Artificial Starlight
by Lachesis Fatali
This is a one-shot for X/1999 (property of the illustrious CLAMP), which is the only comic I have ever found that rivals my own twisted ideas and thoughts. It made me care about the characters, to the point where I almost cried when I watched them all die (I *never* cry at things like that). And of course the artwork was absolutely stunning. I have the utmost respect for it, which is why I want to make sure I do this story right. It's another take on one of my favorite characters, Arashi, and her relationship with Sorata... and why CLAMP had to be evil (not that I mind) and not allow them some solace in each other before their death. Now don't get me wrong, I'm probably the least romantic person on the planet. In fact, in the entire history of all the books/manga I've ever read, I only approve of three relationships. Well, this is one of the chosen triad. So enjoy my rare, dark romance.
************
The stars were no longer shining.
In a way, I was surprised. One thinks of nature as a constant in life, something to be relied upon and trusted not to change even when the world of humanity was in upheaval. Countless times throughout history, near the beginnings of war or the ends of empires, people retreated into the safety and continuity of nature, seeking solace in the ancient forests and starlight nights, without tainting human contact. It was supposed to be transcendent, something that did not depend on human nature to uphold it, something that could continue on forever, even when we are old and gone.
The stars were no longer shining.
In a way, I had expected it. There were mere hours between now and the final battle, in which the fate of the world would be decided. It was a human war, an ethical war of good and evil, light and dark. Perhaps the heavens were as disgusted with this eternal battle as I am, and they had retreated to find their own solace, just as I had retreated to find mine. There would never be an end to this destructive cycle, regardless of whom conquered. Light would return, dark would rise up again, and the battle would begin once more. A pointless war which would last forever.
But could I still believe in forever, when the stars were no longer there?
As a child I used to watch them, taking comfort in their light. The little sparkling spirits of the sky, something I could always depend upon to be there, something I knew would never leave me. Like my mother left me.
My mother was supposed to be forever. All parents are. They are supposed to be with you in times of need, support you when you wish to give up. They are there to make you soup on rainy days, to give you comfort when you fail. They watch you grow up, watch you marry, watch your children when you leave for a vacation with your husband. They are supposed to be with you forever and always.
Did I believe in forever?
Nothing lasts in this world. Everything fades, be it good, evil, light, dark. Time is not prejudice to power or beauty. It takes all with it, moving along it's predetermined path, erasing what we know and love from our memories. Forever is just an illusion, a fairytale, something that parents whisper to their children before they tuck them in at night, something that the stars in the sky were supposed to represent. Forever, the greatest fallacy of them all.
For I know, nothing lasts forever.
"Arashi?" A soft voice interrupted my solitude, bringing my wandering mind back from it's dark pondering. I don't need to turn to see who it is. I can tell by the very presence in the air, a sort of vibrant, childish benevolence, someone who enjoyed fairytales with happy endings, and took comfort in what they had.
Someone who believed in forever.
"What is it, Sorata," I ask him tiredly, not wishing to turn and see his face, to see the one who believed in all I wish I could believe in. I hear him sigh, then walk slowly towards me, the soft sound of his rustling clothes disturbing the silence and the solitude I have built here. Carefully, he leans against the solid strength of the tree, his feet supported in the fragile limb I sit on. An accurate comparison. All his power, all his strength, coming from such fragile beliefs such as hope, goodness, laughter...
And forever.
"Actually, I was going to ask you the same thing," he says, a hint of humor in his voice. But I can tell he is not in a laughing mood. Who would be, when they know they are going to die tomorrow? "You just up and left from dinner, without a giving me a goodnight kiss," he quips, glancing down. I can feel his eyes watching me. "But you looked... upset. Something wrong?"
"I am fine," I say, my voice not gentled. He is a fool, to ask me such a question. A fool, to believe in good. A fool, to give his life for me.
A fool, to love me.
"Come on, you normally at least have the decency to give me a passing blow before you leave," he persists good-naturedly. I know that if I grow truly angry at him, if I command him leave, he will go. Such is his way. But I don't. Instead, I turn slightly to look at him, resplendent even in the darkness. He is dressed simply, his standard black suit put away in favor a well-loved sweatshirt and a pair of faded jeans. His black hair is disheveled as usual, his sparkling hazel eyes still watching me with gentle humor He does not need to seek the light of stars for comfort, this strange creature. He creates his own light, giving it to those in need without thought, sharing his life and hope with as many others as he can reach. I wish he could reach me.
I wish I could let him reach me.
"I wanted to see the stars," I explain, my voice sounding small and ashamed, as if I am a child, about to be rebuked by an elder. Irrational, but I am not used to explaining my actions or motives to anyone. His mouth turns up into a smile, as he gazes out over the darkened horizon, taking in the entire expanse of creation before him in a few seconds.
"Not a good night for that, Ara-chan," he rebukes, using his pet name for me. It annoys me, but not because of the name itself. It is because he automatically assumes intimacy with it, without even questioning me for my permission. It annoys me, because I never correct him.
"I know. They're gone," I say softly, my voice weaker than I wish it to be, trembling softly in the darkness. I turn away from him, bowing my head, refusing to look for the comfort of the sky, or the comfort of his presence. I did not want him to know my fear. I did not want him to hear my own dark doubts. Weakness is not something I show easily.
"Does it bother you," he asks, voice not judging, not condemning. Merely wondering. Caring.
Fool.
"Why would it bother me," I question harshly, refusing to allow weakness to again enter my voice. "They are merely stars." It does not bother me that they are no longer there. That would be foolish. Just like believing in forever.
I can still feel his eyes softly on me, bright and certain in the darkness. Then suddenly, he grabs my hand and raises me to my feet, pulling me close to him so he can look directly into my eyes. I almost feel that if he looked hard enough, he would be able to see through me, see all the fears that were now assaulting me, see my contempt for the forever I had been promised. See my sorrow for him, my... I want to tell him. I want him to know. But instead, I remain impassive, eyebrows arched at him quizzically.
"Come on, tell me. What's wrong," he persists, his eyes imploring, voice firm and insistent.
"Why?" I ask, a simple question. He merely shakes his head, grinning at me with a playful, mischievous air.
"You tell me, and I'll tell you why I want to know," he teases, both his hands wrapped around one of mine. I note the surprising strength of his grip, a power not openly apparent on his boyish frame. I sigh. I don't want to stay here alone, taunted by the empty night sky, taunted by the hollow promise of forever. Normally, neither would I wish to be with someone right now, wanting the comfort of another person. But I am tired. Mortally tired, of everything I have done, everything that has sustained me this long. Like forever. He, to his credit, stays silent, allowing me to make my choice.
"I... miss the starlight," I say simply, my voice soft and hesitant, even to my own ears. "I'm used to them being there. They've been there forever." My voice wavers on the last word, and I quickly steady it, knowing that for one moment I have shown my true self to him.
Sorata looks at me piercingly for a few moments, and then gently pulls on my hand, turning me around to look at the opposite horizon. I usually shun the view of this other world, of the city full of it's noise, and violence, and terrors. It reminds me of a different type of forever, one my belief has not yet been swayed in. The forever of our foolishness, the forever we create by trapping ourselves in hatred and revenge, the forever that is mankind. But now, with him by my side, as I look out the city seems softened, a haze of the purity of light reflecting back up into the night sky. To my surprise, the dancing lights fill part of the emptiness where the stars used to be. Not starlight, not the purity of nature. But artificial starlight, a strange purity of mankind.
"There's stars here on earth too," Sora whispers to me, not taking his eyes off the horizon, an appreciative smile on his face. "The starlight we make, to fill the gap when they're not here."
"Artificial starlight," I say softly, gazing back out over the fairy-lit, softened scene. But then I realize why we would need artificial starlight, why we would seek comfort in something that we made. Because we do not believe in forever. The feeling sinks into me now. We all know there is no forever. We else would we try to replace the world with machines, with the harsh and bitter lights of our own design? Why else would people wish to end the world, why they would kill innocents in a battle that now serves almost no purpose? I am not surprised nature has forsaken us. We have finally grown, and we no longer believe in it's truths.
We no longer believe in forever.
To my shame, tears have started trailing down my cheeks silently, a steady, bitter rain. "We don't believe in forever," I choke out, before I can even stop myself. Sora looks down at me, his features marred by concern as he notices my tears.
"Forever?" he asks, reaching a hand up to brush away the tears. I turn away from him, breaking his hand's hold on mine, suddenly angry at this whole entire situation. Angry at the world that is now dying, angry at the memories that plague me even now, angry at the evil the beckons, threatens to take him away at every turn.
Angry at forever.
"Why do you think we make these things, Sorata," I demand of him, my voice so roughened that even I cannot recognize it. "Why do you think we keep searching for constants, things that will always be there." I glance over angrily at him, wanting him to say something, wanting him to stop me. Instead, he merely watches, gaze filled with some undefined emotion. So I continue. "It's because of forever. We want forever, we want to believe in forever." I pause, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as tears threaten to overtake me again. "But we know it's not real. That nothing lasts forever." I turn away from him, looking back into the empty sky. "Not even the stars."
After that I stay silent, ashamed at my petulant outburst, at my inflicting my trouble upon him. I have never needed anyone else, never needed to trust another person with how I felt. I wish he would leave now, and allow me to retain my last remnants of pride. But instead, I feel a smooth, childish hand slip under my chin, and lift my face back up, my hardened amber eyes meeting his still softened hazel ones. He does not smile, does not attempt to joke or refute my disbelief.
"I'll love you forever," he says simply, no taunting in his voice, no hint of the gentle teasing all his other declarations were voiced in. I shake my head, unwilling to accept it. He does not back down, does not let go of me, his hand smoothing the hair away from my face. "I will. I swear to you, I will love you forever."
"How can you say that," I growl at him, angry at my inability to stop him. "It's because of me that you're going to die."
"Dying has nothing to do with this," he refutes me softly. He looks at me, seemingly surprised I have not pushed him away, have not rebuked him for his impertinence. I can't bear to. His sincerity is boring into me, deeper than anything I have ever let reach me before. "Even if I die, I'll still love you. Forever knows no boundaries. It goes past time, past the world, past anything we comprehend. Which is probably why we can't believe in it." He bends down slightly, his face inches from mine, his starlit eyes looking into my own. "But even if you don't believe me, even if you don't accept it, I will love you. Forever."
"Nothing is forever," I whisper again, believing in my disbelief, taking comfort in my doubt. I don't want him to say this, I don't want him to love me. I don't want him to die.
I want him to be forever.
"Forever," he tells me gently, and suddenly his arms are wrapped around me, holding me as if he dares the world to try and touch me again, to try and taint me with it's doubts. Holding me as if he'll hold me forever, under the haze of artificial starlight from the city below us. I almost cry out in absolute shock at the strong embrace, whispering a silent prayer, asking to prove that this moment is indeed real, that his forever was a promise I can allow myself to believe. Almost in response, his arms tighten around me, and I am gently pressed into the warm circle of his body, and I look up and I see his face, pale but certain in the artificial light, his eyes too much for me to bear. Sorata Arisugawa, whom I hate and love and cannot disbelieve, is holding me against him. I can feel his heart, slow and gentle, beating through his shirt.
This cannot be real. This cannot be forever. Even though I can feel his warmth, his heart beating under my hands, it cannot be forever. For nothing is forever. I cannot believe in forever.
"Forever," he whispers again as if he can read my thoughts, and my eyes slip shut as I accept his words. I finally move into his embrace, wrapping my arms around him in turn, holding him tightly, my earlier doubts and inhibitions gone. For he has told me the truth. This is forever. He is forever.
And tomorrow, we will awake and fight for the fate of the world, die for our futile cause, and perhaps despite our efforts, the world as we know it will shatter. Or perhaps he will die protecting me from my fate, and I will survive, the world somehow sustained through our epic battle. I cannot even decide which would be worse.
Then I realize that it doesn't matter. This moment is real... and it will be forever.
************
HA! EAT THAT JOYCE, MISS "LACHESIS WOULDN'T KNOW WHAT ROMANCE WAS IF IT CAME UP AND BIT HER ON THE ASS!" PROVED YOU WRONG!
::Ahem:: Anyway. I hope everyone who reads this enjoys the story, seeing as I am just branching out into this genre, because people seem to worry about me if all I write are depressed, sad, morbid, and tragic stories. To all them, doesn't this prove I'm mentally sound? (chuckles maniacally)
by Lachesis Fatali
This is a one-shot for X/1999 (property of the illustrious CLAMP), which is the only comic I have ever found that rivals my own twisted ideas and thoughts. It made me care about the characters, to the point where I almost cried when I watched them all die (I *never* cry at things like that). And of course the artwork was absolutely stunning. I have the utmost respect for it, which is why I want to make sure I do this story right. It's another take on one of my favorite characters, Arashi, and her relationship with Sorata... and why CLAMP had to be evil (not that I mind) and not allow them some solace in each other before their death. Now don't get me wrong, I'm probably the least romantic person on the planet. In fact, in the entire history of all the books/manga I've ever read, I only approve of three relationships. Well, this is one of the chosen triad. So enjoy my rare, dark romance.
************
The stars were no longer shining.
In a way, I was surprised. One thinks of nature as a constant in life, something to be relied upon and trusted not to change even when the world of humanity was in upheaval. Countless times throughout history, near the beginnings of war or the ends of empires, people retreated into the safety and continuity of nature, seeking solace in the ancient forests and starlight nights, without tainting human contact. It was supposed to be transcendent, something that did not depend on human nature to uphold it, something that could continue on forever, even when we are old and gone.
The stars were no longer shining.
In a way, I had expected it. There were mere hours between now and the final battle, in which the fate of the world would be decided. It was a human war, an ethical war of good and evil, light and dark. Perhaps the heavens were as disgusted with this eternal battle as I am, and they had retreated to find their own solace, just as I had retreated to find mine. There would never be an end to this destructive cycle, regardless of whom conquered. Light would return, dark would rise up again, and the battle would begin once more. A pointless war which would last forever.
But could I still believe in forever, when the stars were no longer there?
As a child I used to watch them, taking comfort in their light. The little sparkling spirits of the sky, something I could always depend upon to be there, something I knew would never leave me. Like my mother left me.
My mother was supposed to be forever. All parents are. They are supposed to be with you in times of need, support you when you wish to give up. They are there to make you soup on rainy days, to give you comfort when you fail. They watch you grow up, watch you marry, watch your children when you leave for a vacation with your husband. They are supposed to be with you forever and always.
Did I believe in forever?
Nothing lasts in this world. Everything fades, be it good, evil, light, dark. Time is not prejudice to power or beauty. It takes all with it, moving along it's predetermined path, erasing what we know and love from our memories. Forever is just an illusion, a fairytale, something that parents whisper to their children before they tuck them in at night, something that the stars in the sky were supposed to represent. Forever, the greatest fallacy of them all.
For I know, nothing lasts forever.
"Arashi?" A soft voice interrupted my solitude, bringing my wandering mind back from it's dark pondering. I don't need to turn to see who it is. I can tell by the very presence in the air, a sort of vibrant, childish benevolence, someone who enjoyed fairytales with happy endings, and took comfort in what they had.
Someone who believed in forever.
"What is it, Sorata," I ask him tiredly, not wishing to turn and see his face, to see the one who believed in all I wish I could believe in. I hear him sigh, then walk slowly towards me, the soft sound of his rustling clothes disturbing the silence and the solitude I have built here. Carefully, he leans against the solid strength of the tree, his feet supported in the fragile limb I sit on. An accurate comparison. All his power, all his strength, coming from such fragile beliefs such as hope, goodness, laughter...
And forever.
"Actually, I was going to ask you the same thing," he says, a hint of humor in his voice. But I can tell he is not in a laughing mood. Who would be, when they know they are going to die tomorrow? "You just up and left from dinner, without a giving me a goodnight kiss," he quips, glancing down. I can feel his eyes watching me. "But you looked... upset. Something wrong?"
"I am fine," I say, my voice not gentled. He is a fool, to ask me such a question. A fool, to believe in good. A fool, to give his life for me.
A fool, to love me.
"Come on, you normally at least have the decency to give me a passing blow before you leave," he persists good-naturedly. I know that if I grow truly angry at him, if I command him leave, he will go. Such is his way. But I don't. Instead, I turn slightly to look at him, resplendent even in the darkness. He is dressed simply, his standard black suit put away in favor a well-loved sweatshirt and a pair of faded jeans. His black hair is disheveled as usual, his sparkling hazel eyes still watching me with gentle humor He does not need to seek the light of stars for comfort, this strange creature. He creates his own light, giving it to those in need without thought, sharing his life and hope with as many others as he can reach. I wish he could reach me.
I wish I could let him reach me.
"I wanted to see the stars," I explain, my voice sounding small and ashamed, as if I am a child, about to be rebuked by an elder. Irrational, but I am not used to explaining my actions or motives to anyone. His mouth turns up into a smile, as he gazes out over the darkened horizon, taking in the entire expanse of creation before him in a few seconds.
"Not a good night for that, Ara-chan," he rebukes, using his pet name for me. It annoys me, but not because of the name itself. It is because he automatically assumes intimacy with it, without even questioning me for my permission. It annoys me, because I never correct him.
"I know. They're gone," I say softly, my voice weaker than I wish it to be, trembling softly in the darkness. I turn away from him, bowing my head, refusing to look for the comfort of the sky, or the comfort of his presence. I did not want him to know my fear. I did not want him to hear my own dark doubts. Weakness is not something I show easily.
"Does it bother you," he asks, voice not judging, not condemning. Merely wondering. Caring.
Fool.
"Why would it bother me," I question harshly, refusing to allow weakness to again enter my voice. "They are merely stars." It does not bother me that they are no longer there. That would be foolish. Just like believing in forever.
I can still feel his eyes softly on me, bright and certain in the darkness. Then suddenly, he grabs my hand and raises me to my feet, pulling me close to him so he can look directly into my eyes. I almost feel that if he looked hard enough, he would be able to see through me, see all the fears that were now assaulting me, see my contempt for the forever I had been promised. See my sorrow for him, my... I want to tell him. I want him to know. But instead, I remain impassive, eyebrows arched at him quizzically.
"Come on, tell me. What's wrong," he persists, his eyes imploring, voice firm and insistent.
"Why?" I ask, a simple question. He merely shakes his head, grinning at me with a playful, mischievous air.
"You tell me, and I'll tell you why I want to know," he teases, both his hands wrapped around one of mine. I note the surprising strength of his grip, a power not openly apparent on his boyish frame. I sigh. I don't want to stay here alone, taunted by the empty night sky, taunted by the hollow promise of forever. Normally, neither would I wish to be with someone right now, wanting the comfort of another person. But I am tired. Mortally tired, of everything I have done, everything that has sustained me this long. Like forever. He, to his credit, stays silent, allowing me to make my choice.
"I... miss the starlight," I say simply, my voice soft and hesitant, even to my own ears. "I'm used to them being there. They've been there forever." My voice wavers on the last word, and I quickly steady it, knowing that for one moment I have shown my true self to him.
Sorata looks at me piercingly for a few moments, and then gently pulls on my hand, turning me around to look at the opposite horizon. I usually shun the view of this other world, of the city full of it's noise, and violence, and terrors. It reminds me of a different type of forever, one my belief has not yet been swayed in. The forever of our foolishness, the forever we create by trapping ourselves in hatred and revenge, the forever that is mankind. But now, with him by my side, as I look out the city seems softened, a haze of the purity of light reflecting back up into the night sky. To my surprise, the dancing lights fill part of the emptiness where the stars used to be. Not starlight, not the purity of nature. But artificial starlight, a strange purity of mankind.
"There's stars here on earth too," Sora whispers to me, not taking his eyes off the horizon, an appreciative smile on his face. "The starlight we make, to fill the gap when they're not here."
"Artificial starlight," I say softly, gazing back out over the fairy-lit, softened scene. But then I realize why we would need artificial starlight, why we would seek comfort in something that we made. Because we do not believe in forever. The feeling sinks into me now. We all know there is no forever. We else would we try to replace the world with machines, with the harsh and bitter lights of our own design? Why else would people wish to end the world, why they would kill innocents in a battle that now serves almost no purpose? I am not surprised nature has forsaken us. We have finally grown, and we no longer believe in it's truths.
We no longer believe in forever.
To my shame, tears have started trailing down my cheeks silently, a steady, bitter rain. "We don't believe in forever," I choke out, before I can even stop myself. Sora looks down at me, his features marred by concern as he notices my tears.
"Forever?" he asks, reaching a hand up to brush away the tears. I turn away from him, breaking his hand's hold on mine, suddenly angry at this whole entire situation. Angry at the world that is now dying, angry at the memories that plague me even now, angry at the evil the beckons, threatens to take him away at every turn.
Angry at forever.
"Why do you think we make these things, Sorata," I demand of him, my voice so roughened that even I cannot recognize it. "Why do you think we keep searching for constants, things that will always be there." I glance over angrily at him, wanting him to say something, wanting him to stop me. Instead, he merely watches, gaze filled with some undefined emotion. So I continue. "It's because of forever. We want forever, we want to believe in forever." I pause, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as tears threaten to overtake me again. "But we know it's not real. That nothing lasts forever." I turn away from him, looking back into the empty sky. "Not even the stars."
After that I stay silent, ashamed at my petulant outburst, at my inflicting my trouble upon him. I have never needed anyone else, never needed to trust another person with how I felt. I wish he would leave now, and allow me to retain my last remnants of pride. But instead, I feel a smooth, childish hand slip under my chin, and lift my face back up, my hardened amber eyes meeting his still softened hazel ones. He does not smile, does not attempt to joke or refute my disbelief.
"I'll love you forever," he says simply, no taunting in his voice, no hint of the gentle teasing all his other declarations were voiced in. I shake my head, unwilling to accept it. He does not back down, does not let go of me, his hand smoothing the hair away from my face. "I will. I swear to you, I will love you forever."
"How can you say that," I growl at him, angry at my inability to stop him. "It's because of me that you're going to die."
"Dying has nothing to do with this," he refutes me softly. He looks at me, seemingly surprised I have not pushed him away, have not rebuked him for his impertinence. I can't bear to. His sincerity is boring into me, deeper than anything I have ever let reach me before. "Even if I die, I'll still love you. Forever knows no boundaries. It goes past time, past the world, past anything we comprehend. Which is probably why we can't believe in it." He bends down slightly, his face inches from mine, his starlit eyes looking into my own. "But even if you don't believe me, even if you don't accept it, I will love you. Forever."
"Nothing is forever," I whisper again, believing in my disbelief, taking comfort in my doubt. I don't want him to say this, I don't want him to love me. I don't want him to die.
I want him to be forever.
"Forever," he tells me gently, and suddenly his arms are wrapped around me, holding me as if he dares the world to try and touch me again, to try and taint me with it's doubts. Holding me as if he'll hold me forever, under the haze of artificial starlight from the city below us. I almost cry out in absolute shock at the strong embrace, whispering a silent prayer, asking to prove that this moment is indeed real, that his forever was a promise I can allow myself to believe. Almost in response, his arms tighten around me, and I am gently pressed into the warm circle of his body, and I look up and I see his face, pale but certain in the artificial light, his eyes too much for me to bear. Sorata Arisugawa, whom I hate and love and cannot disbelieve, is holding me against him. I can feel his heart, slow and gentle, beating through his shirt.
This cannot be real. This cannot be forever. Even though I can feel his warmth, his heart beating under my hands, it cannot be forever. For nothing is forever. I cannot believe in forever.
"Forever," he whispers again as if he can read my thoughts, and my eyes slip shut as I accept his words. I finally move into his embrace, wrapping my arms around him in turn, holding him tightly, my earlier doubts and inhibitions gone. For he has told me the truth. This is forever. He is forever.
And tomorrow, we will awake and fight for the fate of the world, die for our futile cause, and perhaps despite our efforts, the world as we know it will shatter. Or perhaps he will die protecting me from my fate, and I will survive, the world somehow sustained through our epic battle. I cannot even decide which would be worse.
Then I realize that it doesn't matter. This moment is real... and it will be forever.
************
HA! EAT THAT JOYCE, MISS "LACHESIS WOULDN'T KNOW WHAT ROMANCE WAS IF IT CAME UP AND BIT HER ON THE ASS!" PROVED YOU WRONG!
::Ahem:: Anyway. I hope everyone who reads this enjoys the story, seeing as I am just branching out into this genre, because people seem to worry about me if all I write are depressed, sad, morbid, and tragic stories. To all them, doesn't this prove I'm mentally sound? (chuckles maniacally)