Taisetsu na Tsuyosa
Van watched the light fade into the sky, the warmth of it leaving his face and arms. He smiled,
softly, but the smile didn't echo what he felt inside-- it felt as if half of him had been torn away,
leaving a dully aching pit somewhere deep inside him. Three seconds-- only three seconds had
gone by since he'd last seen her face, and already he missed her to the point of physical pain. "I'll
never forget you," she had said. Hitomi . . .
He turned away from his brother's grave in the forest alcove and began the walk back to the
palace.
* * *
"Your highness! We need a decision today, or else the construction on the west wing of the
palace cannot be completed before the winter!"
Van closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. "I told you to ask the overseer-- she's supposed to handle
these things." He was tired-- very tired. The city's reconstruction, which had been going on for
about six months, was being rushed to be completed before winter came.
"Yes, I know," the architect was saying, "But she's down helping the town workers, instead of
overseeing the palace construction." He sounded rather annoyed.
Van allowed himself a small smile. "The town probably needs it more than the palace. And she
likes helping people that need it."
"But--"
"Merle is allowed to do as she wishes-- I appointed her as overseer for that very reason. She has
a good heart so she's happier helping townspeople to finish their homes so they won't freeze in
the winter. I assure you, we're not going to freeze to death if one more wing on this palace isn't
completed."
"But your highness . . . the palace is very important to morale--"
"You know what's even more important to morale?" Van cut in firmly. "Being warm and safe
when winter comes." He paused, thinking. "I have an idea. Cut construction on the palace by half,
and send the extra workers down to the city to help those who are farthest behind in building
their houses."
The architect's jaw fell open. "B-But, your highness--"
"Are you questioning my orders? You came here asking my opinion, didn't you?"
"O-Of course I'm not questioning it, but--"
"Good." Van moderated his tone, trying to sound more friendly despite how tired he was. "Then
hurry and divide the task force. Every minute of construction counts. Thanks for your advice," he
added vaguely, hoping that it would help bandage the haughty architect's damaged sense of self-importance.
The architect gave up and executed a little bow before withdrawing from the small throne room.
Van sighed and slouched a little in his seat. He didn't like sitting in the throne they'd made for
him-- it was horribly uncomfortable, and the fact that it raised him higher than everyone else
made him a little dizzy. He stood up and went down the carpeted steps, turning once he got to the
bottom to go to the window. Once he stepped off the plush red carpet, the tapping of his boots on
the white marble echoed across the bare room. Looking out the window, he could see the town
and all the construction going on. His eyes were drawn to a flash of tawny brown, and he smiled
despite his exhaustion. Merle, her lips curved in a broad grin, was running down a street near the
palace with a small basket of apples held aloft in her hands. Following shortly after, was a young
man Van had seen lurking about the palace recently.
Merle had matured surprisingly rapidly in the six months since Hitomi had left, both physically
and mentally. She'd begun to grow into her long, lanky limbs and was actually starting to look a
little like the two cat-girls that had worked for Folken except that her fur was still a rich, tawny
gold and her wavy hair was still a rosy pink. Her voice had become richer and less high-pitched,
and she no longer wailed at Van when he left her side-- she didn't even call him Van-sama
anymore; instead it was Van-oniichan. Van knew why, though he'd never asked. Her infatuation
with him was now a thing of the past, and she was trying to put it behind her. The name 'Van-sama' was too much of a reminder of her feelings, and so she had to put that behind her too. She
had become quite popular with the boys both in the palace and in the city, and although she never
meant to, she broke quite a few young hearts without lifting a finger.
And now . . . as Van watched the scene in the city streets, he thought that maybe she was
growing up even more than he had thought. The boy had caught up to her and pinned her against
a wall, intent on snatching the basket back from her. But then she smiled at him, softly, and he
stared at her for a moment, not moving. Merle's hands, pinned to her side by his arms, went limp
and the basket of apples fell to the cobbles, spilling the fruit over the street. Startled by the noise,
the boy jumped and stepped away from her, flushing a bit guiltily. Van was amused to notice that
the young cat-woman looked slightly flustered herself, as she bent to pick up the apples and no
doubt wondered what would have happened had the boy not gotten startled.
Van turned away from the window and left the throne room, heading towards his quarters. "Mr.
Mole," he called as he moved to shut the doors behind him.
"Hai!" The mole man popped seemingly out of nowhere, grinning as usual.
"Tell anyone who wants to ask for my opinion on anything that I'm going to my room and I don't
want to be disturbed."
The mole nodded and slipped into the throne room. The doors clicked softly shut after him. Van
made a mental note to check the throne room carefully later to make sure the creature hadn't
stolen too much
He reached the door to his suite in a few moments and stepped inside, locking the door behind
him and tossing the key onto his desk. The room was sparsely furnished-- Van preferred to have
a simple room. It felt more comfortable that way. It did have three separate rooms, a main
sleeping room with a bed, desk, and chest of drawers with his casual clothes in it, a closet with his
formal clothes in it, and a bathing room. He sat down in the chair at his desk, and laid his head
down on the cool, hard wood. Hitomi's pendant, which he wore around his neck and under his
shirt where it could lie against his skin, slipped with the movement and clinked against the desk.
He took it from around his neck and held it in his hands, looking at it silently and letting the chain
slip easily around his fingers.
"Hitomi . . ." he whispered softly. "Aishiteru . . ."
He shook himself and stood up, crossing the room to the bath room. As he entered it he turned on
the tap in the wash basin. One addition to the new palace was fully operational plumbing-- Van
hadn't realized what a novelty it was until he could draw his own hot bath whenever he wish. Or
until times like these when he felt almost feverish with the sense of loss over Hitomi and needed
some cold water against his skin. As the marble basin filled, he scooped the cold, clear water in
his hands and splashed it against his face, drying it after a few moments with a towel. He looked
up at the mirror above the wash basin, noticing as usual how little he'd changed since he'd last
seen Hitomi. He was older, that wasn't too hard to tell. His face wasn't quite so thin and bony,
and his arms and shoulders weren't as boyishly scrawny as they had been six months ago.
But he'd changed in more ways than the physical-- he was tired, more mentally than physically.
Being a king was hard, and not the physical kind of labor he was used to. But more than that, he
hadn't seen or heard from Hitomi in six months. To be exact, it was six months, thirteen days, and
some odd hours. Van knew, because he thought about her constantly. How long had it been for
her? He knew time passed differently on the Mystic Moon than on Gaea-- when she had gone
home briefly and Van had gone back to get her, no time at all had passed since the time she'd left.
In fact, she had gotten back earlier than when she had left. And yet, while she had been there, the
time had passed only slightly slower than time on Gaea. Van had been so sure his thoughts would
reach her on the Mystic Moon, because hadn't they been able to hear each other when she'd gone
to Earth last time? He needed her by his side, if not in body then in spirit. He missed her calming
influence, which was at the same time strangely exciting. He missed her smile, and her bright,
laughing green eyes. He missed the way her hair never seemed to lie flat or straight the way other
girls' hair did-- and the way he loved her all the more because of it.
"Hitomi," he murmured, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against the cool mirror. But a
strange thing happened as he let his weight rest upon it-- the carved frame of the glass moved
slightly, and he reached up with one hand to examine it. A section of the framework swung freely
to the touch, and when he swung it outwards it opened to reveal a dark compartment behind it.
His curiosity overcoming any sense of caution he might have had, he reached in to feel a smooth,
rectangular object. Drawing it out, he saw that it was some sort of box, made of a smooth, dark
reddish wood. He went out of the bathroom and sat down cross-legged on the bed. He set the
pendant down next to him and bent his full attention on the box. Examining it, he saw that it had
a finely engraved image of a feather etched on what had to be the front of the box, next to a
circular piece of wood with an oblong indentation in it. But before he could scrutinize it further,
there came a knock at the door.
"Lord Van?" came voice from the door. That blasted architect again.
Van smothered a curse and glanced towards the long windows that opened out on his balcony.
He scooped up the box and Hitomi's pendant and hurried out the window. He concentrated for a
brief moment and soon felt the familiar bursting sensation all over his back as his wings came
forth. He heard the doorknob start to turn, and launched himself off the balcony.
His wings spread by instinct, catching the air beneath him and pillowing him against a cushion of
nothingness. He climbed higher with a few easy beats of his wings, and then glided effortlessly
away from the palace, away from the confines of being royalty. Reveling in the feel of the wind
rushing fiercely against his skin, he almost forgot about the box. But then he remembered what
had brought him outside in the first place, and he began to glide in a circle as he descended down
towards the ocean. There was a rock there that no one else knew about, which one could only get
to by air as it was too far up a cliff face to climb to and too far down to reach without falling. He
back-winged gently and landed, immediately looking over the box again before even retracting his
wings. Flopping down onto the stone, he turned the thing over and over in his hands. As far as he
could see, there was no way of opening it-- there was no keyhole, and no key anyway. The circle
of wood at the tip of the feather was a separate piece of wood, but try as he may Van couldn't
get it to budge.
After a few moments, he dropped the thing in frustration. He'd never been patient, and there just
didn't seem to be any way to open the box. But as it fell the short distance to the stones, it
clinked against the chain dangling from his hand-- and gave him an idea. Picking up the box
again, he placed Hitomi's pendant against the oblong indentation in the wood circle; it fit
perfectly, clicking a little as it stuck into place. Using the pendant as a sort of handle, he twisted
the circle, which turned freely now. As it turned a quarter turn, the lid of the box lifted slightly
with a faint click, which Van heard only barely over the crashing of the ocean. The pendant
started to fall, and he caught it before it could slide off the cliff and put it back around his neck.
Then, holding his breath in anticipation, he opened the box. As he did, a tinkling melody began to
play, one that was hauntingly familiar. And yet, although the song was obviously something he
knew, he couldn't place it.
kimi wo
Van lifted his head sharply-- what was that? He could have sworn he'd heard something . . .
kimi wo, kimi wo aishiteru . . .
Van blinked rapidly, looking around him. That was Hitomi's voice. He'd know it anywhere. But .
. . she wasn't here. How could he be hearing her voice? He looked back down at the music box.
He must have just been imagining it. Beside the mechanism that created the music, the box
contained a few assorted items. There was a small lock of Hitomi's hair, tied with a scrap of the
first dress Van had ever seen Hitomi wear, which she had later torn into ruins in order to save his
life. There was a folded up, slightly faded piece of paper. But also, leaning against the side of the
box, was a card-- turning it over, Van saw the picture of a dragon twisting over the face of the
card, and the words Il Fusco/La Luce . . . the dragon. Van swallowed, and picked up the folded
parchment with remarkably steady fingers. As he opened it, his sensitive nose picked up Hitomi's
faint scent-- she'd always smelled of something wild and free and light; a scent that enthralled
him. The ocean's scent. Perhaps that was why he liked it here on his rock by the sea so much.
He unfolded the parchment, revealing a page with loose, neatly written script. He began to read.
Van, it said, and Van thought he could almost hear Hitomi's voice speaking to him. I don't know
when you'll read this. Or even if you'll read it at all-- I asked Mr. Mole to hide this box for me.
I knew that if you found the box, you'd know how to open it. I can't help but feel better writing
this-- I know we'll be able to talk to each other as long as our thoughts can reach each other,
but this seems so much more real. Much more solid. I wanted to thank you, Van, because you've
given me a precious strength. Does everyone hurt like this when they're in love? This loneliness
is deeper than the dark night, but it all just makes us shine brighter. To love someone is to run
along the path of the wind of the changing seasons-- completely free. I know I can believe in
you, even on the coldest nights.
Everything there is for two people is there so they can shine. Surely that's true. It might all be
lost tomorrow, the way I lost you, but smiling faces will continue to shine forever. Now, even with
my tears, I appeal to you. I don't need promises, because you have given me such a precious
strength. Now, even with my eyes, I appeal to you. Though I call to you now with my tears, we
don't need any kind of promises. I'll reach out to you, even on the coldest of nights.
I believe in you, always, even in the coldest of nights.
Because, Van, it is you-- it is you I love, gazing steadily with my heart. Because I have no need
for promises, and I can draw upon the precious strength you have given me.
And as Van read the last lines, the music box beginning to run down, his eyes began to blur with
tears. With Shining Love, Hitomi. Van closed his eyes, the rose-colored pendant burning like fire
against the bare skin of his chest even as the tears burned in his eyes. The music box slowed to a
halt, one note away from the finish of the song.
"Van," came the tiny whisper, just as the last twinkling note faded into silence. He lifted his head,
not opening his eyes for fear that the tears in them would fall if he did so. "Aishiteru, Van."
"Hitomi . . ." he whispered, holding the music box gently in his hands.
"Kimi wo, kimi wo aishiteru, kokoro de mitsumete iru . . . Van."
He opened his eyes, slowly, and saw Hitomi out across the ocean, leaning against a railing, her
figure illumined by the sun. She hadn't changed a bit-- dressed in her school uniform, her athletic
bag draped over her shoulder, her face was lost in thought. She lifted her head and saw him and
for a moment her eyes widened before her beautiful features relaxed into a tender smile. "Van . .
." she said softly.
Van, one hand resting on his knee and the music box in his lap, smiled softly back. He couldn't trust his voice to say anything-- but Hitomi knew what he wanted to say without him needing to say anything. They were linked together, inexorably and permanently, and their minds were one.
Nothing would ever separate them, not another person, not time, not even the vast distance
between worlds. Silently, he told her without words how much he wanted and needed her, and
how he needed to know if she was alright.
Hitomi straightened and curled her fingers around the railing, her lips curved into a beautiful
smile. Softly, fondly, she replied, "Atashi . . . genki da yo."
.: fin :.
Author's Note: The letter Hitomi wrote to Van is full of the lyrics of "Yakusoku wa Iranai." I'm not sure whether it's overkill or not, but even so I think it holds the feeling it's supposed to. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I
enjoyed writing it.