The Visit


She smelled of flowers and perfume and everything lovely that he felt like there was no way he could let go of her, not just because of the heavenly aroma in which he was drowning in, but most especially because he had come so far just to hold her in his arms once more. He dared to leave his home, his friends --- who he considered, at the same time, his family --- to embark on a journey across the tumultuous seas, just so he could be with the woman who held his heart.

It had been a most difficult task. He had to spend a fortune, selling everything he had for that said fortune, in order to get himself a ticket on the large ship that had set its course for Holland. Saying goodbye had been an extremely painstaking task, too. The people he had been with had become so close to him that it was difficult to let go. He knew, however, that he will never be complete without the other half of his soul, so he sacrificed the many for the one woman he so treasured.

She was standing in front of him by then, emerald eyes brimming with tears of profound joy, yet gleaming with much happiness --- happiness that he had never seen in her before. It had only been a few heartbeats ever since their last embrace, but she flung her arms around him once again, her long, brown hair cascading beautifully down her back.

Beautiful. That was what she was, and even that was an obvious understatement. She was an angel, to be precise, just with her majestic wings clipped off and her golden halo unseen by his human eyes.

They never spoke a word. As they pulled away from each other, away from their warm embrace, they began to stroll through the lush Holland landscape, gazing at the sea of tulips --- red, yellow, and blue --- with childlike awe and wonder. Then, she grabbed his hand and led him away from the garden of swirling colors and towards a barn, where cows and sheep and other animals grazed, and where a large windmill stood at the center of the field in all its tall glory.

Before he could even react, she started to make her way to the ledge of the windmill, climbing the steel staircase with much ease and vigor. Taking her lead, he sprinted after her, laughing as the breeze whipped her hair and made her shriek in thrill and exhiliration. He was stunned. He had never known she was fond of heights.

Finally, they made it to the top, and from where they sat they could see the port from where the ship he had ridden on had docked. Like wide-eyed children they counted the boats and ships, visible even from such a distance through their large white masts, and watched the seagulls fly from and toward everywhere. They, too, observed the little white clouds which danced through the carpet of sky blue, pointing at the random figures those wisps of cotton created here and there. It was a breathtaking, heartwarming sight, and he was glad that he was sharing it with none other than her. The woman he loved.

He took her hand silently and caressed it, remembering once more how fragile she was, and how he came so close to losing her. Then, to his surprise, she asked him to hold out his free hand --- which he promptly did --- and into it she thrust a small silver crucifix which hung from a braided black string.

He blinked, and turned to speak to her for the first time that day, in order to remind her that he didn't believe in any god, and most especially in her god. But his words were soon lost in his throat, whisked away by the melodious symphony of the morning air; as soon as their eyes caught each other, brown meeting green, he was oblivious to anything and anyone in the world... except her.

Slowly, he reached out to run his fingers down her smooth, rosy cheeks; and then, he bent forward to capture her lips with his, taking advantage of the rare opportunity he had been blessed with. The kiss soon deepened, but just as soon as it had begun, it soon had to stop, for he felt her slipping away from him...

"No!" he spoke at last, horrified beyond belief at the fading form of his beloved, but unable to do anything to prevent their untimely separation. He reached out to her, desperate, yet his efforts were all in vain. "Sayo! Don't leave me! I love you!"

And as the young woman's form completely disappeared into the bright morning sunlight, he heard the wind carry her sweet whisper, "I love you too."

~**~


Sanosuke Sagara awoke.

A dream. That was all it had been. A dream. A dream that Sayo Amakusa, his beloved, had overcome the injury Santo caused her and the disease that plagued her very existence. A dream that he had gone to Holland to live in exile with her. A dream that was the fulfillment of his fantasies, that they both might've lived happily ever after. A dream that was impossible to have been turned into reality. It didn't even have a happy ending.

Sighing, he sat up and began to get out of bed, knowing that there was no way he could drift back to sleep after such a dream, when he felt something hard and cold push itself against one of his open palms. Immediately, he yanked the blanket away...

... and found a small silver crucifix which hung from a braided black string.