"Moonshine. Stuff of life, they say. Strong stuff…illegal stuff," the man took a long draw on his cigarette, a grey cloud of smoke rushing out to engulf his face. Kagamine Len choked.
He wasn't a smoker, never was and never would be. His grandfather had been, and now his grandfather was dead. He hadn't even been that old when he passed on. Len refused to take the same route. To work with moonshine...the very word itself was intriguing, though he knew it was just a metaphor for illegally produced alcohol, or at least that was what the elders told him. Still. Moonshine…there was an air of mystery, of glamour, about it.
"You really want to work here, kid?" the man set down his cigarette, crushing it in an ash tray. The orange embers glowed on the other end of the crushed stick, still wafting smoke. "I can tell you that you won't got no future, coming here. Ain't nobody ever lasts long around here," he leant forward, looking closely at Len. Len swallowed. His throat was dry, and it hurt. He nodded, pushing aside the discomfort, the nerves and the fear – they had nothing to lose.
He needed it, the alcohol that he hoped he could obtain from this job. He needed its intoxicating properties, though he knew not how strong the liquid was. If they didn't have this, then not just his family would be doomed. His entire community would burn. He was the only one she would listen to – the only one who could placate her. He wanted to be miserable, thinking of her, because she caused his suffering but he knew he couldn't.
The man still looked faintly suspicious, but Len wouldn't budge, refusing to stand down. He would not leave this shack without getting the job. Finally, the man sat back in his chair and nodded. "I see the fire in your eyes, boy," he croaked, the smoke and whiskey making his voice low and growly. "I know you ain't leaving till you get what you want, whatever that may be. The drink? The money?" he laughed. "You get both here, boy, but at what expense? But it's not my business to care, eh? You start work tomorrow," the man closed his eyes, leaning his head back. "Now get out of my house," he barked, and Len did as he said, scampering out of the room as quickly as he could.
He could feel the relief flooding through his body, a feeling that was so strong that it was physical – a force that coursed through his veins. He just had to make it out of this forest now, the forest that this old, rundown shack was hidden in, and make it back to his village and let them know he got the job. They would be ever so grateful, and now that they had this resource, perhaps they would no longer clamour for her destruction. He couldn't imagine what he would do if they insisted, and his happy thoughts stopped in fear – what if the elders still insisted on getting rid of her?
She was dangerous, be she at war or at peace. She had power that none of them could ever possibly dream of, and the elders, strict and unmovable as they were, had never been fond of uncertainty. He couldn't bear the thought of her…destroyed, or whatever the elders might have in store for her. He could feel the chill of fear run down his back at the very thought, and he made himself travel faster, cutting through the long grass to get back to his village. His heart raced with fear and adrenaline.
He knew she was perfectly safe, at least around him, for that was why he was the one tasked with watching her. Everyone knew that she would never hurt him, not for anything, but that had also led to some…unpleasantness for him. Many a time the elders had used him as a bargaining chip with her, so many times that he was getting tired of the whole thing – the theatrics, the screaming and the sobbing, the feeling of a metal blade cold against his throat. He knew the elders would not really kill him, and he was under strict instructions to seem as terrified as possible and beg for her mercy, but she was starting to grow aware of the ruse and that was why the elders had sent him all the way here, to obtain moonshine. They vaguely said it would help to control her, but left it at that.
Whatever it was, he hoped that it would not hurt her. He knew the gentle soul she was underneath all the manic depression and the awesome power, and he couldn't bear to see her in pain. She suffered enough, trying to get used to the memories of the previous Guardians – and from what she told him, not all of them were pretty. She didn't feel like she was suited for this role, as she often despaired to him. She didn't want to go on rampages throughout the village, hurting people and setting fire to property, but sometimes the memories were too overwhelming and she lost control.
The village was within sight now, and suddenly he slowed, feet dragging against the long, winding dirt path that led to his home. From this distance, the place looked peaceful and undisturbed, even a haven perhaps. Smoke curled picturesquely from straw, thatched roofs and the community was surrounded by a whole grove of holy trees, which the Guardian tended. They were a blessed people, chosen by the gods to live a sheltered life away from other humans. Len's venture out into this human world, under the orders of his elders, had been the first time anyone had left the village in a long, long time. They were self-sufficient. They even knew of the inventions of the modern man, as the gods communicated to them – the telephones and lightbulbs and cigarettes. Some of the villagers even had their own tobacco plants. But they chose to live an idyllic life away from plague and war.
He, Kagamine Len, was the first person out of their holy village in years, and he thought that the world outside was hardly any different from his home. He didn't see the wreckage and ruin of war, which the elders warned him about. All he saw was idyllic countryside and dark, sheltered forests. He wandered for days and days, looking for places hidden in the forest – for the elders said that the people he sought might be there – and it had taken a week before he got caught by a group of bandits and they brought him to the man he just spoke to. Len was lucky he was somewhat familiar with the area, for he had spent a few days wandering through that same forest and never saw the shack at all.
He took shaky steps towards his village, knowing he could not dally out here any longer. The people in the village could see long and far, and they definitely would have seen his return, and would be ready to welcome him back. He drew in a deep breath and focused on the idea of reuniting with her, and his spirits lifted somewhat. After his meeting with the elders and after he told them what he knew, he would be free to find her, and then perhaps for a while, he could just be himself.
"He has agreed to hire you, this man?" one elder rumbled in front of him, and he nodded quickly, fingers laced together and placed out before him. The three elders looked at each other, frowning, and he wasn't sure if they were pleased or not – did he not fulfil exactly everything they said to him?
"He asked me to return tomorrow. It is not too far from the village. Then I can learn the art of brewing beer, and I can teach the village so we no longer have to fear the rampage," Len offered, breaking the silence. His village had no alcohol. It was strange to him that they had tobacco but not alcohol – but the gods had taught them about the tobacco plant and said nothing about liquor. One thing he could say about their village was that they were not a very innovative people. It was only after repeated praying that the gods finally divulged the Guardian's secret – moonshine, they whispered – and the elders sent him off to learn how to make this secret, strange drink.
"See and observe, watch and learn from him," another elder said, quieter and less aggressive than the first one. "It is best if you could take some and let us see if it affects the Guardian in any way. We do not know for sure why this alcohol is the Guardian's weakness, but the gods have spoken and they never lie," the third elder nodded wisely at this. Len just bowed in acknowledgement, waiting for their dismissal, and the first elder waved his hand, letting him leave. His meeting was concluded.
He left the House of the Elders with a sigh of relief, stepping out of the dim, musky building into the fresh sunshine outside. His parents were waiting there for him, both looking concerned, and he went forward to embrace them, glad to see their faces once more. His younger sister, Rin, was also there, though she seemed more curious than relieved to see him. "Brother, where did you go for so long?" she asked in her high-pitched voice. "Miku missed you. I saw her when I went to play in the forest."
His mother immediately shushed her. "Do not speak her name!" she hissed, looking up at the sky as though worried the gods might descend upon them in fury at their lack of respect. "She is the Guardian now. She is the conduit of the gods and no longer mortal like us. Don't be disrespectful, if you want to say her name you must say it in full, and show the utmost deference when you do so. Understand?" her mother asked Rin. The little girl nodded, evidently not understanding everything, but his mother's demeanour was so frantic that even Len felt a little affected. He knew that the Guardian was not frightening in the slightest, but…the actions of the past told a different story.
"I need to see her," he told his parents, his mother looking up from Rin in surprise. "I need to tell her that the elders found a way to help her stop her fury. She would be glad. I'll see you later, Mother, Father," he turned to leave, heading out of the village towards the forest, but before he could go, his father caught his elbow. He looked back in surprise – his father, usually jovial and carefree, now looked uncharacteristically stern. Ever since Miku had become the Guardian, his father stopped smiling as much. There were lines around his eyes and mouth that came from frowning too often.
"Len," he started in his low, deep slow voice, "I know you two are good friends, but don't forget her status now, and don't forget the danger she poses. She could destroy the village on a bad day, and there's nothing to protect you from her wrath. I'm not saying she's a danger to just you. She's a danger to all of us, and your mother and I would…prefer it," he glanced at his wife here, who nodded her head ever so slightly, "if you didn't visit her so much. She's not the same as us anymore, Len. She's the Guardian, the High Priestess of the gods, and she is no longer any ordinary mortal girl."
Len's chest felt tight. "I can't just abandon her," he argued. "I'm all she has left. Her whole life changed overnight, and she was forcibly removed from her home and dumped out in the grove! I can't just leave her alone like that, she's only been the Guardian for two months and she can't cope with the responsibility – for the sake of the gods, she's only eighteen! I'm eighteen! Could you imagine if I became the Guardian? Would you abandon me the same way?" his parents remained silent at that, and he sighed. "I'm going to visit her now," he said determinedly, "because she has no friends left other than me and I won't do the same thing as the rest of you. I won't leave her."
He turned away again, and this time he was not called back. He followed the path out of the village, all the way to the holy forests that surrounded the village on either side, a protective barrier of natural greenery. Instead of taking the same path out into the countryside, he turned into the forest, and it felt like he was stepping into an entirely different world – the sunlight filtered through the canopy, dappling the forest floor. Birds chirped merrily, and the sounds of humanity faded away despite the forest being right next to the village. It felt as though he stepped past an invisible border into the realm of magic and nature – and, he knew, the truth was that he did. He was in the Forest of the Gods now, the realm of the Guardian, the land where her word, and only hers, held true.
"Len!" he heard a familiar voice call out his name. Before he could react, he felt slender arms wrap around his waist, a soft, achingly familiar body pressing itself to his back. Her soft skin and her body moulded perfectly to his, and he couldn't help but sigh, a quiet sigh of longing. "How was the trip?" she asked eagerly, having waited for his return for more than a week. He pried her hands loose from around him so that he could turn to face her, and studied her – the Guardian, Hatsune Miku, his childhood friend – more than just a friend, though that was only his hopes – and, before this whole Guardian business, the beauty of the village. He always knew, deep down, she would be chosen.
The Guardian of the village was someone divinely chosen by the gods themselves to be their conduit and priestess. She was always a maiden of astounding beauty and pure heart, and she oversaw the protection and calm of the sacred forest surrounding and protecting the village. The gods spoke through this Guardian to the elders and villagers, though occasionally they could speak to the villagers directly via dreams, without the help of the Guardian. The Guardian was chosen the day she turned eighteen, and throughout their lives they were primed to fit the role for it was always obvious who the Guardian would be in the future. They were always born with green hair.
The previous Guardian, Nakajima Gumi, had served faithfully till the age of two hundred and eighteen before giving up her position to the next Guardian, the day Miku turned eighteen, just two months ago. Gumi had passed on after that, and they had a respectful funeral ceremony for her, sending her spirit to the heavens to reside with the gods. He often wondered how long Miku would live, how much she would outlive him by. Decades, or even centuries perhaps.
"Let's not talk about business for now," he murmured, gazing into her wide eyes – they were a bright green that reminded him of the flourishing forest around them. He could see his reflection in her gaze. "I've spent more than a week away from the village. How are things around here, did anything happen recently that I should know about?" she smiled and pulled him over by his hand to a nearby log, on which she perched herself daintily. He followed suit, making himself comfortable.
"Well," she started, "there were quite a few things actually. Rin popped by a lot, she was so curious about what I was doing here, all by myself," a shadow of sadness flitted across her face, but it was quickly gone. It still made his heart clench, nevertheless. "I saw the elders constructing a hut in my forest, but I'm not sure what it's about, and I suppose that as long as they don't destroy more trees than is necessary, I won't have to take any action against them," she shrugged. The mention of the hut interested him, though. He wondered what the hut was for. "It's very strange," she remarked, "that in the past people in the village always just knew me as Miku and talked to me all the time. Now, whenever I drop by the village, people keep their faces down and hurry past me, and if they have to talk to me at all, they always fearfully address me as the Guardian. Am I that frightening?"
"No, of course you're not," he took her small hands in his. They were dainty and fragile, just like the rest of her. Miku had no parents, and was an orphan child his parents took in. She was born to their neighbour, a mysterious woman who only stayed in their village for the duration of her pregnancy and left the night after her daughter was born, presumably to return to the modern world – she was found wandering around completely lost in the forest, and the villagers had taken her in on the condition that she never spoke of their community to the outside world. She agreed, knowing that the elders had ways of tracking her promise. Len sometimes wondered what happened to her.
Since she was born only a few months after him, he had known her his whole life, and they grew up together, as close as siblings. When he was young, he did not know of the fate in store for her, but as he grew older he noticed the other villagers whispering about her hair and her beauty and her strange origins and slowly, he realised that she was primed to be the new Guardian, taking over the position of Gumi, who had served for two centuries already. Back then, he did not know what this would mean – he thought she would still be with them, and they would never have to be separated. It was only when she turned eighteen and was dragged away by the elders did he find out the truth.
Miku told him things about her life and her job. As Guardian, she explained, she had carried out the ritual which was her formal induction into her role, and during the ceremony she took in the spirit of the Guardian – a conglomerate of memories and experiences that was meant to aid her in her new duties. But sometimes they overwhelmed her, especially Gumi's, who had witnessed the events of the First World War and was scarred badly by the damage Man could inflict on each other. Sometimes, Miku said, her eyes darkened by memories, Gumi's soul would rise to the surface and attempt to carry out the same carnage on the village, and that was where all the problems started.
It would be so much easier if the gods could just take away this damaged part of the Guardian's soul, but they couldn't do so without destroying the soul utterly, and if that happened, Miku would have nothing left to guide her, no knowledge on how to maintain the grove and protect the village. It was something the elders decided too important to risk, so they told her to live with it. At first, she did, she really did try to suppress the previous Guardian, but she was not yet old or wise enough to keep her memories down for long, and when Gumi's scarred past came through, the village suffered. The Guardian, after all, rarely saw war or violence, but some of the wartime atrocities had come too close to the village and Gumi had to step out of the forest to protect them from being seen.
Whatever the Guardian saw of the outside world, she refused to say, nor did the village know because for the duration of the war, no one ventured out of their village, just waiting for the world outside to be calm. What she saw, however, haunted her for the rest of her time on Earth, and even now lingering residue of the trauma remained in her soul and memories. "I can feel her, you know," Miku said, her voice small. "I can feel her struggling to the surface, desperate to be free so she can wreck the world. She wants to show her power, cleanse the world of its evil, and she will begin with us," she shuddered, withdrawing her hands from his. "You should go," she looked away from him, eyes downcast, "I don't know whether I can protect you if I happen to lose control again."
"You won't hurt me," he leant forward, catching her chin lightly with his fingers, turning her head slowly back to face him. She looked upset, like he guessed she would be, but she did not struggle or pull away. He searched her gaze for any sign of guilt, because she would almost certainly be feeling guilty and helpless about all the destruction Gumi wrought in her body. "I know you wouldn't, and you know you wouldn't either. I bet even Gumi is aware of our bond. She wouldn't touch me," he leant his forehead against hers, resting there with his eyes closed, and she sighed, breath fanning out against his face. Her breath was sweet. "Don't worry so much," he murmured, trying to soothe her as much as he could, "I found a solution, the elders said it would work. We'll try it once we can."
"I hope it works. They wouldn't tell me what it was," she answered, voice soft. "Len, what if one day I lose control entirely and Gumi takes over? What if I turn into a vicious monster?" suddenly, her voice was seized with fear. "I'm frightened that the gods would abandon me when the time comes. They can't always be talking to me and reassuring me, and this is a battle they told me I have to fight on my own. They said that I have the power to suppress her," her eyes were lit with worry, "but I can't find it within myself. It makes me feel useless, like I'm not fit for the elders' expectations."
"Are you questioning the gods?" immediately, she pulled away, shaking her head frantically, and he smiled a little. "Then you have the power. If they said you have the power, then it means that you do and they're not lying. Believe in yourself, the same way I believe in you – the same way the whole village believes in you," he lied, a small white lie to help get her out of her depression. The whole village doubted her ability to control herself, honestly. It was why the elders sent him out looking for an alternative way to control her. Slowly, she nodded, a tremulous smile on her face but a smile nonetheless, and he drew her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug.
She hugged him back, burying her face in the crook of his neck, and he never felt more at peace than he did now. He wished things could be different – that she was just a normal girl, not the Guardian. They probably would have married and raised a family together if that was the case. But no, she was the Guardian, the voice of the gods, and she was special and different from him. She would live on after he died, and she would not be allowed to have a family, for that would distract her from her role as the High Priestess. Still, he dreamed at times for a completely different life.
Ultimately, though he could not be her lover, he could be her friend, and he knew that friendship was all that mattered to her – the fact that someone was not doubting her, but instead standing by her side in a show of solidarity. He would be that friend for her; he would never leave her.
"You're going to ruin the liquor, boy," the man hissed, rapping him hard on his back. Len jumped, rubbing his back in annoyance, before turning to face his employer. The man drew on yet another cigarette – Len had never seen him without one in his mouth – and blew out in his direction.
He coughed and spluttered, waving the smoke away. "When you collect the alcohol," the man said tersely, "you don't take the first few drops. They be poisonous, they are. Enough magic in there to kill a man if he drinks too much at one go," he laughed to himself, though Len didn't get the joke. "And you don't want to go around killing people with your liquor, do you, boy?" he rasped, patting him on the back. "Keep going, get it hard and strong. Knock out, as I like to say," he chortled to himself, Len once again missing the joke, before he moved on out of the room. Len sighed.
He watched as the drops of amber liquid dripped out of the tap, collecting in the barrel below. He knew the process now – the yeast, a fungus, which fermented grains like wheat and barley and turned it into alcohol, before it was filtered by a system that would separate the moonshine from the yeast mixture. He was quite sure he could filter out the yeast – the yeast always settled to the bottom of the mixture after some time, from what he observed, and they didn't need very much of this drink, so they could always just pour out the alcohol carefully without disturbing the settled yeast layer. He was tempted to try the alcohol at first, but the elders had warned him about its effects – and, seeing how his employer was like when he was drunk, Len decided he didn't want to try it anymore. He continued watching the liquid flow into the barrel, where his employer kept them out in a shed, letting the liquid mature a little before selling it on to buyers.
"Here, boy, take this," the gruff voice, now familiar to him, rang out again, and Len looked around to face his employer. There the man stood with his trademark cigarette, and in his other hand he cradled a dark brown bottle, made out of glass that was opaque so he could not see the contents. But he knew what it was, and he stared, quite shocked at this sudden act of generosity. The man laughed again at the look of utter surprise on his face. "I'm in a good mood today, boy, and seeing how much you've helped me with all the grunt work these few days, I'd say this is no big gift for you. Take some of your own hard work!" he presented the bottle with a flourish, and gingerly, Len took hold of it.
"Take a drink, go on," the man invited, and Len hesitated. Suddenly, all the whispered warnings and observations he made flooded him, and he stared vacantly at the bottle, mind caught up in other thoughts. "What are you waiting for?" the impatient voice broke through his internal monologue, and Len looked up, nervous – his employer looked annoyed now, something Len was accustomed to seeing. He decided he would just take a small sip to appease the man, so he uncorked the bottle and took a swig of the drink, completely unprepared for the liquid that would flow down his throat.
It was like liquid fire. He could feel it burning up his throat to his nose and his eyes, making his eyes water. He spluttered, coughing loudly as he thumped his chest, trying to get the taste of the alcohol out of his mouth. It tasted terrible, strong and foul. The man was laughing. "First time eh, kid? It's always like that the first time. This is strong beer, it is. But you'll get used to it, working for me!" with that, the man once again departed, and this time Len knew that he was laughing at Len's expense. He stared hard at the bottle he now held, some of the liquid inside having spilled while he was choking, and slowly, he corked the bottle again. He didn't know how this would help Miku, but he was sure that the elders were trying their best, and Miku was at a stage where she would accept any help that was offered, no matter how unorthodox. He decided he would bring this home to the elders.
When he presented the bottle with its liquid fire contents to the elders, they stared at it for a while, turning it over in their papery old hands and swirling the bottle, watching the contents swirl along. It smelled strong – just standing in the same room as the bottle and smelling the liquid when they uncorked it made Len think about his unfortunate experience with alcohol. "You did a good job, Len," one elder said, moving slowly over to him and patting him on the back. "This is what the gods said would help the Guardian forget…moonshine, I believe the other people out there call it. They brew it under the light of the moon. We shall try it on the Guardian and see if it succeeds where ritual and prayer have failed, this modern invention of man!" the elder proclaimed with pride.
Len neglected to mention that this was no modern invention, not quite wanting to ruin the festive atmosphere – or as festive as it could possibly be, given that he was in a room filled with people more than three times his age. He excused himself quickly, his mind in deep turmoil – he couldn't believe that something so wickedly strong could be the solution to Miku's problems. That couldn't possibly make Gumi forget – he thought it was more likely that the destructive, fiery nature of the liquid would spark her aggression and make her more likely to struggle to the surface of Miku's consciousness. He didn't want her anywhere near that substance, but the elders would no doubt try.
He wondered if he should visit her and warn her about the alcohol, but he knew that she would not listen to him. She was desperate for a solution, Gumi's mad whispers driving her mad herself, and she could no longer tend the forests or fulfil her priestess duties properly. She spent every day, from what he knew, holed up in her home in the forests, trying to prevent herself from bursting free of her skin and whirling destructively through the village. The last time she did that, three weeks after her initiation as priestess, twenty-eight people out of eighty had been injured, and two houses were utterly destroyed by the power of her magic. She would not allow herself to do so again, but Len feared that suppressing the alluring call of the previous Priestess was taking a toll on her health.
"Len, Len," his little sister ran up to him, her large white bow flopping in her hair. He didn't notice her until she tugged on his sleeve, and he looked down. Her blue eyes, completely identical to his, looked strangely solemn. "I saw Miku, she looked ill. She's outside there," she pointed towards the forest, at the very outskirts of the village, and Len froze, blood running cold. If she had come out of her forest home and was so close to the village itself… "Is she going to burn the houses again?" Rin asked inquisitively, without any worry – she was simply curious, as though she was discussing the time of day. But Len knew the implications, and he worried. Miku could not succumb again.
He sent his sister home with a few quick words, telling her to stay there until he came home again, and raced out towards where she had indicated. He spotted Miku soon enough – she was hiding within the shadows of the forest, just a few metres away from the nearest straw hut. Her green eyes, normally dancing with liveliness, were now glazed and empty. Her white dress trailed on the ground, making her look like a ghostly bride, back for revenge as she raised her arms, lips muttering an incantation. He saw the electricity crackling between her hands as she summoned the power of the gods, and he knew that he had to stop it somehow. He had to make the Miku he knew wake up.
Bravely, or perhaps stupidly, he threw himself right at her, both of them going down. Even though this wasn't the Miku he knew, he still couldn't bear for her to get hurt, so he turned them over and took the impact of falling entirely upon himself, shielding her carefully from the fall. He was winded somewhat, and Miku was lying on his chest, completely still and immobile. Slowly, as he caught his breath, she looked up at him, and his heart sank as he recognised her expression as not one of recognition, but one of cold, carefully-controlled rage. Again, up rose the hands, but this time there was no strange spell – she simply wrapped her fingers around his neck and tried to strangle him.
He choked, instinctively clawing at her fingers as her hands tightened, cutting off his air supply. Her eyes were glowing with fury at having been interrupted. "How dare you," she hissed, her voice hers yet at the same time not – there was a dark undertone to it that warped her voice and made it sound almost reptilian. "How dare you, you puny mortal, interrupt the High Priestess while she is communing with the gods! You shall pay with your wretched life!" she proclaimed, and he fancied he could see lightning in the green depths of her gaze – or perhaps that was just his dizziness making him see things. He couldn't really think properly anymore, and his hands were starting to weaken.
She was awfully strong, far stronger than he ever thought possible, and he couldn't break free of her grip. His eyes were closing and he was prepared to die when suddenly, the fingers loosened, and he could breathe again. His eyes flew open – he hoped that Miku had come to her senses, but he saw instead two men, one of them holding a wooden stick, standing with his sister, who had evidently disobeyed his orders to stay in the house. He was never gladder for her rebelliousness than at that moment, but as he looked at Miku, passed out on top of him, he wondered whether she would be able to continue this way without going insane. He hoped that when she awoke, she would be back to normal.
The men hauled the priestess up, one of them piggybacking her – Len could not help but feel a little, irrational sting of jealousy as the man grabbed hold of Miku's legs, her arms wrapped around his neck – but he knew that he was in absolutely no state to support the unconscious priestess now. He slowly rose from the ground with the help of the other man, but when he tried to take a few steps, he stumbled and had to hold on to his sister for support. His head was spinning from the close brush with death, and his lungs inhaled and exhaled, gratefully taking in the fresh air. He couldn't deny that, in those few moments, he was utterly terrified – and he was scared of his friend. Of Miku.
It made him wonder whether the elders were right in trying to cure her through liquid fire. Maybe for a case this bad, an equally terrible remedy would be needed. He tried not to think that way, though. He knew she didn't want any of this – it was all Gumi's fault. He wished that the dead priestess would leave Miku alone to do her job, but then he also knew that wishes rarely came true.
"More," she was crying now, her slender arms reaching out from behind bars. "I need more…I need it!" her voice rose into a high-pitched shriek, and Len flinched. "I need it to forget!" her screams faded away into a soft sobbing, and he couldn't bear to look at her, so broken and defeated.
Her normally smooth and shiny long teal hair was now matted, thick strands clumping together and trailing about in the prison's filth. Her white dress had turned grey from the accumulated dust, and there were streaks of dirt on her porcelain cheeks. Her limpid green eyes were pleading, half-mad and half-lucid as she now spent most of her time floating through a drugged, dreamy haze. And when there was no more alcohol, she wept and sobbed, wishing for more, wishing for death.
Len would have reached out to her and held her in his arms if he could. He wanted to go over to her, clutching desperately at the bars, and wipe the dirt from her face and place a kiss against her forehead, to let her know that everything would be fine, but the guards at the cell would never allow him to go near her. She was not mistreated, to tell the truth. They allowed her to bathe and eat and go out for short periods to exercise, and to maintain the forests. But she insisted on staying here for fear she would suffer a relapse – and, after she got addicted to moonshine, she refused to even change out of her clothes, and now she was completely filthy, and completely dependent on drink.
He wished he never brought the alcohol back or learnt how to make it. He was always tempted to stop brewing the alcohol for her, but the elders would not permit it – and, whenever he heard the heartrending wails of anguish that emanated from the cell, his heart would break and he would go back to doing his duty. He knew that this was just feeding her addiction to the liquid, to this accursed moonshine, but it was the only thing that could placate her, and he didn't know how else he could help. He was her friend, though he cared for her as though she was more, and he never wanted to hurt her – but if he did not make the moonshine, he would hurt her too. So what could he do?
It had been two weeks since her attempt on his life, and though she did not suffer any relapses, the elders noted with concern that she did not seem willing to fulfil her priestess role either. The forests would die soon without their Guardian, but the Guardian in question was not fit to perform her duties. The elders were praying daily to the gods for answers, but without Miku there to interpret their words, they were making no progress whatsoever. Right now, the whole village was holding out for a miracle, and they looked to him to do something about it. But again, what could he do?
He left the prison, troubled, her anguished wails still resounding in his ears. His nights were fitful and dreamless, and always he would wake up thinking about Miku and the situation at hand and how he could possibly remedy it – yet, save for travelling back in time and preventing himself from learning how to make alcohol, he couldn't see how he could save the town. He couldn't see how anyone could save them, though the elders were trying to keep spirits positive by talking about the gods who loved and blessed them, and saying how the gods would not leave them alone in times of crisis. Yet Len could see no sign of divine help, and was quite convinced that they were on their own.
It was getting late, so he went back home. His mother was cooking dinner, and his father was reading the evening papers in their parlour. His sister was playing with her toys on the rug in front of their father. It was a peaceful scene, and he would have been glad to be part of this serene family if the memories of his friend and love did not remind him of the problems in the village, making him aware that there was more to his world than just his family. "How is she, Len?" his mother called, having heard him come in from the kitchen. Len sighed, closing the door to the house behind him.
"Same old," he answered wearily. "I didn't imagine how addictive that stuff could be…I didn't even think she could bear to stomach it, it was so strong. But I guess when you're desperate you're willing to try anything," he shrugged, hanging his coat up on the hanger. His shoes, he put neatly with all the other shoes, pointing towards the wall like how his mother arranged them. He wanted to go up to his room and sleep, he was so tired, but he knew his mother would insist on him eating dinner.
"We do feel bad for her, you know," his father now looked up from his papers, grave and solemn. "She was our child for a long, long time, and she was like a sister to you. Your mother thinks she was almost more," his father glanced towards the kitchen, lowering his voice now. Len had to go closer to listen, stepping past his sister, who was completely ignoring the adults as she played with two dolls. "Your mother feels the most for Miku. She loved her like her own daughter, loved her so desperately, hoped that she wouldn't be the Guardian because she so, so wanted her to marry you. Now her dreams are dashed, she wants to avoid anything to do with Miku, so avoid mentioning her. Your mother likes to hear about her, but don't say it so directly. It makes her think of what she could have had," his father met his gaze, and slowly, Len nodded. It made him think of what he could have had too, but he learnt to let go and move on somewhat. Evidently, his mother did not do the same.
"Are you going to visit Miku again tomorrow?" Rin suddenly looked up from her dolls, and both Len and their father glanced at Rin, who was watching them closely with the uncanny knowing gaze of a child. "This morning, I saw a woman looking for Miku. She looked a bit like her, she had the same green eyes," Rin said vaguely. "She said that she has been hiding here for a while, and asked me if I knew where Miku was. I said I knew, but she's all locked up and no one except Len gets to see her, not even the other elders," Rin said sagely. "She went back into the forest after that, and I didn't follow her because Mummy said not to follow strangers," Rin went back to her two dolls.
Len and his father exchanged a look. "A woman with green eyes, you say?" their father asked Rin, who nodded absently, more focused on ramming her dolls together than the conversation her father was trying to initiate. "Did she have long black hair too?" Rin nodded again, and their father's eyes widened noticeably. "It can't be…after so long?" he muttered. Len, already suspecting who the woman was but not wanting to face up to it, touched his father on the shoulder. The man jumped.
"Who is that?" he asked. He wanted to hear the words for himself – he couldn't believe that she was back, this woman he had never seen before his entire life but had heard stories about. Stories from the other villagers, stories from his parents about this strange, mysterious woman no one had really spoken to very much. His father sighed, looking up at him. Blue eyes met blue, and father and son engaged in a sort of stare-off for a while, neither side willing to give in and speak first.
Len won, and his father spoke, albeit unwillingly. "Nyx. That's Nyx, Miku's mother. She hasn't been seen in this village for eighteen years, ever since she agreed to go back to the human world and never speak of our ways and customs, or of our existence at all. She was brought here entirely by luck and accident – how could she possibly have found her way back, and be looking for her daughter to boot? In fact," Len's father paused, "how does she even know her name is Miku? When she left her daughter with us, she was nameless. We were the ones who christened her Hatsune Miku, and even then we never told her mother about her name because she was gone by then."
"What are her motives in returning…?" Len echoed, more concerned about that than anything else. It had to be something to do with Miku – if not, why would this woman be looking for her? But there lay the question of whether or not she came with hostile intentions. Or did the woman, in fact, wish to bring Miku back to the human world outside to live with her? He froze – no, that couldn't happen. He loved Miku. And it was not just for his sake – the entire community needed the magic of the Guardian, even if she was not carrying out her job at the moment. This woman could not just take Miku away. If she did, they would have no protection from the elements of the outside world.
He and his father exchanged a dark look, but before they could launch into discussion, they heard his mother calling out – "Dinner is ready, come here and get your food!" she yelled into the parlour, and all three of them – his father, him and Rin – immediately left what they were doing and traipsed in a single file towards the kitchen. When their mother called, all other activities had to cease.
That night, Len lay in bed, restless and sleepless as usual. He had been this way ever since Miku got captured and was put in the holding cell by the elders, fed a constant flow of alcohol and minimal amounts of food since she only picked at what was on the tray, longing for her next alcohol fix.
She was becoming emaciated, her bones jutting out clearly underneath her skin. It was painful to look at, and it made the already fragile Guardian look all the more ill and weak. Her eyes were too big in her thin face, and if Len could, he would barge into her cell and stick the food forcefully down her throat. He couldn't just watch her waste away like that. Besides, everyone knew she was not ready to give up her position yet – no green-haired child was yet born to replace the Guardian, and besides, she was too young to stop serving. Most Guardians served for at least two centuries before passing on, the power and magic of the gods keeping them alive for far beyond a man's natural lifespan.
He was thinking and thinking, so hard and long that he wasn't sure when his thoughts slipped across the boundary into dreams. Surely he must be asleep, for suddenly he was out in the forests, which were slowly withering without their caretaker but no less beautiful for that. He had never seen the forest in the moonlight before, and the soft light made the trees and leaves look like they were covered in drops of precious silver. He found himself near the hut Miku said the elders were building – after she told him that, curiosity had driven him to explore with her, and they had found the dwelling, nestled in the heart of the forest, out of sight of the most adventurous villagers.
That time he saw it, the hut was half-finished, a gaping roof looking out into open sky. Now, the hut he saw was impossibly fully built, and warm orange light flooded out from the windows into the surrounding night. It made him think all the more that this must be a dream, but he couldn't force himself to wake up either, and he was no longer sure if he was still in reality. In a trance-like state, he walked towards the hut, reaching out to knock on the wooden door. There was silence after the echoes of the knock faded away, and he started to think perhaps no one was home, but then the door opened, and there stood the woman his sister had described earlier in the evening.
Somehow, while looking at her, he couldn't help but find her familiar. He had no doubt that he had never seen this woman before in his life, but when he looked at her regal posture with her long, jet-black hair and piercing green eyes, eyes the same colour as Miku's though undoubtedly more intense, he felt like he had known her all his life, and perhaps even before that. "I have been waiting for you," she intoned, and he felt this sudden urge to fall to his knees, in utter awe of her power. The ring of magic surrounded her words. "It has been eighteen years since I last saw you. You've grown."
He forced himself to speak. "You're Miku's mother, aren't you?" he asked, voice trembling a little. She nodded slowly, those deep green eyes still piercing him, and he swallowed, feeling almost guilty – it was as though she was looking through his soul, scanning him for any trace of a lie, any possible misdeed or wrongdoing. "Where did you go? You left her alone for eighteen years! And now you're back looking for her!" he exclaimed, though he shrank under her sharp gaze. She smiled. It was not a cold smile, but he was still somewhat intimidated by her. She just seemed so mystically powerful.
"Yes, I am looking for her because from what I understand, she is being troubled by a previous Priestess, one who left the world with bitterness in her heart," she murmured. He blinked, surprised. She swept her arm around the home she lived in. "This place, where I make my dwelling in the land of dreams, is meant for my daughter. The elders foresaw the next priestess might be troublesome, for Gumi was rather withdrawn following the events of the war, and they commissioned the building of a separate dwelling deep in the forest following my daughter's absorption of Gumi's darkest memories. They wanted to keep my daughter away from the village, and away from her possibly volatile tendencies."
He hesitated, not sure what to make of this information. "Then…who are you, really?" he asked. She continued looking at him with a calm, knowing smile on her face. "I mean, if you're able to control the land of dreams…" he looked down at himself, "if you can summon me to you in my dreams, then you can't just be human, right? I don't think even Miku, with her powers, can do the same thing as you, or at least if she can she has not realised," he said slowly. The woman laughed. It was a gentle laugh, the sound of bells pealing in the wind. It reminded him of moonshine – of the night, the silvery light of the moon as the night breeze swept and caressed his face. It was pleasant.
"I am Nyx," she proclaimed, her words filled with the sudden ring of immortal power. He shivered – the very aura of the woman caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand. "The night is my domain. I rule the moon. I am Nyx," she rose her arms to the night sky, "Goddess of the Dark, the Night and the Moon!" at the very last word, a silvery light burst out from her figure, making him throw up his hands to protect his eyes from the glare. The brightness faded, becoming a silvery glow that seemed to emanate from her skin. He peered at her from behind his hands, and she laughed.
"The moonshine to cure my daughter," she began, "is my light. It's not the alcohol that you humans produce, though the term is the same, I admit. She is the daughter of the goddess of the moon, and to come fully into her own powers, she needs my light," Nyx waved her hands, and in her palms there appeared an elegant glass bottle. In it, faint, silvery light glimmered, and it was mesmerizingly beautiful. He stared openly, unable to prevent himself from reaching out to grab hold of it. The goddess held the flask back, however, and he stopped himself, retreating back to his position. The goddess' green eyes narrowed. "However, the moonlight will not work on its own. It needs the love of someone who knows her – and unfortunately, due to certain…circumstances," her gaze saddened, "I was forced to leave her after her birth. I do not qualify for the sacrifice. Are you willing to take my place?" she asked, and helplessly, he nodded – how could he refuse such a request, when it was made to him by a goddess and when it involved helping the girl he loved out of her misery?
"That's good. I knew I could rely on you," the goddess beamed. "The sacrifice I need though…the moonlight needs your memories," he stiffened at the words. "The moonlight here is her power, which I bestow upon her from the heavens. But something is needed to ground her and her magic, and that is the memories of love – of someone who loves her fully and deeply, someone who would risk anything for her. The love of a mother usually qualifies, but I…am not anything more than a birth mother to her now," she sighed. "I would have asked your mother, for she looked after Miku in my place, but she still has a daughter to care for. I would not ask her to sacrifice that. You, however," she said gravely, "I know you love my Miku, and you took care of her when I could not. Are you willing? The memories taken are only those that involve spending time with her. You will forget who she is and who she is to you, but all other memories will be left intact. It's the only way to save her," the goddess stressed. Len deliberated. He didn't want to sacrifice everything he remembered of Miku – it was the only thing he had left, given that they had absolutely no future together.
But at the same time, he knew he couldn't just be so selfish. While he basked in his memories, the real girl was withering away into skin and bones, and her mother, the goddess Nyx herself – for he had absolutely no doubts that she was the goddess and that she was not lying at all about saving her daughter – had come to beseech him for his help. How could he possibly say no? He didn't want Miku to just…die, or fade away into nothing, when he knew he was the only one who could save her. So slowly, he nodded, and the goddess let out a sigh of relief. "Your help is essential to save my daughter from the manmade influence wreaking havoc on her body. It suppresses Gumi, but it also suppresses her magical abilities, and that is not what we aim for. Here, take this moonshine," she passed him the bottle, and he took it with a grunt – it was surprisingly heavy. "Remember to take the bottle to the jail tomorrow, after you wake up, and pass it to the girl behind the bars!"
It was strange that she was already referring to Miku as though she was a complete stranger, but as Len thought about Miku, the fuzzier the memory of her seemed to get. It was as though the girl he was thinking of was becoming a story, a story that he could not grasp on to and hold no matter how hard he tried. The memories faded like water trickling through cupped palms. "When you awaken, you will forget her, so let me tell you one thing, that answer to the burning question you've been asking yourself over and over again throughout the course of the past eighteen years – yes, she loves you too," the goddess whispered, the woman fading away, only her voice left behind in the wind.
A surge of happiness filled him, but he wasn't sure why because he could no longer remember who this Miku was. But he knew she had once been someone precious to him. Why was she no longer as precious anymore? He looked at the flask he held – it was getting heavier and heavier the more he struggled to recall, and he knew the goddess Nyx asked him to bring it to the jail tomorrow morning. He wondered whether the flask would still be with him when he woke up. The silvery moonlight was threaded through with another substance now – something like white silk. He wondered what it was, and why there seemed to be more and more of it the longer he looked into the flask.
His eyes closed, sudden sleepiness overwhelming him. He felt himself begin to fall into nothingness – the last conscious thought, or perhaps feeling, that he had, was just one word. Love.
Hatsune Miku smiled at the boy sitting opposite her, who smiled back tentatively, looking shy. Her heart ached when she saw him sitting so far apart, as though she was a complete stranger, when they had an entire history together. When once, she would have done anything to hear him say the words, 'I love you'. In the past, it had seemed as though there were so many occasions where he almost said the words, when she caught him looking at her with a particular look in his eyes…
"Len," she said softly. The boy jumped and smiled at her nervously. It had been a few months, and he was learning again their shared history. Her mother, Nyx, told her in her dreams that with time, his memories might come back, but that wasn't a hope she should hold on to. It would be better to create new memories with him, she said, so that was what Miku was trying to do. Sometimes, she could fool herself into thinking that the glimmer of recognition in his blue eyes was due to a memory recalled, but it was never the case. She refused to give up hope, however, like how he wouldn't give up on her back in the past. It had been an entire year since the incident with the moonshine.
When she was addicted to the alcohol, she remembered nothing but darkness, pain and misery. She lost all concept of time and day – her days were split into the periods where she had alcohol, and the periods where she did not. She liked it, liked the numbing, intoxicating effect the drink brought upon her – no longer did Gumi's' frenzied whispers resound in her head, no longer did she feel the insane urge to strike down the whole village the same way Gumi witnessed soldiers burning down an entire neighbouring town – but she also lost all concept of self. She was just another being, and the only thing that defined her was alcohol. Without her drink, she remembered, and she hated to recall.
One day, while she was curled up and shivering on the surface of the cold stone floor, Len came in, carrying a glass bottle. In it, a silvery substance swirled, and her soul instinctively reached out for it – something about the bottle drew her in. It beckoned to her, and the more she stared at it, the more she felt like she was coming home. She reached out for it – she didn't notice how Len flinched back from her, something he would never have done in the past – and, uncorking the bottle, she gulped down its contents greedily, feeling the airy silver slide smoothly down her throat.
It soothed her throat, which felt almost burnt from the strong liquor she ingested. But on top of that, the moonshine cleared her mind, and for the first time, she felt both lucid and alone in her head. She felt like she was in total, complete control of herself. She looked down at her skin and saw that she was glowing with a radiant silver light, like that of the full moon, and gasped in utter, complete delight – she had never felt more fulfilled. Tears, unbidden, ran down her face in her joy, and suddenly she heard another voice in her head, the voice of a new god – her mother's voice, Nyx, who told her about Len's sacrifice and the subsequent need for Miku in his life.
At that, the euphoria abruptly crashed, and she looked at Len with horror – Len, the boy she knew all her life, who had looked after her and taken care of her every need, who hugged her when she was scared or frightened and always told her he would protect her. The boy she knew had, on several occasions, almost kissed her – she could see it in his eyes, the desire to lean close to her and pull her to him and tilt her head up so that their lips could meet. He loved her completely, though she never acknowledged that because she knew they had no future together – and he made the ultimate sacrifice for her recovery. He lost all his memories involving her. He had no idea who she was.
She approached him from behind her bars. "Len," she said softly, and the boy looked at her quizzically, waiting for her to continue. She swallowed, thin fingers gripping the bars tightly – it was only now that she realised just how thin she was – and continued. "Do you know who I am? I'm Miku, remember? You knew me the whole time you were growing up. You remember me, don't you?" he continued staring at her for a while, and she thought he might actually remember something for he looked at her for so long, his eyes just flitting from feature to feature.
Then finally, he smiled apologetically, blue eyes meeting hers straight on. There was no hint of recognition. "I'm sorry miss, but I can honestly say that I have never seen you before in my life," he answered, and she heard no hint of humour whatsoever. He was, she realised, completely serious.
And that was the first time she could ever remember her heart breaking. People always said that it was figurative, that the heart couldn't really break, but then how did they explain the aching in her chest – the line of pain that seemed to radiate down her breast, making her whole body shiver?
"Len," now, she whispered again, lacing her fingers together. They were out in the hut that the elders had built specially for her, in the heart of the sacred forest. The elders let her go after witnessing her full and complete recovery, and she had regained all the weight she lost while she was in the cell. The elders, upon realising the pivotal role Len had played in her recovery, allowed him to make contact with her regularly in an attempt to jolt his memories, with full blessings from his family as well. The elders had even hinted that if any relationship blossomed, they would not interfere – she suspected that, upon realising she was the daughter of a goddess, they respected and feared her more than they ever did before. She was a demi-goddess now, half god and half human. She did not know who her father was, and Nyx remained tight-lipped on that, but she was undeniably curious.
Len reacted at the sound of his name, and he stared inquisitively at her, waiting for her to continue. She swallowed. Hesitantly, she reached out to his hand, and he watched her, not moving away. She approached his hand slowly, scared that she might frighten him away if she was too fast, like how frightened deer ran away from humans if they approached too quickly. Finally, she placed her hand in his, a familiar gesture that she had not done in a long, long time. It had been an entire year since the last time, she realised.
The look on his face was one of turmoil. "I wish I could remember you, I really do," he said quietly. "You're…you're kind of familiar to me. Sometimes, when I look at you, I get flashes of me spending time with you, and I never felt happier. I always felt like I…like I…" he paused, and she waited patiently for him to finish. He looked her in the eye for a while, then hastily averted his gaze. "I wanted to kiss you," he said quickly, "but something always held me back and I can't remember why or what," he met her gaze again now that this part was said. "You make me feel good. Even now, sitting here with you, I feel strangely calm. It's like I've known you a long, long time, Miku," his voice faded. Her happiness soared with the sound of her name. it had taken him a while to start saying her name, obviously uncomfortable with calling her Miku when everyone else called her the Guardian.
"You did. You knew me all your life," she answered. "If it wasn't for the sacrifice of your memories, I wouldn't be here today, and for that I am ever grateful," daringly, she squeezed his hand. He looked down at her hand, and to her surprise, he squeezed her hand back, his hand remaining wrapped around hers. His hand was noticeably larger than hers. Her heart began to race – it almost felt like the good old days, when he had his memories and she was carefree and they were simply happy.
"I want to love you," he said simply. "I wish I could. I'm trying, I really am," he closed his eyes, looking pained. She pulled away, and he let go, though this time he seemed reluctant. His eyes remained closed. She walked over to him, leaning over him, and all this time his eyes did not open. She hesitated, then she leant down to his level. She brushed her lips against his forehead, a light, gentle kiss, and his eyes flicked open in surprise, the deep blue utterly shocked by her actions. She grinned playfully back at him, reaching up to loop a stray strand of teal hair behind her ear.
"I hope that helped with your memories," she teased lightly, careful not to say anything too pointed lest he tried to push himself too hard into remembering. He seemed dazed and confused, but slowly, a smile formed on his lips and he looked intently up at her – before she knew it, he pulled her down to him and let his fingers twine in her hair, keeping her head against him as he reached up, lips gently covering hers. It was a chaste, quick kiss, no longer than a few seconds, but when he parted from her she felt as though her face was on fire. She reached up to her lips, utterly stunned.
"It did," he answered her tease with a bright smile, "it helped a little. Maybe you should do that more," he suggested, mischief in his gaze. She laughed. He smiled. The future seemed bright, bright and mysterious as moonshine. She wondered what else Nyx had in store for her, and imagined that somewhere up in the heavens, her birth mother was smiling down upon them.