Bring Him Home
Les Shaman Miserables
Jean Paijean stood above Marioh, a tear in his eye.
"God on high," Paijean began, starting a prayer. "Hear my prayer… in my need, you have always been there."
Paijean looked at Marioh again, sleeping peacefully under the shady cover of the barricade. "He is young… he's afraid! Let him rest, heaven blessed… bring him home… bring him home…"
Marioh stirred slightly, but Paijean continued. "Bring him home… He's like the son I might have known, if God had granted me a son. The summers die, one by one – how soon they fly! And I am old, and will be gone…"
Marioh rolled over. Paijean could just imagine his beloved daughter Annette by his side for the rest of her life.
"Bring him peace," Paijean requested gently. "Bring him joy. He is young… he is only a boy!"
A bottle fell onto the ground. Paijean whirled around. Hitosa had let her grip loosen on the bottle she clutched in her left hand, for Enjolren's palm was upon her right hand.
Shakily, Paijean continued. "You can take… you can give. Let him be – let him live! If I die, let me die – let him live, bring him home! Bring him home… bring him… home…"
Paijean lied down near the planning table, a distance away from Marioh, and nodded off to sleep.
A/N: Yep, this is just about the shortest chapter of this saga so far. I've had this one written since the beginning (since it was so easy to write), and it's nice to know that I've already written Turning and Empty Chairs at Empty Tables… (I wrote those a while back…)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Shaman King or Les Mis. (I can just hear you guys reading this in unison with a heavy dollop of sarcasm…)