It took me a while to muster up my courage to publish this thing. Thanks to xXMrs. RaymondXx , and ravenbynight. ravenbynight gave me permission to use the "Rin I", "Len I" idea. :) And xXMrs. RaymondXx provided inspiration for this story.
Of course I thank all of my followers too! XD It must be annoying to keep getting FanFiction PMs like this. Now, on with the story! kthnxbai~
Rin I
Hello. My name is Rin. Let's start with a simple introduction.
I live in someplace you've probably never given a second thought in your life.
I like things that you may deem as strange or weird.
I love someone who you believe is simply a failure at living.
Sounds like a typical sappy fairy tale, right?
Only if you choose to think of it that way.
.:. A fresh breeze whispers its way across the grassy meadow. The smell of fresh-cut grass to be set in the barn to make hay still lingers in the air. The sun is on the verge of rising to noon-mark. Looking down, I see my shadow much taller than I, and I wish for a moment that I would be as tall as my shadow is now… .:.
Everyone keeps their secrets. You, me, Father, Mother, my sister, my brother, the soapwort flower, the heavy, drenching rains that come yearly to give the plants their feed, and much else. As we move along in life, we may drop some secrets and acquire others. It's a normal process of life, nothing to wonder or worry about. Our personalities change. Our heights change. Our looks change. It's nothing much to speak about.
For example, that calm goat chewing its cud you see over there may be a rampaging monster when he sees another goat messing with his loved one. These tiny shoots of grass down here may suddenly lose their determination to grow and wilt of their own accord. My neighbor, who lives a mile away, may be robbing passersby on his spare time. And that dignified lady over there, sitting on the bench…who knows, maybe she was once an unruly, wild girl like I am, curious about every little thing in the universe and often getting in trouble with her folks for doing so.
Alright, stop staring at me. I'm kidding. I don't read brains; I don't know anybody's secrets any more than you do.
Except for my own.
Up until now, I've always thought there was no problem in creating a secret. It's simply a part of you that's shrouded and obscured with your secure blessings. Or so I thought.
There was this one secret kept from me, that I managed to pry out from protective fingers.
What I didn't think was that that secret is enough to harm everyone around me.
—~'~—
Sooner or later, in your life, you'll find love. Love is a precious thing, a single piece of sparkling gold in the midst of so much sickening pyrite. In fact, you may go through several persons until you find your soulmate.
Or sometimes, you acquire your soulmate at first glance; you just don't know it or you don't want to admit it.
Trust me, I know. I know because I've been through it.
I'm sure you've had enough of my constant chatter about nonsense already. Maybe you'd like, for compensation for your time and entertainment, to hear my story.
—~'~—
In stories you hear, most nights are silent, but there's a big motive dwelling in its depths. A secret murderer hiding in a bunch of lilacs, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, maybe. Or maybe a princess on the run, using her skills to be as quiet as the night.
It's not true in real life, actually.
The night is alive with sounds. Crickets chirp, raccoons scuffle about, the house creaks.
The only reason why I experience a close-to-silent night is thanks to my height off the flat ground. I live in the mountains. The air's fresh up here, and rarely none living spare themselves the climb. The only sounds I hear are of Father's snores and Mother's muted breathing, and perhaps our kitten Iana* prowling around for mountain mice to catch.
If you happen to be in our house and look out the east window, you can see another mountain's twin peaks piercing the sky. We call that mountain Montem Decus**. In the very early morning, a shroud of gray mist always surrounds the peaks and gives it a mysterious feeling. It's only until the orange sun rises that the fog is burned away and the twin peaks are unveiled. I never get tired of looking at the magnificent sunrises; it's almost as if it's created by the spirits' light themselves, the sun's rays spilling over the horizon and illuminating the land soft saffron.
But right now it's the night. Sleeping is troublesome for me. As a child I've always been afraid of the dark, and the darkness makes me think of frightening things. Even though I'm already thirteen, and turning fourteen the end of the year, my thoughts in the night are no different. For every shadow made in the dark, every snuffling sound that finds its way to my ears, another spark of fear ignites in my stomach.
I sleep on the floor. Sure, it's cold and hard, but sometimes it feels alive. It's these times that I feel comfort. I tap the floor now, hoping that some warmth will take over the cold fear that's burning for a while now. Behind the thin screen, I can see Father's shadow cast by the moonlight, his strong, tall form moving up and down with each breath. I can just make out the blurry outline of Mother's hair from behind him, her petite form moving too, but not as much.
"It's all right, it's all right," I whisper. "Nobody's out there to get you…" Just as the phrase falls from my lips, I suddenly feel a warm, furry body cuddle up to me.
I freeze, and the hairs on my arm prickle. Slowly, I turn toward the figure; just then, the moon shines a sliver of its light across the floorboard, and I see pale, platinum fur and a pair of sky blue eyes, the same as mine, staring back at me.
It's only Iana. I breathe a sigh of relief and comb my hands through her fur. She purrs softly.
As my fingers detect every small, tangled strand of Iana's fur and work it loose, my mind wanders elsewhere. Images flicker through my mind as my eyes remain still, fixed to the ceiling. I'm seeing images of towns, regal columns made from solid white marble, quaint brick and whitewashed houses, thin wire of the purest and softest gold spun from hand, children shouting and playing, palaces…Anywhere my imagination takes me.
It's like this that I fall asleep into the dream that I would someday be able to see what town living feels like.
—~'~—
As it turns out, that day comes sooner than I think.
Didn't I say before that the sunrise here is wonderful? Well, it is. I watch the night sky give way to the sun. It's a mixture of perfect colors, in sync with each other and moving every second. The sun's light almost seems to slice the mountains; a few thin rays escape and…It's hard to describe, but it's like light piercing darkness. Colors are skillfully woven about. The dark, opaque shape of the twin peaks at this time of the day resembles darkness and the light is like…Good triumphs over evil?
"Rin," Father calls from inside. I turn to see him holding out a bucket to me. "Go fill that in the well," he instructs me. I know better than to complain, but I don't like being interrupted when beholding a magnificent view.
I take the bucket from him and I start the walk toward the well. It's not long. It's simply this dusty road, cut in because of our frequent visits. The well is constructed out of stone—Father and our neighbor made it. We go there to get our water almost every day, because fresh water is not for storing; it's for drinking.
There's a thick, braided rope for the bucket to hang on as it descends its journey down to the depth below. All I have to do is to hook the bucket onto the rope and wait. A simple splash would announce the bucket hitting water; it would become much heavier and take much more energy to haul up once more.
—~'~—
Usually when people succumb to a certain feeling you can tell by the way they act, their expressions, and other signs. After many years of being frustrated by Father's stonelike mask, I realized how to tell by simple little signals that he was annoyed or happy. For example, his mouth twitches when he's trying to hide joy, and there's a strange light in his eyes when he's infuriated. It's actually easy to tell, if you get it.
So right now, when Father's sitting across from me with a stoic expression, I can tell that he has some good news behind his back, waiting for the correct moment to pour out.
Mother's at the edge of her chair. Apparently she had noticed Father's signs too. She's excited; that familiar nervous energy vibrates off of every muscle in her body. My brother has caught on quite quickly, too; he's looking expectantly at Father.
Only my blunt sister Lily is still fiddling with her hands.
Father takes a deep gulp of well water, and keeps drinking until the cup is dry. He holds it to Mother, who nods and fills it to the brim with some well water in her stone pitcher. He drinks again, this time more slowly, and sets the glass onto the table with a thunk.
"Hurry up, Papa," says Lily, realizing why everyone is acting so strangely. Mother frowns.
"That is no way to talk to your father. He is excited about the news, and it is he who chooses whether or not to speak. Would you talk like this to your suitor, too?"
Lily scowls. She's pretty, with a curtain of glistening blonde hair falling like a waterfall down her back. Her eyes are a deep blue, much like Mother's. The only problem with her is that she's too obstinate, and if you are to ask for Mother's opinion, she'd say that Lily would never acquire a suitor this way.
But in fact, she's attracted quite a lot of young men all around the mountain with her beauty.
"Rin," Father suddenly says. "Are you with us?"
I gulp and sit up straighter. "Yes – yes, Father."
"I was just saying," Father continues, "that we would be going to the town."
A collective gasp runs from one end of the table to another. Because we're nestled up high in the mountains, we don't have access to many things. Town means fine silk and rich brocade. Town means salted pork and aged, storemade cheese. And more to the children than anything else—town means toys. Toys all shapes and sizes, found in a woodcarver's shop or a steel-molder's store. Immediately, questions and comments are aroused: "Which town?"; "What should we buy there?"; "We've run out of a lot of thread; just look at Rin's shabby frock", and so much else.
Father clears his throat and holds up a finger. Questions cease, commenters fall silent. "Don't think I'm going alone," he begins, and pauses to take a sip of his water. "We're going with Haku."
—~'~—
I'm sure I've mentioned my neighbor before. His name is Dell Honne, and living with him is Haku Yowane. She's a widow who's lost her married family some twenty years earlier due to plague, and is Dell's sister. She eventually moved back with him two years ago. Since then, she's educated herself with the arts of medication and acupuncture, hoping for one day to conquer all diseases that dare to strike her and the only family left.
Haku's not bad, really. I've never really met her, so I can't be sure. But I've seen a few glimpses of her when she's walking around to gather plants and herbs. Her hair is practically white; there are some silvery strands of gray in there, spaced far apart and giving it a shimmery feeling when the sun shines on it. Haku's eyes are really a chestnut color, but they shine red when the sun's in her eyes' way of seeing. She usually keeps her hair in a tight ponytail just at the nape of her neck. Mother says Haku's not as old as she looks—it's only because of the tragedies in her life—but now and then I can't help but wonder about it.
So when Father says "Haku", immediately, the whole table falls silent.
None of us know her quite as well enough as Father. Mother doesn't usually associate with her, Lily believes that she's just trying to attract attention, Oliver (my younger brother) is quite afraid of her, and I don't know what to think.
"I suppose you'll just go with her," Mother sighs finally, running a hand through her thick indigo hair. "Surely there can't be some other way…?"
Father lays a hand onto Mother's arm. "Aoki," he says, with a rare gentleness, "Haku isn't as bad as you think."
Mother frowns. "I do not think lowly of Haku-san. I simply believe that she should marry another if her husband dies. What harm is there…?"
"You have never been in the pain Haku has been, and it's safe to say I haven't either. We both cannot say."
"Still, but I don't…" Mother frowns.
"It's all settled then," Father interrupts. "I will take a daughter to come and fare with me. Oliver, I'm sorry." He turns and smiles sympathetically at Oliver. "You have to stay home with your mother to help with the chores—she has to have a young man at hand at times." Oliver cracks a weak smile, but that's it.
Father turns back to us, looking at us in the eye. "Who wants to go?" he asks Lily and I.
There's a fiery spark in Lily's eyes. Her back is rigid, her mouth set in a thin, defiant line. Her hands were folded tightly on her lap, and she stared ahead without a word.
"Oh, I don't…Lily?" Mother asks gently.
"I don't like it," says Lily simply.
"Like what?"
"The town." She turns her eyes away, which I was shocked to discover is brimming with tears.
"Alright," Father says, even though he doesn't sound sure. "Rin? Are you coming with me? Rin Kagamina?" I blink and look up at him.
"Take care," Mother says. "Fare well on the journey."
Father accepts the coat she's holding out to him. "And you too, fare well at home." He kisses her lightly on the cheek, then turns to me. "Aoki Lapis, she needs a new coat."
Mother turns and scrutinizes me, brushing her thick indigo-violet bangs out of her eyes, which are a rich sea green. She crosses her arms and looks for a long while, before nodding and sighing. "You're right. She does."
"Should I stay home?" I ask.
Mother shakes her head. "No. I suppose I'll lend you mine." Her coat is a pearl white, and it has neat, small golden buckles that could be undone easily even by frozen fingers. She got it when Father went on an expedition some time before, and cherishes it greatly. I don't even want to touch it; it's that perfect, and if I do, I'm afraid I'll ruin something.
She must have noticed the look on my face. "It's alright, Rin. Take it."
I nod my thanks and slip on the coat; it's delightfully warm. Lily shrugs and begins to eat.
—~'~—
The mud is soft under my toes. My knees are digging into the fresh soil which already has tender grass shoots sprouting from it. I pick a wild daisy; its petals are thin and easily see-through, but it's a tough species. A wind suddenly blows and the petals of the daisy snap off and get carried away. I'm left with a bald center and a pinched, thin stem which has purple marks where I held it.
Sometimes I'm afraid my relatives will fly off, just like that.
Father, Mother, Oliver, and Lily.
Those are the only relatives I know.
I hum a tune to myself as I drop the broken daisy and pick a new one. Dell is up the hill, talking to Father, and Haku must be inside. Therefore, I'm all surprise when a shadow of a tall woman falls over me.
Haku takes a seat next to me. "Beautiful flower, isn't it?" she asks, gesturing toward the flower.
"Y–yes," I stammer.
Haku doesn't say anything more. She simply picks another one. I'm even more surprised when she puckers her lips, closes her eyes, and blows the flowers the way she would a dandelion. The petals fly off the opposite direction they did mine, and seemingly disappear into the sun, shining brightly in the sharp blue sky.
"Why did you do that?" I ask.
"Don't you know?" Haku turns to me; now it's her turn surprised. "It is believed that every daisy's petals you blow off, you are granted a wish."
"You are?"
Haku nods, looking at her naked stem. "My brother never liked those myths, though. He preferred the reality…the raw reality." She tosses her stem somewhere far away, the poor thin thing spinning around and around in the air before landing someplace over the hill. "I liked to imagine. Since you don't know about this, I would guess your father was the same…?"
Now that I think about it, I really don't know. I shrug.
Haku glances at me. "I know that your mother is not from this mountain, and this daisy here"—she gestures toward a small patch of them, a few feet away from us—"grows only on this mountain. Not much are willing to risk the journey upwards." She laughs. "If there was any legend, the attitude your father has…she would not know."
"You don't know much about her," I blurt, then cover my mouth. Oops. I shouldn't be speaking. I'm just the same about Haku.
And surely enough, she replies, "I don't know much about you, either."
There is a silence as the wind ruffles the grass as a loving uncle would to his niece's hair. In the distance, tall pine trees pierce the skies, Montem Decus's twin peaks along with them. There's nothing to behold for a citygoer. Simply miles and miles of grass, rough terrain, mud, forested areas, or some out of the four. But for us mountain folks…Each breath the mountain takes shudders with life.
Near the pine trees I can see goats nipping at the pines' lowermost branches. There is the faint, fuzzy outline of a boy along with them. I can see shadows etched upon the grass as well. Every little thing on here…it's wondrous.
"This place is beautiful, isn't it?" Haku asks in a low voice.
"How do you know what I'm thinking?" I demand, turning to her before realizing that that might have sounded rude.
"How could I not? Your eyes are a very clear window to your soul."
I open my mouth to respond when I realize there's nothing to say about it. I clamp my mouth shut, with a sheepish, "Yes, you're right." Haku doesn't respond at that. She only stands up and shades her eyes as she skeptically views the landscape.
"Back when I lived in the city, we lived close enough to each other that it was less than a one-minute walk from one house to the other. But here…" She frowns, and speaks as if she's talking to herself. "Here, we have to walk more than thirty minutes if we are to go for help. Fifteen at least if we're using horses. We have to fend for ourselves in this mountain climate. I can't say I'm particularly disappointed in this, but sometimes I long for the company of others."
"I see," I say softly.
"There was a woman in the town I lived in, too," Haku continues. "Her name was Miku; she had a son a few years back, about the same age as you—how old are you?"
"Thirteen."
"That's right, her son is turning fourteen next month. Always a sickly boy." Haku clucks her tongue. "So she sent me a letter some months ago, talking about my medicines. Since I can't hire anyone on this mountain to make the trip for me, I have to go myself, except Dell has to tend the goats here, and my skills at driving a wagon are not very good, though I can. So Dell called your father here." Haku shrugs and takes a seat again. "You'll get to meet the boy. He's at the worst of his sickness so far, and he's kept in a medical room, but I believe you'll like him."
The unneeded information makes me sort of nervous. I don't know what to expect, but I should like him? Like, as in what? Fall in love, or just be friends? I laugh slightly. Being friends with a boy…it's a weird thought to hold onto. Since I don't see much boys my age on this mountain—Oliver is too young—I really can't imagine how it's like.
Father calls us from up the hill.
"Are you coming or not?" Haku asks, rising to her feet. I nod and wrap Mother's jacket more tightly around me, hurrying up the hill after her.
—~'~—
"Well, take care," Dell says as he piles a few blankets onto Haku's lap.
"Honestly, Dell, we don't need these," Haku says, giving them back to him. "We're just on a little three-day trip; it's not like we'll—it's not like I'm going to be marrying again." Dell frowns at that, and hands the blankets back to her.
"It gets cold down there. So these are just for you to stay warm."
"We're higher in altitude than them," Haku says, rolling her eyes, tossing the blankets to him. "How could it be colder down there than here?"
"Just…I don't like it. You already lost your family once, and people there are vicious. Did you hear that Luka was burned at the stake because she was criticized a witch? Oh, right, you don't know, because you weren't there. Luka was visiting an old friend of hers, and then a young man fell in love with him—Gakupo is his name, I recall—but someone was jealous, and she went up in flames that way." Dell's voice is bitter, but it becomes tender every time he says Luka. "Haku, just…take these blankets, please."
Haku is quiet for a moment, before she sighs and finally succumbs to Dell. "Alright, Dell. Take care while I'm gone."
"Right," says Dell. Their eyes meet for a split second, before Dell turns away and Haku averts her eyes. He goes back up the hill, as Father snaps the whip. Soon, I find myself clinging for my life to the back of the wagon as we fly down the hill.
In a day, I'll be seeing my first glimpse of the town at the foot of this mountain. A feeling of excitement rises in me, rearing and snapping at my insides.
* - My deprivation of IA. Yeah, she's a cat here. XD
** - "Mount beauty" in Latin. Yupppp, Google Translate.
Updates here will be really slow. I think. I have a GakuLuka story begging me to publish it, and a MikuKai one as well, and I'm still handling BTAOET. I don't- I really don't- know where I'm going with this. Heck, I didn't even plan out the ending yet, nor the main plot of the story. I suppose it'll come clear to me a few chapters into the story. Read and review!
~Unyielding Wish
