Avari wind seer: I think I'm a bit like Lloyd in that aspect: not entirely sure of what I'm doing, but doing it enthusiastically until I get bored with it. Hopefully that last part will take awhile. I'm glad you liked it; I wasn't entirely sure of the style.
Dracobolt: One of the benefits of having only an outline of a plot is that making anything overly-planned out is nigh impossible. At least, I think that's a benefit. Gah, must fix spelling error! Thanks for the heads up.
Viktor Mayrin: Much thanks.
Seventh Sage: True, but the railcars do have to run on something.
ObviousMan: Once again, thank you. I hope you'll bear with me as this chapter isn't exactly the most humorous.
BrokenAngel,ForgivenDevil: The wait is, temporarily, over.
End of Response Section2/27/05 This being the last day of school break for me, the next chapter may take awhile. Maybe next Saturday, probably before the Saturday after that. Also, my writing style keeps on getting stranger, so feel free to tell me if things get confusing.
Disclaimer: Rallalon does not own Tales of Symphonia or any of its characters, locations or items. The information about the Presea flower was found at mizuho(dot)zapchu(dot)com(slash)drama(dot)htm, which she doesn't own.
.-.-.-.-.-.
Night.
She was awake.
Dark.
She could barely see.
Quiet.
"...Hello?"
She sounded loud, even to her own ears.
"Are you there?"
It had been hard enough convincing herself to actually come. What if he... No. He wouldn't do that. He'd show. She was early after all.
And once again getting rather cold because of Melissa's nightgown. Maybe she should've told Melissa instead of just leaving a note. Because when he did come and they went, she wasn't sure when she'd be back.
Martel, she wasn't even sure if he meant this as a date or not!
Alicia trusted him. She wouldn't be here waiting for him if she didn't. Still... it was times like this when she wondered. So far, she'd been out after curfew for him, more than a few times. This had to go against several more rules. Not only company ones, but ones her parents would've insisted on.
So she'd compromised with the note. Someone relatively responsible knew... roughly where she was. It would be okay. And even if something went wrong or someone tried to bother her... well, she knew the basics of self-defense. Counter and/or hit and then run away really, really fast.
She played with one of her pigtails for a bit.
Yes, things would go just fine.
She hoped.
Very much.
"...Alicia?"
And they would.
"Right here," she whispered back. "Where are you?"
"By the rear door."
"Coming..." Follow the counter, then hand on wall, doorframe, and- "!"
He let go of her hand at the sound of her gasp. "I apologize. I didn't mean to startle you."
"N-no, it's probably a good idea. We'll bump into each other like crazy or lose each other otherwise." She found his arm, his wrist, his hand. Held it.
"Follow me," he told her quietly and with, though she might have imagined it, something close to relief.
She did, her attention on her hand. More precisely, his hand. This was their first intentional physical contact. Between handing plates to each other, the continuing cutting board war, and just generally cooking in the same area, they'd brushed fingers and shoulders (technically shoulder and elbow) before. This was different, constant. She felt smaller, in over her head but obligated to go through with this. This had to be the stupidest thing she'd ever done.
Heavy footsteps, regular, rhythmic, in front of her. A large hand holding her own.
Oh well.
She thought that the Rearranger's outline glanced back on occasion, as if making sure she was still there. Alicia tightened her grip when he did that. He didn't seem to mind.
He stopped. A small light lit up.
She squinted.
Elevator.
"Close your eyes."
Out of reflex, she did so.
Ding! So loud in this quiet.
She heard the door open and light blazed through her eyelids, red-orange. Gently, always gently, he guided her in. The door closed and the elevator rose. So loud, so bright.
Ding!
Open, out, close. When she opened her eyes, it looked like everything was tinged a dark green. Or maybe blue. A gentle pull on her hand prompted her to start walking again. Another door.
Wavering light from her right allowed her to see the large desk on her left, framed by a pair of elevators. The light, as well as quiet water sounds, came from an opening in the wall.
They'd reached the main lobby.
"You sure about the tide being low enough?"
"Yes. It should remain so for several hours." In the dim light, she could see his face, his expression. She could turn back now and he wouldn't think less of her. She didn't have to walk on the elemental railway rail in the middle of the night with an older teenager whose name she didn't even know.
She was scared, terrified even, to know that she wanted to. "Then let's not waste time."
.-.-.-.-.-.
"That... was... crazy," she told him as they waited for the elemental railway to arrive at the Casino and Theater stop. "Can I ask how you learned how to do that, or do I not want to know?" She was only half-joking.
"I once saw repairmen walking on one of the rails during the day. It seemed fairly simple, though returning to the boarding stations was a problem at first."
"As long as a railcar doesn't run you over. Which would probably be the reason we're going this at night." Everything she said sounded awkward to her ears.
"Exactly."
"But what about, you know, being underage?"
"Actually, age only matters if you wish to gamble."
Huh. "Never knew that."
He looked surprised. "You've never visited the theatre here?" He sounded it too.
She shook her head, eyes focused on the structure coming into sight. That huge bridge, casino and pub on one side, theatre on the other, the entire thing lit. Wow. "Good thing we're remedying that."
The elemental railcar stopped. They got off.
Amazing how she could live in Altamira for over five years of her life, since she was eight, and have never laid eyes on this part of it. Bright lights; people walking about, laughing; couples looking out over the water at the bridge or... otherwise occupied; that fellow the casino workers were, repeatedly it seemed, throwing out of the casino; a group of friends gathered at the pub, one of them nervously looking about for someone.
So this was the nightlife.
"The theatre is over the bridge," he told her with a slight nod in its direction. "Shall we?"
"That's what we're here for."
He didn't take her hand. She walked by his side, looking around at the place, averting her eyes from the people.
He was looking at her, watching her enjoy being here. She could tell. Wouldn't look at him directly, catch him staring. He'd stop then, being the gentleman she knew he was. She wasn't sure about it, but, for now, she thought liked the feeling, liked being considered good enough to be looked at. Strange feeling. But a good one.
They'd reached the theater. Sat down in the second row. Waited, side-by-side.
Awkwardly.
"So... Do you know what the play is?"
"A reenactment of the Ancient Kharlan War or the Death of the Hero Mithos, perhaps."
Ah. He sounded like... "You've seen those before."
"There are many variations," he assured her. "There's always the possibility of another play. Or something done by Katz." Something in his voice told her the last option wasn't exactly one to look forward too. "Either way, it should begin-"
The stage lights began to flash on and off.
"...Right now."
It wasn't by Katz and, as far as she knew, it wasn't a reenactment. The basic plot seemed to be that a young and reluctant Chosen was being taken to an Abbey where he would be raised, but along the way was kidnapped by half-elves looking for a quick way to get rich. The Chosen escaped the half-elves (who were later killed, rather comically, when they tried to collect the ransom anyway) and went about enjoying himself. Even Alicia was quick to realize that, by the end of it, the Chosen would realize he was being irresponsible, possibly after falling in like, and return to his duty. Several people left at the point where it grew too obvious.
It was still a nice play, though. Lively music, witty dialogue, decent singers, convincing props...
Good company...
"Ahh!" "Woah!" "Ack!" "Look out, Chosen!"
Good company that apparently didn't mind that much when she was one of the people startled a little too much by the Gaoracchia Forest scene. It was scary. And even if the plot wasn't too good, the performers or stage people or whoever set the stage up knew what they were doing. There was a definite mood and it didn't help that she'd always been more than a bit frightened of that forest. Or even a copy of it, it seemed.
"Are you alright?" he asked her quietly, not making a big deal of how she'd momentarily cut off the circulation in his arm. Trying not to sound amused.
Failing miserably.
"...Fine." She thought she sounded small, but couldn't be sure, what with her heart pounding in her chest and ears like that. "Probably just tried."
"Shhh!"
Alicia shut her mouth, wondering if the person behind them would decide they were loud enough to kick. It gave off a different sort of suspense. The play progressed with deliberate slowness now, making the audience tense once more. After one more audience freak-out session, there was finally an intermission to allow a scene change.
"I'm... sorry about your sleeve."
"It's only wrinkled."
"...I'm sorry."
"I think that part of the play is meant to cause that reaction."
She laughed, mostly from relief. He didn't think she was a coward or something. "Probably."
"What do you think of the performance so far?" he asked after a brief pause as she studied the new props being brought onto stage.
O Martel.
"Alicia?"
"Wh-what? Sorry, I just thought I recognized something." On second glance, they were just paper flowers, just props. The stage lights were off. People mistook things when they were tired. Tired, not homesick.
"What is it?"
"I... Want to make a bet?" There was something in the air, perhaps from the casino not too far away. Of all the risks she was taking tonight, this had to be the safest. And yet...
There was something in the air.
Instead of bring up how she was underage for gambling, he only asked, "What over?"
"I bet the person who rescued the Chosen takes him to Ozette, not Sybak. Or Mizuho," she added. Such things might happen in plays and she had heard rumors of the city being near or in the forest.
"The stakes?"
"Who gets to choose what we make next. Any dish at all, no matter how obscure or bad-tasting the other person thinks it is."
He stared at the stage for a moment. "I accept."
They talked idly for a few minutes more. Intermission ended. The lights went on. The Chosen of Mana awoke in a small house built into the side of what was supposed to be an incredibly large, mossy tree with white flowers growing about its base.
Alicia felt him looking at her again. Glanced up.
He looked back, wordlessly asking.
She grinned and looked back to the play.
The performance went on, the Chosen maturing slightly as he recovered from his scare in the forest. The fact that he was alive was praised as a miracle and so the boy seemed to be brought somewhat closer to Martel due to his thankfulness. Eventually, the townsfolk told him where a boat that could take him to Meltokio would dock and he set off for it. And as he stood on the docks, waiting for the ship to come, the play ended.
"How did you know?" he asked quietly after, the pair walking back along the bridge.
"Do you remember the flowers they had growing everywhere for the Ozette scenes? They're called 'Presea' and only grow near Ozette. Those were only paper ones, but when I saw them..." She shrugged.
"I take it you're from Ozette."
She nodded, looked out over the bridge rail towards the entrance of the city, slowed her pace. Tried to stretch out the moments until they'd make their way back. Stopped. Leaned on the rail and stared at the stars, dim because of the lamps lining the bridge.
He stood next to her. "I'm going to be gone for the next few weeks."
She looked up at him. He was staring forward. Looking at stars? Marveling at the city? Avoiding her gaze?
"'Few'?"
"Three. And two days."
"When are you leaving?"
"Tomorrow."
Huh.
So many things to ask. Where was he going? What was he doing there? Who was he going with? Why was he only telling her now? Why was he telling, period? Was he going to miss her? Had the night been some big good-bye or a date or both?
What was his name?
"Gives me a lot of time to pick out that recipe."
That... was probably not a good thing to say.
"Have fun. And apron me when you get back." Slightly better.
"I will."
"I look forward to it."
Under the night sky, the pair stood in companionable silence for a moment. For one, long, perfect moment.
"The tide will be getting higher by now."
"So... we should head back."
"Indeed."
Beside and slightly behind him, she walked back, boarded the elemental railway. Felt numb, detached from the world and strangely connected at the same time. She mattered enough to say good-bye to. That was something. Not entirely happy, but... it was something.
They got off at the Altamira Entrance stop. Waited for the next car to depart, for there to be no one around. He jumped down onto the wide rail. Turned around, offered her his hand for support.
She took it and jumped down beside him, nervous and tense. Almost let go after. Didn't want to. Didn't let go.
As he led the way back, he didn't seem to mind. Heavy footsteps, regular, rhythmic, in front of her. A large hand holding her own.
Alicia knew it was childish, holding on like this. She felt like a child, compared to him.
He was going to be gone for twenty-three days. Twenty-three. Practically a month. She wasn't going to get to see him for that long. Every-other night was one thing, but twenty-three... It nearly felt like when she left Ozette to come work here. But she was just being silly again. The Rearranger wasn't family and it wasn't like she wouldn't see him for over four years.
But twenty-three days. That was twelve or eleven times she'd miss seeing him. It was slightly better that way. Slightly. And she would see him again, later.
As for now... there were heavy footsteps, regular, rhythmic, in front of her, and there was a large hand holding her own.