Title: Cruel Fate
Content: shonen ai, AU and the like…
Disclaimer: I own not the characters…wait, I own Kyla. Whoo. Go me…*weeps* I'd just like to apologize for the big delay and all that junk and I'm sorry and I know I'm a bad girl and I will try to make it up somehow…*weeps*
Author's Notes: *clears throat* I shall now thank you for your reviews by name to make up for the gap. I don't usually do this…but hey? What the heck!
Siberian (Thanks for, like, not killing me yet…^_^ we took some damn nice screen shots, ne?), Warui Warui Neko (I ask myself why it wasn't like this everyday…), CrystalStarGuardian (Ernest never should have died…but we won't let that stop us!), kapies (But doesn't Ernest strike you as an Angel? He does to me!), Lady Ev (I try so much to write more…I try! Honest!), Kobura Doragon (NO! He is NOT dead!), XPKoganei4XP (If only threats made me write faster…*sigh*), Alanna (Oh, now we know Ernest is far from being like A-chan…hehe…), gundamesca (Don't worry; I have an idea that fills that detail in…you'll see!), Chevira Lowe (Oh, yes, drama…*splashes water on her*), Kichigai (Impulsive Garu makes Sora happy! But she likes shirtless Garu better! Hehe!), Nanashii Tigress (Flashbacks are fun…^_^ I wish I'd write faster…)
Well, that's everyone. Now let's see if I can continue…
~Chapter Three~
Angel found riding to have a very calming affect on the nerves. Kyla had even taught him well enough to be able to go out on his own. And he needed to be, to do some deep thinking on his position. He rode out to the place his coffin had landed, to try and possibly regain any memories that he could.
The horse, Strawberry, which was fitting to her strawberry blonde color, flicked her ears warily upon seeing the large black box. Angel scratched the place between the ears to attempt to set her more at ease, before sliding out of the saddle. Carefully, he approached the coffin, running his hand along the smooth ebony surface. Metal. Strange; something told him that wasn't normal. The fact that he had trouble remembering basic facts well made him push that thought aside. Though he sometimes wondered how he was able to remember how to talk, and do basic things. Angel shoved these thoughts aside as well, simply because they were far too complicated to dwell upon at the moment.
The casket was still open from when he was removed from it. He noted it was rather thick. He passed this off as simple technology, something from one of those space stations he had supposedly come from. The inside of the coffin was even more strange; there seemed to be some kind of air vents lining the sides. Now that made him think; why would there be air vents in a coffin? Coffins were for dead people, unless they weren't dead yet…
"Angel!" the familiar cry shook Angel from his thoughts. He looked up with a smile, and as he expected, Kyla lingered at Strawberry's side, laying a hand on the horse's smooth neck. She cocked her head, blue eyes sparkling curiously. "What are you doing here?" Angel shook his head, pushing away from his kneeling position at the coffin's side.
"Just looking," he answered. A thought, completely random and sudden, burst forward in his mind, as if, after much struggling, was set free, and made known. "The Goddesses," he whispered, unable to contain this new idea. Kyla's body seemed to tense visibly.
"W-what?" she asked, almost as quietly. Angel turned his head to look at her, his eyes bordering somewhere between shock and fear.
"What are the Goddesses?" he asked, some urgency leaking into his voice. Kyla visibly bristled against the question, her eyes narrowing somewhat.
"The Goddesses…they're supposed to protect us, but," she stopped, shaking her head. A smile replaced her look of distress. "Let's go home. There's nothing else here to help you." She swung up onto the horse's back, offering a hand to Angel. He cast one last glance at the abandoned casket, and accepted that hand.
The office was dark, as usual, hiding what didn't need to be seen. A strange, blue-hued light solely illuminated the room; casting eerie shadows in the corners that light could not reach. All of this centered around one main desk, and an equally shadowy figure residing at it.
The figure was that of Masaki [1], head of G.O.A., the man responsible for everyone, and the one everyone was responsible for. The man that carried only one name, and was recognizable by that alone.
The man hardly spoke words to anyone beyond his direct associates and the head of the pilots herself. And even that was done moderately. Despite this, he had an immense knowledge of what was going on within his station, and the means to make it run smoothly. He'd even just recently dealt with a minor wrinkle in the workings of the pilots. Some things had to be avoided in their line of duty, as much as it hurt to deal with it.
Just then, in the middle of his own reminiscence, a tone sounded at Masaki's door. That meant someone requested entrance. No one ever came to him without permission unless it was important, so he pressed down on the button to open the door. The metal slid open with a silent swish, and a man in a long white lab coat stepped in before the door closed once more. The latter wore a slightly preoccupied look on his face.
"What is it, Doctor Terufumi?" Masaki questioned, eyeing the doctor critically. Terufumi ran a hand through his tousled dark hair, and cleared his throat.
"Do you remember the formula we used on subject number 03?" the doctor began, shoving a hand into his coat pocket to avoid fidgeting with it. Masaki, folding his hands together atop his desk, nodded slowly.
"What of it?" he asked, becoming marginally bored with this visit. Had they not taken care of this already?
"Well, we've carried out further testing, and it seems the substance…may be only tentatively permanent," The doctor finished. The head of G.O.A.'s brows furrowed at this news. He'd expected guarantees about his decisions. This was not what he'd expected.
"What do you mean by that, doctor?" the man asked warily. Terufumi straightened, hesitating for a moment or two before relaying an answer.
"It appears that from our testing, the formula only keeps an uncertain hold…and sometimes tends to weaken, allowing fragments of memory to break through…" Masaki sighed heavily, rubbing his thumb and forefinger over the bridge of his nose. Terufumi tensed, awaiting a reprimand.
No such thing was given to him.
"Well," Masaki began at length. "We'll just have to make sure nothing interferes with our arrangement. As long as the full memories do not return, we shouldn't have a problem. If he tries to piece them together himself, we shall have to deal with this the…more efficient way." Terufumi's eyes widened marginally at this idea, and then he bowed his head.
"Sir, I'll take my leave, then." He stated, moving towards the door. He paused before exiting. "Sir," Masaki looked up.
"Yes?"
"First was waiting to see you, sir," Terufumi declared. Masaki nodded slowly.
"Let her in," Terufumi nodded curtly, stepping out of the office. His presence was almost immediately, and silently, replaced by that of the long haired young woman that he'd spoke of. Masaki raised his eyes to meet hers, smiling slightly.
"Teela," he greeted, receiving a nod from the young woman in return. She was silent before coming directly to the point.
"Sir," she began, her voice calm and level, as it normally was. "Pilot 02 won't be able to assist us temporarily." Masaki scowled, raising his eyebrows.
"Why is this?" he asked placidly. Teela smothered all annoyance she may have felt rather affectively.
"He gave no explanation besides that he had 'a mission'." She reported. Masaki repressed a sigh. Pilot 02 was part of the problem…Though, it was possible this was only a coincidence. He could only hope that head-strong pilot wasn't going to meddle in things that were beyond his control. Masaki hadn't realized he'd said nothing in response for quite some time, until Teela prompted him. "What shall we do, sir?" Masaki rolled the question over in his mind for a minute or two, before reaching an answer.
"Send Candidate 87 in his place for the time being. When he returns, he can go back to work." Teela seemed surprised for a moment, before sliding her impassiveness back into place.
"Yes sir," she agreed silently. She turned to go, and paused. "Sir?" Masaki was eyeing the back of her head, since she hadn't turned back to face him. "Why do you choose to send the pilots' dead bodies into space?" Her question seemed innocent enough; even she'd no idea the true intent of this ritual. Masaki searched for a suitable explanation to give to her.
"To send them home. To space, the mother of us all." Teela nodded her head slightly, and left. "To give them a last chance," Masaki added silently.
Never. Never had he used such a harsh tone towards anyone. Never had he said such stinging words. And never had Ernest hurt anyone using physical violence, much less Gareas.
The green haired pilot raised a shaking hand to his now darkening cheekbone, his mind reeling, and not from the pain of the blow. Something in his friend had snapped, and that scared Gareas, more than anything. What had happened to push Ernest so close to the edge?
And then the realization hit; sudden and painful. It was him. Ernest was angry with him, and it was Gareas' fault he was so upset. But why? He had only been doing what he was supposed to do. How had he hurt his best friend so? A wave of guilt passed over Gareas, nearly making him sick.
"Garu?" Leena queried worriedly, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, offering him support. Gareas shook his head, wanting badly to push away from her and go after his blonde friend. But why? He loved Leena, didn't he? Even if he didn't love her, he still wanted her. Or so he thought. Now, he was too confused, too scared and disoriented to even think. A little more roughly than he has intended, Gareas pushed away from Leena and into a standing position.
"Can't…gotta find Ernest." He blurted, running off in the direction Ernest had taken. A thousand thoughts spun wildly in his head, and all of them centered on Ernest. Gareas barely even noticed that he was headed straight into a collision course with the object of his thoughts. The green haired pilot skidded to a stop.
Ernest stood completely still, leaning against the railing with his head tilted down, his silky blonde hair hiding his face. He had to know Gareas was there watching him, yet he said nothing. That silence was deathly. Ernest was obviously waiting for Gareas to be the one to break the silence.
"Ernest…" Anything else Gareas had to say died on his lips when he was met with a horribly lost expression from his expression. Gareas could feel his throat closing up. Why was he feeling this way? This wasn't the first time he had, but he thought he'd gotten over it. Leena had held his attention for awhile, but when he offered himself to her, she'd told him to wait. Why? "Why?" Gareas asked aloud. A sigh, soft, gentle, and beautiful was Ernest's response.
"Why." The blonde repeated softly. Gareas couldn't read Ernest now. "A better question is, why do you do this to me?" Gareas hadn't noticed that Ernest had taken a few steps closer to him.
"What did I do to you?" Gareas asked in a low voice. Gareas' hand itched to reach out and brush the hair from Ernest's face, soothe his rippled nerves, which were the only thing Gareas could read in Ernest's clear blue eyes.
"Gareas," Ernest began, exasperatedly. "It's that, no matter how much you yell at me or anyone, how much you don't care about the worth of your life and how everyone else feels, I still," he breathed deeply, a shuddering breath, before finishing. "I love you, Gareas. And no matter how reckless, insensitive, or careless you are, no matter how you feel about me, nothing is ever going to change that." If the wind had been knocked out of Gareas before, when Ernest punched him, then Gareas had no breath left now. And Ernest appeared relieved and nervous all at the same time. But…no one had ever told Gareas they'd loved him before.
Without even thinking, Gareas enfolded his strong arms around Ernest's slender figure in a tight embrace. The latter tensed in surprise at the touch, and only partly due to his EX, but Gareas only held him more possessively. Ernest relaxed a little, but there was still some nervous shock in him.
"Garu…what?" Gareas couldn't suppress a soft chuckle. Ernest was rather cute when he was confused. Cute? Ernest was his best friend…who loved him…wait. Ernest loved Gareas. He loved him in a way that went beyond friendship. Suddenly, Gareas felt himself go limp. "Gareas?"
"You…you love me?" Gareas asked, his mouth suddenly a lot drier than it should be.
"Yes Gareas," Ernest responded tentatively. Gareas ran his tongue along his dry lips. He was unconsciously grabbing fistfuls of Ernest's uniform, clinging to him as if he'd float away without a firm support to Gareas.
"More than a friend?" Gareas continued.
"That's right." Ernest answered with a degree of more confidence. Gareas fell silent for a moment, a moment that stretched on for an eternity for them both.
That moment ended rather abruptly, however, when it was punctuated by Gareas clumsily placing his lips upon Ernest's, his nervousness affecting his actions. Clear blue eyes snapped open as Gareas crushed his mouth against Ernest's so fumblingly, it was almost romantic. But Ernest could hardly breathe, let alone return the kiss this way. Gently, he pressed his hands against Gareas' chest, pushing him away. The green haired pilot seemed confused at this action. Ernest smiled softly, wrapping his arms around Gareas' neck. Despite the fear buried deep within him at what new doors he was opening, and the path he was closing, he knew this was right.
"Let's try it this way," Ernest pulled Gareas towards him, giving the taller boy a much more graceful kiss. They even went further, their tongues in each other's mouth, tasting each other.
Gareas wondered vaguely if this was what Leena had meant by waiting. If so, he was glad that he had.
Had Ernest been a needle, and Zion a haystack, then Gareas' situation would fit the phrase perfectly. However, the young man did have one thing going for him; he could feel Ernest deep within him. If he was close, Gareas would be the first to know it. He was that sure of their bond.
He'd started by looking through the database at the Zion G.O.A. base building. He'd searched hours for any sort of clue as to where Ernest had landed. He knew Ernest's coffin had to be on Zion, since caskets sent to Zion from G.O.A. were often doubly sturdy and made to resist any damage they might receive from the atmosphere so that they may be picked up and buried properly on the planet itself.
Gareas just prayed no burying had taken place.
The best Gareas had been able to do was track the coffin's direction from where it had originally left G.O.A. So, he found himself searching a small town far from technological civilization, and no clue as to where he should start.
Not to mention he had no means of getting around this place.
Gareas sighed heavily, leaning back to stare at the sky from the bench he sat on. He seemed to be in some little cluster of civilization, probably the most advanced aspect of the town itself. He'd remembered vaguely learning how many of the people on Zion wanted to hold onto the past that so many others had forgotten. Well, in Gareas' opinion, no one was forgetting, just building on and making in better. Of course, Gareas believed this mostly because that was what he'd been taught to believe.
Gareas turned his head to the sound of someone talking at his right, finding a little boy with dark hair and large brown eyes talking to a middle aged woman with light brown hair, flecked with a few peppered gray strands. Her eyes betrayed smile lines at their edges as she listened to the boy.
"-he doesn't remember much, but he's doing good just the same. Gram says we should probably start looking for his family or somethin' soon," the boy trailed off sort of sadly. The woman placed a hand lightly on his head and gave him a small smile.
"I'm sure he won't leave you forever. You did take care of him. Besides, from what you say, it might be awhile before he's ready to go yet," The boy smiled widely.
"You're right," The woman then handed him a package, and exchanging goodbyes, the boy was on his way. Gareas arched an eyebrow at his parting, wondering what that snippet of discussion had been about. His emerald eyes wandered over to the woman, who was turning back to enter the small building she'd left with the boy, from the looks of it, a pharmacy of some sort. Gareas found himself standing and moving towards her impulsively, not even sure why, except for the itching feeling he felt in him to talk to her.
"Hey, Miss! Excuse me, Miss!" Gareas called to her, just as the woman turned abruptly, coming nearly face to face with him. She frowned slightly.
"Young man, there's no need to shout," she began, and then started eyeing him suspiciously. His clothing did seem a bit outlandish for the area, uniform white pants that clung to his legs, boots, and a navy colored shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the G.O.A. symbol on all of these. "What is it?" she asked, finishing her inspection as her eyes landed on his face. Gareas hesitated a moment, slightly uncomfortable in her critical gaze.
"I-I'm looking for…someone," he stated, giving up on trying to avoid her eye contact. Might as well look his problems in the eye if there was any hope in finding Ernest. The woman's curiosity heightened at this.
"Oh? You're from—" She gestured her head upwards slightly, to which Gareas responded with a curt nod. "Who is it that you are looking for?" she continued, her voice slightly softer.
"A…a friend. A man by the name of Ernest Cuore?" The woman gave the green-eyed teen an empty stare, before shaking her head sadly.
"I have to say, I don't know of anyone by that name. We get a lot of nameless—" she tried to choose her next words carefully. "—bodies from up there. I'm really sorry," Gareas cast his head to the side, making eye contact with the ground. No…He'd been so close! It couldn't be-! He'd been so sure he'd find something…more than just…the body. Somewhere, there'd been a flicker of hope that he'd find Ernest, alive and well, and everything would be wonderful again. However, reality fell upon him like a heavy ton of metal, and it hurt. That little glimmer of hope was being extinguished. And then the woman began again, thoughtfully.
"Though…There is someone you may want to see, if you're trying to at least find the…remains of this young man. Another one, from up there, was found, and maybe he has some connection to your friend? Though it might not be of much help, he doesn't remember anything…" Her last words were lost to Gareas. So there was still hope to find Ernest's remains? Well, that was better than never laying his eyes upon Ernest again, never having his final goodbye. The chance had been ripped from him before, but maybe…
"Who is this?" Gareas asked, urgently. The woman looked shocked at his abruptness, but nodded her head.
"He's staying with a family that owns the horse ranch, down that way." She pointed down the street, Gareas vaguely remembering the young boy having chosen that direction as well. His eyes lingered down that way for a moment, skepticism drowned out by longing, the latter prevailing in the end. He turned back to the woman.
"I think I may try that," he stated simply. "Thanks." It was a small one, but Gareas had taken another step closer to putting this ordeal to a close.
The Goddesses. She'd always thought about them in the back of her mind, always pushing the memory farther back when it began to creep into the center of her consciousness. Sometimes it was better to forget. But she couldn't let it slip completely; she could never live with herself if she did that.
It was highly ironic Angel had been the one to call forth the memory once again. But this time, it was far more vivid than the other times, and was harder to push away. It may not have been the worst thing to remember visibly, unlike the memories of soldiers and war, but it was certainly the saddest thing that had happened to her in her life. Since then, she'd tried to rebuild herself around her new circumstances, and had been doing quite well…until Angel mentioned the Goddesses.
Had Angel had something to do with them? That time? Kyla shook her head, drawing her knees up further towards her chest. Angel didn't know what he was talking about…
But it did make sense. Kyla didn't want to accept that. Ever since that time, years ago, she'd only been able fear, hate, and marvel at the Goddesses all at once. Absently, she stretched out her hand in front of her face, flexing it slowly, as if grasping at something, like that day…
"Brother!" the cry was lost in the fray, swallowed up by the wind. "Mama!" But neither could hear her, and the latter was out of sight. But distantly, she could still see her younger sibling, marveling at the being that had come to save them. Why did he have to wander away? Even if the being was there to save them, she couldn't help but feel resent, as it drew her brother away from her, her mother already lost.
Her blue eyes flew wide open in panic as a white metallic hand reached out to her brother, and for moment, she feared it was going to kill him. She lost sight of the boy as the crowds throbbing about her pushed her away.
"Rei!" was the young girl's last desperate cry, until all of her vision of the scene was blotted out by the moving bodies as people hurried to get away.
Kyla shuddered involuntarily, running her hands up and down her forearms. So many years ago…she didn't even know what had become of her brother and her mother. Sometimes, she wondered what would have happened if the Goddesses hadn't existed…
Then we would all be killed by VICTIM, came her dull thought in response. But she couldn't help but blame the beings for her loss that day. There was nothing else she could do…
A knock on her door made her jump, her mouth opening in a silent yelp from being shaken so suddenly from such deep thoughts. She turned her head towards the door, studying its wooden surface for a moment to collect herself before inviting the visitor inside.
"Come in," she answered, her voice growing slightly more cheerful in comparison to her sullen thoughts. The door creaked open uncertainly, revealing it was Angel before the young man even entered. The blonde was always so timid, even after staying with them for as long as he had. She smiled fondly at him, happy to have someone to talk to. "Angel! Wh—" The look on Angel's face betrayed that he had something important to discuss with her. Her smile dissipated, and she regarded him seriously. "What is it?" Angel chewed lightly on his bottom lip for a moment, and then began.
"Do you…remember this morning? When I asked you about the Goddesses?" Kyla nodded slowly, faintly wondering what he was getting at now. "I think I might've…I can't explain it really. It's almost as if I was one, and wasn't all at once. That's the only memory that returned to me this morning. What does that mean?" Kyla lowered her head, breathing a sigh.
"The Goddesses have pilots…maybe you were one of them," she suggested. The bed she'd been sitting on dipped as a new weight was added on, and she looked up to see Angel staring at her, still wanting to say more.
"Maybe I was…but," He paused, unsure of how to continue. Kyla unfolded her legs, tossing them over the side of the bed to regard Angel fully. "But, I'd rather…I want to stay here, instead of going back. If that's what I was, than surely, this must be better?" Kyla's eyes were wide, as she read Angel with uncertainty. What was he saying? Did he want to throw his whole life away to stay with this new one? That was crazy. He didn't know if this was truly better. But…
But she couldn't argue with herself that she didn't want to lose him to the Goddesses. She'd already lost her brother, her mother…she didn't want to lose her friend too. Maybe it was selfish, but she couldn't help but feel any other way. And it was what he wanted…
"Angel…" she could feel the tingling of moisture hanging in her eyes, and she smiled. "Of course. Of course you can stay." Maybe it was wrong, but at the same time, it felt so right…
The Goddesses cannot have everything I love. Rei…I will try to hold onto this one…
Angel was almost unable to recall the image, but he could see it, blurry and far away, two somber green eyes, wanting nothing more than to be accepted, and yet facing rejection. A part of Angel felt he'd betrayed those eyes. But…he had know idea whose they were, and no idea who he had betrayed.
[1] Why did I even put a number? Oh well. Does this dude have a real name? The one that talks to Teela a lot? Well, I have now named or re-named him Masaki. Go me. Power to the toasters. *slinks away*
Author's Note: *sniffs* Upon the completion of this chapter, I realized that Graeas/Ernest fanfiction has been dwindling. I am very upset. But other than that, I am also upset about Sora's account of the OAV relayed to me. But I won't spoil you, even though I've been by Sora…but it was willingly. *coughs*
Pinku: Wow…this is a record! Only 4 months since your last update on this one!
Lorelei: *stares* Holy crap! It's true! I'm so ba~ad! Hehehe…Well, anyway, I hope this installment was to your liking. It seems I've more work to do. *weeps* Console me, Chemistry is being horrible to me!
Pinku: No one's here to console you…*sigh*
Lorelei: *sniff* Oh yes, and if you can't tell, I'm really making an honest attempt at an interesting plot! I am! *worries* I'm not great at that…
Pinku: I think—
Lorelei: WELL I THINK THAT IS IT. ^_^
Pinku: …pocky for your thoughts? And I mean pocky for me?