Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Author's Note: I recently watched Kenichi, the Mightiest Disciple. It is such an awesome show! I love it and it's partially responsible for the idea for this. It's also partially my own philosophy.
Summer is here and I'm sick. Of course. Can't wait for all the movies this summer. Green Lantern, Captain America, and, of course, the last Harry Potter movie. Makes me sad to think that I've been alive since the very first one and now I'm going to see the last one. Kind of like the end of an era.
-/-/-
"If there isn't an end, there wasn't anything to begin with. And the beginning of every ending is really just the beginning of a whole new story. The end? Never. It's a world full of beginnings."
-Anonymous
-/-/-/-
"Do you know how to use that thing or is it just for show?"
Zelos glanced up. It was the girl everyone was talking about, Sheena Fujibayashi, the ambassador from Mizuho. She was leaning against a column, looking less than comfortable in the formal evening gown, a dark plum dress that reached her knees with thin straps. Sheena had black hair that had been left loose so that it fell in messy waves around her face.
A thin eyebrow arched above hazel eyes. "Well?"
"What are you talking about?"
"That sword, of course!" She nodded down at the weapon on his right hip. To be honest, he'd forgotten he was wearing it.
"Yeah, I've learned how to use it. Why?"
A corner of Sheena's lips tilted into a smile. "Wanna spar with me sometime?"
"What?" Whatever Zelos might have been expecting, it certainly wasn't that.
"I've asked around the Research Academy, but none of them are real fighters and I don't have the money—or the recklessness—to join in the Coliseum. Would you want to spar with me?"
His mouth worked before his brain fully processed the answer. "Sure, why not?" If, for nothing else, than to learn more about Sheena, who was already proving more interesting than the other girls.
"Does dawn work for you?"
"Dawn? Jeez, hunny, don't you sleep?
"I'm an early riser. And don't call me hunny." She snapped.
"Snarly, aren't you? How does tomorrow at eight AM sound, out in the fields just outside of Meltokio? I'll even treat you to breakfast afterwards."
"You don't have to bribe me to spar with you. I was the one who asked you, remember?" Sheena said, her smile widening. "Or do you suck that badly?"
"You don't pull any punches, do you? And it's because it's polite."
"Would you look at that? You do have manners. But sure. Tomorrow it is." She pushed herself off the column. Words floated back over her shoulder, hardly audible over the orchestra. "And no, I don't pull punches."
-/-/-/-
When Zelos arrived—on time, mind you—Sheena was already out there. He'd never seen her outside of a formal function. She looked much more comfortable—both in her skin and in general—in the sweatpants and gray tank top. Her feet were bare, he noted, though he saw a pair of sandals lying in the grass nearby.
"Good morning." He greeted.
"Morning." She said, tying up her dark hair in a messy ponytail.
He looked around for some sign of a sword or perhaps even a knife, but there was none. "No weapons?"
She looked surprised at the question. "I'm more of a free-hand fighter. Technically."
"Technically? You're either free hand or you're not."
"Well, the techniques I usually use could kill you pretty easily, so as far as sparring goes, yeah, I'm a free-hander."
"Against my sword?"
She shot him a confused look. "Of course."
"Seems a little unfair, is all."
That made her laugh. "Not all fights are fair, you realize that, don't you?"
Oh, she was an interesting one all right. "If you're sure."
They each settled into their stances and Zelos had to duck almost immediately because she was too damned fast. And unpredictable. She'd be beside you one instant, her elbow in your kidney, and the next, her foot would be coming down on the opposite shoulder. Even so, it didn't take long for Zelos to find a way to more or less match her rhythm.
Sheena was suddenly in front of him, looking like she was ready to bolt, balanced the way she was on the balls of her feet. "You're holding back." She accused.
He stared at her. How had she been able to tell? "I won't go all out on a girl. It's not right."
She fell flat-footed, her hands propping themselves on her hips. "Excuse me?"
"What? Haven't you ever heard of that? Technically, I'm not supposed to be hitting girls at all." What kind of place was Mizuho that Sheena was insulted because he was doing her a favor?
"That's just stupid." In Mizuho, the women weren't treated any differently. At least, not where fighting skills were concerned. She'd been told, constantly, as a child that if she wanted to take lessons with the boys than she had to keep up. It got to the point where they were struggling to keep up with her.
"Some would call it noble or gentlemanly."
"Or naïve." Sheena shot back. "What makes you think that you need to go easy on us?"
"Girls, well…girls are more fragile and not as strong as boys." Zelos said it like it was obvious. "Overall, they're weaker."
"You're an insulting, chauvinistic, male pig."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. You're insulting us by trying to protect us like that. You think we can't take it?"
"You shouldn't have to." Zelos said tightly, thinking of Seles.
"That's our decision."
"Protecting you is ours."
"There's a difference between protection and being sexist. Holding back during sparring doesn't do anyone any good. The world won't be so kind to us. You're not helping any woman you spar with by holding back. You're crippling them. You're crippling them for life."
Zelos stared at her, really taking Sheena in. Not as a woman or just another person this time, but as a fighter. A loose stance, but her arms stayed tight to her body for fast reactions. She was muscular in a lean way. Her legs looked especially powerful. They had to be, he mused, to have her jumping like that. He swore he'd seen her fly at one point.
"And yet, women complain when they can't find a respectful guy."
"I'm not going against being respectful and maybe for some of the more fragile or less experienced girls, you could go easier, but don't make it easy for them otherwise they'll never improve."
"You are stubborn."
Sheena flashed a grin. "I'm told it's one of my better qualities." She shifted into a ready stance. "Wanna try this again?"
"You're on."
-/-/-/-
They were both breathing hard by the end of it. Sheena refused to sit though and walked around a bit before standing in front of Zelos, who was comfortably sprawled on the grass. It was a strange sight to her, because Zelos the Chosen never sprawled. He lounged, he posed, but he didn't sprawl. The difference seemed important somehow.
"Who taught you to fight like that?" Zelos asked.
"My village."
"All women can fight like you there?"
Sheena shook her head, pulling out her hair tie to redo her ponytail. "I'm the strongest female fighter in our village. The others…it's not that they don't know how to fight, but I think they like being housewives, for whatever reason."
"You don't want to be a housewife?" Zelos leaned back on his hands. It would be a strange picture, this powerful, lightning-and-spitfire woman being something so tame.
Sheena gave a very unladylike snort as she took a seat. "No way."
"How come?" Zelos smiled mischievously. "Is it because you can't cook?"
"Yes, you cheeky bastard, I can cook. But it's all too…boring-mundane, that's the word I'm looking for—for me. I like travelling."
"And fighting?"
Sheena rested her arm on an upraised knee. "Yeah. Not because I like to hurt people, but…I like the adrenaline. The pace of it. It's kinda like a dance for me."
"You could just take up actual dancing, you know."
Sheena chuckled. "No, I'm a terror on the dance floor. Two left feet."
"I can't imagine that." And he really couldn't. Sheena was grace and power with iron control.
"You don't have a very good imagination then." Her hazel eyes fixed on him. "So what about you?"
"What about me what?"
"Why do you fight?"
Zelos shrugged. "One day, a swordmaster was introduced to me and I was told to learn."
"So you don't really like it?"
"I do now. But I can't say that I would've chosen it." The words flow from his mouth, not giving his brain time to filter them. It's a strange feeling, made stranger by the fact that Sheena didn't seem to find them odd at all. "And then there's the lack of a good sparring partner."
She smiled and there was a thin, white scar just above her lip that went up her cheek and it looked imperfect and absolutely real. "Well, I'd say that that problem's solved."
"Yeah, I suppose it is. We haven't introduced ourselves properly, have we?"
"No, I suppose not." Sheena stuck out a hand. Small scars littered the back of it, nicks and cuts from practicing, Zelos would guess. There was dirt under her fingernails and her pinky is a little crooked, probably from a break not healed completely right. "Sheena Fujibayashi."
He shook her hand, pleasantly surprised to feel the calluses. "Zelos Wilder."
He's recently sixteen and she's soon-to-be fifteen.
-/-/-/-
He never got to buy her breakfast that day. Rather, by the time they got back to Meltokio, it was nearly time for lunch and she suggested a small sandwich place down near the Academy since he was still buying.
The sandwich place was small. There was a counter and four tables, with lamps hanging down. The windows were wide and let in a great deal of light, making the counter shine.
Sheena took a seat at the counter like she'd been there a lot of times. "Hey, Charles."
The man behind the counter turned. His skin was very dark, his eyes a light, clear brown. He was skinny and he smiled wide when he saw her. "Sheena. Didn't think you were gonna show up today, girl. You're usually much earlier."
"Had some previous engagements today."
"You and that fancy talk. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were leaving us common folk behind." Charles' voice had a slight accent, but if Zelos were pressed to answer where it was from, he couldn't tell you.
"You keep making those infamous sandwiches of yours and I'll stay a common girl for eternity. Oh, this is—"
"Zelos Wilder." Charles said, holding out a hand. "Even us down here know him."
"Your reputation precedes you." Sheena said, resting her chin in her palm.
He smiled charmingly. "I can't help it."
Charles shook his head. "The usual, Sheena?"
"Yes, please."
Charles looked at Zelos. "She usually gets roast beef, cheese and pickles on rye with some coffee. If you want something different, speak now."
"Ham, turkey and cheese with lemonade, please."
Charles nodded and went to make the sandwiches without writing any of it down.
Zelos turned to Sheena. "You drink coffee in this heat? You're insane!"
"Don't be such a sissy. It's not so bad."
Zelos narrowed his eyes at her. Her skin was a little browner than a city girl's. "Exactly where is Mizuho?"
He didn't expect an answer. Mizuho was a secret village, everyone knew that. So when she did answer, he stared at her. "South. We have really humid summers. And no coffee.
"None?"
She shook her head. "I know. It's an utter sin."
Zelos found himself laughing, really laughing, for the first time in what felt like years. "Clearly. But luckily, you've been cleansed of your heathen ways."
Sheena smiled as her sandwich and cup were placed in front of her. "Cheers to that."
Zelos returned the smile, unable to help himself. Her personality, bright and tart-sweet, was contagious. He lifted his glass of lemonade. "Cheers."
-/-/-/-
It turned out that Sheena's personality was addictive as well as contagious. Zelos found himself gravitating towards her at the numbingly dull dinner parties. He found that she was intelligent as well as lovely and an excellent fighter. A triple threat if he ever saw one.
Zelos whistled lowly as a beautiful woman walked by, her dress, while formal and meeting the black-tie requirements, was…low-cut…to put it lightly. "If she bends over, she'll flash everyone in the room."
"You don't need to sound so hopeful about it, Wilder." When she's annoyed or mildly angry with him, it's always Wilder. But Zelos didn't mind that. She was the only one who never called him by his title and sometimes he thought he could kiss her for that.
"That isn't hope. It's the mournful crying of a man wondering what society has come to." Sheena arched an eyebrow at him. "I'm being serious."
"Uh-huh. And how much wine have you had tonight?"
Zelos held up his wineglass. "This is still my first one."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I can't stand the taste of alcohol." Sheena hummed in interest and she reached across to steal some cheese from his plate. "Hey!"
She grinned at him. "You don't like this kind of cheese either."
He blinked at her, surprised that she'd noticed. "Touché."
-/-/-/-
She came back from her trip home for Celsius week looking tired and dim. At first, he almost didn't recognize her because her hair was loose, her feet were bare, sandals tucked neatly beneath the bench she was sitting on and there was a book in her lap. Her back was against the arm rest and she would have looked comfortable if it weren't for the single-minded focus with which she was staring at her book.
Zelos sat on the other side of the bench, her toes just brushing his thigh. Really, didn't she know it was still cold here? The snow hadn't really covered Meltokio like it usually did, but windows still frosted over and the streets had been icy. "So…how'd it go?"
"How'd what go?"
"Your visit back home. Must've been nice to see your family again."
Sheena's hands tightened on her book. "It was fine."
"Just fine?"
Sheena's eyes finally looked at him over the top of her book. "Is there an issue with it being fine?"
"No, of course not. It's just that 'fine' is what you say when someone on the elevator asks how you are. It's also what you say to someone when you want to lie to them on how you're feeling."
"You're a psychologist now?"
"No. I just pay attention." He fixed his eyes on her. "So. Tell me."
Sheena sighed and shut the book. "I love my village, I do."
"But…"
"There's some things I don't think neither me nor them is ever gonna be able to get past."
"What'd they do?"
Sheena chuckled, a bitter, broken-glass sound. "Nothing. They…they're great people. The problems between us, they're my fault."
"What, did you run away with the wrong boy or something?"
"No." She looked down, suddenly finding her hands fascinating. "I…I couldn't control it."
"What?"
"I'm a summoner. It's why I'm living at the Academy. They're trying to create an artificial Summon Spirit."
"Uh-huh, right, but…I don't understand what that has to do with your village."
"About…six years back, they took me to Volt's Temple, said that it was time to make a pact with him. But Volt…I couldn't control him and he went berserk. He-he killed so many people that day…"
Zelos saw her shaking. It was hardly noticeable and, had he not been sitting right beside her, he might not have noticed it. As it was, he put a hand on her thigh, shaking it a little to try and break her out of whatever memory had her eyes looking so blank.
"Hey," Zelos began, unsure of what to say. He'd never had to do the comforting thing and he's sure he wouldn't be very good at it. So he said the first thing that came to mind. "Let's get outta here."
She blinked up at him, looking more like a kid then he'd ever seen. "Where're we going?"
Zelos shrugged, standing up and tugging at her hand. "We'll know when we get there."
He's seventeen and three quarters. She's sixteen and a half.
-/-/-/-
There was a fire at the Academy that had her staying in his house. At first, he found it strange to have someone else to be awake with in the wee hours of the morning, but he grew comfortable with it. They play chess, snack on strange too-early-for-this foods and watch old black-and-white films.
She never pressed, never went where she wasn't wanted. She was intuitive like that. But she was also curious and he shouldn't have been surprised when she found it.
"Who's this?" Sheena asked, taking a close look at the photograph.
He didn't have to do more than glance to know who she was talking about. He knew the picture, had it memorized. It's the only photo of the two of them. He was maybe seven years old, missing a tooth and grinning widely and proudly anyway, with his arm around her small shoulders. His hair had been shorter than and it looked so much darker than hers. She was still wearing that hat, too big for her and she was grinning too, all dimples and bright eyes.
"My sister, Seles." He never called her his half-sister because he never thought of her like that. She was his sister. Period.
Zelos waited for the inevitable recognition of the name, of the story; waited for the exclamation of "Oh that girl."
It never came.
Sheena just tilted her head curiously before saying, "I can see the resemblance."
It's the first time anyone had ever said anything like that to Zelos. People have said for years that he wasn't anything like his mother, poised and a proper member of society, or like his father, who commanded respect simply by walking in a room.
"Yeah?"
"Mm. You smile the same."
It was the first time he ever hugged her. She'd stiffened for a moment as his arms wrapped around her waist and his face buried in her shoulder, before she'd relaxed back into him.
He hugged her a lot more often after that.
-/-/-/-
They're talking over midnight coffee again—it had long become a habit and somewhere along the way, she forgot to move back into the Academy—when she first told him. "I got asked out today."
He nearly spat out his coffee. "What?"
She gives him an annoyed look. "You don't have to act like it's so unbelievable that someone might see me that way."
"No, it's not that." Zelos said hurriedly because he could most definitely see her like that. "I just wasn't prepared. You gotta prepare a guy before you spring news like that on him."
"Somehow, I think you'll survive." Sheena said dryly.
"So, who's the guy?" Zelos asked, hoping that he sounded casual, hoping that he sounded indifferently curious.
"Marcus, from the Academy. You've met him before." And because Sheena knew that he wasn't good with names, but with faces, she continued, "Little taller than you, blonde hair, brown eyes, wears glasses."
"I remember him. Delivery boy."
Sheena chuckled. "More or less with how the Director treats him."
"So when's this date of yours?"
"Tomorrow night."
Zelos frowned at the clock on the wall. "You mean tonight?"
Sheena followed his eyes. "I guess so."
The silence between them felt awkward and stretched for the first time since they met. Zelos shifts a little, feeling the counter dig into his back a little where he was leaning on it. "I guess that means that you should, ah, be getting some rest. Beauty sleep and all."
Sheena set her mug in the sink. "Yeah…g'night."
"Night, darling."
It slipped from his mouth—he doesn't even know where it comes from because he's never heard anyone call someone else darling—and he knew how much Sheena hated nicknames, so he braced for the incoming snap of temper.
But it didn't come. Sheena just looked back, studied him for a minute, before walking away. There were worse things to be called and besides, he never called anyone else that.
-/-/-/-
"You want what?" Zelos was standing outside her room that night, staring at her face, which was all he could see of her since she was peering around the door.
"Some…some advice."
"With…?"
"I-I've never done this before, okay?" She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, a nervous gesture he knew well. "I don't know what to wear or what to say and dammit when did I become such a girl?"
Zelos chuckled and said, "Let me in."
She was wrapped in a towel, her hair damp on her shoulders. "Thanks for this."
"You don't have to thank me. You know that."
He went to her closet, eyeing her clothes critically. She'd lost most of her clothes in the fire—not that she'd ever had a whole lot to begin with—and he can tell they're divided immediately. Formal clothes, the kind for the dinner parties and state affairs that she can't breathe in, and her street clothes, which are all worn shirts and fading pants. There's a sort of in between point between the two, but he's sure that they were gifts because none of them seem quite her taste.
He found a shirt that he knew she was fond of—faded to almost lavender with use, particularly on rainy days, where once it had been dark purple—that gave the illusion at the neckline that it wrapped around her like a robe. There had been designs on the hem, but now they were nearly gone.
He tossed her the shirt and managed to find a pair of pants that weren't stained with paint from helping put the Academy back together.
"There."
She looked at the clothes in her arms and then back up at him. "How do you do that?"
He grinned at her. "Just one of my many talents, darling. Get dressed, elsewise you'll be late. Can't keep Marcus waiting."
-/-/-/-
The date didn't go well. Zelos never learned the details, but she'd told him that much. They'd ended up on the couch beneath some blankets—not because they were cold, but because they just liked the feeling of being beneath a blanket—and just talking.
They sparred together at least once a week, though they tried to make it more often, and it was one Thursday morning that they were sparring when Zelos could feel the residual anger and frustration from that night that she hadn't told him about.
Zelos thought it better not to say anything and met her hit for hit.
-/-/-/-
Meltokio was already frosting over and it was only the beginning of November. It was a sign of a cold, snowy winter and it made Zelos a little irritable to remember the .
Zelos had never told Sheena what happened that snowy morning and she never asked. Perhaps because she knew, like so few people did, that there were some places, some things, not meant to be asked about. (He never asked for any more details on the Volt incident and she never asked more about Seles. It's an unspoken agreement of theirs)
Perhaps someone else told her—the rumor mill among the nobles in Meltokio was rather impressive—but if they did, she didn't mention it. But when he snapped at her one morning when frost had crept up their windows, she simply leaned back against the counter and said, "Come to Mizuho with me."
He'd stared, naturally. No one went to Mizuho. The villagers were very protective of the location and even the King didn't know where it was.
"You're joking, right?"
"No. I'm serious. I'm going down for Celsius week. Come with me."
"Won't you get in trouble?"
Sheena chuckled. "It won't be anything I can't handle."
"I don't think the villagers will want the Chosen in their village. As far as I know, Mizuho and the Church of Martel have never seen eye to eye."
"No, they haven't. Just don't come as the Chosen."
"Darling," Zelos began patiently. "I am the Chosen."
"You're Zelos. That should be good enough."
Sheena was strange in the fact that she made distinctions like that. Zelos never quite understood it, but he was grateful for it. "And you're sure about this?"
"Yeah, of course. It doesn't snow very much in Mizuho. This," Sheena nodded outside to where the ground was frosty and the windows were glazed with ice. "Is about as bad as it gets most years. Sometimes, we'll get some snow, but it's usually mush in about half an hour."
"Alright. I'll go."
-/-/-/-
Mizuho was rural in an exotic way. The trees here were strong, untrimmed and tall, dappling the ground in shadows. The buildings were sturdy and never extended beyond one story. A small river ran through the village, forming a small boundary between the Chief's house and the rest of the village, or so Sheena explained. There were people working in the fields and there were a few stray sheep, a goat, two cows and three horses grazing lazily around the village.
A man dressed in several layers of blue, his face covered with a black scarf from the nose down, came up to them, staring suspiciously at Zelos even though his words were directed at Sheena. "What were you thinking, bringing an outsider here?"
"He's also my guest and best friend, Orochi." Sheena said, but the words that would usually have been said with hot temper were instead said with cool reserve.
"I don't think the Vice-Chief is going to like this." Orochi warned.
"I'll deal with the Vice-Chief, alright? Is he in?" It was an unnecessary question. Tiga was ferociously loyal to the Chief and the village. He hadn't left the village since the incident, hence the need for an ambassador.
As they walked to the Chief's hut, Zelos bent down a little so he could whisper in her ear. "Hey, are you sure this is going to be okay?"
"It's fine."
"They're giving us both the evil eye. I can understand me, but…" The pieces clicked together in his mind. Despite Sheena having been raised in this village, she was still an outsider. She probably would always be one.
"It's because they don't know you, but they know your reputation. It'll get better."
"If you say so."
-/-/-/-
They shared a hut set aside for visitors—Zelos tried not to think about what that meant for Sheena that he could see some of her clothes and photos here in the drawers and coffee beans in the kitchen, things that are distinctly hers—and Zelos found it difficult to sleep out here in the quiet. The quiet of Mizuho is different from Meltokio's and it bothered him.
Perhaps Sheena knew that because she stood outside his room at three in the morning, dressed for sparring, and said, "Let's get outta here."
Sometime during their spar, an audience had appeared. It was only a few people. Orochi, a man in layers of red, a few children looking curiously on and a few farmers, already on their way to the fields glancing over.
"You fight differently now, Sheena." The man in red said.
Sheena paused, balancing on the balls of her feet for an instant before going flat-footed. "You say that like it's a bad thing, Kuchinawa."
"Can you still keep up with us?"
Sheena grinned and it's confident and challenging. "Let's find out."
Their spar was a brilliantly violent choreographed dance. They don't hold back with each other—briefly, Zelos wondered if Sheena had had to get snarly with this Kuchinawa, but he didn't think so.
They're very close to evenly matched and they end up breathing hard and having to lean on someone to stand.
"He's good." Zelos murmured, a hand around Sheena's waist to keep her upright. Orochi was doing the same to Kuchinawa.
"Yeah, he is."
"Who is he?"
"We grew up together. Him, me and Orochi. They're brothers."
"Can't see the resemblance."
Sheena snorted in laughter. "That might be because you've never seen them standing beside each other in street clothes. They're only three years apart."
It's only that afternoon, when he's helping some villagers set up for their festival—they call it Celsius Day, but they don't celebrate it the way the rest of Tethe'alla does—that he noticed that Sheena hadn't called them friends.
-/-/-/-
They ate outside on Celsius Day. Baskets and bowls of food were passed around from small group to small group. The food here was different. Most of the foods had rice and vegetables, though not much meat other than some fish and a few cuts of boar meat that they must have caught in Gaoracchia Forest.
Sheena was dressed traditionally in a kimono, as she said it was called. Hers was black trimmed in purple and blue with a collection of silver-gray fish speckled with orange—koi fish, she said. A symbol of friendship and love—and the Igaguri crest was stitched on the back, just beneath the collar.
She was different here. It wasn't entirely noticeable, but here movements were stiffer, as were her words. Except around Kuchinawa and Orochi. There, she was closer to the woman Zelos knew.
"This is what you all do every year?" Zelos asked, buttering a roll.
"Yeah, more or less." Sheena poked some asparagus on her plate away from the vegetables she actually liked. "Different from Meltokio, isn't it?"
Zelos nodded as he swallowed a bite of the bread. "I prefer this though."
Sheena looked over at him. "Yeah? How come?"
"It just seems a lot more like the way Celsius Day was intended to be." There were offerings on a small altar beneath a tree with characters carved into it. When Zelos had asked what the characters said, Sheena had answered that it was Celsius. Each Summon Spirit had their own tree here and she'd pointed them out.
"Mizuho's always been more for tradition." She tilted her head, as though she could hear something he couldn't. "The fireworks are going to start soon."
Zelos followed her gaze, which wasn't focused on the sky, but rather across the field nearly to the gates where people were indeed preparing several tubes of fireworks.
"Why near the gates?"
"The sparks hitting the ground and the gate are good luck," Sheena explained. "Or so the elders say. I'm not totally sure why."
There was a sharp whistle and the fireworks exploded across the sky. The children were laughing and cheering.
Sheena smiled at him. "Happy Celsius Day, Zelos."
She had turned eighteen three months ago. Zelos was two weeks away from turning twenty.
-/-/-/-
The creature was tiny and furry with large eyes and bright tails.
Zelos looked from the creature to Sheena, who was beaming proudly. "This is a Summon Spirit?" From the images he'd seen in books, he'd expected them to be much more impressive.
"A little one, yeah. The Academy said they were lucky to be able to make one at all."
"I'm sure. Does it have a name?"
"His name's Corrine."
"Corrine?" Zelos wondered where she got that name, but didn't ask. It could've come from any one of countless books that they'd read or it might have come from her own mind.
"Yup."
"Doesn't really sound very Summon Spirit-y."
Sheena shrugged. "I didn't choose it. He said that's what his name is."
"He talks?" There were rumors, of course. Legends, children's stories, but Zelos had never entirely believed that Summon Spirits could speak.
Sheena gave him an odd look. "Of course he does."
And to her, it would never have occurred that Summon Spirits were separate beings, were something so very different from mortals, because to her, they were just the same. To her, with her gift of summoning, the Spirits were people, the same as everyone else. It's astounding and a little frightening because it was the first time Zelos found that he couldn't relate to that.
-/-/-/-
Sheena liked high places, liked to balance on roof beams and the tops of the church towers, liked to look down and imagine that, if she fell, she could grow wings and fly.
It was on a rooftop that Zelos first heard of the other world. Of Sylvarant.
The more that he listened to Sheena explain, the more he found it unbelievable. "It sounds like something out of those science fiction novels."
Sheena tried for a smile, but it didn't entirely make it to her lips. It was that that first warned Zelos that something was wrong.
"What? What else is there?"
"I'm supposed to go there."
"To Sylvarant?" She nodded. "Why?"
"The Renegades have been saying that, if the Chosen of their world goes through the regeneration ritual, that our world will suffer." She swallowed hard. "I-I'm supposed to assassinate their Chosen."
The anger burst out of him and he's on his feet, pacing around the rooftop. "That's insane! You can't kill anyone!"
They both knew that it wasn't a lack of ability that would hold Sheena back, but rather a lack of cold-bloodedness.
"You don't think I know that?" She sounded old and life-tired. "I have to. Mizuho needs the money and the security. I think the Renegades know where the village is somehow. They're not safe. Besides, Tethe'alla needs this to happen."
"Why you? There are a dozen people in Mizuho that could do this."
"Think about it. It's a high risk mission, one that I don't think even Mizuho believes is possible. Who else would they send?" She's the outsider. She's always known this. And while she doesn't like it, she had long ago resigned herself to that fact.
Zelos didn't say anything for a long while. He sat back down beside her, legs dangling over the edge of the roof. When he finally did say something, it was all he could think of to say.
"Promise me you'll come back."
Sheena pressed her cheek upon her raised knees, looking at him slanted. "Of course I'll come back."
"Promise me." Because Sheena had never broken a promise before.
"…Yeah. I promise."
It made him relax, if only marginally. "When do you leave?"
"Tomorrow."
Zelos didn't dare try and look for a clock or up at the moon making its rounds in the sky. He knew what they would say. That it was already tomorrow and their hourglass was rapidly emptying of sand.
She's all of nineteen, brave (Not fearless because they were two very different things), kind, intelligent and lovely; he's two days twenty-one and it felt like this was the end of an era.