A/N: Hey there … ^^ It's been a long time, I'm so sorry for not updating too long T.T. And I'm so sorry for the long hiatus of Bonne Nuit, it's not done, yet I'm here to give you a story that has a thread with it. But for you who haven't read it can be independence as well ^^. And with this I want to say thanks to Kamiya-Sensei, her story "Snow" really impressed me deeply even until this moment. Thank you so much for everything :).
Disclaimer: I don't own SS characters
Listening to: SENS and the scores from Orange Days.
Warning: Romance (straight XD). Bits grammatical errors.
Scraps from "Bonne Nuit": When Degel met Camus. He was sent by Sasha to twentieth century to celebrate Camus's birthday with the other Gold Saints. At last he was sent back to eighteenth century by Poseidon's assistance (spoiler here T.T).
One
All saints were now powerless. It was obvious. Athena had sealed their skills because they no longer needed it. It was incontestable. Holy war was over and she didn't want to take a risk Deathmask would launch Sekishi Me Ha only for fun, or Aphrodite ruined Kido's mansion garden only because he was angry with his fellows.
What everybody didn't know was Athena's state when she removed the Gemini saint's power. The older Gemini saint's power.
The sealing was done in Kido's mansion. When Saga's turn occurred, instead of focusing on her cosmos she thought about the old days when Saga was dying in her embrace. Also when he called her name heartrendingly as she cut her throat with the golden dagger. She couldn't deny that the Gemini saint had left too many reminiscences in her heart. Just the same with the Virgo saint.
At that time neither Saori nor Saga acknowledged the impact, even after he entered his room to test whether he had really lost his Another Dimension. As usual, when he was about to launch the attack, he imagined the details of the place which would be his victim's destination point. He put a book on his bed, then imagining the Pope Hall. Afterwards he murmured, "Another dimension."
The book didn't move even an inch.
Saga smiled, realizing his power indeed had been sealed. He stopped and exited his room to join his fellows eating strawberry-filled bread made by Aldebaran.
He never knew the book vanished an hour later, and popped on Shion's throne.
When Shion found it, he did nothing except keeping it in his library. If one of his subordinates or fellows left it in his temple, they would surely take it back someday.
And Saga didn't mind the book was lost. After all it was only Greek dictionary and he didn't really fond of it. He never tried to look for it, and never thought that the book was lost because of his Another dimension.
The book travelled from Japan to Greece only because he mentioned Another Dimension once, and he didn't know it.
What if he mentioned that 'spell' more than once? What if he mentioned it twice? Or ten times? Or …
… more than fifty times?
-000-
Siberia, in the afternoon …
When the cold wind of Siberia blustered the curtains and immediately froze the hot chocolate which had been heated up for at least five times that day, Milo growled. He approached the window, cursing about it never shut perfectly no matter what he had done.
"Camus, there's a problem with your window," he called. "Should I get some nails or something?"
Camus exited the kitchen and stared at the window from afar. He sighed, then walked towards it and checked its frame. He looked tired, Milo could tell. Those deep blue eyes only slightly wider than a slit, filled with a bit hollowness.
"You're alright?" asked Milo. "You look weary."
"Only a bit sleepy," Camus answered without turning his attention from the window.
"A bit?" Milo raised his eyebrows. Camus had traveled around the world for five days and barely rested or slept. Well … maybe not exactly around the world—he only visited Greece and Japan—but still it was too much. He had to attend a reunion in Sanctuary, in Graud Foundation, in Sanctuary again, in Graud Foundation again, and now when he returned to his beloved hut, he had to deal with an irritating visitor who made protest about his window.
Milo was tired himself, but he didn't really bother because he had slept too tight inside the plane. There had been some times when he had opened his eyes, and he could only roll his eyes seeing his best friend still awoke and gazing at the floss-like clouds outside.
The Scorpio was about to tell Camus to take some rests when he heard something from the corner of the livingroom.
"Another dimension …," the voice murmured. "Another dimension …"
Milo shook his head. He wondered whether the speaker was too tired that he never stopped mentioning the phrase. Maybe he was counting it in order he could fall asleep, instead of counting imaginary sheep.
"Another dimension …"
"Fifty," Milo helped him to count.
"Another dimension …"
"Fifty one."
"Another dimension …"
"Fifty two. You've mentioned those words for fifty two times, Saga, now you'd better cut it out."
Saga turned his head and stared at Milo, as if he had been awaken from some trance. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "Can't help it."
"You still worry about it, don't you?" asked Milo as he stepped to the couch and took a seat beside the Gemini saint. He took Camus's book—a collection of poetry—Saga has read and opened its pages absentmindedly.
Saga had insisted accompanying Milo in the flight to Siberia only to make sure the Scorpion would survive in that freezing land. Last time Milo visited Siberia he immediately got a very contagious fever, which later on infected almost the whole Sanctuary's inhabitants.
"You'd feel the same way if Poseidon told you there's still a bunch of supernatural power in your flesh," Saga said flatly.
"You don't need to believe him, Saga, case closed. Athena has sealed our power and there's no way we can do those cursed jinxes again."
Saga smiled slightly. He knew that beyond all prides Milo announced about Scarlet Needle, he couldn't help to hate it as well. The same as he despised Galaxian Explosion—to many lives had lost because of those blows.
"Poseidon shouldn't have come to the reunion," murmured Milo. "He only made matter worse."
"It was a reunion discussing about Chronos's threat anyway. Athena needed him to assist her. Though nobody of us like him I can't refute the fact that we need his help right now." The Gemini frowned his forehead. "But I was quite taken aback when he told me he sensed something inside me, arguing that I haven't lost all power."
"And he's wrong," replied Milo. "You've mentioned 'another dimension' for more than fifty times but see, nothing happened. Camus and I aren't flying to Deathmask's pantry or something."
Both Saga and Milo didn't know that Camus smiled slightly hearing the joke.
"Besides," Milo continued, "We're all powerless, why aren't you?"
"How could I know?" Saga finally stood up after couple minutes. "I think I have to leave now … I can't take the coldness anymore."
"No one asked you to come," said Milo, but his eyes were filled with gratitude.
"I have to make sure you're alright, unless you'll catch cold again and I'm the one who must deal with all responsibilities," Saga sighed as he put on his coat. "Sometimes I wish I was ten years younger …"
"If it happened, who would be our big brother then?" asked Milo.
Saga was mesmerized, as if there had been a sudden spring season inside this below hundred temperature.
"Aiolos?" answered Saga, smiled slightly.
"You and Aiolos are a team," smiled Milo. "If one of you resigned things would never be the same again."
"I'm so honoured. I have to go now," Saga stepped at the door after he clapped Milo and Camus's shoulders lightly. The cruel wind pierced the hut as Saga opened the door, and ceased after he exited and closed it again.
"You don't think he's still got his power, do you?" asked Milo. He took the poetry collection again, a bit paid an attention toward the poems right now. It was full of the verses of 18th and 19th century poets.
"No," said Camus. He had finished with the window and sat beside his best friend on his couch. He looked at his fingers, small blood spilled from his thumb. The window's sharp edge had slashed his thumb in the middle of his work.
"Your thumb?" Milo frowned as he saw the blood.
"Nothing serious, Milo," said Camus, in his usual flat tone but with a hint of impatience. Milo's concerns began to get him tired—even after fourteen years he couldn't get why the Scorpion always bestowed too much sympathy towards the one who rarely gave him any.
"Here," Milo had took a medicine box from the kitchen and gave Camus a sheet of bandage.
"I can get it myself," murmured Camus as he received the bandage reluctantly.
"You don't need to do everything by yourself," Milo sank himself on the couch. He read the poetry collection again, being unfocused, though. "You're really different with him," he suddenly said.
Camus turned at Milo.
He knew whom he meant.
It's been a long time since Degel was time-travelling from the eighteenth century to have a reunion with twentieth century Gold Saints, but the moments would never cease.
Inhaling a deep breath, Camus covered his thumb with the bandage. "We're two very different people," he murmured.
"Yeah, you are," Milo agreed. "Degel never refused someone who tried to lend a hand on him."
"You talk as if you've known him well."
"Spending six hours with him is enough to understand what kind of human he is," replied Milo. "Spending fourteen years with you isn't enough to get what kind of … things you are."
"What's the point of this?" Camus started. "Are we going to quarrel only because my thumb is wounded?"
"No," Milo answered plainly. "I'm just trying to say that you don't need to do everything alone when you've got everybody around you. When there comes a moment you have to face everything all alone, you'll realize you need your friends the same as they do."
Silence.
Milo knew he probably brought too much on this, but that fridge had made him fed up. His coldness, his I-am-an-independent-glacier-who-doesn't-need-anyone, his ungratefulness.
"When Saga accompanied me to visit Siberia, I refused as well," Milo finally spoke. "But then I acknowledged he did it because he cared so much about his fellows, and at last I allowed him to."
Camus took a deep breath again, then gazed at the floor.
Maybe they were right, after all. He was a heartless iceberg who thought he would survive without anybody's assistance. But why asking for somebody else's help when he could do all things by himself?
He wanted to tell Milo about that, but then he knew it would be troublesome. So he leant on the couch and stared at the hearth without saying any word.
"They shut the road to the woods …"
Camus a bit startled, thinking that Milo babbled about any unimportant things again. But he remembered that line was taken from Rudyard Kipling's poem. Milo was murmuring the poem he read.
"Seventy years ago," Milo continued. "Weather and rain have undone it again,/ And now you would never know/ There was once a road through the woods/ Before they planted the trees."
Milo kept reading, and when he almost got to the last line, he turned his head on Camus.
Camus had closed his eyes, sleeping. And so he was able to sleep after being sleepless for heaven knows how long.
Milo smiled before he murmured the last line of the poetry. "But there is no road to the woods …," he said sadly.
There is no road to the heart sheathed with ice. You've shut the road many years ago …
-000-
-000-
Forty minutes had passed, and Milo started to feel hungry. He looked at Camus, still sleeping tight on the couch. He searched in the kitchen and growled when he found nothing there. He knew the canteen in this deserted landscape was about two miles away, but that was the only option left if he didn't want to get starved.
Milo wore beyond-anyone-imagination layers of coats, then exited the hut and started his steps to the meal store. "I hate this …," he'd growled for about hundred times. The stormy wind and snow blustered wildly that it often forced his feet to shift backside. Though the sun shone behind uncountable glaciers lacquering the frosty land, Milo couldn't feel even a dot of its warmth. For million times he wondered why Camus bestowed too much affection on this land, as if it happened to be his own wife or something.
He didn't remember how long he had travelled—oh well he remembered it … three hours.
And when he entered the hut, Camus wasn't there.
"Camus?" he shut the door tight and stared at every corners of the hut. "Camus, I'm home," he took the coats off, but still kept two layers of them. Then he stepped to the kitchen and poured the meals on two plates.
"Camus?" Milo called again. "Where is he …? Playing snowballs or what?" he then checked the bedrooms, the toilet, everything. No sign of any turquoise hair.
Milo frowned.
He knew he shouldn't give any big deal, but he felt something wrong here. He and Camus had been best friends for fourteen years anyway. Whenever anything bizarre or odd happened to Camus, he was always able to sense it rightaway.
Milo's eyes stared at two plates of meals he had prepared.
Trying to imagine Camus was only playing with a cute polar bear, he walked to the telephone. Dialing Kido's mansion number in Japan would cost too much, but alas. Like he cared.
Soon he heard someone picking up the phone and the noises he had known. "Hello, Kido's mansion here."
"Hey, Saga. You're arrived? By the way, is Camus there?" The distance between Siberia and Tokyo was only two hours away and he hoped Camus was in Kido's mansion right now.
"What? No," Saga answered, to Milo's disappointment. "Why you're asking me that? Isn't he in Siberia?"
"I was left the hut some hours ago, and when I returned Camus wasn't here."
Far away in Kido's mansion, Shion and Mu just came and all their fellows were marching on them, looped around the souvenirs Mu brought.
"Milo," Saga laughed slightly. "He probably was out for something, he'll be back."
"You sure?" hearing Saga's encouragement made Milo a bit calm down. This was why Saga meant a lot for all of them; a brother, an advisor, everything which his juniors were lack of.
"Of course. Now stop worrying too much, he was in his own land, nothing's going to happen with him, see."
"Everyone," in Kido's mansion, Shion raised his voice in order it can be heard between the shouts 'I want that d**mned red Jamirian scarf!' his juniors performed. "Could you tell me whose dictionary is this?" Shion lifted a Greek dictionary in the air. "I found it in my throne a year ago and waited someone to take it back, but no one came."
Which made Saga startled.
-000-
