Part Two: An Interlude with Time
Without the teleporting stone Akari couldn't reach the summit. Her feet were in no condition to traverse the overgrown pass, both ankles clearly sprained, but what was worse was that the fateful storm had resulted in a landslide- there wasn't much of a pass left. After no change to the pass or hint at the stone's whereabouts she discontinued her visits and returned to the farm with heavy reluctance.
More than ever she wished for Finn. Her curious little companion would have no doubt reassured her that this wasn't the end, that the King was as he was and she would just need to keep trying; Finn would be her ever steady friend and guide, lighting the way. Just like old times.
Instead there was only work. Hours and hours of toil made harder by her condition. The swelling in her feet went down little by little but the pain continued to gnaw at her. The good doctor Jin had conceded her fears: she had broken most of her toes and the bones needed to set before they could mend. If she was hasty she might never walk without pain again. The bones that had already begun to heal improperly were broken again.
Jin's wife Anissa was incorrigible and insisted she help out on the farm while she got the rest necessary for healing. She recruited the ranch-hands Grey and Renee to assist with the animals. Tucked up in bed Akari had little else to do but wonder after the turn of events. Summer was passing her by, had the last few years been the same?
"Hey Finn," she would call out, thinking to greet him cheerfully.
She wasn't sure when it happened. After their quest Finn had returned to the Goddess, but he would still visit her from time to time. She'd heard of the phenomenon from Gill, and once or twice from a few of the village children: sometimes you just stopped seeing.
There was no answer.
With her gaze focused on the faded pattern of her duvet, she allowed heavy tears to fall. How did she still see and hear the King if everything else has become invisible to her.
She paced around the idea until fact and reason lost shape and became meaningless. It was unfair, cruel.
"Are you comfortable?" Anissa asked soothingly, fluffing her pillow. She was like a freshly plucked flower in a room Akari had become far too familiar with.
"Thank you," she replied with a polite smile. She wanted nothing more than to be uncomfortable; to feel the ground beneath her boots, the hoe bite into the soil, the cool mist of the waterfall where she liked to fish. But her farm was already beginning to resemble something she no longer knew. She was sick with herself for her inability to accept the villager's kindness graciously.
What was it she had come here for?
"Finn?" she called again when she was alone. Her curtains were lit orange by the harvest moon that slowly slipped away behind the trees.
Autumn, she realized.
"If you are there, I want you to know that I miss you. I hope you aren't sad seeing me like this." Tears staunched, she watched her farm change beyond the windowpane.
"I'm going to get better."
Van's claret eyes were pinched and exhausted behind his round glassy frames. Akari knew that look. It was the same expression that took up residence on his father's face during her afternoon check-ups.
"Hurry up, Akari," He sighed. He didn't seem to notice to the irrational tapping of his foot that progressed during his wait. Cheeky, she thought, his genetics were surely an anomaly; one does not put the doctor and his wife together and arrive at the conclusion of this impatient little scholar. His recent outspokenness was his and his alone.
"I'm hurrying," she replied good-naturedly, dodging the blurred figures of Roy and Lucy that seems to scissor between her legs.
"She's broken ,Van, don't push her!" Lucy announced.
"Not broken anymore per se..." Akari interjected, grateful for Lucy's defence but keen to clear her name of prejudice all the same. "I'm fine, I'll catch you up." She winked to Van and the stoic boy nodded firmly, chasing after the others.
Her newfound company marched ahead to the stables and Akari reflected on their retreating backs. During their walks her feet still protested, but it was an entirely necessary operation.
Initially the idea provoked both Jin's disapproval and Anissa's starry-eyed admiration. However the latter would quickly and efficiently suffocate such admiration under her motherly yet sterile work-ethic.
"I can't stay inside any longer," She had said, appealing to them both.
"I'm going stir-crazy and I'm about to hatch bedsores- just two hours!" she urged. Two hours was nothing in the retrospect of her month in confinement, she thought, they had to agree to that. But Jin hesitated. He tapped the end of his pen against his lips as he studied her paperwork.
"You are a very impulsive individual, Akari..." He said, glancing at her warily, "There will be conditions."
Two hours only, no climbing, running, or heavy lifting- no fun; Akari could remember all that easily.
With the clinic on her side, she approached the school's headmaster next. His surprise was needlessly transparent.
"Teaching?" Gill summarized, his hands threaded before him. His new office was empty save for them and a variety of shelved books.
"Yes," She answered, refusing to divulge.
"How to milk a cow?" The lilt of scepticism in his tone did not escape her but she ignored it.
"Amongst other things."
He leaned back in his chair until it squeaked and watched her thoughtfully. His scrutiny had been worse than Jin's and although she probably still deserved it, sitting through the process again was another thing entirely. She squirmed, chewed the inside of her cheek, and wished that he would finish soon.
"I think it's a great idea."
"What?" She rasped, unable to contain her astonishment.
"Sure," Gill smiled; it was a small uneven smile that didn't do his handsome features enough justice. It felt a little practiced but it was honest. "I'm glad you want to be involved again. Before the accident happened I thought we would lose you." He sucked his simpering position back sharply realizing his error. "No, just that you've been quite distant after everything seemed to turn around."
Akari wanted to sink into the ground. She and Gill had never been the best of friends but he'd understood her task and come to her rescue more than once. Their lives continued to move in opposite directions but he would always be a kindred spirit of sorts.
"That bad?" she asked soberly, feeling warmth spread in her cheeks. Something about Gill's previous scrutiny felt a little different now; inquisitive to the point of creating heat. She wanted to apologize for her behaviour and be away, back to old habits- habits that made her feel secure.
He nodded and seeming to sense her frustration turned off his gaze. "It's better this way. You're one of us you know. If you ever need help you need only ask and we would be there immediately."
"We," she chuckled awkwardly, he could be such a Sunday afternoon TV special sometimes, "Thank you, Gill" she blushed again and his lopsided smile returned.
"Now that that's said, I'll deliver your students tomorrow."
By mid-afternoon that day Akari's farm was overrun by six to eight-year-olds. Gill had amended the class schedule every Tuesday to fit her in. Little learning was achieved in the first couple of weeks, but her students were energetic and responsive. Chasing after them allowed her rehabilitation to progress and she had a better idea of which children required what measure of instruction.
Rather than 'teacher' she felt more like she'd become 'friend' or 'playmate'-just another kid. As she felt better Jin's conditions became harder to maintain.
Van had taken a particular fondness to her given the amount of extra hours he and his mother had spent with her over the summer helping out with the crops. He often stayed later after the other children had been collected and brought home. Anissa was apologetic at first but eventually grateful for the additional time she could put in at the clinic.
"No heavy lifting," he reminded as she bent to retrieve the latest steel milk canister which was full to the brim. Sometimes she wondered if he wasn't just positioned here as a spy.
"So what shall we do with it then?" She returned frankly. She could practically read the calculations as they crossed his overly candid expression.
"I'll help you!"
Together they lifted the canister into the shipping box; although Akari had carried most of the weight Van had to raise his side of the can nearly over his head. Afterward he looked significantly impressed. They sat on her porch waiting for Anissa. The air had grown crisp and instead of the usual lemonade they drank hot cocoa; Akari's a dark chocolate froth and Van's more warm milk than anything else.
The same image of the distant mountain stretched out before them, masked by low hanging cloud and strangely comforting in its obscurity. Akari couldn't help but remember how she had wanted the King to sit with her just like this: amicable and silent. Perhaps looking up at the mountain like this instead of down from it might have eased his sorrows.
"Will you still teach us after your better?" Van asked.
"Hm, it'd probably be better to focus on my work again." she ruffled his hair and he immediately made to fix it.
"Can I still visit then?" he prodded.
For the first time since she'd settled on the island Akari felt wanderlust, but those claret eyes watched her with naive confidence and she couldn't bear to betray it.
"Of course."
Their comfortable evening wait persisted but Akari's heart had begun to race. It was reckless, foolish- stupid. She should stay here and continue to build on the life the King had charged her with.
It would happen naturally, the town was still just as willing to embrace her as it had been years ago; the children and their parents smiled her way every day and her crops were better than ever. Thanks to their generosity she felt she could simply hand herself over to them and she would live happily ever after. She would grow old. She would take a suitor; have children of her own...
And yet the mountain beckoned, Akari felt that with certainty. Perhaps it was only in reply to her itchy feet, still eager for adventure, but she sensed it went beyond that. By the time she had given it proper consideration she knew her mind had already been made up. The King's last orders pricked at her; to disobey would be to go against a god. And this time he held sway over her very existence.
It seemed she was still foolish after all.
A/N: Titled such as I'm sure the leaps through time offered a fair amount of confusion. The hours always seems to blend into one when you're at war with something.