Daylight pries at the corners of her eyelids, and she opens them slowly to golden softness. For just a moment, she is disoriented; her surroundings are not immediately familiar. Then she remembers where she is, and the realization brings a dizzying, pleasant feeling to replace her split-second panic.

Everything is as it should be.

She pulls herself to a sitting position, letting her breath out in a little rush because there remains a faint memory of pain. That she is alone does not trouble her; the other's warmth is still embedded in the sheets beside her, and that is enough.

She lets her eyes roam carefully about the small, cozy room, taking in every detail and memorizing it. Everywhere, there is the other's presence, clothing and small possessions strewn haphazardly across floor and furniture. Though the disarray appears to signify turmoil, she knows better; a small smile tugs at her lips.

Finally, she swings her feet over the edge of the bed. Though it is comforting to be surrounded by and reminded of the other's existence, it remains a poor substitute. She rises, letting the sheets slide away from her bare body, and turns to the window. Without hesitation, she pushes it open and pauses in anticipation, drinking deeply the sweet morning air. She immerses herself in the sunlight and birdsong, every nerve in her body touched, every sense aroused. A calm breeze ruffles her hair like a lover's breath, and the sensation is soothing, adding to her already established sense of peace. The weather is divine, but she thinks she would be happy even if it weren't.

She opens her eyes then, the thrill of nature now secondary, as she scans the landscape below. It does not take her long to find what she seeks. Her lips part in a soft smile, one of peaceful contentment in discovering something is right where she wanted it... and knowing it never intended on being anywhere else.

Her heart quickens. There is a distinct beauty in this moment, in being on this balcony, in looking down at what she sees. But she can no longer keep herself from the real treasure that is waiting just below. She turns from the window and leaves the room, uncaring as to her state of undress. All that matters is the feel of sand under her feet, heat on her head from the sun above, and the scent of salt water.

She doesn't think she's ever felt so alive.

Somehow, she keeps her steps slow and unhurried, perhaps because she knows now that time belongs to them. It's a promise full and ripe in the air: there will be a thousand days after this, perhaps in different places, but all the same regardless. The world might progress, but they are safe at last from its ills, and she feels as though she has been given a taste of forever.

She doesn't have to wish this moment will never end, because in a way, it can't.

She's been noticed now, and cannot help herself; she sprints the last few paces until she is crashing into the other's open embrace, her arms encircling a waist as naked as her own. The older woman laughs softly - an enchanting, musical sound - and she can feel it resonate as she presses her body tighter. She loses awareness of the beach around her, set adrift in delirious, unadulterated joy, conscious only of gentle touches and soft skin and silky blonde hair.

Neither speaks a word. It isn't necessary.


A/N:

So yeah. Kirei Na Kanjou. One of the best ending sequences ever. :)

The inspiration for this fic was actually derived from a debate I'd read recently concerning the ending animation. It seems there are two popular opinions - it's either an epilogue to the series or simply some kind of peaceful alternate universe. As enthralling as the first idea is, there's one obvious problem with it: the presence of both the pocketwatch and their guns, which I too decided to take an artistic liberty with and ignore. :) Either way, the general consensus concerning the song itself was that it's about Kirika's feelings toward Mireille, so I tried to emphasize that while keeping in the same subtle style as the original lyrics, while also trying to leave things at Kirika's simple, non-analytical thought process. (Again, the keyword here is "tried.") So, I consider this my humble offering to all the other hopeless romantics out there who like to think of the ending theme in such a way. Thanks for reading!