Disclaimer: I own none of the characters from Digimon and do not have the permission of the proper owners to write this work of fiction, which exists purely for the non-profit purpose of enjoyment.
Chapter One, part one: Wayward
Rustef's bleary eyes roamed up and down the shore, the cries of seabirds grating against his ears. It was hard to see much in the dim predawn. But as far as he could tell, there wasn't a soul in sight. The sigh of the waves sprawling on the coarse sand and sinking back revealed nothing to him. Mayhap Aunue had caught the brat sneaking into her territory on some midnight romp and pounced, ensnaring and claiming him for all time.
The man swore softly. Only one set of fading footprints dotted the sand at the water's edge and the dunes above—his own. The heavy prints nailed the facts deeper into him: with the boy gone, he'd have to work twice as hard to haul the catch in each evening. That was sure to shorten the amount of living years he could look forward to. But then again, the fish were dwindling with each passing season. The small family had been feeling the pinch of hunger tightening on them since spring. They would only have survived the winter if Mistel had seen fit to grant them a miracle.
Maybe things would be different now. With Kouji gone, it was only one less stomach to fill. His and Larani's survival would be almost guaranteed, now that they would each get a bigger cut of the fish this year.
Rustef sighed and kicked up some loose clumps of dirt at his feet, cursing again. Larani… she was well beyond childbearing age. It would be just her and him now. Besides, a babe would do more harm than good in the impending shortage. In times past the little thing might have been a symbol of hope and promise for them, but Rustef had let go of hope long ago—Larani even earlier. She'd carried two children before and after Kouji, and lost them both before they were born.
Hope did them no practical favors. Hope might have temporarily bolstered their spirits once, but it had so far done nothing to deliver them from their poverty. Fourteen years ago, their new child had given him such hope… such false hope…
He shook his head, staring absently at the dark grey, lumpy cloud cover becoming slowly revealed by the hidden sunrise. The boy seemed to have been born almost without hope—whatever hope he'd had was beaten out of him eventually. But as a little boy, he did have some—Kouji had been enthralled with by the laughing waves under the night sky, studded with glittering stars; the idea of commanding a great ship and sailing all over the world…
Rustef was slightly startled to realize that he was smiling faintly at the memory. He thought he'd forgotten how to smile. It all went to show what sort of boost the boy had once brought to his weary, crusty old soul. But the lad's dreams turned him right willful, as he neglected his work to gaze at the night sky. The man's face hardened as the little smile faded into his habitual frown once more. Beating the boy was the only way for him to gain any sense. Rustef's own father had disciplined him that way, as had his grandfather before him, and his grandfather's father, and so on all the way back to the very first fisherman, molded from wet sand by Soprotae and Aunue and enlivened by Mistel. It was just the way to do it. Being all soft on boys only meant that they became starving delinquents as adults.
But as his son matured under the discipline, Rustef had watched the light in Kouji's eyes wither into bitterness. The man couldn't remember anything relevant of his own childhood besides hard work without end, but he wondered: had his own father gone through the same thing, watching youthful idealism fade into the gruff practicality of adulthood? Then again, he had never bolted away overnight without leaving a trace.
Rustef turned around and began trudging back up to the windswept little hut overlooking the sea, trying to will all the ponderings out of his head. Walking about with one's head in the clouds only shortened one's road to Gorothin's pits. He shook himself mentally, reminding his mind that it yet belonged in Soprotae's realm, not Mistel's.
It was dank and musty inside their tiny, cramped house, but Rustef hardly noticed the cloying stagnation of the air; nor did he feel the hard-packed dirt floor shift under the pressure of his feet. He'd long lost track of how many years he'd called this shack 'home'.
"Well?" The question was mumbled more to the creaky timber wall than to him. The fisherman sighted in on the compact form of his wife, hunched over several baskets of dried fish near the back wall.
"He's gone," Rustef grunted.
"Good rid to him," Larani grumbled after the barest moment of silence. "'E's been more trouble than is worth feeding. Damn good of him to up and pack hisself off afore 'e got it in his head to shred the nets to bare strings, or…"
He rolled his eyes, letting his wife ramble on about their son's faults and shortcomings. The man—and, come to think of it, the boy himself—had listened to enough of such rants over the years to know their contents by heart. Rustef paid them no mind, but just now a thought struck him for the first time: for all that Kouji had appeared to sit through his mother's tirades with utter indifference, what feelings had he harbored in his soul about such stinging criticisms?
An impatient calling of his name brought him back to reality. "Eh, woman?" he growled as a form of requesting repetition.
"Ye know where 'e off to? Saw aught of him?"
"Not one gods-curst trace. 'E might've run off and…" Rustef trailed off as he realized just what theory he had been about to put forth. Was it really possible? Could even such a morose young soul as his offspring actually—
"Aye, he's already bolted, husband—or has the reek of rotting fishmeat leaked into your brain that ye've just now noticed?" Larani's interjection chopped harshly into his train of thought as the woman shuffled around to fix him with a hawkish glare.
Rustef only stared back at her. Larani had been something near attractive when they had wed, fifteen years ago or thereabouts—he couldn't remember for sure. However many the years had been, the drudgery they'd brought on had taken its toll on the woman he shared his life with. The female that faced him was now a haggard, bone-thin wretch, bent and worn with cares and troubles.
"He… mayhap 'e gave hisself up to Aunue. Gone an' sacrificed hisself…" Rustef's voice was even rougher than usual. That boy would have to have been drained right dry of hope and happiness to have done such a thing. Aye, but he's been stirrin' up naught but trouble all this past week, he tried to reason with himself. If 'e was so miserable an' bothersome, the world's better off without 'im.
"If Aunue's claimed the brat, just as well," grunted Larani. "Leastways we ain't starvin' this winter, what with 'im gone. 'E was naught but useless in his las' days. I's already said it—good rid to 'im."
"Aye," her husband muttered. But Rustef couldn't help stealing one fleeting glance over his shoulder, out the doorway back at the moody sky, a dark grey-blue smear in the predawn light. Somewhere behind that thick cloudy cloak were hidden the fading moon and dimming stars, retreating from the sun's concealed but steady advance. The grey waves chuckled slightly as they lapped against the shore.
Maybe Kouji was still alive. Maybe he'd gone off in search of a new life; the boy may yet have a trickle of hope still flowing in his blood. And maybe—just maybe—he might one night sail under the glinting stars, heading off to adventure in the far reaches of the world yet untracked.
Perhaps the gods would smile upon him and grant the boy the happiness he'd been deprived of all his life. Until then, Rustef could only wish his son the best of luck.
Well I'm packing my bags 'cause I don't wanna be
The only one who's drowning in their misery
And I'll take that chance 'cause I just wanna breathe
And I won't look back and wonder how it's supposed to be
How it's supposed to be…
—Michelle Branch, "Empty Handed"
Reviewer Responses
Gemmani Girl: Yes, well, I suppose we'll all fall into the flow at one point or another. But until then and even after then nobody's perfect. It would indeed be interesting to include Kouichi and the twins factor, but for this fic Kouji will be an only child. You actually added this into your favourites? I'm honoured! Glad you like it this much!
Akino Ame: I suppose neither you nor I should be surprised that I'm not the first one you've inspired. ;-) Thanks for the recommendation, I'll look into that. (And you could have recommended your own With Broken Wings, you know…) No, I never watched much Zoids, but interesting analogy there—especially with the character you named, "Raven", hmm… funny. And another funny thing: I had in fact been thinking vaguely of the Tortallan pantheon—Ganiel the Dream King, Mithros, the Black God and the Great Mother Goddess in particular—when I created Mistel, Aunue, Soprotae and Gorothin. I read on your bio that you like the "Circle of Magic" series; I've only read the first book but I find it very intriguing. I myself am a big fan of Tamora Pierce's Tortallan quartets; Protector of the Small in particular. You really should read it if you haven't already. You really think I have good skills? I'm honoured, thank you! (P.S. I don't have any particular favourites for the first two seasons, but I am a Ryuki fan.) ;-)
chibi minamoto: Heh, your review made me laugh a bit, no offence meant. Sorry if you find the plot confusing; some of my stories just turn out that way. [Edit: I hate to burst a bubble, but I have reversed my counsel and decided not to say anything regarding romance.] This story is meant to contain mostly adventure, drama, peril and suspense. Hope you'll still like it like that.
reviewer 101: Don't worry, I will keep up on this, good quality and all! Just as long as there are good people like you around to appreciate it. Yes, I do try to get the paragraphing in a good arrangement; it always ticked me off as a lurker when the formatting was all messed up. I'm trying very hard to avoid any clichés or predictable moments—I always hated those.
Kouzumi Freak: Wow, I'm making your favourites list already? Thanks! [Edit: But as I have said before, I am no longer saying anything regarding romance or couples.] Zoë and Kouji won't even meet till… hmm, give it a couple of chapters, and I'm not saying anything else. ;) And anyhow this story is designed to focus primarily on the plot, secondarily on the couple. Sorry if that disappoints you.