Disclaimer: I do not own Magic Knight Rayearth or any of the characters used in this story (I may create a few later on, but there are none is this part). MKR belongs to the wonderful, gifted ladies of CLAMP whom I worship daily and...uh...some other people.
Everyone should probably be aware before reading this that this is by no means a final copy. I'm not entirely happy with it right now and I hope to rewrite, revise and edit this piece pretty heavily at a later, unknown date. I'm choosing to put out this first piece separately (I really hate using chapters) because I want to get feedback before working with the rest of the story. Also, this is sort of an experiment of mine. It will almost certainly be a little dark, especially as the story progresses. It is from the Umi's point of view and it is basically the aftermath of the first season. It is based on the manga version as I prefer that to the anime.
Okay, I'm done babbling now, you may proceed ^_^
**I screamed, letting all of the anguish consuming my heart echo in the blackened sky. My voice, the shrill voice of a school girl and the booming voice of an inhuman machine mingled with the shrieks of my friends. I looked down at my clenched, trembling hands, but instead of my own hands I saw metallic claws glinting in with the fading light of spells. My innocent, child-like appearance had been forsaken for this monster, this mechanical demon. I was no longer Ryuuzaki Umi, just as my friends were no longer Shidou Hikaru or Houji Fuu. We were merely a pawn in this horrific struggle, a weapon to be used and manipulated as we had been all along.
We lunged foreword, compelled by the duty imbedded within our minds and grief in our shredded hearts. With ruthless violence that perfectly matched the twisted creation we had become, we reached for the heart of our opponent. With one strike, we tore it from it's mechanical shell, the living, breathing soul of this android.
A woman, appearing to be strangely fragile in contrast to her machine soared through the air, the wind tossing her golden hair around her battered body as she fell towards the oblivion below. I felt tears in my eyes, even though a Mashin could not cry, I found myself longing to sob, for what was lost, for the grim future and the ruined past, for the woman torn to pieces by fate and for the two girls fighting with me, who had been children only a little while ago...**
I woke up, my lips parted in a silent scream and salty tears still tracing trails down my pale cheeks. My eyes opened immediately, scanning my surroundings for some sign of devastating battle, but they were met with the familiar setting of my room. I sat up abruptly, shaking uncontrollably. The dream had come to me again, as intense and vivid as though I were actually experiencing the awful scene again.
How long had it been since that fateful day when my world turned upside-down? It had already been a week, maybe more. I hadn't really bothered to keep track of time since then. Days were merely a monotonous routine with little change. I laughed, I sympathized, I chatted, I lied. The fragments of my heart screamed in pain, but I allowed none of it to show on my deceptive face.
My friends, no, I don't know if they should even be called that anymore, suspected nothing. They fell for my pitiful act. Or perhaps they did not fall for it. Perhaps they understood that something was wrong but not wishing to disturb the order of their lives had pretended they did not see. I had been like that once too.
Yes, that was what I had been like. I didn't want to shatter my fragile illusion of a perfectly simple, black and white world. I was far too wrapped up in my own stupid emotions to see what was right before my eyes. I was blind, selfish, naïve and ignorant. I was a fool.
I had come to Cephiro that way, had met people courageous beyond all imagining had showed them only insolence and disrespect. When we had met Clef, what had he thought of that adolescent bitch that had been me. His heart had been crying, just as mine did every day now. He had struggled through a battle painful beyond my comprehension and I had shown up and sneered at him. I wouldn't listen, wouldn't understand.
Baka! I raged silently. The signs had been presented to us. Small hints had been given. Why, why, why, couldn't I have figured them out sooner? I might have been able to alter Emeraude's or Zagato's fate, I might have been able to save them or prevent the suffering of Cephiro's people. But no, I, the legendary Magic Knight had failed. I had been too arrogant, too idiotic, too much like myself...
I cringed internally at my own violent accusations, but let the guilt pour over me. I deserved guilt. I was a murderer, a brat, a foolish, foolish child. I did not know how much of this I could take. The truth hurt so terribly.
The door opened with an audible squeal. Light flooded in from the hallway, casting shadows about my darkened room. I rolled over slightly so that my dampened face was pressed against the softness of my pillow. It was time to lie again, to pretend, to act, just like always.
"Umi, dear, are you all right?" my mother's voice queried. "You sounded like you were having a bad dream. Do you want to talk about it?" I love my mother. Most of my friends have told me that they barely ever talk to theirs anymore, that they really don't care about them. I'm not that way. My mother is a wonderful, beautiful person and I have always looked up to her. She's so caring and thoughtful, so unlike me. Even now, in the middle of the night her voice was soothing without any trace of irritation that mine would have.
I would have liked nothing better than to crawl into her lap like a little girl and sob into her nightgown. I ached to tell her everything, to confess what I had done and let my guilt go for now. I toyed with the idea briefly, knowing that in the end, logic and reality would win, but allowing my mind to play with the possibility for a moment or two. It would have been a relief, but she would never believe me. This torturous secret must be my burden alone.
"I'm fine, mom. Honestly, you worry too much about me. I don't remember what I was dreaming about," I said casually. My mother hesitated. I could not see her as my face was plastered to my pillow, but I could almost feel the flicker of doubt in her eyes. She knew that something was wrong, though she did not understand it yet.
"Oh, sleep well then," she said hesitantly. She paused, waiting for me to say something. When she was met only with my stony silence she exited, shutting the door behind her. I was left once again alone to my thoughts. I attempted to release my breath, but my throat had tightened too much. I lay in the velvety, concealing darkness of my room shuddering, too paralyzed with feelings I could not even begin to name to think rationally.
I uttered another choked sob, forcing air into my lungs. My thoughts had become incoherent by then. They were now no more than a confused jumble of guilt, fury, pity and anguish. Eventually, I must have drifted off into the haven of sleep. It is a wonderful thing, to sleep. Sometimes these days I wish I could sleep forever, away from doubt and pain, away from these memories...