Disclaimer: Saint Seiya is the property of Masami Kurumada, Toei Productions (anime) and Shueisha.

The Aftermath

The thought of being back in Japan was far from exhilarating. He had been living in America for over a year now. Although the feeling of belonging somewhere was one he had yet to experience, he had never felt as comfortable any place else. Maybe it was the spaciousness of everything, maybe it was the Californian weather, maybe it was that people's reserve there — as opposed to in Japan — seemed to stem more from personal convictions than from social conventions. Or maybe it was just that in San Diego he was incalculably far from it all.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. Six years was a long time. In six years, he had fought a war against the Sanctuary, then a war against Poseidon, then a war against Hades, then a war against the Olympic Gods, then a war against resurrected Titans — not to mention several occasional confrontations against the likes of Abel or Eris, and other equally insane nemeses. How very ironic that, back in his new home, he had only grown old enough to drink a couple of months ago.

Six years was definitely a very long time.

Since there had been peace, he had not seen any of them, except of course his brother. He sometimes meant to: he once bought a ticket to Japan, only to return it a week later; and when Shiryu got married, he called to congratulate him and actually cried on the phone, repeatedly stating that he was incredibly sorry, but he just could not go back. They all had moved on, in one way or another, but the difference with Ikki was that he had begun to drift away much earlier. He had begun that night, millennia ago, when a scared little girl with tears streaming down her face had mistaken gratitude for love, and kissed him.

Naturally, she was the person he had not seen in the longest time. In fact, since the end of the Holy War against Hades, he had not spoken to her, and had hardly even seen her at all. He developed the habit of making timely and brief appearances, saving the day and then leaving unnoticed, before she could try to thank him. In the past four years, Saori Kido had slowly faded into just a memory — occasionally a face on the television —, and he liked it this way.

In the beginning he had avoided the saints and the mansion because they would lead to her. Now, however, he just did it out of custom. The kiss, the fight, the goodbye, those had all been too long ago to matter. He was not running from her anymore, but he was still running: it made him dizzy to stay still. When the wars were finally over, Shiryu got married, Seiya moved to Greece to be with his sister, Hyoga started a school in his village, Shun went to university. They all had found something. Ikki had found nothing but a void, a void that he feared would suck him in the wink of an eye if he ever let his guard down. So he just stayed away from the eye of the hurricane, even if it meant not seeing the people who, at the end of the day, were still the most important in his life. He never realized that, in his urge to escape that void, he had been drawn into another.

When he heard the sound of Saori's voice on the phone, two days before, he thought he was going to be sick. For a split second, he was fifteen years old and madly in love with her again. But reality knocked soon enough, and he felt a tremendous, not entirely justified hostility towards the incarnated goddess, and not because she was the messenger: he already knew. He had felt it, when it happened. He had been waiting to see what she would do. She told him they were having a ceremony, a catholic funeral. He told her to go to hell. Ikki could not stand the idea of his body being slowly lowered to the ground, mourners parading behind his coffin, grieving him by the book. He was a saint and he should be buried like a saint, at the site of his death, nothing but a cross with his name carved on it to mark the grave. Saori argued that he had wanted it to be that way — Ikki thought that was crap. She could have her circus if she wanted, though, he said, as long as she did not count on him. She said she was sorry, and hung up.

He had told her, and even told himself, that he would not come; however, here he was, standing a few yards away, far enough that the preacher's words were lost in the sound of the leaves being shaken by the cold wind. The winter in Japan was awfully cold that year, but he did not need a jacket: saints were never cold. Ikki sighed. It was hateful to see their pasts stepped over like that; to see them all stand there and pretend that the deceased had lived an ordinary life, that they were ordinary people, that theirs was ordinary grief. He did not understand how the others could have approved of this. But still, here he was.

After all, this was his brother's funeral.

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil..."

The preacher's words made her think of Hades, and she shivered. Maybe this was wrong after all. To give Shun a Christian funeral, to have him buried, gravestone, epitaph, "the whole nine yards" — Ikki's words hammered against her head like drums. A circus, he had called it. Even Seiya's voice when she reached him in Greece sounded skeptical. "Are you sure that's appropriate, Saori?"

She could not be sure, but she had tried her best. Hyoga, a catholic, who had been Shun's best friend longer than anyone could remember, told her that the young man had not only manifested a growing interest in his religion, but had, in one rather morbid conversation, explicitly conveyed his desire to be buried as a Christian. What could she do, other than abide? And besides, Shun had all sorts of friends now — friends from school, friends from his life after Hades. Did those people not deserve a goodbye too? In the end, she and Hyoga had persuaded everyone, even a reluctant Seiya, that it was the best thing to do; everyone except Ikki.

She had not heard his voice in four years when the Foundation intelligence tracked him down in California. When he answered the phone, she thought she was going to pass out. His voice was deeper, huskier. He did not sound happy to hear from her at all, and she had a feeling that a part of it had nothing to do with his loss. When she mentioned the Christian funeral, he yelled at her and told her he was no going to watch his brother's death be made a spectacle of. She felt horrible. There was no one's approval she wanted as much as Ikki's. Not only had he not granted it — and when had he ever? —, but he had made it very clear that he was going to exclude himself entirely. Saori, who was probably responsible for his prolonged absence, would now be to blame for his never saying goodbye.

Ikki said he wanted Shun to be buried like a saint. Saori could understand that, but the truth was that he had not died like a saint. The saint of Andromeda had died in an appalling car crash, driving to a friend's beach house in a weekend. It was so surreal: five years of risking his life against odds so slim that they could hardly be calculated, and after only one year of the long-awaited peace, he died. The Fates must be laughing now, she thought, and this time the joke is on us. She wiped off a stubborn tear with the back of her hand, and Seiya squeezed her hand harder. When she looked at him, he smiled. She smiled back.

He was so solid.

She was still not sure when to let him know. It has been her secret so long that she could hardly believe it anymore, and the memory of those visits to Zeus's palace struck her very much as her own fancy.

However, her secret was real. She had a choice. But it was a choice she was reluctant to make. First there was the war, the endless war. She could not give it up then, when there was so much at stake. If she died in the hands of Zeus, Athena would not return until nearly 250 years later; if she succeeded, Athena would again become a little girl, incapable of leading the saints in the wars against her fellow gods. In any case, the Earth would be left vulnerable, and that was not a price anyone could afford.

Once, before the battle against Arthemis broke, they had had a quiet moment alone, and she had asked, without prologue, "Seiya, would you wait for me?" She could vividly remember how his bewilderment quickly turned into understanding, how he had stared at her affectionately for second on end, and how grave he had sounded when he finally answered, "I already am." So she waited herself. But, like a bird caged so long that it can no longer fly, she seemed to have forgotten the taste of freedom. When the war was finally over, she still could not bring herself to tell him. She would always put it off a little longer, waiting for the perfect moment, for the perfect words. How do you tell the love of your life that the wait is finally over? How do you finally step into the role you have been rehearsing for a lifetime? Saori did not know. The night when Seiya came to break the news of his departure to Greece, where Seika and the Sanctuary awaited him, she was almost relieved. She would have time to prepare herself.

She had been preparing for almost a year.

The young lady looked around. Shun's friends were numerous, but the preacher's words sounded against a background of silence that made her feel lonely. There stood Hyoga, tears running down his face as he held flowers that were to be deposited on the grave; Shiryu, dressed in a very elegant suit, his forever-closed eyes strangely revealing of his grief, the young Shunrei wrapped around his arm. Then she noticed someone standing in the distance, a tall dark man in aviator sunglasses. Dressed in a white button shirt and jeans, unshaved, eyes hid behind the black lenses, he was not immediately resembling of anyone she had ever met. But somehow she knew instantly.

"Ikki?"

"Athena."

The saint noticed that she shook violently when he said the name. He was glad.

"I didn't think you were coming."

"It's my brother's funeral. Whether or not you've made a spectacle of it."

"Ikki, I wouldn't have done this if—"

"Oh, don't justify yourself to me," he scorned. "I don't suppose I have a right to anything here. I'm just the bastard who left, aren't I?"

"Don't say that. You were the person he loved the most."

"Only for lack of option."

Ikki instantly regretted saying that. Not because it was not true, but because it was.

"Shun never resented you for going away, Ikki."

He did not answer.

"How long have you been in Tokyo?"

"Long enough."

"We're headed for the mansion now."

"How delightful," he snorted.

The thought of going back to the mansion brought him the memory of his last visit to it. Say goodbye, princess. Say goodbye and turn around. She had cried, that afternoon; cried that she must to let him go. Saori took a deep breath, and closed her eyes slowly. He could see that her face had been washed with tears. Opening them again, she said, "I wish you'd come with us. Hyoga's going to go through Shun's room and gather his things to decide what's to be done of them. Now that you're here, I guess you'll probably want to assist him with that."

"So I'm being offered a position as Hyoga's assistant? No, thanks. Very flattered," he raised his hand, sarcastically apologetical, "but no, thanks."

"Give yourself time to grieve, Ikki." She was breathing heavily.

"I don't have time. None of us does. All I can do is keep my chin up and be strong."

"You don't have to be strong. Not right now."

"Only the strong survive."

"We're human. We don't live by the laws of beasts."

He made a dramatic pause, and answered, "Maybe not you."

"Ikki..." she whispered. Suddenly, she circled his neck with her arms and pressed her body against his. Caught by surprise, he felt his hands trip to her waist reflexively. She was... soft. Soft like no woman he had ever touched. She was a woman now; every last trace of the girl was gone. "I've missed you, Ikki."

He pushed her, somewhat abruptly, and looked away. Hyoga was speaking to the priest. A few feet away, Seiya talked to Shiryu and Shunrei, glance occasionally drifting towards them. Saori had probably told him that she wanted privacy.

"Ikki?" He fixed his gaze at her. Her big blue eyes addressed his directly, and she had a look of helplessness in her face. "Will you come?"

Hello, everyone. :) I'm sorry it took me so long to write this one; I've been working like crazy lately and I haven't had much time for fanfiction. But, well, here it is, and hopefully chapter 11 will be delivered in much less time...

So, you guys thought I was gonna kill Seiya, huh:) Not at all. What fun would it be without the first love lurking around, casting the shadow of doubt:) I feel sorry for Shun, though. I do terrible things to him in order to get Ikki to come round...

Anonymous reviewers Mariana (you from Brazil:)) and Fire-chan, thank you ever so much for taking the time to give me some feedback! Fire-chan, I loved getting your reviews, and it killed me that I couldn't answer them. At least I can thank you — if you're still there, that is. :)

Well, enough said. Thanks for reading, don't go away!