She tossed the vegetables into the air as she ripped her glittering knife from the granite counter-top. The knife sliced through the leafy green matter as if it were air, and the greens began to fall through empty space. Her senses were so attuned that the food seemed to be moving in slow motion. She slammed the knife down on the counter and whisked a plate away from its place in the cabinet. She caught the salad just before it plopped to the ground.
It was a special sort of dance, just for her. It was almost as graceful as her steps in the martial arts. Her movements were fluid and thoughtless. She didn't need to think nor did she want to. The whole place felt empty, and there was too much food on her plate.
She would never admit it, but she longed to hear his voice again. She wouldn't dare speak it, but she had feelings for him. She couldn't name them; they weren't precise. She just knew that she felt better, she felt happier, when he was near.
She didn't need him to feel safe; she was a master of hand to hand combat. She didn't need him to feel loved; her father showed her that often during training.
She felt alone. Despite her numerous friends in school, she felt isolated. She talked with them, smiled with them, and even laughed with them, but it wasn't the same as how he made her feel. She was confused because he was just as unwilling to talk about his feelings as she was. She didn't even know if he felt the same.
She couldn't even tell how she felt. Everything was just so mixed up, and she didn't know whether she wanted to kick him or hug him. She didn't know what she would do if she saw him again.
The forest was silent. The absence of noise felt deafening, and she didn't know if she would be able to hear again. The air held an almost magical quality to it, and it felt as if a blanket of calm had been draped around her as she ran down the trail.
Her hair flipped about, and sweat plastered her bangs to her forehead. It felt refreshing, and almost freeing to run through the black forest again. How long had it been since she had done this by herself? She was so accustomed to having a heavier step beside her.
He hadn't known his name or even where he had come from. He wasn't native to Germany; that much was for sure. He was most likely Japanese, and that was strange. She was used to being one of the only people with Japanese heritage in her school.
He had short golden locks that hung in front of his face, and his eyes were almost the color of the sky. She wasn't poetic, but he could be.
When they were tired, so tired that their limbs felt about to shatter, they would lie on the roof of the training building, breathing. The sound consumed her wholly, and she would close her eyes to lose herself.
She wouldn't admit it, but he was already stronger than her.
He left for the Dead or Alive tournament, and she didn't think anything of it. If he wanted to prove how strong he was, then that was alright with her. She hadn't expected him to leave for good.
She was standing on the rooftop, allowing the wind to run its hands through her hair. She stared at the sunset over the horizon, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of stillness settle over her. A fluttering noise alerted her, and she looked up to see a small scrap of folded paper twisting in the wind.
She lay out her hand to catch it, and was satisfied when it softly landed in her palm.
She unfolded the paper to read the words scrawled there:
Dear Hitomi:
I thank your family for the time I was allowed to spend in your home. I felt most welcome, and the training I received was invaluable. However, I had a life and loved ones beforehand. I have remembered much since my time in your company, and I regret to say that circumstances forbid me from living there any longer. I hope that our paths can cross again, if only for a brief moment.
Sincerely, Ein.
She didn't know why, but her cheeks suddenly felt warm despite the chilly evening air. Drops of moisture reared their heads on the scrap of paper, and Hitomi let the note ride on the wind away. She had lost the ability to grip it.
Angry. Angry at him for leaving.
Irritated. Irritated at him for his stupid note.
Joyful. Joyful that he had regained his memory.
Lonely. Lonely now that she knew he wouldn't return.
Emotions warred with each other inside of her chest, and she was on the brink of tearing herself apart.
When she saw him, she wouldn't know whether to hit him or hug him, but she knew that she should decide quick. She would become a combatant in the next tournament, and she would see Ein again.
If only for a moment.