[Dream of Death and Lonely Lands]
The sun was warm on his face, despite the cool air blowing in gently from the ocean. The brightness of it made his sallow skin seem even more pale - almost dead. But he was almost dead. As good as it, anyway.
He couldn't really feel the sun on his face, or the cool breeze that blew the long, silvery locks about his body. He couldn't feel the sand crunch beneath his shoes, or feel the silkiness of the water over his skin. Because none of it was real.
That girl had brought him to this place. Hokuto. He would be interested to know what she had done at this lovely place, but he couldn't ask her. He couldn't ask anybody.
Because he was alone.
He was always alone. There hadn't been a soul in a long while. Well, that wasn't completely true. Kotori, the sister of the second Kamui; she had come by, and left. It was tragic that she had to die, but he had come to accept it. It wasn't so hard. He had seen this occurance years before; he had known the day, the hour, the minute. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, he knew the second, and why, and where, and how, despite having dreamed those dreams years ago.
That death hadn't been as hard to bear as the other. Kotori was ready. She wouldn't have been able to bear witnessing the bloody battle that would occur between her love and her brother. It was better for her, and after
Hokuto . . . Well, he had accepted that he could not change it.
It was a difficult lesson that he had been forced to learn. Kakyou wasn't thrilled with the way it was taught, either, but he supposed it got the point across. He just wished . . . if only he had met her sooner. It may have been possible . . .
"Damn," he shook his head, sitting in the grass, looking down at the shimmering waters below. He forced the thought away. There was nothing; absolutely nothing that could have been done to prevent it. Destiny was inescapable. He could no more run from destiny than he could get up and run from his bed. Though he wished he could do both.
It would have been wonderful to leap up from his bed, to open his eyes and be free, or even to die, to experience paradise. Not to live in this achingly lonely place; the place to which only dreamseerers and other magicians could travel. He longed to walk freely again, if not to change a thing, then to be held, to hold . . . somebody. To experience what was rightfully his - what was taken from him when Hokuto was killed.
Hokuto. It would have been bliss to know her. She was such a beautiful woman. Attractive on the outside, but stunning揺oly熔n the inside.
He didn't hate Seishirou, but he hated what was done. He secretly cheered whenever the Seals had a victory. He cheered quite loudly whenever a particular Seal won a victory. He wished Sumeragi Subaru the happiness that he couldn't have. They were similar. He had seen him in a dream once, he had seen his longing for his sister, for a more innocent time, and he had cried with the onmyouji in his dream. They wanted the same thing. They both wanted their powers to be unneeded; they both wanted the innocence of the world to prevail, but they had also both learned that such innocence would not be preserved as long as there was evil in the world.
Another difficult lesson.
His green eyes scanned the horizon. If he imagined hard enough, he could see her there, enjoying the freedom of the dream world. He could see her knowing smile, her gentle hands. He would have done anything to hold her again. Again? He laughed, he had never really held her. If only . . .
But one could dream away his life with if onlies. He laughed again: he was dreaming his life away. And nobody was around to scold him for it, either. He had trapped himself in this world. As Kotori had trapped herself, hiding from the tragedy of reality, so had he. But it was a more peaceful place, despite the dreams, despite the reality he could not hide from. He did not have to live with the guilt of seeing, and being unable to prevent.
He would rather live alone, aging without love or hope, than live, awake and free, with the knowledge of what would become, and unable to do derail the ever-moving train of fate. And he knew he could not do anything. If there was only one lesson to be learned from her, it was that one.
Silently預lways silently揺e stood, turning from the shore, and letting the scenery fade into a darkness; a darkness that would soon be consumed with more prophecy, with more foreseeing of destruction.
How long would it be until the end?
It didn't matter; end of the world, end of the battle, or merely the end of his life. Nothing really mattered. It was only lonliness. He had come to accept it. To embrace it. Because he knew that without her, that was his destiny. Because of their destiny葉o fight, to destroy, to kill揺e was doomed to his.
To be alone.