None of the Pretear Characters belong to me. It with great respect that I
borrow them and put my own thoughts and words into their mouths, and
actions into their hands.
The Cold Wind of Winter
By
jerjonji
The raw winter wind blew in through the cracks in the old church building, leaving small piles of fine white snow on the carpet, and around the edges of the battered pews. Tattered hymnal pages fluttered uselessly in the icy draft.
Hayate blew on his frozen fingers to warm them, but the moisture from his breath chilled them worse than he ignored the aching chill. He lay on the hard wooden pew, his hands behind his head, watching the shattered colored glass splinters dance on the ceiling in the fading daylight.
The shadows on the ceiling grew larger as day changed into evening. He knew he'd be missed at home, but he longed for the solitude the old church offered. The place where his mistake began called to him frequently, and here he relived his betrayal, thoughtlessness, and sin. Here he could be honest with himself and the cost of his behavior. Here he could grieve the loss of three brothers privately.
A loose hymn page blew across the floor in front of him. He pointed at it, and it flew into the air. He made it dance in the breeze, but let it drop quickly, bored with it already. He sighed. Goh would have supper cooked, and his would be cold if he didn't leave now. But he couldn't leave, frozen to the pew and his memories.
Takako was the first Leife princess he prêt-ed with, and his cheeks flushed remembering how warm it felt merging with her. It stung to see her struggling with her fear. He was grateful that she was willing to fight in spite of her fear. She was brave and he just wanted to see her smile, see grow confident in her abilities. He was sure that by showing her how much he appreciated her efforts, she'd gain a renewed sense of strength. Kei warned him constantly about controlling himself, about holding a part of himself aloof, but he wasn't very good at following orders, especially from Kei.
"I want to be with you, Hayate. I love you."
He replayed her words as if they were a broken record. He watched her crumble at his rejection. His heart exploded at her reaction, and then he knew the gravity of his arrogance, of his sin. It was his fault. If he'd listened to Kei, if he'd been more careful, if he'd had not enjoyed seeing her smile.
The list of if's was endless.
She turned away from him, and he felt the warmth of her love turning to hate, stunning him with its force. With a feeling of dread building inside him, warning him to back away, he watched the transformation of the Knight Princess into the Saihi, the Disaster Queen. He looked away, unable to watch, unwilling to protect himself from the woman who loved him.
The flash of purple light stunned him, causing burning pain to shoot through him. He lifted his hand up, "No, Takako!" he cried out, unable to bring himself to defend himself. The stain glass windows exploded, showering him with colored glass confetti. The pews between them shattered into piles of kindling wood.
The next violet bolt threw him in the air. He smashed into the floor, rolling in agony. Blinded from the pain, he closed his eyes, feeling warm, sticky blood flowing out between his fingers as he held his side. He forced open his eyes, and looked at the source of his anguish. Their eyes met, and hers burned with hatred. She raised her hand for a final shot.
"Gomen nasai[1], Tokako," he whispered, aware the next blast would kill him. He closed his eyes waiting for the final assault. He heard Sasame's voice, and opened his eyes in time to see Sasame's white cloak swimming in front of him, taking the strike Takako meant for him, distracting Takako so Hayate could roll beyond her reach. Sasame, putting himself in danger so he could live, fell to the ground, hitting it with a solid thump, lying unconscious on the sanctuary floor.
He pulled himself to standing and stood in front of Sasame, guarding him. "Gomen nasai, Tokako," he said, gasping for breath. The other knights joined him, setting up a protective guard around the two injured knights and Takako disappeared before the others could attack her, leaving behind a fine plum trail of haze..
It was his fault, he thought. His own carelessness caused his brothers' death. He felt tears flowing down his face into his ears. He wiped them away, grieving over their deaths. Never again, he reminded himself. Never again!
He'd learned his lesson. Next time, he'd be cold and restrained, not letting the new Pretear see the real "Hayate". He could be as cold as Mannen, the Knight of Ice if he wanted. He would be the Wind of Winter.
Next time-
Next time-
----------------------- [1] Sorry in Japanese
The Cold Wind of Winter
By
jerjonji
The raw winter wind blew in through the cracks in the old church building, leaving small piles of fine white snow on the carpet, and around the edges of the battered pews. Tattered hymnal pages fluttered uselessly in the icy draft.
Hayate blew on his frozen fingers to warm them, but the moisture from his breath chilled them worse than he ignored the aching chill. He lay on the hard wooden pew, his hands behind his head, watching the shattered colored glass splinters dance on the ceiling in the fading daylight.
The shadows on the ceiling grew larger as day changed into evening. He knew he'd be missed at home, but he longed for the solitude the old church offered. The place where his mistake began called to him frequently, and here he relived his betrayal, thoughtlessness, and sin. Here he could be honest with himself and the cost of his behavior. Here he could grieve the loss of three brothers privately.
A loose hymn page blew across the floor in front of him. He pointed at it, and it flew into the air. He made it dance in the breeze, but let it drop quickly, bored with it already. He sighed. Goh would have supper cooked, and his would be cold if he didn't leave now. But he couldn't leave, frozen to the pew and his memories.
Takako was the first Leife princess he prêt-ed with, and his cheeks flushed remembering how warm it felt merging with her. It stung to see her struggling with her fear. He was grateful that she was willing to fight in spite of her fear. She was brave and he just wanted to see her smile, see grow confident in her abilities. He was sure that by showing her how much he appreciated her efforts, she'd gain a renewed sense of strength. Kei warned him constantly about controlling himself, about holding a part of himself aloof, but he wasn't very good at following orders, especially from Kei.
"I want to be with you, Hayate. I love you."
He replayed her words as if they were a broken record. He watched her crumble at his rejection. His heart exploded at her reaction, and then he knew the gravity of his arrogance, of his sin. It was his fault. If he'd listened to Kei, if he'd been more careful, if he'd had not enjoyed seeing her smile.
The list of if's was endless.
She turned away from him, and he felt the warmth of her love turning to hate, stunning him with its force. With a feeling of dread building inside him, warning him to back away, he watched the transformation of the Knight Princess into the Saihi, the Disaster Queen. He looked away, unable to watch, unwilling to protect himself from the woman who loved him.
The flash of purple light stunned him, causing burning pain to shoot through him. He lifted his hand up, "No, Takako!" he cried out, unable to bring himself to defend himself. The stain glass windows exploded, showering him with colored glass confetti. The pews between them shattered into piles of kindling wood.
The next violet bolt threw him in the air. He smashed into the floor, rolling in agony. Blinded from the pain, he closed his eyes, feeling warm, sticky blood flowing out between his fingers as he held his side. He forced open his eyes, and looked at the source of his anguish. Their eyes met, and hers burned with hatred. She raised her hand for a final shot.
"Gomen nasai[1], Tokako," he whispered, aware the next blast would kill him. He closed his eyes waiting for the final assault. He heard Sasame's voice, and opened his eyes in time to see Sasame's white cloak swimming in front of him, taking the strike Takako meant for him, distracting Takako so Hayate could roll beyond her reach. Sasame, putting himself in danger so he could live, fell to the ground, hitting it with a solid thump, lying unconscious on the sanctuary floor.
He pulled himself to standing and stood in front of Sasame, guarding him. "Gomen nasai, Tokako," he said, gasping for breath. The other knights joined him, setting up a protective guard around the two injured knights and Takako disappeared before the others could attack her, leaving behind a fine plum trail of haze..
It was his fault, he thought. His own carelessness caused his brothers' death. He felt tears flowing down his face into his ears. He wiped them away, grieving over their deaths. Never again, he reminded himself. Never again!
He'd learned his lesson. Next time, he'd be cold and restrained, not letting the new Pretear see the real "Hayate". He could be as cold as Mannen, the Knight of Ice if he wanted. He would be the Wind of Winter.
Next time-
Next time-
----------------------- [1] Sorry in Japanese