The next day, Van woke up in a cheerful mood, glad at having so many things resolved, and looking forward to meeting Varie. Rushing through the morning rituals and breakfast, he absently bid his mother goodbye and raced his bike to Varie's house.
Still whistling, he tossed his bicycle against the gate, as usual, and knocked a rhythmic beat on the door, nodding in sync with the tune. Hearing Varie call out, he breezed in, shifting a little box from one hand to the other.
"Good morning!" he greeted cheerfully.
"Is it?" Varie asked from behind a pile of books she was busy rearranging.
"Sure it is! Haven't you looked? Maybe we could go for a walk later, it's a beautiful day," Van continued, hopping from one foot to the other as he tried to dance along to the tune that had been incessantly playing in his head ever since he woke up.
"I don't think that's likely," Varie answered unenthusiastically.
"Wha…?" He stopped moving and noticed, for the first time since he came in, how tired she looked, "Are you sick?"
Varie stopped shuffling books around and looked at him as she crouched on the floor, there was something inscrutable about her expression, it seemed like a culmination of anger, sadness, and bitterness.
"Varie…what's wrong?" Van kneeled down next to her on the floor.
"It's nothing. Forgive me, I didn't mean to snap."
Van considered her uncertainly. Her eyes, they looked so…blank, devoid of the emotion that usually lit them up.
"Are you-"
"Yes Van, I'm fine. Don't worry about me. Tell me about you. I trust things went well with your brother?" she changed the subject.
Giving in, for now, Van went along with her, "Oh yeah, it helped a lot talking to you yesterday, Folken and I talked almost all night, just like old times. There was so much to catch up on…I slept better than I think I did in a long time. It feels good, you know? I thought it was too late to make amends, but I guess I was wrong…"
Varie smiled, the sentiment not quite reaching her eyes.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ramble. So what did you do yesterday? Did you read anything new?" Van asked lightly.
"Not really, I was tired, so I rested for the most part," was her dull response.
"Yeah? I hope you feel better now, come to think of it, you don't really look so good today," Van said, eyes narrowed in concern.
"Have I ever?"
"Was that supposed to be rhetorical?"
"I'm in no mood for word-play now Van. I'm not in the best of spirits today, you'll have to excuse me," she answered blithely.
Taken aback, Van opened and closed his mouth, before hastily plowing on in an attempt to lighten her mood, "Oh and by the way, remember I told you yesterday that I'd get you a surprise? Well here it is," Van handed Varie the box with both hands, barely containing the nervous excitement.
"You really shouldn't have…" she trailed off, accepting the gift anyway.
She tore open the box and scooped out the paper confetti, revealing a small, framed painting.
Varie gasped in surprise and gently extricated it from the box, holding the tiny painting in her palms. It depicted the half sun, hovering on the horizon over a rippling ocean that mirrored the magnificence of the radiant sky.
Van held his breath and waited for a reaction, that didn't seem to be coming. Nervously, he went on, "I've been painting it for a while, I know it's not that great, but it's one of my best so far, that's not saying much but I thought you might like it and that it would cheer you up and…"
Varie sat still, her face shrouded by her straight, long hair. After what seemed like an eternity, she asked hoarsely, "This painting…is it the sunset?"
"Um, I know, that can be confusing, but I prefer to think of it as the sunrise," his eyes darted nervously from the painting to Varie and back to the painting.
"Why?" she demanded, almost harshly.
Surprised at her tone, Van gaped at her, wondering about the outburst, and very unnerved by her reaction to his gift.
Taking a deep breath, Varie said, more gently this time, "Tell me Van, why is it the sunrise?"
"B-Because it's like a new beginning…uh, well, I know, it's silly, but I like to think of it as a symbol of hope, of fresh starts," slightly more confident by her encouraging nod, Van continued, "I preferred it to the sunset because I guess I feel like when it happens, well, darkness descends, and even though the same limitless possibilities that existed in the morning still do, it doesn't seem like someone would have as much faith anymore…like it was a lost cause maybe, because time's running out…"
Varie turned her gaze back to the painting, maintaining what seemed to Van, a thick foreboding silence.
"I know it's a foolishly romantic view to take, but…I thought that…" Van couldn't go on. A heavy feeling of dejection settling in his heart. He meant to surprise her, but in an attempt to make her smile, not make her more upset. He slumped to the floor, unsure of what to do next, feeling too guilty to leave and too awkward to say anything.
"It's all just an illusion though isn't it?" Varie whispered, so low, he had to strain his ears to catch what she said.
Van looked at her expectantly, hoping she'd go on because he couldn't ask her to, his voice seemed to have deserted him.
"All this, the idea that darkness smothers all hope. The sun can be cruel, so harsh…it's brutally honest, because one's flaws seem so apparent during the day, when otherwise they would be muted by night. A sunrise is a reminder of another new day, another day after having failed, time after time, another day of watching all your dreams shatter, just as always…what's the point of hope when there is never any indication in favour if it? What's the point of telling oneself that things will get better when the truth mocks you, telling you in clear terms that it is futile, it changes nothing…why hope when all it does is take you high only to drag you deeper and deeper every time it's proved useless? Why-" her voice broke. Her fingers were white as they dug into the frame of the painting. Her head was bowed, hair covering her face and falling gracefully over her plain white dress.
"Varie…" Van whispered shakily. He was at a complete loss, the dread he felt earlier turning into complete shock and dismay. He had never seen her so desolate, she was always so full of life. He knelt there and dumbly stared at her, not knowing what to do. He slowly reached his hand out towards her.
"You should go Van," she said softly.
His hand jerked back in midair, "But-"
"Please…" she murmured, her voice fragile.
Van drew his hand back and rested it on his thigh. Hanging his head in defeat, he got up slowly, and looked at her crouched form, finding it a little hard to see behind the film of moisture gathering on his eyes.
"I'm…sorry," he whispered, and padded across the room. In a daze, he put his shoes on and hesitated as he was about to close the door when he heard a strangled sob. His brown eyes swimming with remorse, he turned away and wheeled his bicycle out.
He stopped again when he reached the gate, eyes blurring on the lovely green creepers that twined around the bars, "I'm so sorry…"
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A/N: I think I might end this in the next two or three chapters, not that I think there are too many people reading this, it is sort of an offbeat story. But for those of you who liked it or didn't but still have something to say, reviews would be nice. This is one of my personal favourites, and I'd like to know how I'm holding up in it...