And I'm back again. B) No, this isn't dead, I'm just terrible with organisation (and I have mock exams right now so I've been busy studying). I hope you enjoy, as usual! Once I'm less busy I'll definitely be working on this more so it's finally finished. And then I'll be able to start my next fic idea for our favourite climbers ;)
(Ahh, I really need to work on my tension and dialogue writing. ;w;)
"Ahhh, I can't wait," the boy mused, stretching.
The girl laughed, rolling her eyes a little. "It's only a few more days. Be patient," she said.
"It's hard to be patient for your birthday, though," he replied.
"Good days take such a long time to arrive, and then before you know it, they've gone by."
It'd be cool to see the sun again. Sometimes winter feels like it lasts too long.
Yes, contrary to popular belief, we actually do get summer in this bleak corner of the world, where almost the whole year round snow is all you'll ever be greeted by. Momentarily, for a month or two, the snow melts away and we sneak a glance at the greenery beneath the white blanket. It's a nice change in scenery.
I had hoped to awaken to one of these warm mornings today, but we don't usually get what we want in life, do we? (...At least, I don't.)
As my eyes open, the sting of the cold pierces my sleepy gaze. Nothing has changed. The mountain is still tall. The ice coating it still shimmers. The snow sprinkled upon it is still white. The sky is still clouded grey. And we are still far from the peak.
I've learned that sometimes staying the same is better – for you, for other people, for the world. When you've gotten comfortable in your place, and you find it's a comfortable enough position for the people around you, all then seems well with the world, right? In the time you've settled, people and the world have grown accustomed to the "you" that you've displayed. The people that do like that self you put on display could never imagine how vastly different you could possibly be if you tried hard enough. The truth is, not many people welcome change. Change means that things become different; that the identities they once possessed in the past vanish, reforming into new faces and beings.
Present becomes past. History. A ghostly memory. And sometimes, it's better that way.
But as humans, we develop this sweet, irritating thing called attachment. You feel quite lost once you realise how every second you're a new person to the one just a moment ago, even if you don't normally realise it. Pieces of you are being left behind all the time, and they won't return. Sometimes pieces of people you love are left behind too, and it feels like they died. Perhaps they did, in some way or another, in the blink of an eye. Then it all comes crashing on you and the grief begins.
Yawning loudly, I turn my attention to the sleepyhead beside me, still peacefully engrossed in whatever dream he might be having. It's a relief to be able to wake up in his presence, ten times better than falling asleep in it. The night is scary, and even with the mutual protection we offer one another, we're both aware there's always danger just around the corner. In fact, this only occurred to us a few nights ago, so we've started taking turns to lookout in the night. (It's a miracle we got through our past climbs without it.) Yet the fear I may wake up alone one day haunts me endlessly.
Solitude sucks. That I can testify, having spent my early years before meeting Popo pretty much alone. Kind of difficult to approach people when they try to get away from you if you so much as breathe in their direction. Since then, it's felt like pieces of myself have been slowly and surely chipping away. Eventually, I might be reduced to nothing inside.
When I remember that day, as clear as crystals, I'm reminded only of my losses. The day that led us to lie upon this mountain. The day I lost what remnants of my flesh and blood I had left. The day all I had left of my past before any of the present came to be was snatched away.
I became scared I would lose the newfound happinesses I've come to find in the present; the many joys and wonders I've discovered since I took his hand. For the past few years, I've done everything I can to treasure them as much as I can, to hold on, to never let go.
But no matter how hard I may try, some of those joys feel as if they're slipping through my fingers. I hate it. It makes me angry.
I haven't told Popo, of course. He'd make such a big fuss out of my musings (though I do like the attention). Or he'd blame himself for neglecting our friendship, as he might put it, and causing me to feel this way. But that's not it. I'd just get more angry at him if he did that.
He makes me angry enough showering me with worry and care the way he already does, joining in with my stupid sense of humour just because it makes me laugh even if he doesn't find the same things funny, giving the best hugs and head pats when I'm sulking over the pettiest issues, or even just blessing me with that calm, reserved smile of his if he so much as looks in my direction – this unconditional love I'm barely used to having or...feeling.
And here we have an example of my point being made! Nana Tsubaki, a stubborn, selfish girl unaccustomed to change, albeit a change any young lady should welcome, as any grown woman in the village would say. That's right, folks: this klutzy excuse of a lady is now at war with her precious emotions!
If anything, I'm more angry at myself than him for making me feel this way. My heart is wandering past lines that shouldn't be crossed between us, lines that are meant to stay carved into the snow for as long as we remain together. But despite it all, I can't stop the snow from covering it up. Covering it up and opening that pathway for my heart.
"You're up early."
My head whips around to face Popo, briefly jolted by his sudden awakening.
"I'm not quite sure if you're awake yet, though," he chuckles.
Nnnnnghh. I can feel the red painting my cheeks. "Hmm? And what makes you think that, smart guy?"
"Well, you just seemed lost in thought." Popo straightens himself up, shifting slightly closer to me. I want to scream.
I settle for a roll of the eyes instead. "Yeah, I was wondering when you'd actually wake up. You've been keeping me waiting for long enough."
For a moment, I almost feel like puking, hearing that slip out of my mouth. When did I become so mean? Why did I even-
Still, he doesn't seem to take much notice, only sighing in defeat. "You're right. We need to get going." He moves away to fetch his backpack and mallet in the corner of the cave while I do the same, keeping my gaze away.
Instead, I turn to face the cave's opening, finding myself face to face with the blinding whiteness of misty snow and clouds once again. Here, the air is thinner, sometimes suffocating, but with the amount of time we've spent atop peaks, it's almost normal. Being quite literally on the edge of death wherever we are? Just another daily chore.
Yes, we'd finally set an order for things, and then this had to happen. I just had to let myself get carried away. I feel even more pathetic and stupefied at myself for only cracking the ice now. For shattering the iceberg that's been so cold and freezing, so stubbornly keeping my emotions intact and safe. Now the iceberg's melting away and flooding my head uncontrollably, and if I'm not careful, everything we've built together is going to wash away with it.
It took Popo almost being killed for me to realise my true feelings. Honestly, how stupid is that?
"Hellooooo? Are you ready?"
Snapping back to reality, I return my attention to my partner. My best friend. He raises an eyebrow suspiciously, a concerned frown fixed upon me. It's too late now – he's caught on to the rope.
I nod dismissively. "Yeah, sorry. Let's get this over with," I reply, mustering the best grin I can in return.
I'm ready for anything, Popo. I'd be ready to climb higher with you if you asked.
The amount of progress we've made up Icicle Mountain is somewhat relieving. It's no longer the dissatisfying "about a quarter" remark we'd stuck to for the past few nights, but instead, that trebled. That is, we can actually see the summit of this wretched glacier from where we are now.
Our mallets have remained dormant in more recent times. The Topi and even Nitpicker populations this high up are incredibly scarce, so few of them inhabiting the higher altitudes that any we do see are far too busy trying to survive to bother hindering our journey. It's definitely put a little ease on our climb in that sense.
Dig, pull, and climb. Dig, pull, and climb. That's the pattern I've been circling around my head while we've been climbing; a feeble attempt at calming the waters raging inside me, but a much-needed one nonetheless. I just have to dig my axe in, pull myself up and continue the climb. I don't really have a choice at this point. If I truly want to preserve my dear treasure, my everything, I have to follow that simple, unchangeable rhythm. Dig, pull and climb.
I know for a fact Popo won't let that happen, though. His presence itself is enough to shiver the rhythm in my heart, no matter how much I distract it.
Dig, pull and climb.
Climbing with him should make me feel a bit better - safer, even. Human company generally makes other humans feel safe. It's difficult to forget how high you've come when climbing is your profession, though. Especially when you're not even properly trained climbers.
Maybe in hindsight, this feeling that my heart's going to burst out of my chest has plagued me for longer than I think, lurking in the shadows and waiting for the right time to spring itself and the painful realisation onto me. Clearly we have a different idea of what the right timing actually is.
Dig, pull and climb.
It's true I've never quite felt the way I do right now about anyone else. The cosy warmth and fuzziness inside, the happiness I share when he so enthusiastically goes on tangents about the stars in the sky he adores, the honour and pride that pleases me so knowing I'm special to him the way he is to me - for not one second do I doubt his reciprocity in that way. A world without my best friend is like the sun without the moon in the sky.
Dig, pull and climb.
But this is dangerous territory. It's a gamble where I could win it all or lose it all. And it wouldn't just be him either; the scowls I'd endure from my peers, unafraid to express their jealousy, are already one thing I deal with as we are. No, it'd be the opposite if things go down that road. Jeering and mockery. Those are the words I was looking for. No matter what happens, people are going to be more than happy to judge.
Dig, pull and climb.
Why should I care, though? Their feelings towards me won't ever change my feelings towards him. They can sabotage me all they like, but they won't take my chances away from me. You'd have to have your head screwed a bit too loosely to disagree that I have a little more opportunity than any other lass in the village. I'm his best friend, for Mogola's sake! If he wanted anyone, then...
Well, I struggle to entertain that thought. Just because two people are good friends doesn't mean they'd make a good couple, dearie. Ms. Fuyu's voice echoes. (Ironic that came from her, considering her teasing...)
Dig, pull and climb.
There's no doubt that he'll be interrogating me later, though. He can see right through my ice. It's probably clear by now which one of us is the better liar.
Dig, pull and-
"Wh- augh!"
Blue. A rain of blue falls away, just past my gaze, the flakes of shattered ice tumbling down after his collapse, raining down as a sweet reminder of his demise-
"Popo!"
The tension of the rope around my waist sharply tugs at my body, ready to pull me at any second.
I look down.
Below me, Popo struggles to swing himself back onto the ice wall, reaching for the ice with his ice axe. Helplessly flailing about, it's...an undeniably entertaining scene. Just this once, I can't stifle my laughter. A smirk creeps onto my lips.
Laughing, I start to pull at the connecting rope with my free hand. "What the hell are you doing down there?"
He glares back up at me. "I almost died and you're laughing?"
"I know, I'm sorry. But just-" - I take a moment to calm myself down, doing my best to quieten my giggles - "-you really need to work on your remounting technique."
It's his turn to roll his eyes at me, though the faintest of smiles is hiding under that irritated visage of his. "Is yours any better?"
"Well, in theory, since I'm the support climber, I should have more experience with that, right?"
He's stabilised himself now, back onto the ice and secure enough to make his way back up without my support. In a matter of seconds, he's climbed right up to where I am, and we exchange knowing glances. We need to keep moving.
"It's thanks to you I'm right here, though. So, yes, you are more experienced."
I shake my head disapprovingly. "Well, yeah, if I wasn't here, you wouldn't have any attachment, dummy. At least you're grateful." I pause, mulling over what I should say next. "But it could have been anyone else," I shrug.
If he had any hands free, he'd probably pat my head right now. A teasing proclamation of the few centimetres he has on me. But he looks up to the mist shadowing us, high up with the clouds, the faintest of smiles crossing his face.
"It could have. But it was you, and that's why I'm grateful."
This is exactly what I'd miss if we really did lose everything, if I compromised our stupid banter, our united laughter and joy, for my selfish desires. For the love I've dreamed of having, wondering what it might feel like, wondering when it would arrive at my doorstep to happily greet me. For the depth of something more, for want of closure, to inch just a little closer to him, and fill the small remaining distance between us. For want of what I might never have.
But it's okay. No matter how far apart we are, I'm sure of our bond, whatever it might be. And that's enough.