Every time she woke, the first thing Reika thought was how her own bedroom had become so unfamiliar. The gentle morning sun shone through her window and light, pale curtains, casting her room in a soft, pleasant glow. Under heavy blankets, Reika didn't feel at all the cold of winter, save for a bite of frost deep in her chest, a chill that ran over her veins and her body when she attuned herself to her own heartbeat. It didn't feel bad. Truth was, Reika didn't feel a thing at all. The freeze was just there, and she had grown used to it.
Just as she had grown used to the comfort of her home again. She didn't have soft pillows and mattresses in Last Light, unless she asked Hosshiwa for those. There, she didn't want to linger in bed, either. There she felt the flow of time, there it seemed to pass like it didn't when she was home. Here she didn't feel the urge to rise early, so when she woke and saw the sunshine, all she wanted was to close her eyes again, to sleep a while longer.
Reika didn't, though. She understood she would not stay in Morgenluft forever, so spending all her time there abed was something she'd surely regret when she was on the road to Last Light again. With the Brothers of Winter gone, their season was mild, and the snows had begun to melt into something more manageable. Wolfrun had sent his men to clear the roads out of the city, and Majorina had made it clear that, despite all that had happened, she didn't want the Precure to stay in her city for longer than necessary. Reika couldn't blame her. The battle was won, but much of Fabelpfalz was gone, and its surroundings were still frozen. Beauty's doing, and there was no way of hiding it. No point, either. There was only one thing she had to hide, now.
She lifted her sleeve to see her veins and the black blood that flowed through them. It was a subtle thing, and now that she was no longer out in the cold, her skin has dark enough that the veins underneath it looked only like a dark blue. She closed and opened her hand, watching the movements of her muscles, the wrinkling of her skin. Her nails were still cracked, and her fingers were still bruised, but the wounds had closed, for the most part, and where they hadn't, bandages concealed what was beneath. Reika sighed, lifting her hand high above her own head.
She got up, put on her slippers, and looked around her bedroom. It wasn't exactly the same as it used to be, though as far as she could tell, nothing had changed. The house had been left abandoned for so long, with her family gone, and Reika returned to find it just as it had been left during the Death of the Stars, the night she was called to Fabelpfalz so that she could prepare herself to defend the city. Why did everything seem so different, then?
When the fighting was done, the Precure scoured Fabelpfalz and in its depths, behind hidden doors that Prince Pop didn't even know existed, they found the small cells where her family - and Miyuki's, Yayoi's, Akane's - were kept alongside other prisoners. Reika recognized some of them, though not by name. She had seen their faces before, a few of them in her old school. All were weak, emaciated, but the Bad End Kingdom's magic had been keeping them alive. They needed urgent care immediately, but in the moment, Reika found herself too numb and exhausted to fear. Her loved ones were not awake when they were brought outside, so Reika did not have to look them in the eye until after they had been cared for, and fed. Black and White, alongside Felice, had set up makeshift hospitals to tend to those who had been wounded during the long night, with help from Majorina and her followers.
Reika did not linger there. It brought her only pain to see what had happened to those people, to her family, so once she confirmed that they would live, that Iona would be fine, and that Nozomi's wounds would soon heal, she walked away to somewhere she could be alone.
She had enjoyed solitude in the past few days, in truth. She enjoyed waking up alone, and staying in her bedroom for a few minutes before finally heading out. She'd run her fingers along the walls and see that they were the same. The framed photographs placed upon her end table were the same, though Reika discovered them covered in dust when she returned home alongside her family. They all set to work, then, though of course there were friends who offered help. Her grandfather Soutarou gracefully refused the assistance. This was the Aoki residence, an old house of an old clan, and the Aokis had always cared for it. He was a proud man, her grandfather, and Reika loved him for it - though she wished he would be a bit kinder on his hips.
Though now her bedroom was pristine and smelled of lavender, when Reika first stepped back into it she found it odious, though not nearly as much as their kitchen and pantry, so fetid that Junnosuke nearly threw up right there and then. Reika had never seen her brother look quite like that. She wished she could laugh about his disgusted face and loss of composure, but when she remembered the sight she also recalled his gaunt face, and there was no joy to be found there. It did not feel like a homecoming, not on that first day. It felt like another in a long series of sorrows, finding their house in such a sad state. This triumph tasted bitter on Reika's tongue.
But now it was home again. She realized that just two mornings ago, when she woke and realized she'd be quite fine if she stayed in bed all day. She wanted to be selfish, to raise her voice and call her mother, to ask her to bring her food and to open the windows so that Reika could watch the sunset. She had such a good view from her bedroom. The Aokis were an important family in Morgenluft, and their house built upon a privileged location, on one of the highest points of the city. Reika had never appreciated that as much as she did the past few mornings.
Before she left her bedroom, she took one last look at her photographs. They made her smile with longing, but it was not an unwelcome feeling. Perhaps they made her feel a sad nostalgia, but now only they remained as proof of life before the stars went out. She saw a picture of her classmates, taken on the last day of school some years back. That was on the year Miyuki had moved to Morgenluft. Her smile dominated the picture, almost laughably so. Next to it was a closer, warmer picture, of the student council. The smiles there seemed softer, kinder, as all were friends. When it was taken, Reika had not yet been elected president. She wouldn't lead the council for long, of course, because soon her duties to the Red Rose would become overwhelming. But the memories were still sweet.
There were pictures of her family, too, and of her friends. Their first trips together, immortalized within those frames, or birthday parties. And, of course, when they became Precure together, the five smiling alongside Candy and Cure Gelato, who had been shamelessly absent during much of her education but had the decency to show up for a photo. Reika felt odd when she looked at that, so she turned the frame backwards, so that she'd not have to gaze upon it. The last photo she saw was of her and Nao as children. It was the one that made her cry when she saw it again. She wished she had more pictures of the two of them as they grew older, but Nao never wanted to be photographed. I look weird, she'd always use as an excuse, and Reika thought it'd be improper to insist. Now she regretted that she didn't. There wasn't much left that reminded her of Nao, and the emptiness gnawed at her.
She'd need new pictures someday, Reika thought. Of Nozomi and Iona, Makoto and Komachi, and Nagisa and Honoka too, of course, if they didn't mind. They were older than the rest of the Precure, so sometimes Reika felt a bit embarrassed to ask things of them, for fear of looking childish. As such she always kept some distance, but she figured that they would understand this request. Surely there still had to be working cameras nearby, and the magic that fed them still persisted. Majorland had those novelty cameras that used film, but they were just that: novelties.
After she got dressed, Reika made her way downstairs, and even before she got to the kitchen she was already greeted by the smell of fish and rice. Her brother and mother awaited her, already seated, and Shizuko set her daughter's food in front of Reika as she took her place, smiling. She had made green tea, too, still extremely hot, but that was the way Reika always liked it, and now the taste seemed stronger, and when she drank of it she felt the warmth fill her body, but only for a moment before she grew cold again. She didn't let it show that anything was wrong, though. Right now the most important thing was enjoying this return to normalcy. She still struggled to get over the joy of finding out her family was here, not kept hostage to the north like so many others. She had thought that was the case, after hearing from Akane that Nao's family was taken away.
"Father can't eat with us today," Junnosuke said. "He's helping the Hinos tidy up their restaurant, now that they got all their paperwork filed and received permission to reopen it. A lot of trouble, really, but I guess it's a relief that we're already back to observing laws and bureaucracy," Shizuko covered a chuckle with her sleeve. "Better than the alternative."
"Father should have told me," Reika grumbled. "Akane's family has always been good to me, and, besides… I haven't had the opportunity to talk to them yet."
The table grew silent. Junnosuke stared at his mother, hoping she'd have an answer for Reika, but she took an overly long sip of her tea before she faced Reika. Usually she admired the patient and demure nature of her mother, but now Reika really wanted a response. Father should have known she'd insist on giving the Hinos a hand.
"He did not want to wake you," she said. "You've fought so long already that he really wants you to only rest while you're here. He worries about you."
"I've forfeited repose when I became a Precure, mother," Reika said. It made Shizuko's eyes glint with melancholy, watering like melting ice. "For now I must fight. The evil that tore our world apart knows no rest. I know father worries because he loves me, but he must understand that being a Precure is as much an honor as it is a duty. I don't need to rest."
Her mother nodded slowly, with sorrowful understanding. Reika did want to rest, of course, she wanted to spend a month home doing nothing, drinking tea with father, watching mother paint, sparring with her brother and learning from her grandfather. She closed her hand into a fist, then opened it again and looked at her own veins. She had paid too great a price to not make use of this power as she promised herself. She drank the rest of her tea, then set the cup aside.
"He worried when you became a Precure, you know," said Shizuko. "Your father, I mean. He understood what it meant. He always did. He knew you'd leave home. Every parent knows that, but deep down we are torn between hoping you find your place in the world and praying you can stay with us forever. Your father left his family when he came to Morgenluft to live with me, you know. He understood what it meant to leave."
"I would never truly leave you," Reika said. "I would always come back. I returned after I left to fight alongside Moonlight, didn't I? I remember your relief when I returned."
"There was no fanfare," her brother said. "You just knocked on the door and walked in. Mother wanted to yell at you for not sending news once the battle was won," he said. Shizuko didn't yell, of course. She was too busy holding her daughter.
"Only our grandfather wasn't there to receive me," Reika said. "He was away, praying. I didn't expect that from him. I looked up to him during my whole childhood, so I never even thought that he'd be able to feel fear…"
"Not for himself," said Shizuko. "My father was not that sort of person. But he always prayed for the ones he loved. There were times, as a child, where I'd wake up in the middle of the night and look for him, only to find him at our shrine. I don't know who he prayed to, he never taught me that, but he prayed. Mostly for our mother, who worked away from Morgenluft while Soutarou raised their children here."
Reika asked for some more tea, and saw her own smile reflected on her cup. She missed this. It felt good to come back and see that this was all still the same.
"Where is our grandfather, by the way?" She asked, looking to Junnosuke. He turned his face away, and tapped his fingers on the table. "Why the secrecy?"
"Let me tell her, mother," he asked Shizuko, and she sighed. "Reika never cared for surprises."
"Fine," she said. "Your grandfather went out to look for a bakery that's actually still open. We… Have not had much time to get familiar with this new Morgenluft," that, of course, was an understatement, but Reika understood they'd rather not talk about it. "To buy a cake for you."
"A cake?" Shizuko nodded. "Are you just celebrating that we're all back together?
Her mother and brother both stared at her like she had just lost her mind. With the way their eyes widened, Reika feared for a second that they could be right.
"Your birthday, Reika," her brother said. "It's coming up soon, but you'll probably leave before it, so we figured we'd celebrate before."
"Oh," Reika had totally forgotten about it. Of all things, this had definitely not been on her mind as a concern for a long time now. She had forgotten what it meant for time to pass. "Sorry. I should have remembered."
"I guess the Precure are just so busy that you end up forgetting your own age?" Her mother managed to smile.
Reika returned the gesture. Silence befell the table afterwards, and Reika finished her food. Kanade and Seika's cooking at Last Light might be better than her mother's on a technical level, but Reika knew well enough which she preferred.
There wasn't much to talk once they were done eating, in truth, so Reika only helped her mother clean the dishes. She wished she had good stories to share, and not ones that were so full of sadness. She couldn't say much about her journey to the Trump Kingdom, and when she brought up Last Light, Shizuko was worried by the conditions of the village, wanted to be certain that her daughter could eat well there, and sleep warm, and even hinted that she'd like it if Reika stayed home. She understood that she couldn't, of course. She understood that Reika was no longer only her daughter, but Cure Beauty now, and that she wanted to keep fighting not out of rigid duty but because her heart wouldn't accept anything else.
The only happy tales she had involved her new friendships, and her meeting with Yayoi in the Phoenix Tower. Reika hadn't seen them in the past week, so focused she was on enjoying her time with her family, but she wished her mother would meet them, if only to ease her worries. Her father, too, would be able to rest easy if he learned of how dependable they were. Shizuko told her that although Reika did not smile much as of late, her face brightened and her lips curved when she spoke of Nozomi, of Iona, Makoto and Komachi. In Last Light, Reika told her, they became my family. After Reika said that, her mother stopped trying to convince her to leave Last Light and stay in Morgenluft for good.
Though her mother didn't see it, Reika realized that as she handled the dishes and rinsed them, the water began to freeze when it touched the tips of her fingers. Only small parts of it, and only briefly, but enough to worry Reika. Right now, maintaining control was paramount. With Joker and Pierrot gone, her main fears in regards with this power were alleviated, but she still didn't understand it entirely, and would not risk her life trusting the word of Joker.
Right then, with flawless timing, there was a knock upon their front door. Reika excused herself, leaving only some cups left for her mother to wash, and with hurried steps - but not running, that was improper - she walked out into the gentle snows to greet Kotoha at the wooden gates.
The girl greeted her with a bow that Reika found overly polite and rehearsed. Prince Pop had told Reika that, sometime in the past, Kotoha must have convinced herself that this was how the people of Märchenland greet each other, and Pop could never quite put it into her head that she was mistaken. Reika had really not expected that: Cure Felice seemed like a mature young lady, but Kotoha Hanami was younger than Reika expected. Though she supposed that was hardly uncommon: we all look much different under pressure, she though. Not all for the better. She bit her tongue, and greeted Kotoha, invited her in.
Shizuko waved at Kotoha from the window, but it was not inside that the two Precure were going. They circled around the house, headed to the gardens. Kotoha had found the house fascinating the first time she had come, its architecture a mixture of classical northern styles with its wooden structures and sliding doors, and with that of Märchenland and Majorland, its tall houses and thick walls made to withstand winter. Reika had grown here, so to her it was only common, but she understood that it was unusual even in Morgenluft, so to someone who came from across the Crystal Ocean it had to be quite the sight.
The gardens looked now like only dirt with white patches of frost. Reika remembered all the flowers that grew there, the red roses that fed on snow to turn pink, the lilies that during the snowy nights would shift to take hold of snowflakes and preserve them, displaying them in the next morning. Her father had even brought some of the bell flowers of Majorland who rang under the sunrise, but few of them thrived there. Majorland was cold, but Märchenland was the Heart of Winter. Still is, Reika thought.
"I see your mother has planted some seeds," Kotoha said. "She is the one who cares for the garden, no?"
"She is," said Reika. She was unaware of any seeds. Shizuko had told her nothing. "How do you know, though?"
"That it was your mother? Only a guess," she grinned. "I always assume that gardeners are mothers, actually, even if I'm wrong very often. My mother was one, of course. She had to be," Reika took a second to realize what Kotoha meant.
"Ah, right," she said. Not all fairies were the same, and Kotoha happened to be from a lineage that was not birthed but blossomed from sacred flowers. Reika found it quite curious. "Mother didn't tell me anything about growing the garden again."
"I can tell from looking at the soil," she said. "I can feel the sprout of life," she kneeled, and placed the palm of her hand atop a patch of dirt. "Ah! Camellia and osmanthus. Osmanthus doesn't thrive in winter, though…"
"Ours do," said Reika. "In Märchenland our flora has drank some of the magic that permeates the lands, and can live through all but the harshest winters."
"I did not know that," Kotoha said, and her curious stare made her eyes look huge. She looked a little bit goofy, Reika had to admit, but she was a good girl, and reliable. "If you'd like, my magic can help your garden grow again."
"No need," Reika said, though she appreciated Kotoha's supportive nature. "Mother enjoys watching them grow. She says that working on them helps her keep her mind always clear. Knowing her, she didn't tell me so she could surprise me with a great garden if I return."
Kotoha didn't fail to notice her wording, and frowned.
"You will return," she said. "Don't talk like that."
"Sorry," Reika said, walking up to the pond near what used to be a rosebush but was now only withered leaves. Whenever her thoughts drifted to the doom and gloom that were made so cozy by winter's breath, she wondered if those thoughts bore the mark not of her reason but of her curse.
Reika sat by the still waters, invited Kotoha to take her side. Though the grass was sick and ugly, Kotoha sat upon it with care, hands resting demurely on her own knees. She looked so tiny like that, and perhaps that was her intention.
"Has there been any change from yesterday?" Kotoha asked the question she asked each day. It was not the most helpful of questions, and Reika often didn't know what change was relevant enough to warrant mention.
"It's still the same," Reika rolled her sleeve and showed her pale arm to Kotoha. The girl took hold of her arm, her fingers warm and delicate, and pressed upon Reika's veins. She had no idea what use that even was, what that would show. Still, Kotoha looked closely in a careful inspection.
"Well, the blood is the same," said Kotoha. "I don't feel any sort of foul energies other than, well, what I was feeling before. You're not getting worse."
"That's good," said Reika. Kotoha looked at her with some concern. She hesitated to speak, but Reika insisted.
"And… Emotionally? Do you still feel the same way?"
"How do I know which of my feelings are mine and which are the curse's?" She shrugged. "I feel sad about certain things, and I miss my friends. I think about Akane a lot."
"I don't know if that means anything," Kotoha said. "Miyuki told me that she felt herself change in some ways. She felt rage and hopelessness she could only satisfy by allowing the curse to claim her body. But Yayoi is fine. Afraid, but fine."
"Is she afraid of anything in particular?"
"Of hurting someone again," Kotoha said, but she avoided Reika's gaze. Her face was a poor mask: she was hiding something.
"There's something else," said Reika. Kotoha sighed.
"She's afraid people will know her part in those… Unfortunate events. Thus far it's been concealed through a great deal of effort and coercion. It has to be kept a secret, and Yayoi understands the risk. If it becomes public that the Precure conspired to feed the populace of Morgenluft to a monster…"
"There were no Precure conspiring," Reika took offense to the word. Mostly because she saw truth in it.
"You know what Majorina says, though. You know why she wants you gone. Few are aware of the secret of Miyuki and Yayoi's involvement. And even fewer know about you. Only the two of us."
"It has to stay that way," Reika said. "No one can know."
"Do you not trust Nozomi and Iona?"
"I trust them more than I've ever trusted almost any other person. But I'm scared, too. I don't want them to see I did this to myself. I don't want them to think I'm…" She didn't want to say the words. They didn't need to be said, anyways.
"They wouldn't think that, would they?"
"I don't know," Reika admitted. "But I'm still afraid, and when I fear, I tell myself I'm a fool for not trusting them, and an evil, vile friend."
"Are you sure nothing changed?" Kotoha asked again.
"I'm not sure. My powers seem to be stronger now, and I struggle to keep them in check, but I know it only takes effort. But my heart… Is my fear natural and wise or are my weaknesses being preyed upon? I can't know," Reika realized then that her fingers were touching the surface of the pond, and around the the water had turned to ice, and it enveloped her fingers. She had to break the frost to move her hand again. "Yes, something is wrong. Perhaps this is not as under my control as I would have liked. It's why I need your help. I know your magic can keep this curse at bay. It has to."
"I will try my best," said Kotoha. She took Reika's hand, and felt its glacial cold. Her eyes were full of fear.
"I'd like to say I don't feel the cold at all," said Reika, "but that's not true. I do feel it. But it doesn't hurt. It feels good like it never did before. I still enjoy the warmth of my bed but less than I did as a child asking her father to tuck her in."
"Why did you do this?" Kotoha still didn't understand. To Reika, she didn't seem particularly willing to try. "You knew it was dangerous. You knew it was dark magic. So why?"
Reika really wished she didn't have to look at Kotoha, at her eyes that burned with judgment. If she could she'd stare upwards, to the shifting clouds and the crude sunlight. But she had put her trust on this girl. She had to at least be able to face her.
"My weakness and lapse of judgment cost me my friend. I can't forget that, and I can't stop blaming myself. Everyone tells me not, but I can't deny my heart. If I were stronger I wouldn't lose anyone I love. It felt selfish of me to refuse the opportunity to keep them safe. I only needed a bit more power. Whatever the cost. Because I know I will be righteous with it. I can't afford not to, knowing the price. I can't falter now."
"Reika…" Kotoha blinked slowly. "You remind me of…"
"Hm?" Kotoha didn't say anything else. She only stood there, eyes flickering in enigmatic worry.
"It doesn't matter. You're right. You can't afford to do wrong now. I'll stay by your side for as long as you need me, if you promise to do as I say, and if you promise to let me try to cure you once your friend is safe again."
"I promise," Reika said, her words so sincere that she fooled even herself until she realized she was already imagining what else she could do with her power, already picturing herself in front of Nao, wherever she was, taking her hand and leading her back home. She remembered Nao's face, and her smile, how she had always been there for Reika, and how she ought to return the favor. Only then did Reika feel afraid again.
Of course it was never the power that tempted her. She closed and opened her hand, and her eyes never left the black lines that ran down her arm, and for a second she felt something reach her heart, but it was gone before she could name it.
Working under Mirage meant rising before the sun, and in the midst of winter Riko found that to be a less appealing prospect than she had imagined. She shrunk under her blankets as she tried to find the courage to rise. In the end it was always fear she found, and it was what got her up: the fear of being late, of disappointing Cure Mirage. The fear of, after all this time and effort, not becoming a Precure. She promised, Riko thought, but she also understood that being a Precure was a duty, not merely a privilege that would earn her the power to do as she wished, the power to save Mirai. She knew that, and knew she had to prove herself capable.
She couldn't complain about her accommodations, at the very least. She had the same quarters as any Precure would be given, and she couldn't complain about the menial tasks she performed under Mirage's tutelage, because it was the responsibility of all the Cures in the Phoenix Tower to care for it and its conservation. All but the Rosehearted, of course. That would not be, strictly speaking, proper. Even Sorcielle had to help sweep the floors from time to time, though she'd just wave her hand and her magic would take care of everything. Then she'd retreat back to either her quarters or to Mirage's office. In the past days, Riko hadn't seen her start a conversation with a single person in the Tower, save for Mirage and Riko, and even then she treated the latter with nothing past cold courtesy.
No one was awake when Riko stepped out of the warmth of her bedroom. Sometimes Cure Katyusha would be up in the early hours of the morning, but not today. Riko felt a little uncomfortable in her presence: she had been the closest thing to an assistant Mirage had before Riko's arrival, though she had never said a single word of complaint about being replaced. She didn't speak much, that was the truth, and her stare seemed curiously devoid of emotion most of the time. Mirage had explained to her that Katyusha had been that way since Phantom, the Precure hunter, had crossed paths with her. Riko preferred not to ask for details.
In the kitchens of the Phoenix Tower, Riko took some bread, bacon and coffee for Mirage. The coffee was the most important of it all, of course. Often she'd enter Mirage's office and find the Rosehearted asleep atop her books and papers. If she so desired, Riko figured she could take a peek at the documents and figure out what they might say, and her natural curiosity made it so that she seriously needed to develop some self-control. It was a bad habit of hers, to glance at things she wasn't meant to. That was how Riko found out, years back, from reading her notebook, that Emily was embarrassingly enamored with Jun, and even tried her hand at some of the most atrocious poetry ever committed to paper. She felt a bit guilty reading something she shouldn't have, but she did always hope for the best for Emily, and as if to repay her, bought for her birthday a book of poems penned by notorious romanticists of Majorland.
She never found out what came out of that, of course. A week later, Emily and Jun were headed to Verone, and Riko to forsaken ruins where she sought the future and the powers that had been denied of her. She felt her cheeks grow warm and red just by remembering that the whole reason she was snooping around Emily's notes in the first place was because she had always been thorough in regards to magic. The Verone entrance exams were coming up and Riko still wasn't capable of performing even the simplest spells, even when the theory was perfectly clear to her. She felt so pathetic, but she didn't want to ask for help from her peers. She didn't want to admit her failures. In the end they became undeniable, and the gates of Verone were closed to her.
But Mirage had opened her door. Riko had a chance, one last hope of becoming the person she was always meant to be, someone who did justice to the name Izayoi. She knocked on the door and stepped inside Mirage office, she found her already awake, which was never a guarantee. Riko preferred not having to wake her up, so she was just fine with this. They greeted each other with a good morning, and even exchanged the pleasantries of asking how the other slept. Riko had been tired from all her work last night, she told Mirage, so she fell asleep quite easily. But the Rosehearted had spent all night awake.
"Perhaps I should ask you to stay a bit longer with me," Mirage said with a smile. "You are quite the help."
"You flatter me," Riko said.
Mirage chuckled at Riko's empty politeness. She had already asked her to be a bit less formal, a bit more open, but it was still hard for Riko to do so. She was afraid of saying the wrong word, of ever sounding like a fool. Besides, she preferred to listen rather than speak, a skill she regrettably found lacking in most people, so she measured her words.
"Are you sure it's okay for you to not sleep?" Riko asked. She figured an assistant should care for the Rosehearted's well-being. Mirage always smiled when she did so. Riko figured that meant she was doing something right, or, at the very least, she was being foolish in an entertaining way.
"No, I'm not sure," Mirage said, "but there's work to be done. Yes, there's always work," her eyes drifted to the Crystal Mirror. "I've managed to learn so much already. I need to write down all the prophecies it reveals, and to use whatever new information I can find to further analyze old writings."
"You seem to be having an easy time with the Mirror," Riko said. "Most legends say that it's hard to decipher its secrets."
"Cautious study is the key to making legends look foolish. I already studied much about the Crystal Mirror, so, really, when I started working with it, it was as familiar to me as an old friend would be."
"Will you need any help with it today?" Riko asked. Mirage shook her head.
"I'm afraid that today I'll be asking for your help with something considerably less interesting," she said, then got up. Riko hurried to place Mirage's breakfast upon her desk before she returned, but found it difficult to find any space in the middle of that mess. She settled for balancing the plate atop the coffee cup, and while she did it, she shuddered as she imagine herself spilling something on the frail-looking scrolls or the carefully noted books. Nothing happened, but Riko kept looking behind her to make sure everything was fine.
Mirage dragged a huge box with her and placed it next to her table. It was filled to the brim with unsorted, crumpled pieces of paper and tiny notes. Riko felt anxious just looking at the damn thing.
"Not all Rosehearteds have been a model of care and organization, much less basic consideration for those after them," Mirage vented. "It seems that too many of them have been remiss in some of their duties. Oh, it's always easy to boss around the other Precure of the Red Rose, but apparently it's impossible to keep organized records for their successors to actually understand the plans of our Rose."
"That seems troublesome," Riko said. "Note-taking is an essential part of anything you wish to do right."
"Well said. I'm trying to make sense of the writings of Cure Lucent, but…" She gave the box a spiteful look and groaned. "A terrible writer, this Cure Lucent, and just as terrible of a ruler, but possibly one of the last Precure that had a connection to the Eternal Golden Crown."
"The Crown is real?"
"My dear Riko," Mirage ran her fingers over Riko's hair, then took her seat, "after seeing the Crystal Mirror, do you still doubt the treasures of the Precure. You've been around Lady Sorcielle for too long, I think, some of her skepticism has rubbed off on you.
"W-We're not close at all," Riko said, wondering why she'd refute that and not the accusation of her skepticism. "A crown with all the knowledge in the world is a hard thing to believe in. And all the stories about it all mention that it's lost, which has always struck me as extremely convenient."
"It is real," said Mirage, "and it used to be in our possession. You see, the Crown of Roses is stored safely in our Relic Vault, and the official story inside the Red Rose, the one we tell for people who can't mind their own business and just have to try and uncover everything," curiously, Riko found that Mirage sounded as if she was actually referring to someone in particular, "is that the Crown of Roses is the Golden Crown, but brittle, dilapidated. It's not the whole truth. The Crown of Roses is very frail, yes, so much that I wouldn't dare examine it closely, but the records I've studied led me to believe that it makes no sense to believe we still hold the Golden Crown."
"Who holds it, then?"
"It's what I'm trying to figure out," Mirage said, then pointed back at the box and the mess inside. "Cure Lucent tried to crown herself Rose Queen even though the real Rose Queen, Cure Blue Sky, already reigned in…" She rose an eyebrow, as if expecting a response from Riko."
"The Blue Sky Kingdom."
"How perceptive. Yes, that was a mess. To put it mildly. Lucent threatened our stability, and thus a band of Precure conspired to get rid of her. She fled, and of course she took the Crown with her. And that's the last we know of the Crown."
"You think she wrote down where she was headed to?"
"If she did that, then she's a complete moron, but it would also make my job easier," Mirage said. She found the notion entertaining. "No, things are never easy. I'm seeking her records in hopes of discovering any contacts she might have had, someone who might shelter her after she escaped."
"You'll look for the Crown, then?"
"Eventually, perhaps," Cure Mirage said. "I'm not hopeful that I'll even be able to find its whereabouts, but recently we've located both the Dragon Glaive, held by the Selfish Princess, and the Crystal Mirror, so I wished to at least try and locate the Crown. We need it. Lucent has done us a tremendous disservice by running off with it. If we can't even protect our Sacred Treasures then who can trust us to guard the world? Clearly we've failed in both. But I'll fix everything. I will return my Rose to what it ought to be."
"Once you manage to make sense of that," Riko said with a smile, eyes pointing at Lucent's ruined papers.
Mirage nodded, then gave some of the documents to Riko. Really important stuff, she could tell from a glance, even if it was hard to understand what Lucent's horrid handwriting was supposed to mean. If Mirage was already sharing these sorts of secrets with Riko, did that mean…?
"Hey… Can I ask you something? Please"
Mirage looked up from her books, inquisitive eyes firmly focused on her assistant. Riko felt a sting of worry whenever she saw that gaze, afraid that whatever she meant to say would sound very stupid to Cure Mirage, but she figured that if she didn't muster the strength to speak, she'd never be strong enough to be a good Precure and save Mirai, her friends…
"You've been showing me a lot of important things this past week," Riko said, trying not to stutter, "old documents and secrets of the Red Rose. They weren't any world-shattering revelations, but… They're more than I expected."
"Like I said, you'll work closely with me. If I kept secrets from you, what'd be the point of having you around? I do need help. I need someone I can trust, someone loyal. And you've proven to be just that. The last person I had such high hopes for has left my grasp. I meant to teach her so much, but she preferred to stray from my guidance and leave on a wild chase. You won't do that, right?" There was a fierceness in Mirage's face that Riko found compelling. "You will not be a disappointment, will not leave me once you have what you desire?"
"I won't," Riko said. "I swear I'll be good. I want to learn from you. I want to help you, because I know you'll help me. You've been so good to me, too, not only now but since I had to walk away from Verone in shame."
"That's good to hear," Mirage smiled. "If you had said otherwise, I'd have quite the complication in my hands right now, because I mean to make you a Precure before the week is done."
Riko immediately let go of the papers she held, then cursed herself as she picked them back up one by one, to the sound of Mirage's soft giggling. Riko found it hard to stand still. She hadn't expected it to happen so soon, though admittedly she had no idea when it'd even happen.
"I… I… My Rose… Mirage… I-" She made a fool of herself, but Mirage's smile didn't change. With both hands she took Riko's and caressed them, and let Riko shed her joyful tears without interrupting her. Riko tried to compose herself, if briefly.
"You'll want to thank me," Mirage said, "you don't have to. You've earned this. Now," Mirage clapped her hands together, "how about I give you a few minutes to cry and get your bearings? But try not to take too long. There is much work to be done, and the Precure can never rest."
When she woke, Iona saw Nozomi kneeling by the side of the bed, her arms resting on top of Fortune's legs. Somehow she seemed peaceful like that, so peaceful that Iona didn't want to wake her, but on the other hand, she also wished Nozomi would actually sleep on her own bed instead of worrying herself sick over Iona's wounds.
Glasan was already awake, sat on a small table on the corner of the room, one made for fairies. It was a bit laughable, such a small thing next to human-sized furniture, but Iona presumed that the ogres would laugh at her bed as well. Glasan seemed to be writing something. Her journal, Iona presumed, Glasan had made mention of wanting to write down everything she saw in Märchenland, that land she was always fascinated by. Iona wished her fairy partner would have some less dreary stories to tell, but their stay in Morgenluft hadn't been exactly regular.
She shook Nozomi's head, first gently, but when that didn't wake her, Iona had to be a bit more forceful, tugging on Nozomi's disheveled hair, strands jumping wildly towards all possible directions. It was a mystery to Iona how the hell Nozomi could wake each morning with dreadful bed hair while seemingly refusing to sleep on a bed like a normal person. Iona would almost consider inviting Nozomi to rest with her, if only so the poor girl wouldn't have to be entirely uncomfortable, but that was far too embarrassing. So instead she pulled on Nozomi's ear until she finally managed to wake up, looking around in confusion.
"You may find it in your interest to know that sleeping on your knees, next to my bed, isn't actually making my legs heal any better. At this rate you'll just break your damn knees and then I'll be the one who'll have to take care of you."
"I know you'd care for me very well," Nozomi said, smiling, missing the point entirely, but somehow seeming very content to do so. "So I'm not worried about myself."
"You remember someone who loved to hurt herself for the sake of her friends," Iona said, and Nozomi stopped smiling. Now somber, she simply nodded, and ponderously rose to her feet. As Iona thought, Nozomi's knees were chafed from their contact with the rough wooden floor, her pants having lost a bit of color and fabric.
"I'm sorry," Nozomi said. "It's not that I intend to go this far, I just worry about you. And when Makoto and I carried you out of Fabelpfalz, I was so terrified…" She sat by Iona's side. Fortune rose as high as she could, resting her back against the tall headboard. "Now that you're out of danger I don't want to leave you."
"That's fine," said Iona. She looked away from Nozomi so that she would not see her fluster. "I… I don't want you to leave, either," though she did not see it, she could almost feel Nozomi smiling at her with utter smugness. "You'd probably get yourself killed if I don't watch over you, anyways. It's shocking how you could actually take care of me when you're so bad at taking care of yourself, honestly…"
"Ah, well, like I said, I know you'd help me, so it's fine. If I were in your place, I know you'd carry me if I asked."
"C-Carry you?" Iona wondered if Nozomi was having fun acting like this, or if she was only saying whatever came to mind. Either possibility seemed equally likely.
"Like a princess," she said, and giggled. "You should laugh a little more, you know? Just because it's winter doesn't mean you have to be gloomy and cold."
Nozomi had a point, Iona had to admit. It had always been her nature to joke and try to bring some semblance of levity to awfulness. Iona pulled back her blankets, and stared at her own bare legs. They shivered, hitting each other in the cold. Majorina had arranged for the two of them to stay in a rented room of a downtown inn, but the witch didn't seem willing to pay for accommodation suited for the girls who had just saved the whole city. But it would be graceless to complain, and it wasn't her surroundings that Iona minded, anyways.
It was the blue spots on her legs, the ones that hurt to touch to this day. She touched them anyways, despite Nozomi always asking her not to. Iona couldn't help it. She always had this vague hope that she'd wake and the pain would be gone.
"Stop poking at it," Nozomi said, and Iona's fingers coiled back. "What were you expecting? Your legs were freakin' snapped and your ankles twisted so bad it looked like both your feet were facing left."
"I'm a Precure," Iona snarled, clawing at her own legs. She tried not to look at the crutches resting on the wall by the door. She was not fond of them at all. "I should be recovering already."
"You are," Nozomi said, "and try to put it into your stubborn mind that if you weren't a Precure you'd never be walking again. Or you'd be dead," she hesitated to say that. "Of course we can take a lot of punishment and heal quickly, but we're not made of clay. We can put ourselves back together, but not instantly. Please be patient."
"It's not easy. I know everyone's waiting for my recovery so we can go back home. Well, except Reika, Miyuki and Yayoi. They're already home, I guess."
"I guess," Nozomi smiled. "If you're patient, you're giving Reika and Miyuki some more time with their families, if that's any comfort to you."
"A bit. But not Yayoi?" Iona only understood what it meant as she was asking the question.
"Her mother was not here during the Death of the Stars," Nozomi said. "And her father… Is also not here."
Iona kept her silence. Perhaps it was the cold atmosphere that made everything seem a little bit sadder. Perhaps everything was sad. She didn't know. She reached for her clothes and asked for Nozomi to turn aside as she dressed herself. When she was done, she pointed at the windows. Nozomi ran to open it, and the sun felt like a punch to Iona's face. She groaned.
"What time is it?" She asked. Nozomi pretended the question was not directed at her. "Nozomi. I did ask you to set our alarm for before noon."
"Yes, but, well, I forgot," Nozomi said. She tried to laugh it off, but Iona wouldn't have any of it. She didn't let herself lose her temper, though. She was getting better at it, she thought, or maybe it was just that she liked Nozomi now much more than she used to. She still felt some shame when she remembered her treatment of her friend, but Nozomi didn't seem to think much about those times, so Iona shouldn't either.
Just as Iona was reaching for her crutches to try and lift herself from her bed, someone knocked on the door, and Nozomi was quick to open it. Iona expected it to be the old wolf who owned the inn, so when it was Reika that stepped inside, her arms busy carrying a tray of plates and cups, Iona couldn't help but smile so wide and just about cry. She didn't cry, though, of course she didn't. She wasn't Nozomi, who nearly threw herself in Reika's arms - and would have certainly done so if she wasn't carrying so much - while weeping and yelling. Thank goodness it's so late, Iona thought, or we'd be kicked out of here for all the noise.
Reika returned Nozomi's attention once she placed the tray on their table, stepping gingerly around a cabinet. There was not much space in the room to begin with, just two beds and the barest essentials, so it seemed awfully crowded with Reika joining them, but Iona didn't mind. No, she didn't mind at all.
"I asked the owner for your room," Reika said, "and he said you hadn't even come out for breakfast, nor lunch. I thought I'd bring it for you. As an apology for not coming sooner."
"Well, winter is perfect for sleeping late," Nozomi tried to laugh it off, but Iona had questions to ask.
"Took you long enough, Miss Aoki," Iona said. "I'd almost thought you were forgetting about us."
"Never," Reika didn't appear to realize it was a joke. She stepped up to Iona, and hugged her tight. Iona returned the embrace with the same fierceness, though she shuddered at Reika's cold breath and fingers. "Can you walk?"
"Are you that eager to leave?" Iona asked, and Reika tilted her head, puzzled. "Right, no jokes. Although it does feel like a joke that my recovery was worded like an ultimatum when Majorina told us we should leave soon. When she can limp, you can leave!"
"Well, can you limp?" Reika insisted. Iona shook her head. "I see. I pray you'll recover soon. I'd love to stay here a while longer, but Majorina is not really wrong. We have work to do, and it isn't here. The Bad End Kingdom will deal with Morgenluft. It has done so admirably thus far."
"Save for a brush with horrible death," Iona complained. "Aren't you hurt about leaving home?"
"Of course I am," Reika said, her eyes shimmering. "But it seems that wherever the Precure go, danger and tragedy follow, so it'd be best to return once things are normal again," Iona found it curious how that once sounded so much like an if. She didn't question it. It only made her think of her own home. It was a subject she always tried to avoid, and usually she concluded that without Maria, there would always be something gone, always something that made it hard for her to call anywhere home again.
Though sometimes it was a word that came to mind as she was with Nozomi and Reika. Iona couldn't understand or justify why, but she felt that way all the same. It brought her guilt; Iona presumed it was wrong of her to find some sort of joy in Last Light and by the side of her friends when her own home was a blasted ruin. But she couldn't find it in her to feel nothing but sadness and longing. That wasn't her, not anymore. Never again.
"I've missed you," said Reika, "but I was busy with family. You understand, I'm certain. They did not want me to leave. I didn't want to leave, either."
"You told them of us?" Nozomi asked. Reika nodded. "I hope you put in a good word for me."
"Of course I did," Reika said. "Mother expects to see you soon, actually. My family means to throw a party. More of a gathering, really. For my birthday."
"Oh!" Nozomi was even more excited, somehow. "I love parties, and I love birthdays. Mine passed by and I didn't even notice. When every day feels exactly the same, I kinda lose track of them… Does this mean I'm older than you?"
"It would seem so," Reika said, and Nozomi looked strangely proud of it. "Truth is, if my mother hadn't mentioned it, I would have forgotten it as well. It never mattered much to me, even before the Death of the Stars, and now it is of even lesser consequence. But my family insisted."
"Sometimes it's good to do things that don't matter," Iona said. "If not for them, the things that do matter wouldn't have any weight. They're what we must protect, after all."
"You're right," Reika said with a smile that was positively scintillating. It made Iona want to smile as well. She felt pathetically emotional as she stared at Nozomi and Reika, but to her credit, she didn't show it. She couldn't word it, but these girls meant the world to her now.
"Home," Iona muttered to herself. Nozomi gave her a curious look.
"What did you say?"
"I said help me up," Iona pointed at her crutches. "I think that, if I must stay in Morgenluft until I'm healed, I'd best try and see some of this city, no? You said so much about it on our way here," she faced Reika, "so you'd better show it."
"Yes, Reika said. "Yes, of course. Come, I'll show you all there is that's worth seeing. Now that Morgenluft is alive again, despite everything, you're right we have to see it. And together…"
The library was already filled with the dust and the rags of ages before dozens of tons of ice collapsed from the throne room above into its cramped corridors. That didn't help matters much, Makoto thought, but at least she could breathe without sneezing. That ought to count for something.
Honoka herself seemed endlessly fascinated with each book she picked up from the floor, holding it high to her face as she tried to make sense of its cover, now illegible thanks to the frost melting on top of it. It didn't seem to bother her in the slightest. When Komachi questioned her for it, Honoka was quick to lecture her that a scholar cannot expect all of their sources to be easy to decipher and make sense of.
"Our job is not that easy!" She had said then. "Why, historians always have to read old ruined scrolls and parchment that crumbles at the touch, some of them written in languages either dead or wording that is now entirely antiquated. In fact-"
Makoto didn't pay attention to the rest. By the looks of it, even Nagisa didn't, though Komachi listened to every word that Honoka said. Whether it was out of interest or politeness, Makoto didn't know. She supposed it didn't matter.
Once Honoka found that everyone was alive and well - Iona in particular, so gravely wounded - she immediately asked about the libraries of Fabelpfalz. Reika told her that it might have been damaged, and Honoka instantly volunteered to check, even as no one had asked. She conscripted Nagisa to this task as well, and once she found out that the damage that Reika mentioned was a giant chunk of ice sinking through the floor as it crumbled and destroyed half of the palace, she realized she'd need even more help. Komachi and Makoto agreed, though now Sword was regretting her decision.
The library was utterly ravaged, bookshelves toppled over by the ice, its books all drenched with water. A few were intact, but many were now unreadable, the ink running out of the pages along the water. Yet Honoka swore she would make sense of those.
For her part, Makoto carefully cut through the ice so that more sections of the library could be accessed. Breaking off the ice was easy enough, and her Holy Sword cut through it like cheese, but it was harder for the whole thing not to fall apart. Whenever Makoto looked up and saw the enormity of the chunk of ice, almost as big as her entire house in Last Light, she felt more than a trace of fear. If it collapsed again, it could very well crush the entire library, and everyone working there as well, of course. No wonder the librarians preferred to stay outside. But not Cure White, of course. She said she had to save all of this before it could be lost. Makoto found that very admirable, and also very foolhardy.
Honoka shoved her way past Makoto through a cranny that led her to another section of the library, where the shelves had not fallen. Frozen shards fell on her way, but she didn't seem to care. She was too worried with ensuring that nothing was lost to concern herself with something as inconsequent as not having a block of ice crush her skull. Perhaps, since she was so brilliant, hers was tougher than most people's. The idea made Makoto chuckle.
Though Cure White was too concentrated on her own task to even acknowledge Makopi's discreet laughter, Komachi certainly did, lifting her head up from the book in which she was immersed to regard Makoto with quiet interest.
"You look like you wish you were anywhere else," Komachi told her, "if it's not too disrespectful of me to say that."
Makoto found it odd how Komachi alternated between relaxed comfort and exaggerated politeness depending on the person. It was a jarring shift, she had to admit, and it irked her that someone who'd been travelling and living with her for months still seemed so afraid of her. Perhaps afraid was a misguided word, Makoto admitted, but the girl was more than merely cagey. She certainly acted like she was afraid of saying the wrong word, of uttering some folly. Makoto wondered if some of the blame was owed to her, too: she didn't exactly make an effort to be approachable, not with any frequency.
"I wish we were on the road back to Last Light, yes," Makoto said. Komachi did not continue the conversation. Her eyes drifted from the pages of her book and back to Makoto. Make an effort, Sword told herself. "I know why we're staying. I know this is important work, I know we're waiting for Iona to recover. I'm just restless. This is not the kind of thing I'm good at, and doing things I'm inept at makes me frustrated. There's a reason my name is Cure Sword, not Cure Library, or Cure Icepick, or Cure Restoration of Ancient Damaged Texts."
She thought that it was actually a funny joke, for once, but Komachi didn't laugh. Well, Makoto thought, only Alice ever laughed at my jokes, and she always smiled at everything I did. The memory of Alice returned to her, but now she scarcely remembered the nights she spent chatting with her, or when they dined together. She remembered her walking away.
Her asinine reminiscence made her stop her work, her blade buried in the ice. Cold fragments fell down on her head and onto her arms. Komachi only stared, seemingly wanting to say something. It was such an uncomfortable silence that Makoto caught Nagisa covering her face and holding back laughter.
"Admittedly," Komachi managed to say, "Cure Restoration of Ancient Damaged Texts might actually not even be the most absurd name for a Precure. It seems, if nothing else, a very honest name. Like Sword. There's something to be said about that."
"It's a good name for a soldier," Makoto said. "I never thought I'd be anything but that. A soldier for the Precure, guardian of the princess of Trump. It did seem very clean, you know? Very simple. I thought that was all I had to be," but now, she realized, with her home and her princess gone, she couldn't be that. She had to figure out what she was now that she failed to protect what was important to her. She was only a sword now, a blade with cause save for whichever was right in front of her. But she didn't say this. She didn't want to be too much of a bummer, even if she understood there weren't that many happy tales to share as of late, anyway, for anyone.
"I like it," Komachi said. "It's a good name, I think."
"What are you reading?" Makoto diverted the subject as gracefully as she could, which was very little. Komachi showed her the cover, brown leather and art of a style so old that was laughable to modern eyes. It meant nothing to Makoto.
"It's an old book of tales," said Komachi. "About the Book of Tales, that is. I guess since the Book is one, this is all we have left of it. Stories," she said, then paused to ponder. "Stories of stories, even."
"Regrettable loss," said Honoka from afar. "But better than dying, I suppose."
"You don't seem too concerned about safety right now, though," said Nagisa. Honoka didn't answer, and instead started to climb up a particularly tall bookshelf, seemingly unconcerned. She had always struck Makoto as a cautious one, this Cure White of whom she had heard so many tales of great deeds alongside her partner, so to see this side of her was a shock to Cure Sword even after all the time they'd spent together. It wasn't a bad thing, of course. It made Makoto glad to see this humanity in a Precure held in such high esteem, given that, sometimes, the stories about renowned Precure made them seem like something greater than human.
"You'll have to forgive her," Mipple, Honoka's fairy partner, walked up to Makoto. The cold didn't seem to be bothering her, unlike Mepple, who wouldn't let anyone forget that he was very displeased to be there. "Her curiosity leads her onward like it's a carrot on a stick."
Makoto cut off another piece of the great block of ice, and realized then that they were getting close to the end of the library, and Makoto's part of the work was almost done. The rest was up to Honoka, Nagisa and Komachi, though, admittedly, Makoto didn't really have much else to do in this city she barely knew, so she considered staying here to help, though she wasn't too certain what kind of assistance she could be.
"You know," Komachi actually continued their conversation, which Makoto could tell took some effort - so she admired that she'd try. "This book has tales that were first told thousands of years ago, but some are still told to this day. They've changed, of course, but I can recognize it. It is difficult for me to really understand just how old this land is, that it can trace back its history to days so far in the past."
"Ah, yeah, the fairy kingdoms were founded pretty recently compared to other countries," Makoto remembered a lesson that Rikka had taught her once.
"Y-Yes," Komachi said, "that's exactly why it's so strange to me, yet fascinating. That a hundred years would mean less here than they do where I come from."
"They mean the same thing," Nagisa said, balancing a stack of books upon her arms, an almost laughable sight. "A hundred years is just that, no matter where: a hundred years. Märchenland is old, but it is no different from anywhere else. I always thought it was, until we came."
"What do you mean?" Komachi asked, although Makoto thought she understood what Nagisa tried to say. She felt the same way.
"I heard the wildest stories about what was past the border," Makoto said. "I grew up on tales of witches and vampires and the ancient magic of the fairies, and it always was baffling to me how all that wonder was so close to the Trump Kingdom. It was one thing to hear of the legends of the Precure, of the Rose Garden, now gone, beyond our reach. Those were distant. But Märchenland was right there. I'd never been south of the border. I imagined all manner of madness, and I'll admit that I've seen things here that surpassed those," indeed, everything that she saw in the Book of Tales was far more unthinkable than the most fanciful of her musings. "But it seems more normal now than ever before."
"Exactly," said Nagisa. "When they were stories of wondrous beasts, it was easy to imagine Märchenland as a place hostile to reason and normalcy, a land of winter and illusion. How could Reika and Yayoi have lived here? That was what I wondered. But I see now that even where magic and fancy reign, people live and find their own normalcy. And, most of all…"
Nagisa stared pensively at the ice, lit by the rays of light it brought alongside it as it collapsed through the roof. Through it Makoto saw the limpid blue of the sky, distorted by the crystalline ice. She could almost call it beautiful.
"I must sound so stupid coming to such an obvious realization," Nagisa said, "but I see now that our enemies live as well. That they saw something waiting for them in the world without stars that they made. They are guided by something other than mere reckless evil. And not all are the monsters I thought."
"Not everyone who works against the Precure is evil!" Komachi sounded defensive. She seemed embarrassed when the eyes of both Makoto and Nagisa were upon her. "Some have no choice," she said, sadly. "I've seen it. For some there is no other way."
"That may well be true," Makoto said, "but they don't need to be monsters to be our enemies. The Selfish are humans, I know, with their human flaws and desires, but their only humanity that truly matters to me now is their bleeding and their suffering. You'd do well to remember that if they had their reasons to fight, we still have ours to retaliate. A truce could be arranged with the Bad End Kingdom, but what of Nightmare, who'd put us in chains, or Eternal, which, even worse, would place us inside display glasses?"
"We'll fight them as they come," Nagisa said. "As we must. But if we could accomplish this union here at Morgenluft, if we could end this with something other than blood, then who's to say we have no such hopes elsewhere as well?"
"I've already said that I'm Cure Sword for a reason. I'm a soldier. I'll keep fighting, wherever I must. It isn't for me to reason with those who fed our world to the darkness. You might say they had their reasons, but that doesn't matter. What matters is what they've done. They killed our stars. We fought by their side now that they needed us, but that changes nothing. They're our enemies. They've always been our enemies, and they will always be our enemies."
"But they don't have to be," Komachi said. She had been imprisoned as well, Makoto remembered. "Not all of them."
"Maybe whoever captured you was kinder than my captors. It doesn't matter. Not to me, at least. You may still have something you wish to protect, but I don't. My sole desire is justice now."
"Peace is justice," Honoka suddenly said, joining the Precure without warning, nearly startling Makoto. She kept a pair of books close to her chest. "It's what Cure Ange said. Peace is justice, and the foundation of all tomorrows. Those were her words when defending a peaceful integration of the Desert Lands when brasher hearts amongst the Red Rose called for blood. I hate that we found common cause with the Bad End Kingdom. I hate even more that I understand why. My heart, too, calls for some punishment for them for siding against us. Perhaps not annihilation, but something. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. But that's what Cure Ange meant," whenever she heard the name, Makoto felt an anger she couldn't explain. That name belonged to her princess, not to some Cure who died ages ago. "The foundation of all tomorrows… If we were to fight the Bad End Kingdom we would not be in this library. I would not have been able to protect these," she showed her tomes to Makoto, "Reika and Miyuki would not be resting with their families. That has to be worth something."
"There is no worth to be found in the Selfish," Makoto said. "Their way is spite and cruelty."
"You may be right. It could be that there is no path for us but war with them, and if that day comes," Honoka looked deep in Makoto's eye, and the certainty of will in that stare was disconcerting, "no one will stop you from claiming your vengeance. But when we return to the Phoenix Tower, I'll tell Mirage of what happened here, and I'll tell my fellow Cures that the world is not lost. That some of it can be restored, even if it'll never be the same. And even if it does not give us satisfaction, even if it hurts us to be unable to undo all wrongs, we should do it for the sake of tomorrow."
Makoto nodded. She wasn't sure how she felt about it. There was no hatred in her heart for the Bad End Kingdom in particular, that was the truth of it, she understood why they played their part in the vile deeds that led to the Death of the Stars, but forgiveness did not come easy to her. She didn't need to think about this. She was a soldier of the Red Rose, nothing more. She might have been something more, once, when she was whole, but now she was only her blade. When she fought by Reika's side, she finally found a purpose again, the first time since she left the Trump Kingdom where she was driven by something other than vague notions of a thirst for vengeance she could not quench. What did she have left now, but the burden of fighting until her end? Her purpose died in the capital, when it left her forever, Makoto thought.
She just couldn't tell if it was her princess she thought of, or her friends departing, forsaking her. She found it better not to think at all. She felt the weight of her blade upon her hand and understood that was all she cared to know.
Morgenluft, Nozomi discovered quite quickly, was actually a rather pleasant and beautiful city when it wasn't buried under mountains of snow and lit by the cursed moon and stars. Nozomi recognized some of the sights that Reika showed her and Iona, having seen them during the long night, but now that she was no longer under the threat of horrible death, Nozomi rather enjoyed her time there. Maybe it was that she finally could leave that inn, but most likely it was being with Reika again, alongside Iona. It was a fine thing to be alone with Iona, but Nozomi found that when the three of them were together, she felt just like she used to when she was with Rin, with Karen, with Urara and Komachi. That feeling wasn't gone, wasn't lost forever. To Nozomi that was a relief that made her feel so warm inside that she didn't even complain about the gentle snowfall.
With life returned to Morgenluft, and without the blizzards that shrouded it, Nozomi saw a city of many colors and charms, noisy and crowded with people on their way to market and to work. It had been a week since the unfortunate events, so of course it was already time to return to normalcy. That's not to say that nothing changed, of course. The people seemed warmer. Nozomi wondered if her impression was correct or if it was simply a result of familiarity, but it did appear to her that everyone smiled more, and at one another. She wondered if this mood would last, if fighting and suffering together could bring about a change here, or if it was a temporary thing. Nozomi herself could scarcely feel the days change, as this entire past week seemed like the same dawn after a horrible night. Every sunrise was a relief - not that Nozomi would actually wake early enough to see them.
It was to the markets that Reika first took them. It was a slow journey, what with Iona's wounds and her need for crutches, but neither of the three would possibly say a word of complaint. Nozomi hadn't rested in so long, hadn't simple let one day come after the other with no fears or worries or plans. Even when she returned to Last Light after the failure at the Trump Kingdom she didn't really feel like she had rested. There was always something looming on the horizon, a blurred fate she knew she could not avoid. She always thought of their expedition to Märchenland, so every night she'd think of it, pray it would end differently than the bitter failure she had just tasted in Trump. She didn't know when they'd leave, but always knew they would.
But now, somehow, that didn't matter. It was Iona's recovery they waited for, but right now Nozomi was in no great hurry to go anywhere. She never forgot her duty, her promise to the stars, but as she walked side by side with these girls she loved, making her way through a crowd, taking in the sights and the smells of foods she couldn't even recognize, she felt like it was today that mattered, not only that distant, unfamiliar and fearful tomorrow. The world shrunk around her, and right now it seemed to be only Morgenluft, only Reika and Iona, so even when she thought of what was outside, of Nightmare and its leader who, Reika said, snuffer out the stars, or the evils that had claimed Palmier and the other fairy kingdoms, or even the Blue Rose in all its mystery, she didn't fear. She felt just fine to be there with the friends she loved, doing something utterly trivial as tasting of the fruits that vendors offered and laughing at Iona when her face twisted after taking a bite of crabapple.
They rested underneath a large spruce that had endured the cursed night. Its leaves always survive winter, Reika told them, so to Nozomi it seemed to be a most fitting tree for Morgenluft. Beneath it, the three ate all the food they had bought at the market stalls, all that had caught their interest. Sweets for Nozomi and Reika, who shared with one another what they thought tasted best, but Iona preferred fruits, taking special delight from biting down on huge strawberries of a red so deep that it seemed to stain Iona's teeth with blood. She tried to clean them up as discreetly as she could, while both Nozomi and Reika picked up the remaining berries and felt them burst in their mouths. Those were some of the best Nozomi had ever tasted.
Iona set her crutches aside, left them leaning against the tree trunks as she lay upon the grass and the white flakes that covered it. The cold was very mild that afternoon, and, now properly dressed, Nozomi hardly even noticed it. It was a pretty sight, that soft snowfall, especially for one who so rarely got to see it. The Palmier Kingdom and its old colonies seemed permanently stuck on a mild temperature, and of the other fairy kingdoms, only Bavarois had any sort of winter worth noting, and Nozomi had visited it just three times, on vacation.
There was more to see than just markets, of course. Once they were done eating, sharing with one another their opinions on whatever they tasted - though Nozomi was easy to please and only had praise to give, especially about the hot quiche she bought from a pastry stand manned by an ogre - and resting, Reika had more to show of her home.
First she took them to Morgenluft's great arena where yearly winter sports were held. Nozomi doubted that there would be much of that until a few years from then, and they saw the stadium in disrepair, its gates left open and its grounds deserted. Presumably there were more important things to take care of right now, though Reika wished that soon enough people would have time for that again.
"I've been here a few times," Reika said. "With my brother, usually, but also with Nao and Akane. We all had a taste for sports, even though our preferred ones could never be played in such a place. Nao tried, once," she grinned, a smile that began with a trace of mockery but quickly turned tender. "I warned her, really I did, but she was convinced that ice football was going to be the hot new thing. She slipped and twisted her ankle, that fool, and I had to call for help."
"She sounds bold, this Nao," said Iona.
"She is nothing if not passionate," said Reika. "I love that about her, even if it does lead to twisted ankles from time to time."
Nozomi stared at the empty arena, the ice melted long ago, leaving only rancid pools behind. Nozomi had heard of this place before, though she never cared enough to learn much about it. She remembered hearing from Rin about how most sports were actually held in large fields in the mountains, where there was plenty of space for skiing, and the indoors arena was for figure skating. Nozomi had only the vaguest idea of what that could mean, but when Rin talked about it, it seemed like the most interesting thing in the world. Anything that Rin talked about was fascinating, of course. Nozomi couldn't help but smile that both herself and Reika would have friends that seemed so similar.
"You know," Iona said. "This reminds me of home, somehow. My mother enjoyed watching these competitions, so I'd sometimes catch her in front of the television, cheering. She never yelled, she wasn't like that, but she was really into it. I don't know why that memory stuck with me. I'm glad it did, though."
Their next destinations were parks and museums of which Reika had much to talk about, but sadly not enough time for thorough inspections. Inside one of the museums, the largest in Morgenluft, Nozomi for once could surprise Reika by knowing something she didn't: she spoke of how a few years back she had heard that multiple relics had been returned from Märchenland and the Blue Sky Kingdom to Palmier and its colonies. Long ago they had been taken during war or gifted by the sovereigns of the Palmier Kingdom to other rulers, but recently they were returned to where the should rightfully be. Neither Reika or Iona knew that, and it brought Nozomi great satisfaction to teach them something. She had been underestimated by so many people and for so long that it made her happy to show that she, too, could know things. But even Iona hadn't doubted her in a long time. It made Nozomi glad to realize that.
The sky was dyed a dull orange by the time Reika showed them their last stop. A restaurant, small and cozy, with a homelike atmosphere. Iona questioned why Reika felt this place could be so important, but as soon as she mentioned the name of the establishment, it became clear.
It was owned by Akane's family. When Nozomi saw Masako, Akane's mother, there was no doubt about it. She was glad beyond words to see Reika again, and told her that Yayoi had already visited, as well, though Miyuki had not. It did not surprise Nozomi to learn that Miyuki would be hesitant: it was her fault Akane's family had been trapped in the Book of Tales. They seemed fine, though, especially Akane's brother Genki, who pestered Reika with question after question.
He didn't ask about his sister, though. Yayoi must have already talked about that. After the three ordered, Reika got up from her seat before she touched her food and walked into the kitchens alongside Akane's family. The sound of meat being grilled and vegetables being chopped ceased abruptly, and Nozomi could just about hear muffled words, but didn't pay attention. It wasn't her place to listen, this wasn't her business. Instead she ate alongside Iona, and though she had tasted many treats earlier this day, the course served here was more savory than anything else. Most of all she loved those grilled pancakes that were common in the northern continent but a real delicacy south of the Crystal Ocean. She'd have to ask the name, though she doubted she'd be able to cook something this delicious on her own. Maybe Yuko could help…
"I'm almost a bit sad that we'll have to leave, you know," said Iona. Nozomi didn't say anything: her mouth was full and she refused to hurry to finish her meal, savoring it for as long as she could instead. "Reika hasn't been this happy in a while. Being home has really done her a lot of good."
"Yeah," Nozomi said, then washed down the food with a cup of coffee. A weird combination, Iona had said when Nozomi ordered, but it was good enough. "I kept worrying she'd want to stay, which I guess is kinda selfish of me. But I know she'll come. Of course she will. You know," she thought of something. "Now I'm thinking of what I'm gonna show you guys when it's my home that's liberated."
"Nozomi…"
"I know, I know. It's still a long way to go. We have other worries, and we probably can't strike the heart of Nightmare yet. But I'm already thinking about it. Thinking of interesting sights, of places I loved, and good food too, of course!" She felt a harsh longing, but it did not make her sad, only thoughtful. "Maybe when I find my friend we'll all go back there together. I know Karen is safe, and I swear I've seen Rin. It's only Urara that I heard nothing about. I hope she's well," Nozomi said, and then she did feel a bit melancholic. "I wish you could hear her sing. She told me once that she liked acting more than singing, really, but truth is I think I prefer her songs."
"I pray we'll hear her someday," Iona said, holding Nozomi's hand. She hadn't expected that at all, it wasn't Iona's way, but she didn't let go, clutching it tightly. She turned her face to the door to the kitchens, and Iona did so as well. Nozomi could hear Reika's voice now, and she wept. It was a painful thing to hear. Iona squeezed Nozomi's hand again. "I know it hurts. You know those aren't empty words. I swear that when all is done, we'll take everything back. Everything and everyone that was taken from us, we'll have them by our side again."
Nozomi nodded, and wondered how much Iona meant that. She thought of Maria, lost beyond anyone's reach, but when she looked into Iona's eyes, she didn't see the sorrow and the anger that was so usual to them. She only saw determination. Iona had the right of it, of course. They could fix some of what they had lost. Not all, for sure, but when she thought of all of Morgenluft that Reika had shown her, when she thought that she dined here alongside her friends just as she used to before the Death of the Stars, Nozomi understood that this place had not been lost, only broken. As was the world. There were still many battles to fight, and Nozomi would fight them all, but for now she didn't think of them. She only enjoyed her food and greeted Reika with a smile when at last she returned.
So, since this part of the story is nearly over, I figured it'd be a good time to say some things.
This took me way longer than I ever expected, for all manner of reasons, but I hope that with these last chapters being published in a timely fashion, you can have some confidence about this story ever being finished. For the past month I've actually been writing every day again, and though it's a bit slower than when I'd finish chapters in under a week, I'm satisfied with this pace and by now it's become routine so I can safely say that there should be no futher delays beyond reason. I know, I know, famous last words, but I am pretty confident.
As for the story, well, it seems that each time I talk about it, the outline has grown. This time it hasn't, though. While I was struggling to work on this fic I decided that I was really unhappy with the way future events would transpire so after some thought I've reworked parts of the story into something I consider better. It might be a bit shorter, but it also might not, as I don't really mind adding new chapters to my outlines in case it's needed.
You've also probably noticed a few mentions to KiraPre characters. By now the fic's summary probably sounds silly, saying it's about all seasons up to Happiness Charge, but oh well. I don't expect to add any further seasons, certainly not as relevant characters, but certain KiraPre characters have found a place, though obviously not as major characters. Still, I find some of them to be interesting enough that I'd like to include them here.
So. Those were a lot of words, but I felt now was a good time to say them. Thank you for sticking with me for this long. I hope you are enjoying reading this, and don't hesitate to comment if you'd like.