Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.
Chi-Town Nights
Chapter 4:
Of Cats and Sunglasses
*November 29, 2002 3:43 A.M.
Folken Lacour De Fanel
The older ones believe to forget one's past is to lose all sight of the future. Do those elders realize what it is like to live with a past that is reminiscent of an open wound? How wondrous it would be to let go of these scars! And yet how very unwise it would be to let them fade into nothingness. We learn from the damage we cause. At least we are meant to. Sometimes I'm not sure I've learned the right lessons. If only I had come to an understanding of certain relationships. I've had so few relationships. I remember the times when there was only coldness to embrace. Those memories could very well destroy me with their remoteness… But before then, before I locked myself away from the world there were moments of good. Moments where I felt love within my heart for my blood kin. Once I laughed with him, once I walked with him, his hand in mine. It was all so long ago. Another time, another place.
And now it's not the tender young face of my brother that haunts me, but the trusting faces of dead phantoms. Oh how they believed in me, how easily they accepted my words. And I cared for them because they were as lost as I, as unfortunate as I. Taking them in was like a small piece of redemption for my failure. All I knew was how to command their obedience through kindness. Sometimes I wonder if I truly used them. Selfish, yes of course. Soldiers for Zaibach, children of fate. Damn that word: fate. How cursed it all is. Luck, fate, destiny, what are these but more of the damned ideals we corrupt? They fell to those ideals. They fell to my ideals. Their faith was in me, not in righteousness of the work, and it was that faith that led to their demise. Like blind servants they fought for me, nothing and no one else, but me.
I'm so sorry. Forgive me, Zongi. Forgive me, Naria, Eriya. I have no right to ask for that forgiveness… Somehow I know that I have it though. Somehow I know they've forgiven me. Such selfless love, what incredible devotion. Are humans capable of possessing such emotions? I guess my question is truly this: Am I capable of possessing such emotions?
But she doesn't want that from me. Gods we are too alike. Neither of us feels we are worthy of honor such as that. But she is. She really is.*
Waiting as the phone rang he lightly sketched a friendly looking dragon on the pad of paper on his desk. Next to the dragon a young girl with cat ears and a tail took shape. He smirked at the picture with a shake of his head.
Startling him a feminine voice spoke on the line, "Hello?"
Impatiently scratching out his drawings he answered anxiously, "Um, Merle- I mean is Merle there?"
"Van? Oh- I'm so glad you called- I thought you might be calling sometime soon! How are you?" He could hear the smile in the woman's voice. It was not the smile he was hoping for.
"Oh, hey Millerna- ugh- fine. Is- Merle there?" He scratched his head, trying not to sound intolerant.
"Yeah, sure, hold on a moment," Millerna replied. There was silence on the line and he dropped his eyes to the paper again, his hand scribbling out a tree. The tree took on life as he waited, the limbs stretching wide as the leaves sprouted. There was a sudden clatter, and the sound of women arguing. There was a loud thud in Van's ear and he winced, bringing the phone away. He grimaced placing the phone back against his ear.
"Van?" Came the anxious voice of the girl from his drawing. What a pleasant sound. He reveled in the sound of his name, smiling to himself.
"Lord Van? Are you there?" The girl pressed eagerly, curling the phone cord around her finger.
"Yeah, it's me Merle," He shook his head at the scrambling noise, "Quit playing with the cord, Merle, you're making the phone fuzzy."
"Oh," She abruptly released her toy, "I'm sorry, Lord Van."
Nostalgia wrapped around him like a blanket he chuckled, "How are you, Ms. Kitty?"
She couldn't help the tears that rose in her eyes as she replied, "I'm really good, Van. How are you?" The maturity in her voice was still new to him. True she'd been growing quite fast in the last three years, but he couldn't see her as anything but a little girl. The picture in his mind was untainted by modern clothing and make-up. He'd gotten used to the human face, devoid of the whiskers and ears. Nothing was left of the cat, but the eyes keen and savvy with feline wisdom. The pink hair dye in the blond hair was one of the only things reminiscent of the girl she used to be.
"I'm doing okay," Van finally shrugged, "Nothing new has popped up… What about you? How's school?" Wiping the tears from her eyes she laughed out of pure happiness.
Sniffing she answered with a wide smile, "Well, school's well. I've kept up on all my work. I was sick a couple days last week, but I turned everything in on time. It was just a cold…" She paused biting on the tip of one of her blue painted nails. "How's Hitomi? Is she there? Can I talk to her?" She asked, her excitement a reminder of her tendency to be the child she once was.
He laughed shaking his head as though she were there to see him, "No, she's in class. She had a class at ten this morning… Actually I have a class in a few minutes, I just thought I'd call- ya know?" He held in a sigh, regretting that he could not delay much longer. After all, it was so nice to hear her voice. Merle looked down, her hand clasping around the phone cord again. Who needs a security blanket when you have a phone cord? The cool plastic was comforting somehow. Her eyebrows drew together in an expression of sadness.
"I should let you go then, huh?" She sighed, "You have to catch up on a lot of work I bet. You haven't slept… I know- I felt it…" She knew him so well. The distance had never threatened their connection. "I'm really glad you called, Lord Van," Merle cheered slightly.
"Yeah… I- um- it's been nice talking to you, Merle," He rubbed the back of his neck forcing a smile, "I've- gotta get going."
She nodded, "Alright."
"Good-bye, Merle," He said.
"Good-bye, Lord Van… Love you." She swallowed the lump forming in her throat.
"Love you, too. I'll call again soon, okay, Merle?" He assured her.
The tears sprang to her eyes again and she smiled, "Okay." The salt water fell to her cheeks as she closed her eyes listening to the dial tone.
The sun wasn't out, but she wore sunglasses. She was indoors, but still she wore a pair of blue box frame sunglasses low on her nose as she skimmed over a book. No one said anything, though she was seated 'Indian Style' on the round table top completely ignoring the fact that there were two perfectly good chairs at the table. She was completely flaunting the fact that she made little sense. Cut off jean shorts and black pantyhose in the winter? The short gray Columbia College sweatshirt she wore was about the only thing that seemed to reflect any good judgment. But good judgment had never been her strong suit. Her headphones resting around her collar blasted Shakira's original style of rock into her ears. The "Donde estan los ladrones?" CD case sat by her side. A copy of "The October Horse" rested in her heavily ringed hands. She was a different kind of punk after all.
"You make an interesting picture, do you mind if I sketch you?" He sat down, his sketch pad in hand, a pencil poised to draw.
"As long as I come out like Marilyn Monroe." She replied in a distracted tone, flipping the page.
"I'll do my best." He replied already focused completely on the task at hand. They sat in silence for several minutes, him sketching away furiously, and her pouring through the book at a rather quick rate. When Hitomi sat down on the other side of the table, neither even looked her way though they were both aware of her presence. She knew it was no use speaking to either so she too opened a book and began to read. College students are so predictable.
"Could you move to the right a little?" Van asked glancing up for a moment, then dropping his gaze to his work.
"Not unless you want a portrait of me falling on my ass." She returned tonelessly, still fully lost in the read.
"Works for me." He said shading the picture carefully. Several more minutes of intense concentration and he had finished. Hitomi looked up to see his trademark frown as he eyed the drawing. Like all artists he was incredibly critical of his work. What a crock, that sentence is so overused. Ah well, we can't be perfectly original all the time. Looking disenchanted Van sighed and handed the notebook to Hitomi. She took it eagerly and studied it with a smile. It was plucked from her grasp after a second and she looked up to see Lani look it over with an expressionless face.
Looking over the rim of her glasses at him she teased, "This is crap. I don't look anything like Marilyn."
"What can I say? The un-blondeness of your hair threw me off." He responded with a shrug. She smirked smacking the pad against his chest as she slid from the table to her feet.
"Next time try harder, Picasso." She scoffed pushing her glasses back to rest on top her head.
"Whatever you say, Devil's Spit." He smiled at her.
"It's Heavenly Sea to you, Dragon Breath." She slapped him in the back of the head as she passed. At the counter she ordered an Italian Soda tapping out a beat with her hands.
"If I didn't know you two better, I'd say you hated one another." Hitomi shook her head with a smile, placing her book on the table.
"Who needs hate when you'd love to see someone fall off the Sears Tower?" Van joked rubbing the back of his head.
"Exactly, hurting people is only a way of proving your affection." Lani appeared to cuff him again. She smiled sweetly as she dragged a chair from another table and sat down. She ignored the glare Van shot at her as he rubbed at his head again. Pushing the drink in her hand toward Hitomi she said, "Caramel."
After taking a sip Hitomi commented, "It's a wonder you two aren't related. At least not yet." Smiling slyly she handed the cup back to her friend.
"Hopefully we never will be." Lani replied instantly, the edge to her voice obvious. Hitomi frowned, and Van rolled his eyes. He knew his brother had done something stupid. Sure he knew that Lani had other reasons to disapprove of marriage, but those things had little to do with her reaction. His thoughts were confirmed as he watched the woman quickly write the words "jackass" and "egomaniac" on a napkin. Yep, his brother had definitely done something worthy of those titles.
"Please tell me this is not about Fa(c)et again." Hitomi sighed fixing Lani with a sympathetic stare.
"Nope, it's about not serving the lord and master," She said quickly getting to her feet, "Got a thing, see ya later, I'm out." Gathering her book and messenger bag she flashed the couple a smile and headed toward the door. When the bell over the door had sounded her exit Hitomi picked up the Italian Soda and quietly gnawed on the end of the straw. Simultaneously the two sighed and exchanged a knowing glance.