DISCLAIMER: HxH belongs to Togashi and not me.
Chapter One
~Hidden Secrets, Hidden Mysteries~
A wolf's heart. It is of strong willpower. It is of courage. It is of determination. It is of strength. It is the core for emotions. It is of equal morality. It can decide on proper choices. It is of wisdom. It is equal justice.
Every person is born with a wolf's heart. It is like the inborn innocence. Both pure and of full heart. It is us who tatters and breaks our wolf's heart. The conscience it brings fades away. But rarely do people actually notice.
Wolf guardians have realized the ebbing belief in the people. They have lost their connection to their brothers. They have lost their ancient powers to modernity. The old world's guardians have forgotten their vows.
They will make sure the humans will not forget. They will remind the humans of cold Siberian nights. Of burning Mongolian summers. The bond, and the togetherness. Of Romulus, Remus, and the she-wolf.
They would take children to be the new-world's wolf guardians. The wolf spirit will enter their souls, pure wolf blood mingling with their own. They will be the bridge of the humans and the wolves. They will be the bridge of the old and of the new.
And they will choose a human purest of wolf-heart—and together they will put the age-old balance back to normal. They will forge a new bond. They will learn to be together. They will be connected by soul once more. And the two will be comrades.
The time will come when it will. They will have to be patient souls. Raised in the ancient ways. The moon will shine when their time has come to be bound once more. Their far-flung fates will cross again. Peace will return to the world, and to humankind.
And the wolves will rise again.
"Go tend to our sheep, Kurapika," a voice called from inside the hut.
"Yes, father," the boy of twelve answered, standing up from his sitting position outside on the mellow grass. He took his father's shepherding cane, and tapped on the grass as he stared out, deciding where to take the sheep today. I will take them to the west side of the mountain, he thought, and called to his shepherd-dog, Vassilus, or Vas.
His shepherd dog was actually more leaning to the ferocious behavior, but nothing really worries the young boy. It was a very, very nice cross breed, with beautiful, thick fur and shining eyes of gold. He was also a big breed, around half of Kurapika's height standing up. Also, never forget the shepherding talent they all possess.
But the magic in it… was Vas was a husky-wolf cross breed.
Oh, Kurapika doesn't know how that happened either. All he knew that first, his family had this husky bitch, a very beautiful one with white fur, that they found littering around the road. Two months later, she had a bellyful of pups. And after the waiting period, she peered out of the den and five bouncing baby pups came after her. They had blue eyes and ashen colored fur, but brighter, more livelier. Kurapika thinks he knows, but he couldn't be sure either. It might have started one night…
Kurapika opened the gate for their sheep, and whistled to his dog to start the lead. It barked joyfully before finally guiding the sheep toward the Western Ounaboura mountain range.
…one night, when Kurapika was outside making the final head count of the sheep after bringing them back to their pen. He heard yelps coming from the forest. He lit a second torch and stretched his hand to light the dark, see what was coming. From the dim recesses, very near the bushes that marked the edge of their field, two dark spots of light reflected the soft, elegant dance of the flames.
It was a pair of eyes, shadowy and taunting, with anger, anticipation, determination. It was putting a ghostly spell on Kurapika. But no, Kurapika did not give in. Instead he locked the pen and took a wary step forward. The wolf held his ground, teeth still bared, fangs red with the sheep's blood. Kurapika took one more step, but the wolf still stoof on the same spot. The air was thick with tension, and Kurapika felt his blood race. His heart beat angrily on his chest. The wolf, meanwhile, just stood there, fur bristling with glistening anger. Blood dripped from his fangs, tainting the grass. Kurapika and the wolf stared at each other eye-to-eye, and Kurapika felt his courage falter. Blue met gold, and quietly, intensively, they stared at each other. The tension created by this was so thick you couldn't cut it with an axe. Kurapika's breathing was labored, filled with panic and desperately calling quietly, 'HELP!'
Suddenly, a blur of grey came toward the wolf, toppling it over. The wolf rolled around with the object for a few feet. Kurapika strained his eyes to see. They widened in shock when he realized it was his family husky, Ulaan. She's eye-catching with white fur and a long black line of fur running across her spine. What's more is that she had been trained with the shepherding business, and she's doing a pretty good job at it. She's also pretty calm when dealing with these wolves that roam around the area, which is actually their free territory. But she knew better than to attack unprovoked.
Kurapika stared speechlessly as Ulaan and the wolf stared at each other. Ulaan stared deep into the wolf's eyes. She was on top of him, intimidating him. The wolf lay on the grass on his back. Kurapika imagined him whimpering in fright – Ulaan had wonderfully sharp fangs of her own.
The wolf crawled out underneath Ulaan's belly, but Ulaan did not leave him unscathed. She took her paw up and scratched the wolf's face, causing a great wound across from his forehead to his muzzle, down his chin. The wolf did not seem to mind, and even though blood oozed from the wound, he stood mightily up, towering over Ulaan who was two inches short to him. They inched nearer to each other, and Kurapika thought they would engage in another serious fight. Instead, they raised noses and howled, a mind-numbing sound in the cold night. It was eerie, echoed by the mountains that covered the valley. When the song ended, the two touched the tips of their nuzzles, and the wolf left, not even taking a bite on the sheep he took down.
Kurapika only then realized he had been holding his breath. He released it in a long puff, and he heard Ulaan whimper to him. He neared the dog and patted it on the head. "Oh, it's dead anyway, Ulaan," he said. "We might as well bring it to father, he may as well offer it up." He took the bloody sheep and dragged it home.
When Kurapika entered the house with the sheep, his father looked at him with wide eyes.
"Kurapika! What is that, my son? Is that one of ours? What has happened?" he asked quickly, not even bothering to give his son time to answer each question separately.
Kurapika laid the sheep on the butchering table in the kitchen. "Father, there was this big wolf that came by the forest," he started to explain. "He had taken this sheep, but left without it, mysteriously. He just had a short but not ferocious confrontation with Ulaan," he said, rubbing the dog's back. "I do not know either, father, but they left peacefully with no war or such."
"Ahh, may the gods be blessed," his father said, fingers caressing Ulaan's nuzzle. Ulaan licked his hand. "Be thankful for your safety, for God's hand has fallen onto her. Aah, she will get pups soon, I believe."
"What makes you think so, father?" Kurapika thought, and laid comfortably on the chair, knowing his father will give in to his story askings. He was getting ready for a long story.
"Oh, no, there is no story," the father said, and Kurapika pouted. "Just a belief that one of these days dog and wolf will reconnect, and so will man."
"A belief, huh?" Kurapika thought. "Might as well. Maybe man will be me, Ulaan be the dog, that wolf be the wolf so told," he said, grinning. "I will just take hot soup for dinner, father, and I shall retire."
"Your mother has cooked a delicious mouthful in the pot," the older man said. "Do as you wish. I shall retire now." Footsteps, and a quiet thud of a door.
Kurapika took his favorite bowl made of a coconut shell rubbed off its skin. He dipped it into the pot, taking some soup. He closed the pan with its cover, and went outside to watch the stars.
The night was chilly, but since Ulaan kept him company, the cold was lessened, if a bit. He sipped on his soup, the heat tingling in his mouth, and stared as the sky remained cold and soulless. Ulaan nudged on his hand, asking for permission. Kurapika patted the dog, and Ulaan went inside the house to sleep.
Kurapika stared at the sky. He had lots to think about tonight, in his vigil. Especially that scarred wolf. And Ulaan. And mysteries. Reconnecting with nature. It bothered him, how there was so much he didn't and couldn't understand yet. He wanted to learn, he wanted to know. So every night, after dinner, he'd creep out of the house to stare and think about everything in the world.
But that night the wolf bothered him… the wolf's strength, courage, and willpower. Is it possible for man to be like that, too? Strong? Courageous? Powerful? It would be to live back to the old days, his grandfather used to say, whenever he said wolf stories.
"'Man used to be like wolf, and side-by-side they fought enemies and caught prey,'" he said solemnly, reciting the story his grandfather told him, the story he knew by heart. "'Together man and beast feasted, together man and beast lived. Everything was peaceful, and there were no wars, no fights. Wolves did not take on livestock, and man did not kill the wolf cubs for the fresh pelts. No, there were no wars, everything was tranquil back then.'"
He sighed, wondering how beautiful a world that would've been. "'Yes, the tranquility was addicting. Wolf cubs played with human children, teaching them at a fresh young age to hunt and to play, to run and to catch, how to live the way nature tells them to. No, but today the human children are plagued with modernity, they have forgotten to live peacefully, how it is to live back in paradise. We are in paradise, we just don't believe in it, thus paradise has lost its shine.'"
Paradise. "'Yes, earth is a paradise shared by man and beast,'" he continued. "'And they will forever share for all time. But no, no, man had become to greedy. They decided to rule over the place, instead of just being a helpful brother that continues to preserve The Ways. The Ways of nature, the ways of paradise. No, no, the ink of modernity spills over the old parchment dedicated to the wolves, the beavers, the eagles. Modernity tells about man, and man alone. No more beavers, no more eagles. No more life. No more mountains, no more valleys. No more nothing. No more wolves. No more warriors. No more guardians.'"
"'No more light, no more day,'" he continued, voice sounding reverend. "'No more earth. Man, and man alone. No more neighbors. Man, alone. Man, lonely. All because of modernity.'" He remembered how his grandfather would look so sullen whenever he said that.
"'No more spirits, no more guardians. No more wolves."
"Oi, Naranbataar, it seems like your son had fallen asleep again here, no?"
"Aah, he must've been out again, thinking about the world. Ahh, my son is the thinking type. He is not fit to be in here. He's an intellectual, we must send him to the cities."
To… the cities… Kurapika's eyes popped open, realizing what his father, Naranbataar, and his mother, Narantuyaa, were talking about. His eyes were screaming, 'Not to the city, Not to the city!'
His senses returned, and he was back to the present. He shoved his entire body up from the grass, dusting himself off.
"Aah, the sun has risen to the young boy," Naranbataar said. "Come up, son. The sheep has to be tended to." A piece of bread was handed to him.
"Yes, father," Kurapika said, taking the bread and nibbling on it quickly. He whistled to Vas, almost choking on the bread the stuck on his throat. Vas rubbed his nose to his master's thigh. (Vas, the dog, was that freaking tall.)
"Vas, go, go, go!" He said, pointing at the sheep pen gate. Vas jumped in the air, doing a perfect somersault, and with happy barks ran toward the gate. He had previously learned how to open the gate by pulling on the lock with his teeth, and the sheep poured out. Vas did his job perfectly well, and he lead the sheep to the usual grazing place. Shepherding will always be easy with Vas around, Kurapika thought, walking toward Vas to give him a loving pat on the head.
He was in the grazing field again, a quiet, vast land of green below a sky of blue. The colors always made him so lazy, so caught off guard. He usually ends up spending his entire day dawdling around, mind wandering the world's darkest corners.
That day, his mind lolled about what he would do in the future. Ahh, I will hunt in the forest good game, he said. I will become rich and famous and popular. He thought of the traps he would make. His horses. Agility and stealth. And the pelts hanging around his cement house's walls, markings of glory. He was slipping into quiet sleep, disappearing, slowly… darkness… creeping up…
"Kurapika-san."
He was awokened from his half daydream slumber by a soft voice. "Ahh, Sarantsartsral-hime-chan."
"Father calls you to the castle," the girl said. She had black locks tied up in two long braids that was kept in a bun in her head. It was designed with a chrysanthemum flower atop, and a veil that ran down to her waist. Her robes were of oriental origin, of red and gold. But of course, no matter how utterly weird it looked with her attire, she always wore her wolf pelt jacket. It was a gift from one of those boys in the area.
"Emperor Yujii?" Kurapika asked, a little dazed. "What does he ask of, Hime-chan?"
"He asks of you," Sarantsartsral said. "He has said nothing more. Let us go, Kurapika?" Her voice sounded like she was talking to an old friend, not to some random person her father asked her to bring back to the palace.
Kurapika was a little confused. What would the emperor want from him? Reluctantly he stood up, almost willing to go. Suddenly, he remembered his flock. He turned to say to Sarantsartsral, "But hime-chan, my flock—"
"We have sent our royal herdsmen to take care of that," Sarantsartsral said. "You must go to my father, and now." She handed a leash, pointing at Vas.
"Yes, Hime-chan…" He whistled to Vas, who came bounding up to follow him. He patted the dog and tied the leash that the princess gave him around its neck. Vas was reluctant, but in
the end gave in.
Vas curled up on the floor between them in the carriage, and the horses up front seemed to be going on a slower pace than usual. An awkward silence hung between the two.
Kurapika decided to initiate conversation, knowing the trip would take at least half an hour. "Hime-chan…"
"Please, call me Saran. Sarantsartsral would be too long now, wouldn't it?" Saran smiled.
"Ahh, yes, Hi– Saran." Kurapika looked at Vas. "Saran, do you have a clue on why… your
father…"
"No, I have no clue either," Saran said. "Neither do I have any idea why he sent me and none of his royal messengers."
Now Kurapika was intrigued. "You mean, he sent you, and you went not on your own free will?"
"Yes," Saran said. "He said it would 'help the nation.' I highly doubt disturbing a daydreaming shepherd would help the nation.' She grinned sheepishly.
"Ahh," Kurapika said, lowering his head even more to hide the creeping heat on his pale face.
"I guess not."
"Ha, no need to be shy, Kurapika," Saran said. "There is nothing to worry of." She looked down to Vas. "Is he your shepherd dog?"
"Vassilus, or Vas," Kurapika said, and immediately Vas' ears perked up with the sound of his name. "Yes, he is my shepherd dog."
"My, my," Saran said, smoothing Vas' silver coat. Vas flinched nervously at the sudden touch, but Kurapika held his head to prevent any 'accidents.' "What a wonderful breed you have here, Kurapika. Is he husky?"
Kurapika smiled. The question always comes up like that, and he always watched the funny reactions. "Well, if my assumptions arSarane correct, he would be half husky." He paused for a few to add effect. "Half husky, half wolf. Perfect breed."
Saran could only gawk unceremoniously. But quickly she retrieved her composure that lay scattered like broken glass in the floor. She just smiled and said, "My. How was that of, may I ask?"
"I do not know myself," Kurapika said. "It's a guess. We have a bitch named Ulaan and she's… close to an alpha male, if I guess right."
"So this Vas of yours…" Saran said, tracing the lines in the wolf heirarchy, "Can become alpha male?"
Kurapika shook his head. "Highly doubt that. Wolves pick one of their kind, not half-breeds."
This time, it was Saran's turn to smile. "The wolves have changed, you know?"
"Father."
"Princess… ahh, you have brought him. Welcome."
"You have called for me, Emperor?" Kurapika said, the words forced out of his mouth.
"Ahh, such a fine young man." The emperor signaled the doors be opened. "Sarantsartsral, you are now dismissed. I shall call on you soon."
"If that's what my father wishes," Saran said, and stepped out of the giant hall.
When the doors were closed, the emperor finally started talking. "Kurapika."
"Emperor."
"Straightforward young man, hmm. Your parents came to me a few days ago…"
"Emperor, sorry to be so straightfowardly rude, but if it is about me being sent to the city, I would like to decline."
The emperor looked at him with curious eyes. "May I ask why you decline, lad? Some other
children would kill for such an opportunity."
Kurapika thought. Yes, some children would really kill for the opportunity, because rarely do the parents actually allow the children to school. Each family's only manpower would be the members. Only the rich ones have helpers, their own private shepherds. It would be extra work – and payments to pay – if they send the children to school. Besides, schooling is not available around those parts because it was in the far outskirts. The city is on the other edge of the country. He sighed. "Well, sire, excuse me of the rudeness once more, but I do not wish schooling…" he started. "I have no proper excuse for this matter. I have just more important matters at hand…" he said. "Maybe my family comes before me."
The emperor smiled grandly. "Aah, a very talented young lad, with consciences greater than any else. Very worthy."
Kurapika cocked his head to a side, confused. "What… do you mean, emperor?"
The emperor suddenly had to smother a laugh, which made Kurapika even more confused. Irritation clouded his visage, but he wouldn't show it to the emperor so down-right forward.
"Emperor?"
"Oh, forgive me," the emperor said, chuckling on the remaining bits of his laughter."I just thought you looked so adorably cute with your head on the side. Almost like a doll. You know, you resemble Sarantsartsral so good."
Kurapika swallowed his complaints, and just replied with a nod. But inside, he was close to shuddering. He felt it rising from his spine. Wouldn't it be nerving if you heard the emperor of your nation, saying how feminine-looking you would be? He was irritated, he's had enough of that his life. But it was the emperor, what could he do. But he felt… abused, in a way. "Back to the topic, emperor..." he said, feeling stiff. "What did you mean about being worthy? Me?"
The emperor looked at him, finally, with a serious, straight face. "We will send a tutor to your home to … engage you in studies at least once a week. It's for free… and sponsored by me, and Sarantsarsral."
"Tutor?" Kurapika looked honestly shocked. "Sir, you must not understand …"
"No, no, it is fairly right," the emperor said. "We will send you back on carriage… with
Sarantsartsral."
Kurapika's mouth gaped open to complain, but then he snapped them shut. Emperor, he made a mental note to himself. Must not deny. "Yes."
He walked out the giant doors to see Sarantsartsral leaning by it, listening quietly.
In the trip back to his home, Saran was edging uncomfortably in the seat across of him. Father's order, she said, when she rode in the carriage with him. Kurapika was humming a lullaby his mother taught him, though badly out of tune. Vas was whimpering, apparently he was hungry. Kurapika took candies from his pocket, and unwrapped one to put in Vas' mouth. He unwrapped another to put in his mouth. Then, looking up at Saran, he handed the last candy. She smiled and shook her head. But she was still looking uncomfortable.
Kurapika hummed noncommittally once more and put the candy and the empty wrappers back into his pocket. He waited, hoping that Saran was going to say something else, initiate new conversation.
Finally, after awkward silence, Kurapika spoke again just as he was giving the ball of candy a roll in his tongue. He said quietly, "I don't know what has gotten into Emperor Yujii this time."
He looked at Vas and smoothed the fur on his back. "Apparently something had his mind… upturned."
"Apparently," Saran said. "He might as well be still into his mourning stage. Trying to get over the loss."
Kurapika stared wide-eyed at Saran. He couldn't believe how she could actually talk about it that… bluntly. She was talking about her own mother, who had died a month ago with scarlet fever. It was too abrupt, people didn't notice until it was the end. The king just said, "Marra has died," closed the royal curtains, and fasted for seven whole days (as was the custom).
Yet here she was, his royal daughter, talking about the death of her mother without any thought.
Saran noticed the sudden thoughtful look in Kurapika's face, and started to explain to him. "We were never close," she said, tucking a lost lock of her hair behind her ear. "We never were. It was father who pressed us together. But when he cracked up, realized the problem under a slurry moonlit night, mother was the one to suffer. I didn't mind. That's when she refused eating, and when she did, got sick of it. That's what the butlers say, anyway."
"'Cracked up?'" Kurapika asked, confused. "May you clarify on that, if it isn't too personal for the princess?"
"Not at all," Saran said. "Well, father was off drinking royal wine with one of his fellows – I believe it was his brother's cousin's cousin – when that guy said, 'You, Yujii, are a loyal puppy. Aren't you becoming too soft? You're a mere toy to the mistress, playing around with you until she gets tired. The princess is just a brat.' I heard from outside the door, I was going to my room. I peeped in the room to see them half-naked, sprawled on the couch. Bellies protruding everywhere, too. Anyway, the room stunk of alcohol, and there was probably fifteen bottles on the couch, table, floor – everywhere. Then, my father answered groggily, 'Don't you underestimate me, Askaar. I have my own set of fine concubines. You'll see, you will. Call on my vizier and you will know them. There are twenty, twenty little chicklets brooding in the nest. Marra is not playing with me… I am playing with her.' Then, the two rolled around in chorused laughter. Of course I told Mom this, curious out of her reaction, not really for her own sake. She stared at me dumbfoundedly, but when we did as the vizier, he produced twenty fine ladies of all races you will ever think off." Saran chuckled. "That perverted old man, they were all underage, but fully paid as double as the vizier's own salary."
Kurapika gawked. The princess was actually revealing to him one of the most royal scandals ever to erupt in their kingdom. If the information leaked out, everyone would be mad at the emperor and there's a chance of the people running to the castle to try to overthrow…
"Oh, well, Mom sent all of them out of the castle, each with their skirts bumbled up with gold," Saran continued. "Mom told them to 'Get away and never return,' but 'Leave with these royal gifts of gold from the emperor.'" Saran grinned. "We told them that Father 'had fun.'" She laughed. "Well, those prostitutes believed and tying up their own garments in their bags, moved out of the kingdom. Father started acting strangely, even jittery. He kept on asking his vizier for 'those harlots.' But none of them returned! They've all been princesses in their own royal nations. What a life," Saran smiled. "But anyway, realizing that Father won't really stop his endless search for those girls, Mother started to torture himself. Father prepared royal banquets and all for her – knowing that when she dies, a part of the kingdom will be gone from him, to be offered back to her parents – to make sure she'll stay healthy. In the end, all people departed with full stomachs, except her. She started to turn pale. Bags hung under her blue eyes. She started to turn thinner, thinner, thinner. Until she was bedridden. She told me, 'Be strong for your father.' I didn't know what that meant, and still didn't know." Saran looked up at Kurapika. "But father told me to be strong… for someone special."
Kurapika looked at her dumbfoundedly. "You mean him?"
Saran just smiled a tender smile at him and looked out the carriage window. "Someone else."
Not one of them dared to talk after that.
"So the emperor is giving you royal tutor?"
"Yes," Kurapika said, for the umpteenth time that night. His parents were so excited to have their son studying. "And I will study with the Saran."
"Saran…" his father thought. "You mean Sarantsartsral-hime-chan?" he clarified. Kurapika nodded. "Boy, you must have respect. Call her with honorifics."
Kurapika frowned. "But she told me to call her Saran."
"You've met?" his mother asked. Kurapika nodded. "She was the one to fetch me from the grazing fields."
"And the tutor begins?"
"When the emperor sends so," Kurapika said, standing up from his position in the seat. "May I excuse myself? I feel tired…"
"You are excused, Kurapika," his mother said, and stood to give him a goodnight kiss. "Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," Kurapika said, and closed the door to his room.
Kurapika lay on his bed – the first time he'd actually sleep in it this week – staring at the moonlight that peered through the hole in the wall that would barely be classified as window. The stars were bright that night, and the moon was wearing a pallid glow beside them. The wind blew in soft whispers, making his makeshift curtain flutter.
He couldn't sleep, either. It had been four hours since he had excused himself from the table. Four hours had he been disturbed by his conscience. It irritated him, irked him. Something was bugging him. But he didn't know. Biting at the edge of his mind.
Oh for God's sake, he thought, finally standing up. I'm a sleep-lacking twelve-year-old. Would someone let me sleep. He forced his eyes to look outside, to the serene, quiet surroundings. The view he had was an empty, grassy field, with the long, ghostly road at the far left, leading to nowhere, and a tree that cast a scary shade by the road. Otherwise, it was just plain field.
He whistled silently to an old friend, and in the room came Vas. Slobbering and all, but sleep lingered in his golden eyes. He stood there, as excited as a monkey for five seconds, staring at Kurapika, who refused to give any reaction. Then, like shut off, he slumped on the bed, curling up like a ball as was his habit. In a few seconds, he was asleep.
Kurapika laughed at his friend. He patted the dog's head, and the ears flattened onto it. Kurapika leaned on the dog and made himself comfotable lying on the dog's furry back. He could imagine a serene plain. Light blue skies, fresh green grass, lush with the morning dew. The sun a bright round ball bringing life to the inhabitants of the planet earth.
Tranquility.
A piece of his grandfather's world flashed in his eyes before he finally fell into sleep.
"Mother!"
"Aww, please, Pika. Wear this." She handed a tunic of blue and gold to the young boy. "It's the first day of tutor."
"And just another day of sheparding," he said, shrugging off the tunic to stay back in his white shirt. "I swear, mother, those will just get stained."
The edge of his mother's lips twitched. "Oh, boy, dear. You just plan on playing with Vas," she said, stabbing a finger in his direction.
"Oh yes I do," Kurapika said. "Mother, I highly doubt the princess would actually care if I dressed up in gold than if I wear just this – as I've worn yesterday to the Emperor's hall. I doubt it would actually make a difference." He whistled to Vas. "I will tutor when I will. Tunics won't actually make a difference right?"
His mother frowned. Her son had beaten her in her own game. "Well, I guess you're right." She put the tunic on his bed. "But if you do want…"
"No, and nothing will change my mind, mother," he said, ending their argument. "Father, I will go out to the fields now!" He said, before finally stepping out of their cottage to go to the sheep. He whistled to Vas and Vas followed obediently the order of the day – the same as the rest of the days – to send the sheep to the grazing field.
When they reached the grazing field, Kurapika was surprised to find the princess sitting by herself on a rock, twiddling with her hair which hung to her waist when untied. She wore simple clothes today – a long, mildly-frilly red skirt that reached to below her knee, and a white cotton blouse. "Aah, Pika-chan, you're here," she said.
He raised an eyebrow at her. "And when did you learn of my pet name? Only mother – and unusually father – uses that weird name on me."
"Really now?" Saran smiled at him. "All the children I asked called you 'Pika-chan'." She giggled.
Kurapika frowned pettily. "Backstabbers."
"Not really," Saran said. She looked at the sheep. "This is actually the first time I've went out of the castle on my own. And I've never dressed this plainly anywhere, so no one really recognized me. I guess they'd have called you Kurapika-nii-san when I dressed up as princess."
"Hmp," Kurapika said. Excuses, excuses. But he'll have to get used to that. "But what brings you here, Saran?"
Saran smiled. Kurapika was finally unhesitant to call her Saran. "Tutor."
"Tutor?" Kurapika asked, genuinely surprised. "Are you serious it begins now?"
"No, silly," Saran said, giggling. "I came ahead of time. We were supposed to study in your house. Tutor's coming there. When you're done with your adorable flock," she teased him. "Oh, is that a lamb over there?"
Kurapika nodded, and lifted the lamb to give the princess. "There you go. Did you know that I've probably named every single one of them, and know them by those features in their faces? It's pretty dull out here in the day, especially since there aren't much predators, so I end up naming them all." The princess was stroking the lamb's head. "That's Sakura."
"Sakura?" she asked, and he nodded. "What an outlandish name. Sorta." She smiled. "But I've heard of it. Sakura, sakura, bring your cherry blossoms, Sakura."
Kurapika nodded. "I've read that too."
"Ohh? You have? Is our smarty-pants trying to outwit me?" she teased.
"Not really," Kurapika said, scratching the non-existent itch atop his head. "I was just stating."
"Mmm…" she thought, burying her face in the white fleece of the lamb. "Sakura, sakura, bring your cherry blossoms, Sakura."
Kurapika looked up at the sky, as was his habit. "Bring us today the breeze of your fragrance, Bring us today the breeze of tranquility."
Saran looked up at Kurapika, who seemed to be thoughtful. She continued the song. "Bring us back to the olden days, bring us back to the past. Bring back to us the link to our brothers."
Kurapika looked at Saran. "The song ends there, no?"
Saran nodded. "That's the farthest as I know."
Kurapika looked back up at the blue sky, white clouds looking like sheep flying in the sky. "This might sound mellow, but… who do you think are those brothers?"
Saran smiled, looking up at the flying sheep. "Ahh, Kurapika. You will learn, too. You will."
"Saran, Saran we're going," Kurapika said, shaking the sleeping girl. She peeled her eyes open. The sun was a scarlet-gold, bouncing off Kurapika's hair.
"Mou… is it late already?"
"The sun will set in half an hour," Kurapika said, helping her up. He whistled to Vas, and soon the sheep were on the move. "I can't believe you'd do that."
Saran looked at him innocently. "Do what?"
"I mean, talking to me a moment, then the next you'd be off in La-la-land. That something I couldn't have done." He smired.
Saran just shrugged her shoulders. "You know, since I can't kill you yet, I'll just take that as a bashful compliment. As a princess, when I take a compliment, the reply is, 'Why, thank you.' So there." She grinned.
Kurapika rolled her eyes. Girl tenacity or what?
"Let's get going, Pika-chan," she said, now ahead of Kurapika, tugging on his sleeves. "Tutor must be in your house now." She grinned wider. "I bet, he'd be asking your parents embarrassing things about your mental and emotional health."
"WHA~AT?" Kurapika shouted, and then walked a beat faster than before. Saran grinned. He actually fell for that?
The sun, now cooling down, beat on both their face, smiling and full of fun.
Oblivious to the changes in store for them.
"Have you located them?"
"No, not yet, Danchou. Almost."
"Be sure to have that ready in a few days."
"Hai."
"So this gravity thing pulls everything to earth?" Kurapia asked.
"Yes," the tutor, named Kohei, said. "Just like this." He took his pen and dropped it on the floor. "It is gravity that pulls it down, back to the ground."
"Gravity has power to pull everything – trees, mountains, grass, humans, animals – to the ground, so you've said. But what about birds? They fly. What about kites? They rise from the ground."
Kohei smiled. "There we go. They resist the gravity, and puts effort to fight it, if they want to stay inborn, anyway."
Now Kurapika was really confused. To a province-boy, this would be too much information – Actually, the beeper was already ringing in his head. TOO MUCH INFORMATION ALERT! TOO MUCH INFORMATION ALERT! He thought his brain would explode! He was too dizzy and was having a headache with these information. "I agree that birds can put effort, because they're living beings, but how do kites do it?"
"Because it is the wind force that pulls them high," Kohei said.
Kurapika sighed. First it's gravity, then effort, now wind force? He wanted to bang his head into the wall, make more space for the information and details to enter in. His head felt like wet, mushy mud. I'll never get the hang of this tutoring stuff. He scratched his head, showing definite confusion and ununderstanding. Kohei and Saran just laughed at him.
"Don't worry, Pika-chan," Saran said before she left. "You will learn, too. You will."
A/N: Bam. xD I wanted to reach 10,000 words for my first chapter but I realized the details would be stretched and there wouldn't be much more for the first two chapters, the supposedly introductory ones. I just wanted to cut it there. It's like, CLIFFHANGER FEVER. Lol.
Anyway. Initial images of what the first six thousand words described? What do you think of his parents? Or Saran? Or himself? What is his relation to the wolves? What does Saran know?
Does the first chapter even make sense? _
Oh well. I'll try to explain better the next chapter. As for the names, I picked them up from the internet. Here's how you read two of the names mentioned... and some explanations, too.
Ulaan – oops lumber until
Ounaboura – Oh nothing bow ra
Naranbataar, Narantuyaa – Mongolian-origin names I have forgotten the definition.
Sarantsartsral – Mongolian, meaning something with moonlight.
There we go. xD The others were completely randomified. The first thing that came to mind. =] Six thousand words feels like an accomplishment. I hope I did good.
Til next chapter. Ja ne!