Disclaimer: I don't own them, so don't sue. SPOILERS for endings of Shadow Hearts and Shadow Hearts II/Covenant.
Wales. Why is it always so red in the sky around here, thought Yuri as he once more climbed the hill to the ruinous Nemeton Monastery. They had returned from London and, before they could even climb the stairs to Roger Bacon's strange home, Zhuzhen, the elder sage, had hared off up the hill toward the ruins. Disgusted, Yuri followed, thinking he should let the old man find some monster and get eaten. But with Alice beside him he couldn't find it in himself to be that mean. So they climbed the hill once more and Zhuzhen then pointed at the old gravestone at the cliff edge. Battered, rough and ruined, the old Celtic cross seemed out of place there, and Zhuzhen headed straight for it.
"What is it, Master?" Alice asked.
"I just want to check this grave again. It's been bothering me since we were here before. Don't worry," he said turning and waving them off. "I'm not up to any tricks. You two just go and... heheh kill some time somewhere," and he turned back to the grave.
Yuri shook his head, one hand on is hip the other pointing at Zhuzhen.
"As usual, your curiosity is way out of control, pops," he said and then sighed. "Well, anyway," he pointed then to the ruins. "Let's hang in there; we should be safe."
Yuri followed Alice into the ruins, one amber eye on the dangers of the place and one watching the gentle swish of her ruffled skirt. He felt the smirk forming on his lips and had to turn away as Alice stopped and faced him. Her ice blue eyes caught him and held him tightly and - was that a look of anticipation? He hoped he could say what he wanted to say before he got tongue-tied again. All the way through Europe to France, in Rouen when Alice had disappeared and Yuri had felt a rising panic grip him, he'd wanted to say something to her. But each time he tried, each time he opened his mouth to speak, something stopped him. Margarete, with her knowing glances and laughter, Keith calmly watching him as if his life were a stage play for his own amusement, Halley with his incessant boyish antics, and now Zhuzhen and his haring after stupid curiosities, all conspiring against him.
God just give me five minutes, he thought and turned to look at Alice. Seeing her almost took his breath away again, but he coughed, clearing his throat.
"Even so," he began, "it's kinda unreal. I mean to have your destiny turn out like this." Well, that was lame.
Alice shook her head and one tendril of silver slid free of her blue bow, sliding down to caress her neck. Yuri watched it in fascination as the breeze lifted it, revealing the delicate curve of her neck before fluttering and lying down, covering it up again. He wished for a moment that he were close enough to touch that neck, to lift that soft hair from her and kiss...
What the hell am I thinking?
"We've come such a long way, haven't we Yuri?" Alice said from her side of the clearing. They had stopped just inside the old retaining wall in what must, at one time, have been the inner grounds. Just beyond was the hulking ruin of the old church and to his right, Patrick's mansion. Roger had pointed it out before, telling them briefly of the events fifteen years ago when Koudelka had come and the monastery burnt to the ground.
"Yuri..." Yuri was biting his lower lip, staring off into the distance and Alice's voice brought him back. "Yuri, do you regret it? Coming this far, I mean?"
"What? Regret... shit no! What're you talking about? No way!" he looked at Alice now, focusing on her delicate form, her slim body and waist and the gentle curve of her bosom. "How could I regret any of this?" Nerves suddenly fired along his skin as he looked up at the young exorcist. Galvanized, he paced across the clearing, kicking at loose rocks as he did so, hearing them ping against the far pillars of the mansion.
"You know, until I met you," he continued, "I was living the life of a loser. I had no family, no purpose, no idea if I'd live or die today and, frankly, I didn't care. But now I'm confident about what I'm doing. I know that I'm needed. My power of fusion, which I thought was so terrible, is what allows me to protect you." He stopped suddenly and rubbed the back of his neck, turning to face Alice who had watched his nervous perambulations with amusement. Catching sight of her watching him Yuri felt blood suddenly rush to his cheeks, turning them ruddy. "Sometimes," he said and found his throat suddenly tight. He coughed once more. "Sometimes I think such stupid things like… boy, is this happiness?" he laughed a short nervous laugh and looked down at the ground, feeling the blood pounding in his cheeks. "I sound stupid," he muttered at last.
Alice shook her head again, wanting to reach out and touch him, take his hand or his elbow and hold him, to reassure him that no, he wasn't being stupid. But watching him, seeing his nervousness, she knew if she tried they both might do something stupid.
"Yuri…"
"Alice," the young fusionist looked up suddenly and took a step closer, as if hearing her desire to draw near. "I don't know how this battle is going to turn out but…" he paused, feeling an unaccustomed tightness growing in his chest and he hoped it was just nerves. "The day you die…" his voice cracked on the last word and he felt a frisson arc up his spine. No, no! I won't let you die! "The day you die, I'll die too," he managed to finish.
Alice looked startled and clutched her hands before her breast. What is he saying?
"The night of the storm, back when I was a kid and I couldn't protect my mother from the monsters, somehow I survived, thanks to my power. Ever since then, I cursed my own existence. I asked myself, why do I have to be all alone? What could I have done differently that night? Why didn't I die..."
"Yuri," Alice could feel the waves of remorseful memory sweeping over Yuri and her heart reached out for him. Doesn't he know how much I care for him? she wondered. She watched him as he grappled with the past, with words to express his thoughts and feelings; he had moved back into the shadows by the old mansion, stooping to pick up a rock and lob it into the burnt out manse.
"Yeah, that night was the beginning of everything." Standing near the ruins, Yuri looked up at the burnished sky and remembered.
I had promised my father that I would look after mom while he was gone. He was always leaving on trips for his work and he'd be gone for months at a time. It was hard on both of us, but harder on mom. She'd get so mad at him and grumble about how he cared more for his job than her. I knew she was upset and when dad would come home they'd fight. But then they'd make up and everything was fine. So when he left that last time, I knew mom would get pissed again, but I was the man of the house now and would take care of her. That is, until the monsters came.
It was late and dad hadn't returned. He usually came back just as spring broke but this year – this year he didn't. Mom was worried but she pretended nothing was wrong. And then the big storm hit. Out of the north, a frigid wind began to blow and soon rain was pelting down like mad, day after day of hard, heavy rain and the roads became quagmires of mud. In the village, everybody stayed indoors, small fitful tendrils of smoke rising from their chimneys... and I was bored. I couldn't visit Lihua or Maki and I was tired of lessons.
I remember telling mom I wanted a baby brother or sister, like Lihua's parents had done. I remember how mom laughed when I suggested it; the laugh wasn't a happy one – I can see that now – but she went along with my silly idea. And then something caught her eye. Figures moving out in the rain, hulking shadows shuffling through the mud of the roadway and coming into our yard. I couldn't make them out but mother suddenly got concerned and, when I made to open the door, she called me back. But it was too late. They kicked in the door and entered our small home, four of them, slogging wet and stinking of putrescence. I recognized Lihua's dad and Maki's uncle and I suddenly got very scared.
I turned away from them, running back to mom, hiding in her skirts – such a brave man I was hahaha – Maki's uncle said something about food, his words garbled from the bits of rotting flesh hanging from his lips. Was that his face? Or had he... eaten someone? Lihua's dad came closer, a sick, gurgling cackle coming from his blackened lips and he mentioned some kind of sage... the Earth Sage... sending them to eat us. Had they already eaten their own families?
Terror gripped me but the zombies shuffled forward and mom pulled me back, shielding me with her own body. But the monsters struck her down! With one blow they killed my mother, and the next one was for me! Maki's uncle raised his arm to strike and all hell broke loose.
"That day, my mother gave her life to protect me," he said to Alice, returning to the small clearing. "Her shattered body lay at my feet, the light in her eyes fading, and in that moment my power ignited in me. The blood of my father, which had been laying dormant, suddenly burned in me; my emotions exploding like a hurricane." He frowned, staring down at the ground again, one boot scraping lines in the dirt. "I don't really remember anything after that. I think I was insane. But next thing I knew, the room was littered with the torn-up body parts of the monsters that had killed my mother. I was the only one left alive in the house and covered with blood. I clung to my mother's cold corpse all night, weeping and begging her to forgive me for breaking my promise to my father, for failing to protect her.
"I could never stand to feel that way again, Alice, so..." He looked up at her, his eyes taking in the sum total of her and she could feel the weight of his eyes drinking her in. From the loose tendrils of silver hair, the blue ribbon, the frayed blue coat and the once-crisp now limp lace of her skirts, all the way down past the less-than-white stockings to her scuffed boots, he took her in and committed her to memory. This is the woman I love, he thought. I won't let anything happen to her. "...the day that I fail to protect you, is the day that I too will die!" There! He'd said it, with all the intensity of his feelings for her. Let Simon beware! Let enemies and monsters be warned! I'll kill the first son-of-a-bitch that tries to touch her!
Yuri and his party fought their way through the monstrosity of Neam, a living beacon to an elder god, for several hours. Tired, fatigue etched on every face, weariness in every eye, they rested at the top of the third floor of this confusing maze. The last hours they had spent criss-crossing back and forth through what Zhuzhen, the elder Taoist sage had called, a transfer maze.
Fancy words for an annoyance, Yuri had muttered more than once and, after about the sixth time, they all ignored him. But finally they took a rest, Zhuzhen propping himself up against a nearby wall strut and falling fast asleep, Halley next to him, and Alice... Yuri was worried over Alice. The last few battles had been hard-fought and Alice seemed on the verge of collapse. She was having trouble breathing and Margarete was helping her, but Yuri felt that something else was going on here. Why is she sick alla sudden? Is it something she ate back at Roger's place? He's not the best cook he remembered and chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. He reached into his coat pocket and rummaged through a packet of leaves before kneeling at her side, offering her the small phial of extract.
"Here, Alice. Take this. It should help." Alice dutifully took the bottle and sipped the contents, never looking at him and Yuri felt the sun slowly fading, the bright, shining light that was Alice, growing dim. Why is she avoiding me? He watched as she put the stopper back into the phial and pocketed the rest, nodding slowly.
"Thank you Yuri, that helped," she said, but her voice was soft, almost weak, and he knew in his gut that she was lying.
"Why don't you rest for a bit, let Margarete or Keith do the work? It's not like they've been pulling their own weight lately." He said the last softly, and with a touch of humor. Alice merely nodded again and lay down on the cold metal floor, closing her eyes. Frowning, Yuri rose and, looking around, spotted Margarete a few feet away, ostensibly on lookout, but he caught her glance back in his direction and joined her.
"Maggs, what the hell is going on with Alice? I know she spoke to you last time. What is happening? Is she sick... what?" He was standing inches from the spy and towering over her like a vulture. Margarete Zelle looked up at the fusionist and shrugged.
"How should I know? I just helped her that's all," the spy said and turned away, pushing past him to move further down the dark corridor. Yuri watched her, fists clenched at his side, a scowl growing on his face and bile filling his stomach.
"Don't lie to me," he growled. "You know something. Tell me what it is, damnit!"
Margarete set her shotgun aside, taking out her pistol instead and checking the rounds in the chamber.
"I don't know what you're talking about, kiddo. If you have a question about Alice, don't you think you should ask her?" She finished and checked the aim of the gun, sighting along it toward Yuri. She could see the tenseness in him and part of her wanted to slap him silly for not seeing what was right in front of him - that Alice was dying. What the hell is his problem? she thought. Why can't he just wake up?
Yuri glared at the spy for a minute before turning his back on her.
"Fine then," he ground out and stomped back to the main group and taking a place by the sleeping Alice. Nobody's talking sense, he thought. Don't they understand how important this is? I mean, when it's over we can make plans, fix the messes we made along the way, or not. But right now we gotta concentrate on finishing this. He looked down at Alice, her head cradled on one bent arm, the other turned inward, palm up and fingers curled. Watching her breathe, counting her breaths, he felt himself calming, felt a warmth in his chest that he only associated with her. She's so beautiful. If that damned voice hadn't sent me to protect her... I never would have met her. I might have gone on bein' a bum fer the rest of my life, or until I died like a dog somewhere. Silently he reached out and took her gloved hand in his, feeling the delicate bones beneath their covering of leather and flesh. She's like fine china, he thought. Yet she's strong. She'll get through this and then... then we'll figure out what we gotta do.
Later they all rose, stretching sore muscles and checking supplies. Ahead lay more trouble and Albert Simon. Yuri helped Alice to her feet, noting her slow, painful movements, and wishing once again she'd speak up, tell him what was wrong. But when he looked at her with the question in his eyes, she shook her head.
"I'm fine, Yuri," she said to his voiceless question and she checked her pockets and picked up her metal-bound book. Please God, let me be fine, she thought. Let me make it through this and see the daylight. Let me have just a little more time with Yuri.
"Al-all right," Yuri said and looked up the dark metal corridor. "It's just a little further. Whether we win and go home, or lose and... and turn to nothing," he paused and looked at Alice a moment, "I'll always be with you."
Alice nodded. "Yes."
"Okay! Let's do this. The final battle. We will make it back alive!" he said. Strength was in his voice, strength and determination, and just a little of that familiar recklessness that had led him across Asia all the way to Europe and now, to the ends of the Earth.
Yellow sunlight, slanting to golden orange, blossomed in the window and settled on the chest of the young man sleeping in the seat. Next to him, the young lady slept soundly. The steady clack-clack of the tracks and the gentle shake of the car had combined with fatigue and the two had fallen asleep. Earlier, before boarding the train for Zurich, the young man had proposed marriage, had in fact, consummated his love of this sprightly woman with kisses and so much more. With his body pressed close to her beneath the summer sheets of the hotel room, Yuri had looked down into her delft blue eyes and grinned wickedly.
"I got you now, Alice. I've staked my claim and be damned if'n yer mom says nay to any of it," he said and was wise enough to block the raised knee of protest.
"Yuri Hyuga, don't think that just because I let you have your way with me that I'll tolerate such talk," Alice said, the eyes of ice flaring brilliant blue. Oh ho, he laughed silently, she has a temper.
"Maybe I should make love to you again, seein' as you've got so much energy to burn," but the laughter bubbled out and ruined the threat. The ice blue eyes stared hard at him and Yuri relented, rolling over to reach into the bedside table. "I got you something, Alice," he said as he pulled a paper bag from the drawer.
Alice scooted away, rolling onto her side, cradling her head on her arm and watched as her lover pulled the bag free and moved closer, a decidedly happy look on his face that had nothing to do with sex.
"What is it?"
"Well, I got it in London," he explained. "I saw it in a window and I had enough once I sold some of my extra shit," he said and ripped open the crumpled bag. It had once been white with gold paint on the trim and lettering but now it was so wrinkled that Alice couldn't make it out. But the little box he pulled from the wrapping was definitely something she knew. A jeweler's box, black and velvety and Alice felt her heart suddenly beating hard in her chest.
He didn't, she thought and then watched as Yuri tossed aside the crumpled paper and opened the box. He looked at the contents a moment, the lid blocking Alice's view, then turned it toward her.
"You like?" he asked.
Nestled in the box was a tiny ring, gold banded and sparkling. Alice looked closely at it, the glint of the jewel catching in the lamplight and smiled.
"It's beautiful, Yuri," she said softly. "Will, will you put it on?" and she offered up her fingers. Yuri's grin broadened as he fumbled with the box, taking out the ring and placing it on her finger.
"You're all mine now, Alice. With this ring, I marry ya," he said and chuckled, pulling her close and trapping her against the pillow. "Let's wake up the neighbors, shall we?" he said, nibbling on her neck.
"I think they already heard us, Yuri. You make a lot of noise," she said giggling.
"Yeah but who was doin' the screaming?"
Screaming. Someone was screaming. Yuri looked up and caught the look of horror on the young woman's face as she stared down at him, stared down at Alice. Alice. She wasn't breathing. She wasn't living. She was dead. In his arms, she was dead.
"Shut up, bitch!" The anger suddenly exploded and he rose, threatening the woman with his fist even as Alice slid lifeless to the floor. The woman fled, her peals of alarm raising heads behind her. "God damn it," Yuri muttered and, pulling Alice up into his arms, he fled up the aisle to the next cabin. Their next stop was minutes away, if he could keep the authorities from catching him...
In the gangway, Yuri stood against the railcar wall facing the coupling and holding Alice tightly. He tried not to think, not to feel the tightness in his chest, his heart beating rapidly and his mind a flitter of images. Alice, bringing him to his senses; those four masks laughing derisively; Alice collapsing in the darkness of the Float, saying she was fine, how she was just tired.
"Like fucking hell," he said softly. "Like fucking hell..." He screwed his eyes tightly, trying to hold back the tears but could not, their hot wetness flowing down his cheeks to drip onto the bundle in his arms.
The last time they rode a train together had been in England, taking the long ride to and from Wales. It had rained then and Yuri was frustrated with nothing to do. Alice had sat across from him, her book open in her hands but her eyes looking out at the landscape, the heavy clouds obscuring most everything and a heavy rain pummeling down on the windows, smearing what light there was. He had tried to distract her with silly jokes, and Alice, being who she was, had laughed. But looking back at it, he knew she was worried about something. He thought he knew what it was, and that was something they would deal with when Simon was taken care of.
But it wasn't something I could put off, he thought as his fingers, frozen and bleeding, dug into the mud and shale of the mountainside, pulling out rocks and bits of debris. Lightning crashed overhead followed quickly by the deep rumble of Alps thunder and the rain came down in cold, hard, heavy sheets. Yuri had never seen rain like this before and could have done without it now, except it made digging the grave that much easier. Mud and muck stuck to his fingers, his nails long since torn off, the blood mixing with the cold, wet dirt and the tears that still blurred his eyes. When will the tears stop? Will they ever stop?
Behind him, standing beneath the lone ancient oak, the old man Gepetto waited, his coat streaked with wet - Alice's uncle from Paris. How had he found him? Yuri could not recall now; only knowing he'd gotten back to Paris on a freight train and stumbling in the dark had ended up at Gepetto's apartment, the torn slip of paper with the address written in Alice's neat handwriting in one hand and her cold corpse in the other. The old man had been grief-stricken but had offered up a warm, dry blanket for the night while he made arrangements for the morning. Yuri told him he wanted to take Alice home, he just didn't know where that was. But now, standing in the hole he was digging, his clothes soaked through with rain and mud, Yuri knew that home was something neither of them would see.
Gepetto had gone to see Alice's mother while Yuri fretted elsewhere. Finally, numb and ignoring everyone else, Yuri had taken Alice, wrapped in his old brown trench coat, up into the mountains. He stopped midway up the alp at a green meadow, one lone oak standing majestic in the afternoon light. Here, he thought. Here he would lay her to rest, amidst the nature she loved and the sky so wide and clear above her. With his bare hands he began to pull at grass and soil, digging down into the earth. Above him, clouds began to gather, scudding first as white messengers, then grey harbingers before the black weight of cold rain pelted down. Gepetto had found him, up to his elbows in the cold, wet mud and stood silent sentinel, his dark glasses hiding both his eyes and his censure. But Yuri said nothing to him, ignoring the old man, his quiet grief and his presence, concentrating only on the digging and his own mindless grief.
Lightning flashed overhead, followed by heavy rolling thunder as the rain turned into a downpour, and Yuri patted the heavy mud, tamping it carefully to seal the grave. He didn't have a stone, but if it cost him his last coin, he would return with one. It gave him purpose now, something to do. He looked through rain draggled lashes at the old man, his cane sunken into the mud, and sighed heavily.
"I guess we should go now," he said and without waiting, turned toward the path back down the mountain, the old man walking slowly behind.
What do I do now? he wondered. Where do I go? Why am I even still here? I promised her… he thought back to that day in the ruins of Nemeton and shuddered with more than cold. I promised her I would die too. Was that an empty promise? Why the fuck am I still here?
A week went by, or maybe a month. Yuri didn't know or care. He had bought his gravestone and carved it himself, hauling it back up the mountainside to place it at Alice's grave. The words he carved were the words he felt inside. The words surprised him, but they were true.
Be at Peace, Alice Elliot! This I swear, your soul will have my lifelong love. Yours, Yuri.
Blinking back hot tears, he stood above the grave, his heart hurting, his guts twisting with the understanding that he was here, alive, because of her; because of her sacrifice and his stupidity. Reaching up, he removed the old cross from around his neck where it had nestled warmly against his amulet. He looked down at the little silver cross, ornate and warm in his cold hands. His father's cross; his mother's cross too. He had never thought to find a memento of both his mother and father in Shanghai and he had given this little cross to Alice. It was fitting she have it still, he thought, as he placed it atop the gravestone. The silver chimed as it hit the stone, making little tink-tink sounds as it scraped softly against the hard marker. This was not how it was supposed to be, he thought. He had promised to protect her; promised both Koudelka and Alice herself and, damn it, he promised himself too. Just like mom, I failed to protect you. I failed because I was stupid. Can you ever forgive me?"Can you ever forgive me?" he asked and he was humbled at the look of warmth and welcome that greeted him. He was here, on the train to Zurich and it was a warm fall afternoon and there, seated by the window, was Alice. She turned from staring out the glass and looked up at him, puzzled delight in her blue delft eyes.
"Of course," she said brightly and patted the seat next to her. "Won't you sit?"
Battling confusion and embarrassment, Yuri slid into the seat next to her, his knee brushing hers as he sat down.
"Uh, thanks," he said softly and brushed his shaggy hair back. "I didn't know you'd be here."
Alice's smile grew warmer and her eyes wrinkled in suppressed giggles.
"Where else would I be?" she asked.
Yuri looked down at her from his seat and felt her warmth as she leaned closer, placing her head on his shoulder. Her breath tickled him and he felt his insides clenching in pain. She was here, now, with him. But where is this?
"Did you have a hard time finding me?" she asked him, not looking at him but letting one hand wander close to his knee, then resting on it ever so gently.
"Ah, um, no, not really," he stammered and felt his world tilting, the soft touch of her delicate fingers sending shivers up and down his body. He wanted her. He wanted to make love to her, to hold her in his arms, to seal his love for her with kisses and other things, but...
"This isn't right," he said quietly, his own gloved hand reaching down to cover her's. "We're not really here, are we?" he asked and looked up to see her bright blue eyes catch his question and open in surprise.
"Of course we're here," she said. "We fought Albert, and defeated his alien god, and now, we're here, on our way to Zurich. To be together. Like we planned."
"But we didn't plan on..." he paused, his own words choking in his mouth... we didn't plan on you dying in my arms. We didn't plan on you getting killed by those fucking... He felt his world lurch, dizziness making his world spin and he felt the air escaping his lungs as he hit the cold ground with a resounding thud.
"What the fuck?" He climbed slowly to his feet and looked around. The light was dim, a pale miasma of purple and deep indigo swirling in misty clouds beyond an iron gate. To his left and right were the grave mounds and he knew this was his own private hell. "The graveyard," he said and felt his jaw clenching. Ahead lay the verge with the Dark gravestone and next to it, dim and gray, the little marker with Alice's name on it.
"I didn't know it was really going to be you," he said. "I know they told me, but I thought we had time." He crossed the stone path and climbed the verge, kneeling at the tiny stone. He brushed it with gloved fingers, feeling the chill from the lifeless stone even through the leather. "I shoulda killed those bastards when I had the chance," he said quietly.
Beyond him, floating before the mausoleum door, the four masks snickered. He heard their waspish cackling and felt fire running along his nerves. Those bastards! he thought. They can float there, laughing at me, as if nothing had happened. Those fucking bastards!
Rising, he leapt from the small grave mound to the pathway and, with three long strides, reached the stairs leading to the mausoleum. These too he jumped past and came skidding to a halt before the huge doors and the four floating masks. The Grail mask to his right spun around on its axis and giggled, its fish face gauping like a flounder.
"You're back, boy..." the Gold mask hissed, its horns glistening in the dim light. "You're not needed or wanted here."
"Ack kaak kaaaak," giggled the Staff shaped mask above him. "It is far too late... too late..." All four masks began cackling again and Yuri launched himself at them his fists flying as he punched the first mask sending it crashing into the one behind it and spinning around crazily.
"Fuck you! Fuck you bastards!" he screamed and lost himself to unreasoning pain for a few minutes, hitting anything in the way before finally collapsing against the mausoleum doors, panting. Behind him, floating damaged but still alive, the four masks tisked at him.
"Ungrateful wretch," the Staff mask hissed at him.
"You should be thankful to that girl," the Grail mask added. "For she took upon herself the burden you refused to bear."
"Fuck you," Yuri muttered, wiping sweat from his face with one sleeve and looking up at the four bobbing masks with slitted eyes. "You had no right to take her... no right."
"She gave herself willingly," the Sword mask stated emphatically and it shifted closer, hovering over Yuri in the alcove of the mausoleum. "It was you who failed, boy. Did we not tell you we would come for her, even should she be in your arms?" The mask hovered a moment longer before moving away, leaving Yuri to look down at his torn leather gloves and the trickle of blood seeping from the rent material.
"She didn't have to do it," he muttered and climbed slowly to his feet, watching from the corner of his eyes as the four masks moved away from him, floating just out of reach. I can't get you now, he thought. But I'll find a way. And when I do...
He took the stairs, stumbling onto the path, casting a brief glance to his left and the open gates. Beyond was his past, his inner hopes and, he thought, his future.
Somehow I'll fix things. I don't know how. I don't know where. But I owe it to her, he thought and he looked at the tiny white tombstone again. I promise.
They stood on the hill looking down on the forest and the small village beyond. A church spire rose above the trees and the sound of bird calls and rustling animals in the woods filled the air. Gepetto hefted the bag with his marionette Cornelia and looked around.
"You sure you want to come here? It's so out of the way," the old man said.
"Yeah. It'll be fine. This place... it's in the middle of a war zone. They need protecting. I'll protect them." Yuri stood, fists on hips, and looked over the woods, his amber eyes catching the glint of metal in the woods. "Looks like we've already got company. You better stay here."
"Look Yuri, you don't have to do this. This isn't your town," and the old man reached out to grab a handful of Yuri's jacket. "Nothing you do will change that."
Yuri shook him loose.
"I know. But I'll protect this place."
Gepetto shook his head.
"You're being a fool, Yuri."
The younger man turned and looked down at the aged Frenchman.
"I don't expect you to understand, old man," he said, "but this is what I have to do. I owe it to..." he paused and felt a pang of regret lodge itself in his chest. "I owe it her." My life isn't my own anyway. This life was given to me by her...
The autumn night was chilly but clear and the stars twinkled like diamonds in the indigo sky. He had arrived early in the evening, crossing the nearby fields with all the speed he could muster before finally crashing to the ground on the hill overlooking the train station at Jilin. Tired, hungry and cross, he rolled over and shut his eyes, throwing one arm over his face to shut out the waning light, and fell asleep. Behind his eyelids dreams flitted, crazy quilt images from his past: his mom and dad, his home on the farm in Mulan, a train station in some foreign town…
I know why you stayed there alone…
Voices whispered like insect wings in his sleep, not the painful voice of his goad, but something softer, more delightful to his mental ears yet, elusive.
You were afraid to lose yourself… your soul… your memories…
With a snort he rolled over face down in the dirt, tucking one arm beneath his head, his cheek resting on the coarse material of his coat while his face was screwed up in dreams. The grey miasma of his nightmare world washed over him, the horror of that graveyard again, and the haunting voices that sang their songs of dementia. And, the cackling laughter of something… he never knew quite what, as he made his way through the dark and foreboding place of his worst nightmares.
Sweat broke out on his forehead and a tiny droplet made its way down past his brows to teeter on the edge before rolling down onto his eyelid and settling like dew on his lashes. Inside his lids, the scenes of the graveyard played out again, and he rose to stand, hands on hips, surveying the strange, cloying atmosphere. He knew this place, knew this dream – he'd had it a hundred times before and always woke up screaming. Part of him huffed at his own weakness while a niggling voice inside him said 'Hey, no big deal; I've got it covered.'
I hate this place. It's full of fear and loathing and… fear. The thought tickled him and he brushed it aside before stepping further into the dreadful place.
The times you spent with your friends, the feelings … the promises you made, all that is what made you into the man you are today.
He looked around at the gravestones, his eyes following the swath of verge, taking in the dark stone faces, moving back to scan the area ahead as he walked, following the path leading to a locked and darkened gate while the other pathway lead to…
"You bastards. I know you!" he stopped mid-stride at the split in the path and glowered at four masks floating in the cloying air of the graveyard. "Yeah, I know you. I'll kick yer fuckin' asses!"
Four masks floated before a great metal-banded door, their visages a recurring horror within his nightmares. A cup. A staff. A bull. And a shield with swords. Each one cackling and clicking and chattering and Yuri's fists clenched as he climbed the steps to the mausoleum doors.
"So you're still here, fuckin' with me," he said. "I won't let you this time," he said and raised a fist at them.
"Detestable child," the mask with the swords hissed at him from above, "you have no business here."
"The hell you say."
Beside him the staff mask flitted close, its jaws wagging in a silent laugh and when it spoke, it its voice was thin and waspish. "Your time will come soon enough, harmonixer brat."
Yuri climbed the last stair to stand face-to face with the golden bull, his fists clenched and his teeth grinding. He felt torn between desire to smash these smirking faces into dust and running back to reality his tail between his legs. He felt the cold tingle of fear tickling him, but there was more here than he understood. But he knew these smirking faces, knew them and hated them.
Yes, the man that I love.
The golden bull mask hovered silently before him, its miasmic presence washing over him in sick fumes and Yuri felt the cold chill of the place seeping into him, clutching at his guts. The mask remained silent, watching him, its mere presence a goad to some feeling he could not identify – it's more than me bein' pissed at these guys, but what is it? And why do I care?
To his right the sword mask moved closer, the sound of rasping metal catching Yuri's ears and he turned toward it, facing it down.
Now you don't have to suffer any more, you don't have to be alone anymore.
Yuri's brows creased in a deep frown, the four mask's silent movements a taunt he did not understand. With a shake of his head he turned away, taking the steps down to the verge in one leap.
"I don't know what's goin' on here, but I promise you this, you sniggering bastards, I'll beat you. I'll enjoy beating you, and I'll keep beating you until I win. You got that, buddy?" He raised one fist defiantly before turning toward the gate in the distance. Each step bringing him closer to the black iron, each step filling him with a strength of purpose he had never felt in that graveyard before. Now, now he knew what he had to do. Be damned to fear, be damned to anyone and anything that tried to stop him.
I'll always be right here by your side. Now we'll be together, forever.
"And damn to all of you," he muttered as he stepped through the gate to awaken suddenly in the dark. Dew was on his clothing and the air was chill with autumn. As he rubbed his face and dragged his gloved fingers through his rumpled hair, he rose to his feet, scanning the hillside and the town in the distance.
"That's bad," he muttered. "I almost overslept."
In the distance, Jilin glittered in city lights, the train station just beyond a shadow amongst the lights. He looked up at the clear sky, the stars twinkling coldly and, in the east, the barest sliver of the moon rising.
"It'll be here soon," he said and, with one final brush of his clothing, he headed off, walking swiftly toward the distant train station. In the back of his mind the dreams he had earlier faded into dust and smoke, and a feeling of determined excitement crawled up from his guts. He felt exhilarated, a small smile worming its way onto his lips and he felt happy. The voice had told him to come this way, to take the train and, in spite of his usual complaints, he felt glad, as if something good was going to happen.
Silently he laughed as he crossed the last of the fields and climbed up to the train station. It was dark, no one waited and he nodded, preferring to prepare alone. The feeling of excitement was building and he checked his gloves, patted his pocket for the medicines he'd bought on the way and settled his shoulders for the wait.
It's the world you secretly prayed for. The place your heart returns to. The time when you were the happiest. You can start your life over again.
"I feel like a kid again," he said and laughed out loud at the thought. This is fun.