A/N: Thank you for those who reviewed :) Hopefully you won't mind a wickedly short chapter. But don't worry, there won't be too many of these...
Prior to the Ocean
My eyes burst open the instant I heard loud, derisive knocking on my door. Instead of getting up and opening it, like I normally would, I merely rolled over in bed. The knocking didn't cease once, until minutes later. The person at the other side dejectedly stepped away from the door, and I listened as they headed back down the stairs, a door shutting behind them.
What happened last night was not something for me to take for granted. It was not something I could forget, and it would haunt me each night… limitlessly. A coma was almost as bad as a death… either way, my grandmother is gone. I know her soul is here, I know her body is here… but she is gone.
I crept out of my room silently, noting the closed door to Sebastian's room. I wondered if grandmother's position has fazed him as greatly as it had me. Yet, I don't believe that can be possible. Because no matter what I say… words mean nothing.
My face is stone, plain, and empty. What was I expected to do now?
Go look at the waves, of course. Like I always do…
I headed out of the mansion, and to my surprise my shawl was in the exact same position I had left it in the night before. It was folded exactly as well.
"Who did this?" I said softly, taking it and draping it around my shoulders. I continued down the path with my eyes stuck to the ground heavily.
Everything would be different. My grandmother was more than a person to me— she was my family. My one and only family in the village. And now…
Please stop thinking.
For the first time, I looked up, eyes widening at the sight I immediately took in. Fresh, green spring leaves that gave the wide-trunk trees a vivacious appeal, dewy, large pedals and long stems belonged to the gorgeous Moon Drop flowers askew among the lush scenery. The grass looked new and full and added perfect colouring to compliment the dirt. The sky was pure and a complete, absolute baby blue, its contour not visible from where I stood. Weeds and hindrances were also nowhere in sight, with the exception of stray debris scattered among abandoned corners. The spring sun lit up the entire path, and even the stone path looked a little better paved.
…Why wasn't I happy? Interested, in the least? This beauty… Earth's natural beauty… shouldn't I be astounded by it? Is it not as alluring as the ocean? It's not any different… is it?
Surroundings oblivious, I hurry down the path, and again no one is in sight. It's as if my grandmother's position has sent everyone inside, as if they were scared of some outdoor plague… did they even know, yet?
Gustafa, the traveling guitarist, appeared down the other end of the street. I automatically shot him a shy, polite smile and wave, and he shoots one back wholly. Then we both walk our opposite directions, my smile dropping the instant I turn away.
They didn't know…
Hoping for not a single more interruption, I hurry to get to the beckoning ocean. For now, it's a good thing. I don't want things to be different, just because of her… right now everything seems surreal. Everyone else acting upon the tragedy will only make reality press in more. Reality is the last thing I want to endure.
Again, I arrive at the dividing line between land and sea, gazing upon the vast bluish arena in awe. For some reason, I never bore watching the waves. It's the same thing, time after time, yet it is so… different, from anything else. I've never seen anything so big, or so mysterious; so peaceful and at the same time, so frightening. Not once have I watched the flow of the sea with lacklustre abandon… not once have I not been profound, each and every time it completely amazes me. Apart from the grass, the trees, the flowers, the soil… it dares to be different.
Then why must we remain all the same? Like cardboard cut outs, paper from a photocopier. Each human being has a different face, a different personality; different blood in their veins. Yet… we are so alike, in ways all too centred. Yet in the end, difference makes no existence… there is only… uniqueness.
I want to choose to be unique. I want to pretend to be different, but… I feel the same emotions, I desire the same desires, I greed for alike greed… no matter what, no matter how hard I try to dare to be different, I can't be. Because like I said… we are all the same.
It's comical and ridiculous but… I am jealous of the sea. So serene, as blue takes over blue when sin floats into its way. It's perpetually gorgeous, and majority overrules all differences… it is rebellious and dangerous, yet it knows how to be calm and calming. It strives for nothing, yet it receives… everything. Its waves connect to more waves, like saviors; like friends. When its sources are cut off, it regenerates, forever complete. It's so perfect, in ways more than one. If you think about, if I do, the ocean is all the things I won't ever be.
All the things I can't ever be.
"Is something the matter, Lumina?"
My head jerks in the other direction. Jack, the newest addition to Forget-Me-Not-Valley, was a farmer who was helping out at Takakura's farm in the north. I knew little about him, yet I felt like I could read his thoughts as I looked into his ardent brown eyes.
I brush back the urge to say a frank "Yes" and merely look back into his eyes earnestly. "I'm fine… just watching the waves." I gesture to behind me, as if he hadn't seen the ocean.
To my surprise, he walks up and sidles next to me, so close our breaths nearly meet.
"Pretty, isn't it?" he says softly.
I blush, thinking he's referring to me. As my gaze drifts over to him, I realize he's looking at the sea.
Desire the same desires, greed the same greed… lust the same lust.
"Absolutely gorgeous," I whisper in reply to his implied query.
He looks at me and gives me a small smile, before looking back to the waves.
"Do you come here often?"
I suppressed a laugh, unsure if this was his idea of small-talk.
"Often is an understatement," I murmur vigilantly.
We remain silent as we continue to watch the dancing, brewing waves, and they rouse more thoughts. Every time, I discovered something new in comparison to the waves, whether it was about motion or scent or atmosphere… each time, it truly was absolutely gorgeous.
Another thought came to my head, this time about my grandma. Her kind but firm, wrinkled face embedded into my forehead and I shook my head tentatively.
"Is something the matter?" Jack asks, and again I shake my head.
"Just…" The words rose to my throat, but I didn't know how I could form the sentence. So I stopped it there; incompletely.
"It brings back memories, doesn't it?" Jack said, and for an instant I thought he was talking about my grandmother. I shot back, offended, but as I saw the thoughtful look on his face I quickly recovered. Not everything revolved around me.
"Bitter ones," I answer before I could stop myself.
He frowned, unsatisfied with this. "No sweet ones?" he prods.
I shrug vaguely and look down at leather of my shoes. It's soaked completely.
"Bitter ones," I repeat.
He's silent before finishing, "Bittersweet ones."
A trace of a smile appears on my lips. "Yeah."
And we watched without another word.