A/N: Hi everybody! I'm new to the Witch Hunter Robin fanfiction crowd. Anyway, this is part of my pubic poetry project. The poem in here is written by Li-Young Lee and really good! I'm planning to use his poems or parts of them for the next chapters, so it's going to be like this whole story working off of his poems. Back on topic, for the project, we need to make a poem public and receive feedback on it. Basically, I really need feedback on the poem more than on my fic but I really like reviews! I wouldn't mind some of those! There is also a website on the bottom of the page where you can find more information on Lee and also you can see a lot of other poetry pages done by my classmates. Please ask anybody you know to read the poem even if they aren't into Witch Hunter Robin and they can send feedback on my poetry webpage. Thank you for your support!
Anyway, this fic is going to be in a very different style than others that I've read, so I hope it is enough to make it unique; but if it's not, then I have a few twists and interpretations of events in the series that have not been put out yet.
Disclaimer: I do not in any way, shape, or form own Witch Hunter Robin and I am not making any money on it. And I'm really poor anyway, so it would be pointless to sue me anyway. Also, I don't own nor did I write the Li-Young Lee poems, obviously.
Title: Liberation from the Past
By: Tro the Voice of Reason
Rated: PG-13
Summary: It's been 4 months since the fall of the Factory. The wheels of destiny have begun to turn and the past just won't let go.
"Eating Alone"
By: Li-Young Lee
I've pulled the last of the year's young onions.
The garden is bare now. The ground is cold,
brown and old. What is left of the day flames
in the maples at the corner of my
eye. I turn, a cardinal vanishes.
By the cellar door, I wash the onions,
then drink from the icy metal spigot.
Once, years back, I walked beside my father
among the windfall pears. I can't recall
our words. We may have strolled in silence. But
I still see him bend that way-left hand braced
on knee, creaky-to lift and hold to my
eye a rotten pear. In it, a hornet
spun crazily, glazed in slow, glistening juice.
It was my father I saw this morning
waving to me from the trees. I almost
called to him, until I came close enough
to see the shovel, leaning where I had
left it, in the flickering, deep green shade.
White rice steaming, almost done. Sweet green peas
fried in onions. Shrimp braised in sesame
oil and garlic. And my own loneliness.
What more could I, a young man, want.
Prologue: Escape
It was dark that day. Rain pelted foggy windows and copper roofs. Cars lay dormant. Playgrounds were unusually barren. Despite the rapid sparks of thunder and lightening, the place was peaceful and muted by the drum of pelting rain. The inhabitants laughed unaware of the recent events and two figures stealing through the darkened barrier of forestry.
They had entered, strangely stiff, a rather disreputable establishment, while the manager mistook them for the usual clientele, she with her cut and bruised eye and he with his arm surrounding her, controlling her.
"We want a room," the dark-haired man demanded flatly and slammed some money on the counter, affectively waking the portly desk clerk who was taking a snooze on the job.
"Ah?" The man jumped from his chair in surprise. Glancing at a clock on the wall he replied, "Oh...isn' i' a li'le late to be checkin' in?" He cowered under the man's glare. "I suppose tha' you an' your...ah...your wife will 'e satis'ied wit' one room?"
Shooting the green-eyed woman-child a pitying glance, the desk clerk reached for a key as the man tightened his arm about her and answered, "Yes."
Once enclosed by the safety of the confines of their temporary home, the remainder of their energy dispersed from their weary bodies. Finally.
They slept.
When the younger awoke, she noticed that he was observing the outside surroundings. Concerned she questioned him, "Are you hurt?"
They had been separated from Miho, somehow knowing that she would survive to see the first rays of the dawn sun peeking over the tree line, unable to break through the trees. Continuing, they ran through hallways and corridors and rooms of offices, storage, and scientific experimentations and stopped barely dodging steel beams, electrical wires, and bursting water pipes, pressing up against the crumbling walls. Only the corpses of their enemies lay still, as if asleep with a stagnant pool of red-blackened of blood among fading, flashing fluorescent lights. Finally, they reached a doorway and the ladder to freedom.
"I have taken care of it. It was not serious."
As she sat up and rubbed the sand from her eyes, she avoided the response of obvious denial. "What time is it?"
"Almost noon."
"We weren't followed?"
"No, but we need to move. Soon."
Curling, curling, she twisted her blackened strands. At least one thing is back to normal. "Are we going to see—"
"No. I've already made the arrangements."
"But the Hunters... They already could know. They knew where we—"
"I have a plan."
It's a gift.
You mean a curse.
"You always a plan," she replied with a hint of bitterly. "Things will always bet his way, won't they?"
"As long as we are alive."
She sighed and replied, "You don't have to come" with me. "I am perfectly capable of handling the Hunters. I know you wouldn't mind having a normal life...with Touko."
"I will stay as long as I see fit."
I don't understand. One second you are my knight-in-shining-armor, and the next, my mortal enemy.
Silence hung like a heavy cloud mimicking the current climate. She stood, walking towards the bathroom and shutting the door, frustration radiating from her person. Despite himself, he could hear the water running and the rustling of clothes. Humans do not appreciate the importance of normalcy. He had given up on it years ago when the STN-J first appeared in his life.
A half hour later, his partner stepped out of the bathroom. "I hung my clothes up to dry, though there is nothing else I can do to repair them," she said as she dug her toe into the carpet and encircled her arms tighter around her petite body.
"Hn."
Suddenly, "I've done some thinking. Maybe we should look for them, the Witches."
"Do not compare me to them," he replied with a slight change of voice. "They cannot be trusted."
"And you can be?" Silence reigned for minutes. "I'm sorry. I should be more grateful."
"Don't. I am your warden and I will do what is necessary. Remember that."
"Run!"
"No!"
"Warden... Is this really right things to do...?" she murmured thinking he couldn't hear.
He stood tightly controlled rage unleashed. "You are my responsibility! Make a mistake and I will do what I must!"
"And what of your mistakes? Don't forget what got you in this situation!"
"Oh," he said maliciously, "I have not forgotten. It was you."
Tears prickled from the bottomless pits of her eyes but she would not allow him the satisfaction of seeing his effect on her. Whispering she replied, "So it's all my fault, is it? You had no choice in the matter? Tell me the truth! Why are you helping me?"
He takes avoidance of fraternization to a whole new level.
She rushed towards him, latching onto his normally gray clothing. Tilting her face to find the angle to see his stone-frozen face, she pleaded, desperation unintentionally creeping into her voice, "Why? Because I am your partner? Because I am a liability? Because you are ten years my senior? Because I am a Witch?" Receiving no response she continued more calmly, "You told me before that you trusted me."
A halo appeared; a sort of aura surrounded her figure. It had always been there, but this time, this moment had somehow intensified it, magnifying. Even the sunlight coming through the broken wall behind her could not compare. The light had become a part of her, as if she had absorbed it and used to enhance her power.
This moment had to be broken.
Quietly responding: "I do not trust myself." He loosened her hands from his shirt and sat down in his original position. "They will find us. We must leave this place."
"If something happens to me, go find this person. He knows how to hide."
"And go where?"
"Hong Kong."
"Again? But my Cantonese hasn't improved."
"You're not supposed to speak to anyone anyway. In any case, we will flee the country tonight."
"But...Nagira. He's waiting for us."
"He'll understand."
His partner smiled lightly again and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek against the top of his soot-filled hair. Closing her eyes she murmured, "Thank you."
"Get dressed. It's time to go."
Trapped by the past with no means of escape.
A/N: Thank you for reading and review please! And for more information on Li-Young Lee please go to www . stoneridge . org. Click on "Upper School" and scroll down and the link "Public Poetry".