Author's Note: Anemone's thoughts about feeling empty, set at the end of the anime series. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I don't own Eureka Seven.

Emptiness

#

After everything was said and done, and once everyone who needed saving had been saved, she felt strangely empty:

TheEND was gone. Dewey was dead. The military complex – her home – shut down indefinitely.

She had absolutely nothing to return to.

And yet, everything around her was changing, adapting, constantly moving. Outside her window, a whole new world was slowly taking shape, and she could only watch in stunned silence as nobody was dying.

It would seem that Eureka and Renton Thurston would get their happy ending after all.

They were supposed to be travelling, exploring the world together. Eureka had written about dusty roads and something she called 'camp fires', and there had been no return address on the back of the yellow envelopes. Not that it mattered much. They weren't like sisters, or even friends; their correspondence was sporadic at best.

But she supposed that she was glad for their sake. Eureka and her boyfriend had endured so much to be together that it only seemed fair.

Once upon a time, she would have scoffed at the foolishness, but not now. Not anymore.

Love was funny that way. It was neither the sparkly magic she had read about in books nor did it transform ugly ducklings into beautiful swans, but something about it changed people. And love made her feel less hollow inside; somehow, it soothed the dull ache left behind by the pieces of her that were missing, and she didn't hurt as much anymore.

Even so, the emptiness remained, because whenever she looked in the mirror, she saw a weapon steadily growing duller with neglect and disuse.

They never spoke about their lives from before or what had been. Instead, they busied themselves with the goings-on of today, making plans for the days still waiting for them beyond the sunrises of endless tomorrows. There was never any real need to talk about the past: he knew her life's story like it was his own, and she knew the essential components of his. But more than that, she suspected that neither he nor she was ready to admit that despite the many evils of that man's twisted delusions, they both looked back on their time with Dewey Novak with pride. Speaking about him would force them to denounce him and his deeds, and to deny their debts to the man who singlehandedly raised them from nothing and gave them everything.

Certainly, she would be lying if she said that she didn't miss soaring through the air: effortlessly, beautifully and high above the heads of everyone else. Back then, she had been Anemone, Dewey's favourite and the pilot of the Federation LFO Nirvash typeTheEND. They had hailed her as a hero, a champion of hope. If only for a preciously short while, she had been admired, adored and undefeated.

But now, while she was still 'Anemone', her purpose in life – insofar that she had ever really had one – was gone, spent, over.

She would never pilot again, and there were no more enemies for her to engage.

They had no further use for her.

She was obsolete.

A humanoid-yet-not-quite-human, an alien-yet-not-quite-Coralian, she existed somewhere in between – separate even from Eureka – as the only one of her kind.

Unique, was what she once had thought of herself. Special. Extra awesome. Worthy.

But that was a long, long time ago.

She now knew that she possessed no natural place in the world, being no more than a freak accident, the result of the science project of a madman.

After all, she shouldn't even be alive.

So when everything was supposed to be over, she felt strange and empty; and she had relied on Dominic to do what he thought was best.

Then a letter had arrived, informing her that her case finally had been evaluated. Despite the demise of her LFO and Drs. M. Egan and G. Egan's joint efforts to lessen her reliance on her daily drug injections, the panel of experts responsible for her fate had deemed her 'a potential threat to national security'. Apparently, she was a violent manic-depressive with paranoid tendencies, emotionally unstable at best and a frenzied murdered if left alone to her own devices – and as such she should immediately be placed in protective custody. Or solitary confinement, if one bothered to read between the lines.

She had expected as much, and still it filled her with apprehension. But it was not the loneliness she dreaded – after all, she had been alone for most of her life and was well-versed in solitude – it was the obedient resignation in his eyes when he would tell her that he was sorry that she did not wish to see.

'Dominic, they have decided,' she had said at last one evening, looking away. 'They... They're taking me back.'

'Over my dead body,' he had snarled in reply, snatching the letter from her hands and a few seconds later, irregular pieces of military-issued confetti were littering the floor of their apartment. 'You're not going anywhere without me.'

His uncharacteristic outburst marked the beginning of a long, stubborn tug-of-war for her freedom, and he had fought for her tooth and nail.

She had never seen him so angry as when he returned home from one of his many meetings with their board of superiors – not even when her private squad of scientists and doctors had dragged her off for an unscheduled modification, or when Dr. Diamond and his henchmen experimented with the Compact Drive until she lost consciousness from the excruciating pain – and it made her wonder if, perhaps, she had misjudged him; even though Dominic Sorel was not particularly prone to barking, it would seem that he certainly knew how to bite.

'I suppose that I'm rather tolerant,' he had smiled in explanation when she had told him as much. 'But there are certain things in life that are worth getting upset about.'

'Things like me?' she had teased mischievously, hoping to coax forth a blush, or at least a stutter or two.

'Well. Yes, Anemone,' he had answered, undeterred by her efforts. 'You don't think I'm not so rotten that I'd stand by and do nothing while the woman I love is being dragged off to prison.'

'Of course not,' she had replied with a smile she knew would leave him breathless. 'Because Dominic is the best.'

So while she would always carry with her that strange feeling of emptiness, there were moments when he managed to make her feel almost whole again. She could feel herself changing, slowly but surely, little by little, for each successful medical check-up and for each of Dominic's proud smiles when she lasted a few more minutes longer without an injection.

Shedding her heavy armour and letting go of one identity in order to embrace another was frightening and exhilarating all at once, and she was grateful that she wasn't alone. She still didn't know for certain, but perhaps, maybe she wasn't as empty as she thought.