months, he wondered when it would sink in that he was nineteen now, considered an adult in nearly every aspect as Aquavitae recognized them.

He didn't feel like an adult, and for that he was grateful.

Kir alighted on the balcony railing next to him, and the thief finally opened his eyes to warmly regard his partner. "All finished writing your dirty jokes down?" he teased.

"Nah," the albatross answered, flexing his wing to ease the cramp developing there. "Takin' a break... turned out to be a lot longer than I expected."

Jing remained surprised that Kir could even write at all, simply because wings were not designed to grip instruments like pens, and prolonged use of his extremities in such an unnatural manner continued to give him difficulty. Jing had offered on more than one occasion to write the letters if Kir wanted to dictate them, but the albatross remained stubbornly adamant that he could do it himself. The first few attempts had been barely legible, but he had steadily improved and now took a certain pride in it. His spelling however still left something to be desired.

"D'you know there's still snow on the ground in Pompier?" Kir was saying, shaking his head in disbelief. "It's summer here and Fino still needs boots to go outside."

"I'm sure she's used to it by now," Jing murmured. Fino and her avian companion, the Bird of Paradise (who had finally chosen Minzé as a name) kept in regular contact with the Bonded pair, sending them letters every few months which Kir received eagerly and wrote back with much enthusiasm. Jing tended to include his own greetings within the envelops, but left the (often embellished) recounts of their adventures in his partner's storytelling flair.

"I was thinking..." Kir began, waiting until he had Jing's attention before continuing. "Maybe we could go visit them again... longer this time, we only stayed two days the last time we went."

Jing draped his arms over the railing and considered. The handful of times they had returned to Pompier in the last few years, the thief had noticed a surprising change in the albatross. Where he had initially flirted with Fino, as he flirted with nearly every girl he met, his attitude now seemed more protective of her. To Jing's surprise, it was around Minzé that he displayed an uncharacteristic affability, although his usual brashness was curtailed by the female's no-nonsense attitude. Despite Kir's continued libido towards human women, it seemed that his affections had found a place with one not unlike himself.

Jing wondered if his partner was falling in love and wondered what that would mean for them, if it were true. Kir was still waiting for an answer, and the thief smiled a little. "Sure," he replied. "How long were you thinking of?"

"I dunno," was the shrugged answer, although Jing detected a hint of embarrassment in his tone. "They keep saying we're welcome to stay as long as we want..."

The young man captured the avian in a lopsided albeit companionable hug, which Kir tolerated with a good natured groan, and then straightened. "Well, think about it. There's no hurry to decide right tonight, after all."

The morning came, already humid by dawn and shrouding the city in a haze of mist. Having woken uncharacteristically early, Jing pressed his finger to the mirror's surface above the wash basin, and left a single spot of cleared glass. They'd left the balcony doors open to take advantage of the breeze, and now the room had a thin patina of dew and the faint scent of the sea. Kir slept contently, nestled into the bed's second pillow, unaware of the lightening sky or his companion's wakened state.

Stepping once more out onto the balcony, Jing was contemplating returning to bed for another hour's sleep when a new sound reached him; familiar but not concurrent with the typical sounds of this town. It was the engine putter of a motorbike idling, and Jing's gaze located the source in the alley across the street. The polished gleam of the single headlamp caught the first few rays of the newborn sun. Jing lifted a hand to wave at the omnipresent mailman, and Postino seemed to mimic the gesture... but the motion changed, and became beckoning, and then the engine was turned off as the rider waited.

Now the thief was intrigued. Although he and Kir frequently ran into Postino on their travels, the mail carrier rarely stayed in their presence more than a few minutes. He was always on a route, always heading for the next delivery - which coincidentally was usually in the direction they ended up traveling. Sometimes he would toss a cryptic piece of advice their way (and Jing, who prided himself on figuring out even the most impossible riddles, often couldn't make heads or tails of some of them) and he always seemed to know when Kir's letters were ready to be taken to Pompier.

Except this time. Kir's letter to Fino and Minzé remained unfinished on the table.

Jing looked again at the immobile figure sitting patiently astride the cycle, wondering if perhaps Fino had sent another letter without waiting for a reply, and decided the only way to find out was to ask. Giving his slumbering partner a quick glance - he wouldn't be gone too long - Jing descended the stairs and exited the inn, crossing the empty street. His expression spoke clearly of his curiosity and he stopped a few feet from Postino. "Didn't want your bike to wake the neighbours?" he chuckled. "They might see us and gossip."

Although a faint grin tugged at Postino's mouth, his expression remained serious. Too serious, Jing felt with a sudden chill, to be just a casual meeting. Postino had sought him out. "What is it?"

Yet the mailman hesitated, finally replying, "This usually isn't part of my job." The bizarre preface to the conversation would, in retrospect, be the most normal part of it. "I'm not supposed to have any judgment to the contents of the mail I carry, as long as it's not against the carrier rules. I'm definitely not supposed to talk about the contents with anyone other than the sender or receiver. But I think this is something you're supposed to know. Go to Shouchu in the next few days."

"Huh?" Jing said, baffled by the strange conversation. "Shouchu?" His clever mind ran the name through his memory, but produced only a vague recollection of even hearing the area, and not in relation to any treasure he could recall. "What for? Wait, what does you reading people's mail have to do with me? You're not going to get fired or something, are you? You'd better not-"

Postino's expression didn't waver. He pulled his goggles down around his neck and fixed Jing with a piercing stare, and the thief fell silent. The mailman almost never took off his goggles; he could only recall one other time, and that was when Postino had delivered his mother's dying gift to him.

"Shouchu," he repeated, and after a moment, Jing nodded mutely.

"Can't you even give me an idea of what's going on?" he said, aware that he sounded vaguely petulant.

Postino replaced his goggles, then kick-started the motorcycle. The engine surged briefly before settling into its habitual tempo. "Cassis," he said finally, and pulled out of the alley while Jing stared, too shocked to call after him.

Kir was still sleeping when Jing let himself back into the room, but stirred when the thief sat on the bed. He opened his eyes to find Jing looking pale, his grey eyes unfocused as though he'd taken a blow to the head and was dazed.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Kir demanded, instantly worried.

Slowly, Jing's gaze turned to him. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "But we're not going to be able to go to Pompier right away. We have to go somewhere else first."

Kir blinked. "Where?"

"Shouchu."