Forgotten Memories
By Aurae
Pretty Soldier Sailor Moon © Takeuchi Naoko, Kodansha Publishing, and TOEI Animation; no infringement is intended or should be inferred. Sailor Aranis/Arina/Princess Armai & Daeva © Aurae 2007; not available for public use.
The wind that breezed through the open window was cool and restless. The night sky looked black and empty; the light pollution of Tokyo's megalopolis dimmed even the brightest stars. A faint scent of rain lingered in the air. Daeva sat at the window, his lithe charcoal form almost blending in with the nighttime darkness, prevented only by the weak glow of a desk lamp inside the room.
Two large, multi-hued eyes glanced at the cat's slender form from across the room. Small, pale hands carefully placed a pen to the side of the desktop and folded neatly atop the final page of an essay.
Slowly, the feline turned. He could feel her cold eyes watching him—that same unpleasant tingling sensation. It made her seem alien. Then again, there was so much that made her seem impassive and blank. The sparks of life were almost buried under the façade she upheld so well. So much that it was almost unbelievable that there would be anything else to her at all.
Yet, there must be. Somewhere was the girl he had fallen in love with, so very long ago. The others used to…talk about her, sometimes. They could never understand it. He wasn't sure how he had understood—if he had understood. Maybe he hadn't. She had never opened up to him, after all. Even though he tried had so hard…but everything he did was wrong. That beautiful smile that had illuminated his heart was never directed towards him.
"Arina…" the cat uttered softly, barely a whisper. It felt taboo to break the silence.
Those rainbow-colored eyes were still so cold. They barely acknowledged him. Nervously, Daeva paced the windowsill; his smooth, gray hair shimmering with reflected light. Somewhere…his princess had to be there, somewhere.
"Have you remembered any of your past, yet? As the Princess Armai?"
The dreams flooded back to her. The whispers behind closed doors. The sobs of families torn apart. The echo of wedding bells. The screams of pain. The palace in flames.
"No," she lied.
The End