Disclaimer: I do not own Megami Kohousei, Ernest, Gareas, Leena, Tune…etc.
Summary: Ernest yearns for solitude. But what is the message of the white bird?
Warnings: Argh…I seem to be stuck on angst. Don't worry though; I plan to lighten things up by next chapter. If however, things get darker, I'll have to change the rating to PG-13. As always, please R&R!
Chapter 3 – Deception
Of all the dreams that Ernest had ever dreamt, he remembered the recurring one with the sunlight most vividly. The world around him was almost hazy in the light. Beneath his bare feet, he felt soft grass, but the blades weren't green like the ones planted in the relaxation room. Everything was dyed pale, made airy. Ernest felt as if he were floating. In the gentle space, Ernest hung for a long while. Then he saw the white bird. Flying slowly toward him. He reached out a hand high above him. The bird streaked by. He caught a glimpse of a black dewdrop eye, and for a moment along his fingertips, he felt the velvet flutter of wings. Then the world burst around him. The light grew bright enough to almost hurt in its sweetness.
The bird was gone, but from the sky rained thousands of white feathers.
Ernest dreamt that dream the day before he decided to ignore Gareas.
"Hey! You! Wait up!"
Ernest ignored the shout and walked faster.
"I'm talking to you, 39!"
His number was shouted between gritted teeth. Suddenly, a hand grabbed his right shoulder, and yanked him backwards. A furious face greeted him. The green eyes were blazing.
"What's with you Ernest?! You've been colder than a fish!"
Ernest's mouth tightened.
"I don't get you at all! Today at practice, you didn't radio me at all! We're partners! Why'd you have to be so stupid as to chase after 36?! I had two pairs on my back, and you left me there to die!!" Gareas waited for an answer. Silence greeted him. His hand tightened on Ernest's shoulder.
"Then I thought, okay, the man's just a gotten a little carried away by battle lust. Although, I didn't think you were capable of that. But then you purposely snub me and Leena when we offer you a seat during lunch!! Maybe I got you angry at me for something I did, but you just met Leena yesterday!"
Ernest turned his head away to the left, and stared at his reflection in the hall.
"Ernest!"
Ernest stiffened, and turned his body. His back had been to Gareas the whole time. On his clothed shoulder, Gareas' hand loosened. Gareas still had not touched Ernest's skin directly. At the end of some of their more spectacular practices, Gareas had almost reached out to embrace his partner in elation before he remembered 39 was a telepath. It was awkward when Gareas withdrew, and gingerly patted the cloth on his shoulder, as if it might come alive and snap at his hand.
"Let go of me."
Gareas almost flinched at the low tone.
"Let. Go. Of. Me."
The voice was almost a growl now. Ernest's eyes were ice. Gareas felt his hand slip.
A shuffling of feet.
The two boys turned. They had not noticed the girl standing there. She was petite with short azure hair, and the ID clipped to the light gray of her repairer uniform read 39.
"E-Ernest-san. A-Ano…"
Her nervousness entered into his mind like a trembling mouse. It was uncomfortable. As a telepathist, Ernest had been dealing with other's emotions for all of his life. This time, he decided to do something he never did before; he decided to walk away.
He left Tune-san in her embarrassment. Gareas in his confusion.
In his room, Ernest brushed away a twinge of guilt and forced himself into bed. He stared at the ceiling. Unlike most other candidates, his room wasn't shared. Those who were inexperienced with the telepathic-emphatic EX had tended to go wandering into their roommates' minds or emotions in their sleep. Although Ernest had vastly improved since arriving at GOA, he did not asked to be re-situated. Here, in his room, he could only hear his own thoughts, his own feelings.
Here, he found some relief.
Here, Ernest was alone.
Ernest felt his eyelids droop.
He was back in the white world. The bird was again flying toward him, like it had in all his recurring dreams since the first. It's white feathers seemed even more ethereal than usual. He began to reach up his hand, but a pain began to lance through his arm. It was unfamiliar; he had never felt it before. Instead of making the effort of struggling, he decided to let his hand fall. He sighed in relief when the burning sensation stopped. The bird flew away, it wings untouched. From the sky rained thousands of white feathers. Ernest smiled, and bent down. He cradled a soft feather in his hand.
It turned black and crumbled to dust.
Ernest cried out.
All around him, the feathers on the ground withered to ashes. The ones still falling from the sky were now wet droplets. They felt like cold and empty on his skin like the metallic walls of GOA. It poured and Ernest began to shiver. Some how, he'd felt as if he'd been lied to.
39 jolted up out of bed, sweating. He wrapped his arms around his knees, breaking the last vestiges of his dream.
Alone in his room, 39 felt relief.
Ernest hugged himself tighter.
Relief… wasn't contentment.
Alone in his room, Ernest buried his head between his knees. Alone, 39 couldn't deceive himself any longer.
TBC…