KyokoRen Week 2024 Day 2: Journey

A Visit

"Kyoko!" he called.

She turned, looking for him and blushing when their eyes met—his green eyes glinted back at her under the airport fluorescents. Wings carried her feet over concrete, her suitcase bumping along as she dragged it behind her.

He had her in his arms before she could say a word. Large hands lifted her by the waist. She giggled as her feet left the ground, her own hands in his hair and then on his shoulders. For a minute they simply clung to each other, sharing each others' warmth. Kyoko nuzzled into him, breathing in his scent—almost as if to remind herself that he was not a figment of her imagination. And then his lips were on hers and they were kissing the way a starved people might eat.

The blast of a taxi's horn forced them back down to earth. Kyoko pushed herself reluctantly back onto the ground, but she didn't want to leave the circle of his arms.

"Corn." She'd called him Corn in private, before. Never with anyone else around. But he was blonde-haired and green-eyed right now, and calling him Ren just seemed…odd.

"Thank you for coming," he said. He smiled, but there was a somber look in his eyes. She held out her hand and he took it. All of their past and all of their future, joined here as their fingers entwined.

"Of course," she said lightly. "Just a short flight."

"LA to New York is not a short flight, love," he said. "And somehow I'm suspecting you decided to save money by camping on one of those cramped economy seats."

"There's no point in being needlessly wasteful." She stuck her tongue out and smirked. "I'm much smaller than you are. I don't need the legroom."

"Still. It couldn't have been the most comfortable choice. We'll just have to fly back together. Then you'll have to be on a more comfortable seat with me." Solemnly he tucked her arm in his, swung her luggage around with the other.

She gave him a sidelong glance and he laughed. "If you insist," she said.

"Dinner?" he asked. "I made reservations at Masa."

Her stomach growled before she could lodge a protest, and he pulled her along. "Let's go," he said.

=.=.=

Shadows had always followed in Ren Tsuruga's wake. For as long as Kyoko had known him, she'd seen them. Even as a little child of six, she could see the sadness in her fairy prince's eyes. Kuon at twenty-five had grown up, but some things had not changed. Many things had come to light in their time together. He'd fought past many of the demons she'd first met as Setsuka Heel. He'd even managed to subdue the monster that was Cedric Bennett. But Kyoko still felt a quiet sadness in him, sometimes. She knew he would talk to her about it when he was ready. She had a feeling that would be soon.

Both of them were veterans now—and both of them stood on the precipice of 'going public.' Kuon's newest movie would be his first credit as 'Kuon Hizuri.' He would debut as his true self with her at his side. That she would attend the rounds of press appearances, premieres, and interviews wouldn't have been a surprise to anyone—she'd been his co-star. What made it unusual was that they were planning on arriving at these appearances together, and for the very first time, they weren't planning to hide anything anymore. It would end years-long speculation about what they were to each other. They knew the gossip rags would have a meltdown. They were prepared.

In the meantime…he'd asked her to come to New York. 'Tie up loose ends,' he'd said. The look on his face told her how important this was to him. Kyoko had agreed readily and bought tickets, arriving mere days after his request. He counted her time in transit second-by-second, grateful that their time spent apart would soon be over.

And now he was driving them silently out of New York City, speeding further and further away from the tall buildings and city lights of Manhattan. She'd noticed the bouquet of shiragiku—white spider chrysanthemums—on the rental car's back seat. Out her window, she could see a blue sky and gold-red forests, glints of the Atlantic beyond. Autumn was in full glory. She didn't quite know where he was taking her. They passed through fluorescent-lit tunnels and any number of bridges. On straightaways, his hand would reach for hers. They didn't speak much. They didn't need to. She knew he wanted her support; she was happy to give him comfort.

He killed the engine in a parking lot overlooking the ocean. It was late afternoon. A stiff breeze off the Atlantic blew his hair back over his brow, bringing the tang of coming winter with it. He turned towards her, and again she knew to take his hand. Her golden eyes were scanning the far horizon. The water was a steely blue under a clear sky, framing a picturesque lighthouse perched at the end of a man-made isthmus.

"It's beautiful here," she said.

"I've always been glad that it was."

He led her down a path, her eyes widening when she saw the graveyard beyond.

"Rick," she said. "You've taken me to see Rick." Things fell into place. She remembered the afternoon she'd called him from Los Angeles, before he'd arrived to start filming Route. He hadn't told her where he was, though she'd deduced he was by the sea from the sound of waves in the background. Had he been here?

She felt him tremble and she squeezed at his hand. He paused as her arms locked around his body. He melted into her embrace, seeking her warmth and her solidity. "Yeah." His voice was rough and low. "I thought it was important, before we—" His voice caught and her heart melted.

"I understand," she whispered. She followed him down the path.

They stopped by a squat granite headstone, one that looked dignified but was not unusual in style. 'Erick Schnauzer' was engraved on it. His hand was ice-cold now—just like that day on the Dark Moon set, when he'd frozen at the wheel of a car.

He placed the bouquet of chrysanthemums on the grave.

Silently, he bowed. She bowed too. All they could hear was the sound of waves and the wind, the call of seagulls.

"Rick," he said quietly. "I'm sorry it's been a while since I last visited." He swallowed, hard, his vision blurring. The last time he'd been here had been years ago. He'd spent a long time by Rick's grave that day, telling him everything. Asking for his forgiveness. Making peace with his friend's absence. Time had moved forward at an increasing pace since, but he'd always meant to come back. "I want you to know that I've remembered you every day of my life since you went. I've tried to honor your memory. I've tried to do my best so that you're proud of me and now…"

Her eyes blurred, too, as he kept speaking. "I told you about Kyoko, and now I've brought her to see you."

He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I know I've asked you for so much," he said. "I know that I took away the happiness that should have been yours and Tina's. And I know I have no right to ask for your blessing. But I want to ask you to watch over us in the future."

He couldn't help the tear that strayed down his cheek.

"...Even if I don't deserve it." Kyoko put a gentle hand on his back and he brought his arm around her waist to pull her closer. "Even if it's selfish."

Another tear fell, but he found that his voice had strengthened.

"Because I love her," he said. "And I know you would have loved her too."

He bowed again, deeply. He knew his friend would've been puzzled at how Japanese the gesture was—the boy he'd known was an American teenager, an odd mix of entitlement and awkwardness, rage and vulnerability. But it was the only way he knew to convey the depth of his feelings. The only way he knew to tell his friend that he had grown into quite a different person—though the Kuon-that-had-been was still there.

He got up, turned from the grave and melted into Kyoko's arms. She held him steady as his tears fell onto her shoulder, kissing him on his forehead when their eyes finally met. "Will you let me talk to him on my own?" she asked.

He sniffled, gave her one more squeeze, and then nodded. He left Kyoko by Rick's grave on her own, watching her slender figure in the distance as he sat by the sea.

=.=.=

"Hajimemashite, Rick-san," she said formally. "As Kuon said…I'm Kyoko."

She found her heart beating faster, almost as if she were truly facing a flesh-and-blood relative of Kuon's. Over the years, his family had become her own—Kuu and Julie had embraced her as the daughter they'd never had. But all she ever knew of Rick were the things Kuon had told her. When he'd first told her his story, she'd been convinced that Rick had chased after Kuon out of love and concern. Such a man could not have hated her Corn. Such a man must have forgiven him, because she could not fathom otherwise. She'd also known, instinctively, that Tina could not have meant, truly, to call Kuon a murderer. She'd spent years talking to Kuon about it, wondering if he would ever stop blaming himself for his friend's death.

"I wish I could have met you, Rick-san," she said solemnly. "Kuon has told me so much about you—how you tried to protect him, and show him what it meant to be a grown-up man." She smiled ruefully. "He even told me about Brian the Chicken, and how you would listen to him when he had girl problems—and would you believe he made me eat the Maui Omurice?" She gave a sad laugh, thinking of all the happy moments that had been stolen from the man who lay beneath the cold earth. "He misses you. Every day, I think. He's the kind of man a lot of people like but few people know—he doesn't trust very easily. But he trusted you, and he loves you. And because of that, I love you too."

She bowed again to the grave, thinking of the man whose smile she'd only ever seen in pictures.

"I want to thank you, Rick-san," she said solemnly, "for all of the love you gave Kuon. And…I want you to know that I will take care of him, too. You will never have to worry about him—I will do my best to care for him, especially when dark memories haunt him. I've tried to be worthy of him so I could take my place by his side. But I hope…I hope that you know how grateful I am that you were in his life. Please…Watch over us."

Quietly, she said goodbye to the grave, brushing off a stray leaf. When she was done, she turned to find Kuon sitting on the stone embankment, watching as the sun began to set. She joined him, sighing when he kissed her on her forehead.

"Did you speak to him?" Kuon asked.

She nodded.

They sat looking over the October sea, staying until the lighthouse lit up and began sending out its beam into the night.

They were looking forward to the future they saw in its light.

=.=.=.=.=.=

Author's Note:

We know that Kuon visited Rick's grave in New York, but not *where* in New York. We know that Kyoko heard waves during their conversation. A review of New York lighthouses shows a resemblance to the Sleepy Hollow/Tarrytown lighthouse, but it's not an exact match. Sleepy Hollow is *not* by the sea, so I ruled out Sleepy Hollow because of the wave inference. I mean, it's conceivable the lighthouse was in New Jersey, too? OR it's entirely possible that the location is imaginary. Iunno. Sensei is playing games with us. As it is, I left the direction of their journey intentionally vague. I wanted, badly, to have them cross the Verrazano bridge because IT IS A BEAUTIFUL BRIDGE, but it's also too distinctive a bridge to leave vague. That said, doesn't it look like Eren Yeager's final Titan form? Sorry, I digress.

Also...white chrysanthemums are often placed on the grave of loved ones in Japan.

Please let me know what you think.
Parkerbear

20 August 2024