A/N; It's been a while. :|

Disclaimer; ...nope. Not one bit of it.


She sat in the quiet office, the clock ticking silently on the wall. The blonde sitting behind the desk put tan boots up on the desktop.

"So, what is your definition of happiness?"

"This is for a philosophy project, right?"

"Yes."

The blonde behind the desk sighed.

"My definition of happiness."

Deep thought was etched on the ageless face, the chair tilted back onto two legs.

"I do not think that true happiness doesn't exist in this world. No one is ever truly happy here."

"That's not true!" The girl was appalled. The other thought for a moment.

"You are right- I correct myself; true happiness does not exist often. It can be found in small, simple quantities that are far and few in-between.

But the tragedy is that these moments are like soap bubbles, or glass-the moment you find them, they break and can never be found again. And so over time the bits of happiness that are found are used up and the next generation cannot use them. So true happiness becomes rarer and rarer with each generation. Eventually the emotion of happiness will be obliterated and the world will be better off for it."

The girl looks at the teacher solemnly.

"You really believe that?"

"Yes."

"Why? Isn't it better to believe that happiness exists somewhere?"

"If no one were happy, there would be no jealousy. No jealousy means no demands. No demands mean that no one can keep anything; no keeping means that there will be no arguing over it. No arguing means no fighting. No fighting means no war, and no war means that there is peace.

Peace means that I do not have to fight anymore. That I can rest, finally. Do you see, little one?"

"Yes." The girl turns off the recorder and stands. "Thank you for your time Coach….um…"

"Tenoh. Tenoh Haruka." They shake hands and the girl leaves.

Haruka leans back in her chair and ponders what she told the girl. There was once a time when she was not quite so jaded. But that had only been a few precious years and those had been a long time ago.

There had been a time when she thought that the future was bright and promising, when she had had a family and love, a time when the girl that was to lead the world into a new century was still alive.

Haruka sighed and shook herself. There was no use in dwelling on the past. She packed up her things and left for the day.

There was a part of the cycle that she had not told the girl; the absence of war meant that there would be no need for death, other than as a peaceful end at the end of your time, no death meant that there would be no one left to grieve; no grief meant that there would be no need for vengeance, and no vengeance meant that she could rest, finally.

The office was still. The afternoon sun hit two photographs that stood on her desk. One held a group of five girls and one man. The man was dark-haired and stood to the back of the picture, a slightly amused look on his face at the antics of the other occupants of the photo. The other picture held only four people; Haruka, a young somber-looking girl, a woman with teal hair and a mysterious smile, and a taller darker woman who stood with them, yet separate from them at the same time. Sometimes a bold student would dare to ask the formidable track coach who the people in the pictures were.

The only answer they were ever given was that 'They are merely reminders'. But reminders of what or who, she would not say.

Fin.