Vision of Escaflowne: Soulmates

Written by: Meghanna Starsong

"Chapter Three"

Standard Disclaimer: Escaflowne is copyright to its creator, Shoji Kawamori, owners, and distributors. I am not making any money off of this fanfiction. None of the Escaflowne characters are mine, although I have inserted my own creations into this universe as well. Please do not steal my original characters or use them without my permission. This is a continuation of Escaflowne the series after Episode 26.

Author's Notes: I wanted to thank rage98, pinkdynamite, and penelopi who were the first to review this story. Visual kei refers to a type of Japanese rock where the male musicians dress a bit eccentrically. (Gackt-sama! ^_^)

Edited 6/2/2017: In keeping with the recent changes, I fixed some grammar and consistency issues.

"""""""

Hitomi flipped over onto her back, spreading her arms and legs across the bed. It had been a restless night; she dozed but got no substantial sleep. The dawn approached, lightening the sky through the window a brighter gray. Though her body felt fatigued, her mind was alert. She glanced over at the glistening feather near her pillow. One last time, she grazed its length with her fingertip, entranced by its otherworldliness, and then shook her head. She yanked open the drawer of the nightstand and hid the quill away in it.

I can't think about it anymore. It's all too damn much, she swore exasperatedly.

Yawning, Hitomi cast aside her covers and crept out of bed. She trudged into the bathroom where she splashed water on her face and brushed her teeth. She emerged with a fresh bandage on her left knee and hunted through her clean, but unfolded, laundry for some running shorts, a sports bra, and a t-shirt. Once she was dressed, Hitomi powered on her cell phone and saw there were no new text messages or voicemails. Feeling relieved, she abandoned the apparatus on the bed. She wasn't in the mood to deal with the world yet.

It seemed like a good time for a jog.

She retrieved her apartment keys from the messenger bag and pocketed them. Out of habit, she searched for her small MP3 player. She found it on top of the table she ate and studied on amid a collection of papers and yesterday's dishes. The slim rectangle lay beside a pair of looped earbuds. She hesitated a moment, considering. Hitomi liked to jog to music, but she wanted the quiet of the early morning today. She withdrew her left hand, the scratched palm protesting. Instead, she tied the laces of her running shoes and adjusted her socks.

Hitomi locked the door and descended the stairwell of the building. She passed several other apartments where no sounds came from the inhabitants. It was not quite dawn outside. A pale darkness reigned over the sky, a burgeoning gray-lavender light. The yellow crescent moon was sinking below the western horizon. It seemed remote, somehow diminished. The streetlights still gleamed a dull orange along the residential block.

She went through a series of stretches and enjoyed the coolness of the autumn morning, although her body fought off goosebumps. It might be a good idea to change into sweat pants, but Hitomi was restless. She decided she would warm up while running. Completing her exercises, she sprinted off down her typical route.

The city was so quiet, even for a Saturday. There were no cars honking, people shouting, or yapping dogs. Only the beats of her feet on the lead sidewalk interrupted the silence. Her short, rapid breaths left her lungs starving. The muscles in Hitomi's legs nagged at her, and her knee ached from the rhythmic motion of running. It had been a while since her last workout. She did not have much time recently with midterms looming ahead. It felt good to do something physical to channel her energy.

Hitomi pushed herself harder. Her strides lengthened and quickened. She ignored the discomfort of her knee and kept pace with her pounding heart. Parked cars, street signs, and tall poles whizzed by her. She no longer felt the chill of the morning. Perspiration trickled down her forehead and chin; her clothes were damp with it.

After thirty minutes, she paused under a streetlight's glow. Her chest heaved in exertion. Sweat dribbled off of her onto the pavement. The liquid splatters reminded Hitomi of raindrops. Her clothes were glued to her like a sheath, and her sports bra had ridden up uncomfortably. She tugged at the bra's elastic band and looked around her, not immediately recognizing the scenery. Some time ago, she had ventured off of her jogging path. This neighborhood was more secluded than her block. There were more trees and houses, less apartment buildings and shops.

An obsidian shadow passed over Hitomi beneath the lamp light. As it did, she sensed the shadow's iciness, an immense emptiness. Her body went rigid, and an electric shiver raced down her spine. Was it a bird? A bat? Cautiously, she glanced over her shoulder. Nothing was there except unlit buildings, a brick wall, and a stray cat. The orange light reflected in the feline's round eyes, and then it darted off, spooked by something.

Hitomi muttered to herself about how crazy she was acting. She bent double to massage a cramp in her calf. Then she flexed the muscles in her legs and back. She straightened with a flick of her drenched hair.

And saw the head.

Oh, God, what is it?! she gawked.

The head was as sallow as a corpse's and disembodied. It floated in the grayness beyond the streetlight. The eyes were like sinkholes, dead stars, sucking in everything nearby. Rotting flesh clung to the head's sharp features. It emitted a putrid smell, something between singed hair and rancid meat.

"Hitomi Kanzaki," a voice, deep as a grave and grating as sin, said. Its lips had not moved. A claw-like hand materialized below the head. It pointed an index finger at her. "You will die."

She stumbled backwards, heart thrumming, unable to process what was happening. Her back came up against the unyielding surface of the streetlight's pole. "W-Who are you?"

"I am Shadow. You know me."

"I-Is this another vision?" Hitomi was freezing. The short, blond hairs on her arms and neck stood up. "I d-don't know who…what you are!"

"The end has begun. Soon we will meet, Hitomi Kanzaki. When we do, you will die." The head was disappearing as the sun peeked up from the east.

She cried, "Wait!"

"I am Shadow. I am on Gaea." The head faded like a nightmare. Sunlight lanced through the space it once occupied.

It was gone.

Hitomi's head throbbed as if a sledgehammer had struck it. She slid down the streetlight's pole onto her knees, her shirt hiking up in the back. The orange lamp flickered out. The sun rose higher and shed pastel pink and coral across the sky. The sunlight heated the land below. Her clothes, still clammy from sweat and the cold the head had emanated, slowly warmed up.

What was that thing? It must have been a spirit. But of who or what? Did it have anything to do with the vision of Van yesterday? It spoke of Gaea, the place that she had worked so hard to forget.

Hitomi staggered to her feet and grabbed the streetlight's pole for support. Dizzy, she shut her green-blue eyes and said aloud to the sun, "I can't go back."

"""""""

"Hitomi!"

The insistent exclamation of her name jarred Hitomi back to the present. She jumped in the delicate, wire-back chair. In the process, she bumped the circular, equally flimsy, table. The white porcelain teacups clanked in their saucers, sending tea sloshing over their rims and onto the lace tablecloth. Some of the amber liquid streamed off the table and into her lap. Cursing inaudibly, she grabbed a cloth napkin and dabbed at her jeans. Luckily, the tea was not too hot, more tepid.

"Take mine," Yukari volunteered and handed the folded wedge of a napkin to Hitomi.

"Sorry, sorry."

Chagrined, Hitomi shook out the second napkin and used it to sop up the tea that the tablecloth had not. The waiter came by, a jovial man in a pressed black apron, starched shirt, and button-down vest. Even his mustache smiled as he inquired if the young ladies preferred clean napkins first or fresh tea. Five minutes later, the waiter cleared off the table, replaced the table covering with an unsoiled one, and produced a second round of steaming cups.

"Allow me to leave this, mademoiselles." The waiter gestured with a gloved hand at the arched neck of the teapot. "In case there is another accident."

Hitomi's cheeks burned with embarrassment. Yukari giggled as the waiter bowed to them and left to attend another party. After a swift glance around, Hitomi was satisfied that she had not made too big of a spectacle of herself. Their table was tucked away in a corner of the teashop behind a vined trellis. The only other person who witnessed her blunder was their most immediate neighbor, an old woman with horn-rimmed glasses. She at least politely pretended to read a newspaper and hid an amused grin behind its pages.

"This place really has great service," Yukari chirped. She looped her fingers through the handle of her cup and sipped. Hitomi caught a pungent whiff of cinnamon. "Amano and I came here a month ago."

"What's the name of this teashop?" Hitomi laced her hands around her own cup. The steam rose and moistened her fingers.

Yukari pouted, "Come on. Why are you so spacy? I told you earlier, remember?"

"I'm sorry. I forgot. I didn't sleep well last night." Guiltily, Hitomi ducked her chin and stared into her cup's tan depths.

"It's French. Sous La Lune." Yukari drummed her fingers on the table. "I remember you chose to study English in high school. Therefore, I, the great francophone, will translate. It means: beneath the moon."

Hitomi couldn't resist smiling at her friend. "It's lovely."

"Isn't it?" Yukari took another slurp from her cup. "The tea's great, but that's not why I brought you here."

Uh oh, Hitomi winced. She hid her nervous expression from Yukari by swallowing a large gulp of tea. It was wonderful, a blend of cinnamon spiced orange and jasmine, but the aftertaste was predictably bitter. I know where this is going.

"I was surprised you called this afternoon and invited me out. I thought Amano and you would be enjoying a Saturday together," she hedged.

"Mmm, well, even married people need time apart." Yukari sighed melodramatically and arched a plucked eyebrow. "So, why don't you tell me about your date? How did it go with the visual kei guy?"

Hitomi shrugged and met Yukari's mischievous, tawny eyes. "I'm afraid there isn't much to say."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing happened. No date. No juicy details."

"What?!"

She briefly filled Yukari in on last night's events but omitted the vision and the feather. Yukari groaned and buried her slim, oval face in her arms atop the table. Her auburn hair, which was longer than their girlhood days, splayed across the ivory lace of the tablecloth. For a moment, it reminded Hitomi of the color of blood. She blinked several times, trying to rid herself of the memory of a red rain dyeing the earth scarlet. With a quivering hand, she plucked at a strand of Yukari's hair. Yes, it was only hair, soft and shiny, nothing more.

Feeling the light tug on her mane, Yukari straightened up, her expression woebegone. "Hitomi, that's so pathetic. You called off a date, because you tripped!"

"I was hurt," she countered defensively. Hitomi pushed the past back into the remotest crevice of her mind. "Kagame was very understanding."

"You may as well have canceled because of a sneeze!"

Hitomi rolled her eyes and poured the last of the squat teapot's contents into their cups. "Stuff happened. That's all. Kagame is sweet, but…I don't know."

"You didn't give him a real chance."

"Hey, I thought you didn't like him. Since when did you turn into a fan?" she feebly joked.

Yukari pursed her lips. "It's not that I like or dislike him. I just want to make sure that you're with someone…nice."

"I don't think I can find anyone nicer than Kagame."

"So, you should've had dinner with him."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Something doesn't feel right."

"What's not right? Dating? Falling in love?" Yukari tucked locks of her hair behind her ears, the tips curling outward. "You can't keep self-sabotaging yourself this way."

"How am I self-sabotaging?" Hitomi bristled at the comment.

"Anyone can see what you're doing. You never let guys get near you. You always find faults with them or make excuses not to get to know them. Are you really okay with that? Do you want to be alone your whole life?"

"That's not fair, Yukari!" Hitomi slammed her teacup down onto the saucer. "Just because Amano and you have a good relationship doesn't mean that everyone else gets to have that!"

Yukari reached across the table and clasped Hitomi's injured hand between both of hers. "But that's the problem. There hasn't been anyone for you since Amano. Not for years. Why is that?"

"I'm done talking about this."

"See? There you go. Every time I bring this up, you cut me off." Yukari squeezed Hitomi's hand. "I've tried to respect your privacy. I told myself eventually you would open up to me, but you haven't. Whatever you're keeping inside, it's hurting you. I can see it."

"Oh, please!" Hitomi weakly laughed. "Stop joking around. Nothing's wrong, Yukari."

"Don't lie to me! I know when you are."

"I'm not. Look, I'm telling you-"

Yukari shook Hitomi's hand for emphasis. "No, I'm telling you. This thing is affecting you. You're different. You have to talk about what's bothering you. If you don't, you'll only hurt yourself more."

"Nothing is wrong!" Hitomi yanked her hand back from Yukari.

Yukari softened her voice. "Is it Amano? Are you in still love with him?"

"Don't be silly! That was a simple crush. It meant nothing."

"Okay. I understand. I just have to ask." Yukari gripped her new napkin and twisted it. "Then it must be something from high school. You never said why you went to counseling or what triggered your PTSD. Something happened to you around that time, right?"

Hitomi's face grew hotter and hotter. Her throat tightened. She tried to swallow but couldn't. It was painful, like choking. "Stop it."

"Were you in love with someone back then?" Yukari questioned relentlessly. Her napkin was totally scrunched now. "Did he hurt you? Hitomi, I just want to-"

"Shut up!" Hitomi shouted. She covered her ears with her hands. The emerald teardrop earrings bit into her palms. "No more!"

Yukari jerked as if Hitomi had slapped her. Her bottom lip trembled. The friendly chatter of the teashop subsided. Several people watched their table, curious, alarmed. Hitomi lowered her hands from her face into her lap. Flushing, she prayed for composure. Yukari inhaled audibly, gently set aside her teacup, and stood up. From out of her purse, she retrieved a wrinkled money note. She smoothed it and left it beside her cup.

Hitomi looked up at Yukari's willowy figure. "I didn't mean-"

"I don't know who you are anymore, Hitomi. I haven't for a long time." Yukari's voice was resigned and exhausted. "Do you?"

"I'm sorry! It's my fault. I'm…tired today."

"Oh, yeah? I'm tired, too. I'm tired of trying to figure you out."

"I'm a little moody. Okay? Let's-"

"I'm going home. Don't call me until you're tired of keeping secrets." Without a backward glance, Yukari walked toward the teashop's entrance. The bell over the door jingled as she opened it and padded out into the world.

Hitomi sat at their table for another ten, fifteen minutes. She glowered at the distance between Yukari's teacup and her own. Finally, she signaled the waiter. His demeanor was noticeably chilled. He sniffed at Hitomi through his mustache as she paid for her half of the bill. When the waiter brought her the change, he frowned and bid her a straight-faced "aurevoir." There was no playful, gallant bow this time.

I guess I'm a jerk to you, Hitomi thought at the French-accented waiter. She tipped him extra from the change. That's okay. I think the same thing.

"""""""

Merle lingered in the shadow of the doorway, hovering just outside the castle rooftop, as Lord Van observed his kingdom. The lights of buildings and torches winked like fireflies below the marble castle. Lost in contemplation, the young king was a warm-blooded statue, ignorant of the autumn's chill in his court finery. The sky over him sparkled with an infinitude of stars, all glittering like the gold embroidery of his clothes. A pearlescent moon floated ghost-like amid the black waters of the sky. Behind it was the shining blue and green orb of the Mystic Moon.

Tail twitching, Merle scrutinized Lord Van. It was one of her favorite past times, and she was not alone in this. He was an undeniably handsome man and one of Gaea's most eligible bachelors. The woman that married him also married a prosperous kingdom. So, it was not uncommon for Lord Van to be followed by female, and some male, eyes.

Over the span of five years, Lord Van had grown several centimeters, although he wouldn't be a giant like his father, King Gaou. No, he favored his mother, Queen Varie. Her soft features were evident in the shape of Lord Van's face, his compact built, and his ruby-brown eyes. He had, however, inherited the jut of his father's chin, his determined mouth, and his unruly hair.

In truth, all Merle knew in her eighteen years was Lord Van. Since being taken in as a kitten by Balgus Ganesha, a wandering samurai who had served Fanelia's rulers, her life had revolved around this kind boy. Now that boy was a man, a man that Merle pined after desperately, silently. If only he would turn to her, not as a brother, not as a king, but as a lover.

However, Merle knew just as she could not change her heart, Lord Van could not change his. It was why he sought solace in the nights. And so, as was their custom, she watched Van Fanel as he watched the Mystic Moon.

He whispered a word so quietly no normal person could have heard it. But being a cat, Merle picked it up with the flick of a tufted ear. "Hitomi."

"""""""

Hitomi slumped onto her bed, the mattress squeaking in disapproval. She propped her elbows on her thighs and rested her chin on her knuckles. She hovered like that, glaring at the stoic, second-hand nightstand. Temptation won over self-control and she slid open the drawer. Yes, there was the feather, fragile as a dream, but real. She laid it in her left hand, the scraped palm ugly next to the quill's beauty. With her other hand, Hitomi picked up her cell phone, scrolled through her contacts, and hovered over the one labeled "Home."

She squeezed her eyes shut, hating herself for her weakness, and pushed the "call" button. The phone buzzed against her ear, once, twice, a third time. Hitomi waited, hoping no one was home, hoping someone was.

"Hello, Kanzaki residence." The voice of Hitomi's mother, balmy as a summer sea, washed over her.

"Hey, Mom," she whispered.

"I'm sorry. I can't hear you. Who is this?"

Hitomi cleared her throat and wiped away a tear that slithered down the slope of her cheek. "Mom, it's me. Hi."

"Oh, Hitomi! I'm sorry. You were talking so low." Her mother sounded pleased. "How's my college girl?"

"Um, I'm okay."

"Studies are going well?"

"Yeah." Hitomi's earring bumped against the phone.

Catching a tautness in Hitomi's tone, her mother asked, "Is something wrong? You don't sound very good."

No, I'm not, she honestly admitted and curled her left hand into a fist. The image of a winged angel flashed through her mind. It was followed by the vision of an animated corpse. Both were such extremes, bringing with them a mixture of yearning and terror.

Hitomi relaxed her hand. The feather withstood the punishment of her grasp. It lay there so innocently, waiting.

Gaea was calling to her once again.

"Mom, I want to come home." Hitomi began to cry in earnest. Big globules of salt-water glided down her face and collected on her chin. She angrily wiped them away with the sleeve of her shirt. "I'm confused."

"What's wrong? Oh, honey, you know you can home whenever you want to."

Hitomi snuffled, "Now?"

"Well, I was about to start dinner…"

"Mom, please. Can you come get me? I don't want to be here tonight."

"Okay, Hitomi. That's fine. It may take a little bit with the traffic. Why don't you pack some clothes and your homework for the weekend? We can drive you back before classes start on Monday."

"I'd like that," she sniffed.

"I'm on the way. I'll see you soon."

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"""""""

To Be Continued