Happy Valentine's Day! Enjoy some ten-years-after Amuto.
It's far too late for Amu's liking when she stumbles out of the office building, inhaling the chilly January air and trying to reorganize her mind. She hates meetings, and this one was no exception. It's a miracle it finished before midnight.
She's not looking forward to the lengthy walk to the train station either, especially with the biting cold threatening to freeze her face off. She'd call a taxi, but for how long would she be standing out here waiting for one? It's probably better than stumbling around in the snow searching for the train station, though, and so she parks herself on the curb and waits.
The snow is still falling, light and powdery as it settles on the streets in great drifts. The city lights illuminate the winter scene, casting harsh beams over the bustling streets. London's a beautiful city to be sure, but Amu can't spend any time sightseeing with all the work she has piled up. It's a shame, but then again, she wouldn't be here if not for her work.
Amu's so busy wallowing in her thoughts that she almost misses the lone black taxi ambling down the street at a leisurely pace, obviously looking for a customer. She almost falls over as she leaps to her feet, shouting, "Taxi! Taxi!"
It slows to a halt and she hurries to the front window. The cabbie, whose face is pretty much hidden by all the hats and scarves he's wearing, mumbles, "Where to?"
"Millenium London Mayfair, please," she says, hopping in the back seat.
"Alright," he replies, starting the engine and driving off into the night. The divider is down and Amu wonders briefly if she should be initiating some small talk, but it's 11 PM and she doubts this man is feeling exactly energetic. Besides, her English is barely good enough for her to survive in London. She doesn't want to embarrass herself by messing up and sounding like an idiot.
But she's forced to speak when the taxi slows to a halt at an intersection. Peering out the window, she sees two cars, both badly disfigured, sprawled on the road outside. The drivers are standing outside, yelling furiously at one another while a policewoman hurriedly steps out of a car to subdue them.
"Well, look at that," the cabbie says as he shifts the car to reverse and starts down a different road. "Must be the ice. I'm lucky I haven't got into an accident so far this winter."
This is too much of a conversation starter to just ignore, so Amu answers tentatively,
"Well, I have heard that taxi drivers here are quite good."
He must have picked up on her accent, because his speech immediately becomes slow and deliberate.
"That's true. I had to study for almost three years to memorize all the streets around here."
Amu surprises herself by continuing to speak. "How long have you been driving?"
"Not long, I only got my permit a few months ago," he says as he turns left. "This isn't exactly what I'd like to do with my life, but…"
"It is not your primary choice of job?" Amu questions, trying not to turn red as she realizes how awkward that sounded.
"I ended up in London chasing after some carefree dream I had in high school," he says with a sigh. "But money only lasts so long, and dreams rarely come true."
With a pang Amu remembers the dreams she once had, the Guardian Characters that have long since disappeared but remain in her heart.
"Dreams don't leave you," she says softly.
"Pardon?"
Amu sighs inwardly, knowing that something would have gone wrong sooner or later. "Sorry, I'm foreign. My English isn't very good."
"No, no, it was fine, I just didn't hear you," he corrects hastily. "Where are you from?"
"Japan. I'm here on business."
The cabbie inhales sharply and Amu leans forward, her curiosity piqued.
"I'm from there as well," he replies, switching to fluent Japanese with just a touch of a British language. "It's been years since I spoke the language, but I hope I still remember."
Hearing his velvety voice speaking her mother tongue, Amu feels almost nostalgic for some reason. She couldn't be homesick; she had barely been away for two days. But then what was it about his voice that struck a chord in her heart?
"I-I see," she stammers, the words flowing from lips now that she's speaking the language she grew up with. "So you left Japan chasing your dreams, but it didn't work out."
"Well, if you put it that way," he chuckles. "There are a lot of opportunities in London. I've been trying to get myself started with what I really want to do with life, but I suppose I've got to wait a bit longer."
"So you just… left and never came back?" Anger is creeping into her voice without her realizing, and she doesn't try to hold it back. Maybe because his story hits too close to home. "What about your family? Your friends?"
"Don't have much of a family," he says. His voice sounds far away as he continues, "My dad died way back, but I didn't find out until a while ago. My sister's too busy to spend much time with me anyway, and my mom's… well… "
He doesn't finish the sentence, and Amu doesn't press it. His knuckles are almost white on the steering wheel and guilt rises up in her chest. Of course as soon as she started talking, she forced some poor cabbie to relive his past.
"There must be someone," she ventures, hoping that this will distract him. "A girlfriend, perhaps?"
"Nah. There was this one girl I liked, but she was in, like, middle school when I left."
"Middle school?" Amu laughs. "That's almost pedophilic."
"I was a little creep," he admits. "It amused me so much to harass her."
"You harassed a middle schooler?!" she gasps between laughs. "I bet she thought the world of you."
"Shut up," he mumbles. "I didn't actually harass her. I really loved her, and I was willing to wait until she got older. But… I guess she didn't. She stopped calling me, and eventually… well, there was this other guy. It's not like I could do anything about it from here."
The atmosphere is suddenly subdued.
"...Oh. I - I know how that feels."
He doesn't say anything, but she can sense that he's listening.
"Well, there was this guy, and I didn't realize I liked him until he was gone. And, you know, our relationship fell apart. I haven't seen him in nearly ten years." She pauses, trying to blink back tears. The wound is still fresh, even after all this time.
"Sometimes I wonder if it's worth waiting. I know he won't come back, but I can't let go."
"I still remember the exact shade of her eyes, how everything would light up when she smiled," he says suddenly. "All I wanted was for her to be happy, and I guess I was willing to put myself aside. And yet I can't let go either."
Amu sighs. "Life's just like that. You've got to forsake some things in life. Like you said, dreams rarely come true."
"Wherever I go, whatever the distance that separates us... I will come back to you. And when you grow up and become an adult, I promise I'll come back and find you. Because I'll always keep liking you like this."
She can hear his voice, echoing in her mind after a decade of silence, speaking lies that she believed, because she was nothing but a innocent child. To her, he had been an enigma, and just when she thought she had him figured out, he disappeared.
She was an adult, had been for years now, but he hadn't come back for her. The chilling loneliness was freezing her heart over slowly, like the winter air that whipped at her face and left her eyes stinging with tears. There was no warmth to thaw it, though, and so she waited slowly, patiently, until the day she was nothing but a block of ice.
"Here we are," the cabbie says dully. "Millenium London Mayfair."
She steps outside and rummages inside her purse, eventually pulling out the money and a generous tip.
"Thank you," she says with a smile she hopes doesn't look too wistful. "Not just for the ride."
"Same to you," he answers, meeting her eyes. For the first time, she gets a good look at his face. He can't be much more than thirty, with deep blue eyes and equally vibrant hair. She notices an object sitting in the passenger seat - a weathered white violin case.
And then the taxi is gone, fading into the night just like he did. Everything clicks, everything he said and the shade of his hair and the violin case that looks almost the same as it did ten years ago.
Amu sprints through the snow, her high heels slipping off and her scarf blowing away in the wind. She screams with all her might the name that's been haunting her for all the time -
"IKUTO!"
The taxi screeches to a halt and he gets out, a decade older but still the same man. She flings herself into his arms, knocking them both to the ground as Amu sobs with joy and clings onto his coat like she'll never, ever, let go.
Ikuto is dumbfounded at first, millions of questions forming at his lips as he glances down at the honey-golden eyes that are spilling over with joyous tears. His breath constricts as he realizes just who is hugging him - the dream he thought was dead has miraculously come back to life.
"Amu…?"
Eventually, he comes to his senses and leans forward, resting his forehead against hers.
Snowflakes and frozen tears frost her eyelashes, but she still meets his lips with a smile.
Ikuto's mind goes blank for a split second, then it all comes rushing at him. The subtle perfume she's wearing, her ice-cold nose pressed against his, the feel of her chapped lips. He doesn't want to move, doesn't want to ruin this, and yet he finds his hands sifting through her hair as he presses closer to her and closes his eyes.
After a long moment, they pull apart. Ikuto stands up slowly, as if the world around him is surreal, and lifts Amu to her feet. He stares at her for a long moment, memorizing the features of her face, ten years older but not one bit less beautiful.
Then they set off into the night with their hands interlocked. And this time, neither one will let go.
Back at long last with some Shugo Chara! I lost interest in the show a while back (before I even finished Nameless, Faceless, which might explain the crappy ending) but this idea's been floating around in my head for a while and who can resist ten-years-later Amuto? I've been to London once with my family, and it was awesome. We never took a taxi, though, the subway was much nearer and more convenient.
You're technically not supposed to shout "TAXI!" at a taxi in London. Good thing Ikuto's a nice guy.