Salice smiled in earnest, reaching slowly for Thomas's wringing hands. She was met with a slight resistance, like a thin film before she broke through the tension of his translucent skin and phased right through him. She tried again, this time moving slowly. She felt more. She felt him for longer. For a moment, he didn't seem so thin.
"We might just need to slow down, is all. Besides, there's more to do than just touching."
That was true. But what was also true: they longed to touch each other. Thomas couldn't help but make eyes at Salice's skin.
Itching to abide by it, be beside it, to be inside it.
Kissing every inch of the surface, sliding his hands along its bareness, seeing her without her clothes. Every action that he'd exacted upon her in his mind had an opposite, more devastating reaction to his own translucent body. Thomas wanted her so badly, it drove him to madness.
There were always two questions driving him to his second demise: Why would he be sent such a gorgeous angel if he could not touch her?
And.
How many desperate attempts and plotted schemes would it take for him to be able to?
Sometimes, he came around to philosophizing that the true eternal punishment was his ghostliness withholding from him, the woman of his dreams... not even the ghostly ghosthood itself.
The way she'd walk, her thighs well acquainted with one another, friction created between them, the fabric of her clothing tinder to the heat of her... Thomas never wished so much to be between something. Two somethings. That or his face between her two careful hands when she kissed his forehead with those pretty lips. Sometimes, when the moons were full and his body was as close to flesh as it would ever be, Thomas could feel her fangs scrape against his skin in the fainted whisper. He wished the moon to never shrink, for he longed for enough time to find those fangs elsewhere.
Sometimes, most times, Thomas would find himself pressed up against her soft, warm body. It would feel so much warmer to someone alive, but nevertheless, the action brought him comfort. Salice was like an anchor, and he was like a raft of driftwood: flimsy and weak and frail. Her radiance was disorienting. Thomas wanted to bask in her all day, all night, for the rest of his life. That skin of hers is so rich, so smooth, so deep. He coveted it. He wanted it for himself. And by that, he wanted to indulge in it. In her. To take a bite of her and lick the wound clean. That's what he wanted. The sensation of Salice's skin.
Part of that that was envy, itching for his own skin to feel things with. He could admit that. He could also admit the only thing he'd ever want to feel was her. And proudly so. However, Tom gave up that hope a long time ago. He knew he'd never have that again. His own body? His own skin? Laughable. So laughable, they put his picture on a joke book. But sharing her skin? Those are the attainable goals Thomas was in the habit of making.
What ghost needs their own body, Thomas thought. Not him.
He had hers.
"Of course there is, Salice. I didn't mean-"
Salice had seen his face fall when she mentioned the inability of the tactile nature. And even more so when he thought he was coming across as if that were all he wanted from her. She hated this worry. They had not a single one otherwise. They two seemed to be the perfect match... save for their circumstantial predicament. The lack of touching, it disappointed her too. Believe it, she was just as eager to partake in the more carnal of desires as he was... every sentiment shared. And she became equally frustrated and sad when things didn't go like they wanted, but she didn't want that to show. She wanted to focus on the positive things. There weren't many to share between a devil and a ghost. Their relationship was the one they often settled on.
"I always know exactly what you mean. There's no need to apologize. We've plenty of time to figure this out. Don't we?"
As in plenty of time, she meant forever. If forever is what she wanted, Thomas would give her one day more.
Name's Yumi... Remember it or Don't, I Don't Care.
Full Name: Yumichika Ishizaki
Pronouns: He/Him
Sexuality: Queer
Age: 27
Birthplace: Kawabata Province, Kyoh
Ethnicity: Kyoh
Birthday: March 2nd
Pet: Botan the One-Eyed Cat
Appearance:
Yumi is 6′2 (188 cm) and has a very lean body type. He has a notably long torso, and long, slender legs. His skin is pale like porcelain and at times even ghostly. Yumi has waist-length stark black hair, which he was often bullied for at the academy. He usually wears it in a high ponytail or down his back. Yumi stores a lot of importance in his hair and takes care of it very well.
Yumi has angular features including sharp cheekbones, a pointed chin, an angular nose, and a cut jawline. His faded pink lips are curved, often into a cat-like smirk. Yumi has slender blue-grey eyes and thin brows. He also has a beauty mark on his chin. He has a lot of piercings and tattoos since he learned to do them at a really young age. Yumi has scars all over his body from his years of dangerous training and battles, and his most notable one is a slash scar over the ribs on the left side of the body. He had stitches here.
Favorite Things:
Favorite Colors: navy blue, cornflower blue, baby blue
Favorite Flower: cherry blossom
Favorite Drinks: grape juice, oatmilk, herbal teas, vodka
Favorite Foods: grapes, miso soup, bento box, fried fish, fondue
Favorite Hobbies: reading and writing, calligraphy, swimming, playing guitar, taking care of his fish
Skills: playing the guitar, horseback riding, several martial arts, archery, cooking,
Relationships:
Daigo Ishizaki, father
Erina Ishizaki, mother
Momoka Ishizaki, biological sister
Nozomi Ito, father figure
Jasika Ito, adoptive sister
Shuhei Kumagai, former love interest and best friend
Tsumugi-Gen Hada, childhood friend and former fiancee
Charlie Reyes, love interest and close friend
Daniel Reyes, close friend
Alan Reyes, father figure and mentor
Salice Halloway, close friend
Eid Noguchi, acquaintance
Rei Guong, friend and classmate
Da Song, friend and classmate
Yoo Joon Im, friend and classmate
Umeko Kuo, friend and classmate
Personality:
Yumi has many different facets to his personality. When he was younger, he was soft-spoken and wary of others. As he grew older, he was less afraid of other people than critical of them. As he gained confidence, what other people said mattered less and less to him. He was often judged harshly for his stylistic choices and mannerisms, but somehow managed to develop a self-assured and go-with-the-flow personality. His best friend and first boyfriend had a lot to do with this. They were opposites this way, Shuhei often being hot-headed and tightly wound, and Yumi being more calm and easygoing. When you get to know him, he makes a lot of jokes and can be very flirty. He's supportive and kind to the people that he cares about and gives a lot of good advice. He values close relationships and will do whatever it takes to protect the people he cares about. Yumi is very good at choosing his battles, which is something he learned at a very young age. Yumi is someone who will go to war for his family. Not necessarily the family he was born to, but most certainly the family he found.
About Him:
Yumi's household situation was less than ideal. His father, Daigo, was a small business owner. His mother, Erina, was a stay-at-home mother. His father urged him from a young age to take an apprenticeship at his business, but that was never in Yumi's interest. Daigo was never supportive of the things Yumi had taken an interest in as a child. He would urge him to spend more time doing things 'befitting of a boy'. He would threaten to cut his hair and burn his clothes and toys. This quickly caused a divide between Yumi and his father, so quickly that Yumi can hardly recall a time when he liked his father.
He spent a lot of time with his mother because of this. She bought him his first fish, which they kept in their koi pond outside. They would often bond with activities such as these, which increasingly damaged the family dynamic with Daigo. Yumi saw how these actions affected his father and chose to stay away from home as much as possible. He didn't understand why he had to choose between a close relationship with his mother and his family's safety, but he had learned very quickly that causes have effects.
Between his time at home and at school, Yumi found refuge at a tattoo parlor down the road, where an astounding artist did his work. Nozomi Ito, he was called, lived there with his son and young daughter. He took a liking to Yumi and he often spent time with them when he couldn't stomach being home. In fact, he spent so much time there that Ito's daughter, Jasika, and Yumi became as close as siblings.
Meanwhile, Daigo's business was failing. After bankruptcy, he was desperate for a source of income. He had begun farming like many of the other families in the province, but it was not enough.
Jumping on the first opportunity at a lump sum, Daigo had hastily promised his only son to the daughter of the Hada family. They were a well-to-do family with a barren daughter, so Daigo's desperation was equal to the Hadas' desire to find a husband for their daughter. Erina was furious about Daigo's decision to marry their son off to someone he didn't know at such a young age, but it was final. At eight years old, Yumi didn't understand what engagement meant. He met Tsumugi-Gen shortly after the engagement was finalized. The two got along quite well and became friends. The families allowed them to wait to be married until they were of legal age so that the children could focus on their educations.
After this event, the Ishizaki family was at its weakest. Daigo began to take out his many frustrations on his resentful wife and helpless son, with many arguments and threats. Yumi had been hit many times, but never retaliated until he saw his mother being abused.
Yumi couldn't stand to watch his mother be punished for things they couldn't control. Yumi thought if he was just a better boy, then all of this would never happen. He thought if he disappeared, things would be better for them.
He applied for the prestigious Ishikawa Academy, where Kyoh's best and brightest were cultivated into the most important and influential figures in the country. He deemed it the golden ticket to run away from home and provide the means for his mother to finally leave his father. The Hada family wrote him a recommendation letter that helped him get into the academy. At eight years old, he packed his things and was gone, living between the Hada family home and Ito's house until he was accepted and escorted to the academy where he spent the next fourteen years of his life.
After graduation, Yumi stayed in Kyoh for a short while. He ended things with his first love to marry Tsumugi as he'd promised. After a year of marriage, his wife could see he was not fulfilled. It was hard to do, yet she told him the marriage could be annulled. He'd already done more than what was expected of him, she said, and the marriage was something that neither of them chose. Yumi had a heavy heart but they agreed that it was the best option and he assured her it was never anything she could have changed. He loved her, but not in the way that was expected of them.
Yumi then took his degree and used it to move to a bustling metropolis. He easily obtained work writing for an informer, work he was overqualified for but loved nonetheless. He lived alone with his cat for months, plagued by strange dreams he could not properly control. Dreams he's had ever since he was a child.
It was here in this place he met the girl that would open his eyes and become his forever partner.
Salice waited, watching the moonlight dance on the water of Lover's Lake. She'd returned to her best friend's house, where she'd been living, filled a basin with water, and taken a rose bath. She smelled of spring and looked like summer in a dress as white as a lamb. She'd prepared herself beautifully like she would meet god.
Tonight, she just might.
The moonlight washed over her like a milky drape, and it was this image that Thomas saw first as he approached her.
It wasn't but a few hours earlier that he'd gotten the courage to right what was going to be the most devastating wrong of his life. Laying next to the woman of his dreams in the St Augustine grass, he made the decision to call off the marriage he'd been dreading for months. The one-sided promise he'd been agonizing over.
"Breaking a one-sided promise is self-preservation."
Salice had never been so right. Then again, when Thomas thought about it, he couldn't ever recall a time when she was wrong.
When he saw her here, waiting for him in white, Thomas couldn't believe his eyes. He's struggled for so long to see clearly, to see something that wasn't an unattainable fantasy in his dreams. But he was looking at his fantasy now and it had finally become a reality.
"Salice?"
She turned, her dark curls tumbling down her shoulders, left bare by her romantic dress. Her green eyes were home.
I can barely write this. I think for the first time in a long time, I'm lost for words.
I'll have a coffee and I'll start it like this.
I got a letter in the post about a fortnight ago. It was from my old college. I wasn't expecting to ever hear from that place ever again, since I left so abruptly and had to drop out and all. They've always told me I was a gifted kid. I didn't believe them then, but looking back I ought to have.
The letter was summoning me back for the opportunity to work in the literary department. I'd be the head of the school newsletter and be responsible for all of Quinton's news in the Embry Times. I couldn't believe it when I saw it, paper trembling in my fingers and all. It was a dream come true.
But then it sunk in a bit. I realized what it was going to mean for me. I had to leave Maeth. Embry was my home too, sure, but this place held all my fondest memories. It was where my soul belonged. The reality of leaving wedged its way underneath my skin like a screwdriver under a paint can.
I'd have to leave my mum, my dad... and I'd have to leave Feliciana. She's a teenager now, just old enough for me to worry. I love that girl more than life itself. I wouldn't get to see her finish growing up.
There was my family to consider, which was what first came to my mind. Then dad's business. I felt bad leaving him to do it all on his own. He assured me he could do it on his own, but when I told him that was absurd, he told me he wouldn't be alone anyway. He had Feliciana to help him, which she was more than willing and happy to do. That made me feel a lot better. She'd become an incredible seamstress, that one. My mum helped when she could, but we'd made a comfortable life for ourselves out here. My dad told me it was time for me to do the same. I'd cared for our family and paid my dues... and that hit me like a steam engine, for sure.
The anxiety about leaving my family waned to almost nothing, even though I was still going to miss them like crazy. I spent most of my time with them, helping out and laughing with them. All the rest of my time I spent at work... and with my mates.
All their lives were here, Thomas with the workshop and Cole at the mill. They wouldn't be able to just get away and go abroad to see me all the time. I'd be leaving them for a good while. That would be hard, leaving them. I'd make new friends and reunite with the old ones at Quinton but they haven't seen me since I was fifteen. I'm a changed man, I'd like to think. Thomas, Marcos, Cole, and Matias.. they've done watch me grow up, my musketeers. They were my brothers. Got me through school, got me through hardship after hardship, pep talks and wild nights and all. I couldn't think of a better group of lads.
Then I thought about Isabella.
Isabella, Isabella, Isabella.
I didn't know why I was still holding on to that girl and still don't. She's been married for at least a year now. I kept track of the days at first, but then I realized how lunatic that was. I had started drinking the days away so I don't remember how many have passed anymore. I tried not to do that. She's happy and her husband's a good man, and I'd even go as far as to say he's one of my mates. But it was hard for me to accept that she was taken... and that she was probably happier than I could ever make her.
After a few days of deciding, I made up my mind. My mum said I should go. My dad was very supportive, even Feliciana said to go follow my dreams. That was inspiring. She said she'd miss me a lot, but it would give her an excuse and a safe place to visit in Embry.
So that was that.
I put in my notice at The Maeth Post. I'd been working at that newspaper for almost four years. They said it'd be hard seeing me go, but they were happy for me. A little envious even. A lot of them hadn't been out of the country, certainly not as far as Embry. I told them I'd write. They told me it's what I did best.
I told my mates. They were all so thrilled for me. Thomas especially. He was telling me about the collaborative workshop they had in Embry that mainly focused on infrastructural achievements, but every once in a while one of them would come down to Maeth for a work-study and vice versa. It would be a bloody coincidence if Thomas happened in Embry one day. I'd love that for him. I'd love to show my mates around. They said they'd all look at their schedules and come up with a time to visit, a week maybe. Thomas or Marcos would probably be in charge of planning that. The five of us wouldn't know how to organize an empty room, let alone a whole transcontinental trip. But I have at least a touch of faith we'll manage to get it done.
So that's where I went today.
I left today.
I said goodbye to my mum and dad at the shop and stopped by Felicia's school to say goodbye.
She was there with all her friends, who'd I come to like. I would take the girls out on my boat in the evenings and row them around like their personal chauffeur while they gossiped and cross-stitched. I'd take them for ice cream, and since they liked hanging out in the evenings, I'd walk them all home. I was happy Feliciana thought I was cool enough to be around her and her friends. It made me happy to take care of them. Although, I think they liked me a bit too much, according to her.
Her friends, named Carmen and Theodora, had a crush on me, she said. It was cute and it was quaint, but after she told me, I made sure to keep my distance. I never understood what the appeal was. My appeal. Maybe it's the blue eyes. When I was in school that was a big one. But now, maybe it was because I'm older and I pay for their treats, and I know how to sew, I don't know. Feliciana said Carmen was 'crazy about my beard'. I'd shave it off if it hadn't taken me almost thirty years to grow. But that wouldn't cut the attention, it just make me look younger and those teenage girls would like me more. I know a few guys that would say it's not a bad thing, but I think quite the opposite. It's flattering to be liked, sure, but kids are kids and that is that.
After kissing my sister goodbye, It really hit me I was leaving. Holding her while she cried was probably the best and worst experience of my damn life. Reminded me of when I held her for the first time as a newborn and my life was changed. I wiped her tears and told her not to worry. I was just a boat ride away.
"A long boat ride," she said.
"Yeah, it's pretty long, but it'll be the best boat ride of your life," I told her.
"Your boat rides in the lake will always be my favorite, Emi."
I damn near broke down.
Carmen and Theodora used my moment of weakness to hug me and give me kisses on my cheeks. I told myself it was time to start being a man. But it's hard when you're leaving your ray of sunshine for who knows how long. I gave her my stopwatch and told her to keep it safe for me until we meet again. I gave her one last kiss on her head and went to have a drink with my mates.
When I got there, they were all waiting for me. I knew I was late, which I hardly ever am. Made me feel bad. I was only supposed to be at Feliciana's school for less than a half-hour but of course, that ran long.
When I walked into Draigh's the blokes had a cake and everything for me! There were a few balloons, blue ones. It really touched my heart.
They each came and gave me a hug and a few pats on the back.
Cole even looked a little sad.
They'd taken off work to come and see me one last time and it meant a lot.
They tried pumping me full of beer, but I told them not too much. I had to be sober enough to get off the train in Hjalle and catch my ship.
Everyone started talking about their lives and I was slowly realizing that wasn't going to include me anymore. That was a tough pill to swallow. Tom and Sisi were trying to get pregnant again, which was wonderful news, but I knew I wasn't going to be here for the shower. The last time we all met up, Cole and Anshelinah were on a break. He said they were back together now. I wondered how many times that was going to happen before the next time I see them. Matias picked up a part-time at the cafe downtown. He said he was saving up for another place, deeper in the city. I won't be able to go grab a tea for Feliciana and bother him. Marcos was discussing visiting Alairton. I was surprised. I guess that bloke he'd been seeing was growing on him. He seems nice enough. I'd have to write to him to find out how it all goes.
They looked at me and asked what my plan was.
"My plan?"
Yes your plan, Emilio. What's your plan?
I thought about it and told them.
"Well... When I get there, I'll hope the key still works and I'll clear the cobwebs. I'll find a mattress in storage, make sure there are no decade-old bedbugs... Then In the morning I'll get my train card from the post office and go to the market to make sure I have something to eat... and I'll work."
I pursed my lips then. I didn't want to leave all my good friends behind. They had a feeling I was getting emotional, so they roped me in for a few more hugs. We stayed for hours there, talking and laughing and carrying on. It was one of the best tavern stints we'd ever had.
I gave all of them one last hug and kiss and told them to say goodbye to the girls for me. Anshelinah was busy and couldn't make it, and Sisi was tied up with Iris at home. Thomas almost forgot that Salice had made me some scones for my trip. They were wrapped in beautiful brown paper and tied up with twine. They smelled heavenly, blueberry. I told Thomas to thank her for me, and I slipped them into my bag knowing they were going to singlehandedly both cure and make worse my homesickness in the next few days that I'm traveling.
Thomas gave me one last hug and kiss on the head.
"Isabella should be home," he said to me.
I nodded. It was my desire to visit her before I left but I didn't know if that'd be appropriate. There were some things I'd wanted to tell her for a while, but we haven't talked really in weeks. I've seen her at the market a few times, but we were both too busy to talk. I was regretting not making the time to chat with her, since those opportunities were running out and I didn't even know it. I'm sure Thomas had already told her about my moving to Embry, but maybe not the details. He was probably expecting me to have told her already. She was, after all, my close friend.
A close friend who'd never gotten close enough.
"I'll stop by and bid my farewell to her."
Thomas nodded and clapped me on the shoulder. That bastard's gotten strong since he'd been married. It's all the building and eating he's been doing. Looks good on him.
"Nos vemos, Emilio."
I nodded and tried not to speak so the tears wouldn't catch in my throat. How sentimental I am, it's embarrassing.
And after that, I was on my way. Isabella's place was on my way out of town, so it wasn't any trouble to stop. Like hell, I would've stopped by her house even if it was all the way on the other side of the country.
The walk through the forest was long. I felt bare. I'd usually have my trolley with me with my boat attached, or I'd have my basket with things from the market, but now I just had my suitcase. I decided to travel light. My mum said she'd send the rest of my things later if I wanted them, but 'for a smooth journey, your bag should not weight you down'.
My bag wasn't the thing weighing me down.
My feet felt heavy when I took those few steps onto her front patio. There were plants all over the place, marigolds, and the like. It made me feel like I was in a fairytale. Who am I kidding, anything that woman touches turns into a fairytale.
I knocked on the door.
When I opened it, I regret coming.
Her hair fell over her small shoulders like ivy vines. Her cheeks were red and I could tell she'd been singing or smiling or laughing. Her lashes looked like the palm leaves of a faraway island I'd only been to once in a dream.
"Emi?"
My heart always seizes up when she calls me that sweet name.
"Bella... hey."
The way her chocolate eyes just lit up when she saw me. Her smile grew like a beanstalk, and she tucked some hair behind her ear. Her silver earrings glimmered in the evening light.
The way she grinned when she saw me, it almost made me hopeful, of what I couldn't decide.
She spoke when she found the words. Thank goodness she found them because I wouldn't have. As many of them as I'm supposed to have.
"Emi... It's been quite some time... I'm sorry I didn't stop by The Post these past weeks, I've been busy with work and stuff... hey, come in, come in."
When she ushered me in, I saw her in full. Her crochet cardigan moved just so that I saw her top pulled taught over her growing belly.
I don't know which emotion I felt just then. There are too many to count and when they all decide to marry in my mind I'm just left confused. But the one that stood out the most was joy.
"No, don't apologize. It's quite alright..."
I looked at her stomach again.
"You have been busy..."
I followed her into her quaint home, shutting the door behind me. It'd been a while since I'd been inside. The rug was new for sure. It was a beautiful textile, like a lamb who'd rolled in a meadow and flowers were stuck to her wool. The walls were covered in art. Her husband's, I presumed. He was a talented artist, I'd known that much. He'd been working on the mural outside the primary school. Wasn't quite done yet. I reckoned I wouldn't be here to see it finished.
She looked back at me, then at her stomach as if surprised to see what was there. Her snort and little sheepish look was one I'd gotten well acquainted with.
"Ah, well... Married life. You'll understand how that is," she said, fiddling with her hair. I had always liked the way it curled at the ends.
I nodded in understanding because if I was married, I'd want the same exact thing.
"I hope one day I will," I said. Was it wrong to admire her the way I was?
"I'm sure you will. You'll find a lovely girl, and I better receive a wedding invitation!"
She shook her dainty finger at me. The one I'd bandaged so many times from those pesky sewing pricks.
"You'll get one for sure, no doubt about that. You, Shuhei, and your little bun in the oven there."
I managed a half smile, even though I felt like I'd been run through with the bow of a ship.
Her laugh sounded like wind chimes, and she looked at me with those big brown eyes, Those were my friend's eyes. Eyes I'd found so much comfort and strength in. The eyes I'd seen cry. Eyes I know are so rosily enchanted by someone else.
"Oh, Emi. We'd be so happy to come to your wedding, I mean you were here for ours! And not to mention you got us such a wonderful gift. Shu uses that typewriter often, you know..."
I wrung my hands together, surprised the sweat didn't drip down into a puddle on the floor. I could barely focus on what she was saying. It was like I was underwater. I was really leaving one of my best friends. To think the only way I'd be able to hear her ramble on like this would be in the form of a staticky phone call.
"Yeah, hey listen, I..."
I didn't know where to begin.
"I didn't want to take up too much of your evening, lass, but I'm..."
I could hardly say the words.
"I'm going back to Embry for work, back to Quinton to be head of the school newsletter... And it looks like a permanent move...So I wanted to come and say good-"
And just like that she was against my chest, hugging me as tight as she could without smothering that baby of hers.
I hugged her back, and I admit I selfishly indulged in the way she felt in my arms.
I'm a weak man in no other way but this one.
"I know... Thomas told me. You'll do great there, Emi."
She let go of me and took a step back to look at me in full. I'd gotten a lot taller since the first time she hugged me like that. Somehow it still felt like the first time.
"I'm sure of it. With your talent as a writer, it'll be perfect for you."
She smiled at me, the light balm on her romantic pink lips glossy in the candlelight. Her radiant face was glowing like the setting sun outside.
"You want something to drink," she asked me?
I shook my head but it was just like her to insist. Maybe it would be a good idea to wash down the lump in my throat.
She disappeared around the corner to her kitchen, and I could see the pink icebox from where I was standing. It was covered in those flashy photographs from that fancy camera Thomas came up with. A few small artworks were there alongside them. Iris must have done them. I couldn't think of anyone else more skilled in drawing unicorns with purple crayons.
"I know The Post will miss you, Emi," she called from the kitchen.
"I'll miss them just as much, you know. I'll write them letters every now and again. Thank heavens we've got a telephone up there finally."
I wandered around her living room while taking care not to stare too hard at anything. I felt like I was making small, slapdash conversation. I wanted to kick myself. I was too wired to enjoy the last conversation I'd get to have with Isabella for a long while.
"I'll call your pig-headed brother and tell him to clock out and go home at night. The bloke is a workaholic if I've ever met one."
When she came around that corner with that small mug in her hand, I froze. I had decided it was now or never. If I didn't say what I came to say, my feelings would eat me from the inside like a ravenous eclipse of restless moths. I'd end up like an old overcoat with holes all throughout. At least that's what I felt like.
"Say, Bella... I wanted to... I wanted to tell you somethin'."
I did all I could not to stammer.
She put the mug in my hands, warmth seeping into them the way the great green goddess let her life soak into the soil of the world. It would be dramatic to compare Isabella to that goddess... but I find myself doing that from time to time.
She looked at me once more, lowering my defenses like she'd written the art of war. I kept hoping those eyes would reflect something, anything, that would let me know I wasn't swimming upstream in this whitewater life of mine. Just honey... and no peonies.
"What's up? Tell me."
I cleared my throat, that tea in my hands all but forgotten about.
"You remember a few days after your seventeenth birthday? I asked you to the cinema theater to see Castle of Alabaster..."
She lit up like a firework.
"Oh! Yes, of course, I remember it. Oh gods, that was such a good film. I had so much fun that time."
She was so animated when she talked. Like a gorgeous marionette who found the garden shears and clipped all her strings in a grand gesture in order to express herself how she's always wanted.
I nodded slowly.
"I'm happy that's a fond memory for you. I had a lot of fun too. About that thought, I wanted to tell you something then, but I suppose I'm a few years late..."
Her eyebrows raised. I had a feeling she wasn't going to let me get off easy with a half-assed confession. She was right for that, even if it was unintentional. It warmed my heart that I was going to have to spell this out for her.
"I've loved you a long time, Isabella."
There was a moment of silence where I was confined in the warm embrace of her rabbit-like gaze. I had to tell her the rest.
"I'm so happy that you're happy now, and I don't want to change the way your life turned out. Everything is how it should be, I just- couldn't take that secret back to Embry with me."
"Oh, well of course I love you t-"
And I watched as her mirthful smile metamorphosized into a calm one as everything I was saying finally made sense. It was like watching a morning glory bloom before the dawn.
"Oh... I see."
And when she touched my face, I felt something break inside me.
"You deserve a great love story, Emi. I hope you find it wherever you go, whether it's Embry or somewhere else."
Her words washed over me like a reluctant baptism. It was one I didn't want but needed. I let my eyes close as her dainty fingers knitted themselves in the thick hair by my ears. Her thumb was gliding over my cheek softly, coaxing tears from my eyes. Her palm was warm like a nymph's touch.
I didn't want to cry in front of her. Not about this.
I grabbed her wrist gently. It was as dwarfed, as a feeble branch would be in the hand of a giant. Her hand was a conduit for the intimacy I'd been longing for years. I could feel it spread across my skin and surge through my veins like manna. Isabella was magic in human form.
I let myself feel that for the first and final time.
I could get well before I leave, right?
"I'm happy you got your love story. I'm happy I could watch it be written. I couldn't have written one better. I'm so glad he makes you happy, Isabella."
She must've heard the wavering in my voice. We both pretended we didn't.
"He does... He truly does. You will make some lucky lady feel the same way, I'm sure of that."
I nodded, letting her magic fill my soul.
"Hey, Emi?"
I opened my eyes and I looked at her.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for telling me. And I'm sorry too."
The back of my eyes felt like a dam.
We stayed like that for a while, listening to the night sounds emerging from the forest. It was battling gravity for my upright place on her carpet, all while trying to cherish her loving touch. When she drew back from my face, I took a sniffle. Her floral scent played against me in a way that was criminal.
I smile, wiping the stray tear that had managed to escape me.
"Gracias... por todo." I said.
"No, Emi... Gracias a vos por haber viendo a despedirte."
A sob came out and I cloaked it with a chuckle. I remember the goodbye gift I had for her. Pinching my nose, I looked around for my bag.
"Oh, just something for you and your family before I leave."
I rustle around in the leather, past Sisi's scones, past my extra shirts, past my notebooks, past my sister's homemade blanket, until I got to the paper bag. I hand it to her.
"Oh, can I open it now?"
She was so whimsical and soft that I couldn't help but smile when she took the bag into her hands. Her jewelry made twinkling noises as her hands eagerly danced, waiting to unwrap the gift.
"Don't wait on my account, go ahead."
She revealed everything that I'd put in there for her. There were a few Embrish coins I'd kept from when I was a kid. I decided they'd just get mixed up in the ones I'd end up with later. Those special ones could keep their value with her. I had gotten a round paintbrush imported for her husband's artwork. He came from a place that made arguably the best paintbrushes in the world. Only two or three countries could produce something holding a candle to those. Luckily, Embry is one of them. I'd had his name engraved on the side next to the company name. I hope he'll be pleased with it. I'll never know if Isabella doesn't write me.
Her face lit up and she gasped. I could tell she'd gotten to her personal gift.
It was a small sewing kit, imported from Embry. The upholstery on the casing was intricate pink floral, inside was dark velvet. It sported four needles, four spools of thread, a dozen pins, a seam ripper, a measuring tape, a thimble, and a pin cushion. I'd made sure both the inside of that case and the pin cushion had her name in gold stitching.
Isabella.
"These gifts are so beautiful, Emi. Thank you so much. I wish I'd gotten something as a farewell gift for you!"
I just shake my head and smile.
"Seeing your face before I go was all I wanted."
She freezes and for the first time, I think she understood really how much I love her. All the things I've done for her and because of her, even things she'd never know about... all because she's the most beautiful soul ever created. I couldn't believe I'd had the great pleasure of meeting her at all. For that alone, I am so grateful for that. Not to mention the years of beautiful friendship.
"Oh, don't say that. You'll make me blush. Here, take this... I've had it since forever. Now it's yours."
She unclasped a bracelet made of Vesuvian silver off her delicate wrist and placed it in my hands. It had a single rose quartz charm dangling from the links. I immediately recognized that stone as one that represented love.
"For you to find your person... That crystal will help. It helped me."
I wished I'd gotten lost in a rose quartz mine years ago.
"I'll take your word for it, Bella. Thank you."
I hold it in my hand tightly before slipping it into my coat pocket.
"I've got a train to catch, but thank you for seeing me, Bella. Tell Shu I said goodbye."
I thought about my parting words.
"And tell him I said thank you, for taking such good care of everything here."
For taking such good care of her.
Isabella nods seriously, a sad smile on her face.
"I will tell him. Have a good trip, Emi. Good luck in everything."
She walked me to the door and as she did, I eyed that mug on her coffee table. She'd wash that mug after I left, maybe even tomorrow if I know her as well as I'd like to think, and it would be like I was never here. No, she had the gifts... She'd have the gifts.
She wrapped her arms around me again on the porch as if closing the ritualistic cycle. I hugged her tight, smoothing the cowlick of hair on her head.
And just like, she kissed my cheek to say our final goodbye.
"Bye, Emi."
I smiled and did the same.
"Bye, Bella."
Giving my last looks, I glance down at her belly.
"Don't give her too much trouble," I said to it. I remember all the conversations I'd had with my unborn sister. I'd like to think she remembers at least one of them.
That made Isabella happy.
"Oh, they do already, making me eat like crazy. I'm excited to see what else they have in store for me."
I admired the way she glowed, how she's matured. I was finding that I wasn't seeing that girl I'd seen in the market at eleven or twelve years old and told my mom right next to me that I was going to marry her. It was the easiest to see her as she was now, a lively and creative young woman, a cherished friend, a mother-to-be, and a wife to someone who wasn't me.
I loved her in every part of her life, and as she changes, and I change, as does this love.
"Write me, I want to hear all about them."
Isabella Kumagai waved to me and called to me as I walked off her doorstep.
"I will, Emi!"
So that was that.
The trees were black against the orange sky, and the country road ahead leading me out of town was paved with bittersweet feelings. I steeped in them as I walked along. Before I got too far, I looked back.
The windchimes that dangled off the front patio rafters played a sweet song. The rocking chair breathed quietly. The sea of lilacs in the yard stretched left, the right as the wind guided them in a ceremonious dance. Those were her favorite flowers. They'd been her favorite since I can remember. It was so like her to have them surrounding her life like they were protections around a sanctuary.
I looked at the living room window. It was bright enough to still see inside. I looked at all of those things that couldn't have possibly belonged to Isabella. That haori hanging on the back of the sofa, those swords on the mantle, the small stone fountain on the kitchen windowsill, the size fifteen Chelsea boots by the front door... all these things that belonged to her husband...
Maybe in another life, they could've been my things.
But in this life, my things were in my hand.
Because I was off to start a new one.
Closure is a myth, but acceptance was what I'd done this for.
I pulled out that bracelet and I looked at it for a good long while. I'd be more thankful for this bracelet than I'd like to admit. Isabella probably didn't remember, but she'd given me trinkets like this before. Protection charms, cloth squares, and a flower pressing or two. All of them were in my bag.
What kind of lovestruck lunatic am I?
---
Emilio put his pen down and looked out the window of his train. The dark night sky was a midnight tapestry made of threads of hope. The trees gave way to the rolling hills, then to the meadows and mountains beyond. The train he was on, with its cushy seats and elegant sconce lamps, was in better shape than he. It was moving faster than he could comprehend, hurrying to leave this place behind. If only he was as eager and wanting to arrive in his new place, full of new faces and paces.
He looked down at his notebook, the wrinkly pages filled up with his still-wet recountings of the longest day in history. He wanted to close his eyes and pretend leaving was a dream like he'd wake up tomorrow in his parents' house with a long list of things he'd need to do for the people in his life. Instead when he'd go to sleep, he'd wake up with a shorter list of things, he'd only have to do for himself. What a new feeling, being driven by your own needs for once. Emilio was scared of the change, but it would be nice to see what that would be like.
He couldn't close his eyes yet. His question remained unanswered.
"What kind of lovestruck lunatic am I?"
He thought about it a while.
He thought about how saying goodbye to one woman was like saying goodbye to a whole entire country and the entire life he'd lived while he was there.
Like Isabella and Maeth were made of the same syllables. Cut from the same cloth. He was both a writer and a tailor yet somehow he still couldn't understand. Even when he put it into those words exactly.
He thought about it so long a porter came to ask if he wanted a meal.
"Yes, if you wouldn't mind."
While he waited, his sweet tooth ate at him. He decided it'd be a good time to see what beautiful work Salice had done. He unwrapped that brown paper and an aroma like home embraced Emilio. How lucky Thomas was to find a wife so inventive and kind, able to work such magic that her love could be substantiated in a way that so nearly sewed together a broken heart.
The blueberry scones were here, just like Thomas said. Tucked beside them, to Emilio's surprise, were a few Alfajor cookies.
Emilio realized.
It might be years before he'd have another Alfajor. A real, authentic, Maethisse one anyway. That was hard to swallow.
As he nibbled on the corner of a scone, Emilio savored the taste. He was finding lavender, blueberry, honey and so many other flavors the more he thought about it. He spent a long time on this train ride thinking.
What kind of lovestruck lunatic am I?
He picked up his pen.
I'm the kind of lovestruck lunatic who's going to need a lot of practice seeing life in a color, any color, other than lilac.
"Do you know how many secrets a library holds? This is the only place the whole world could possibly fit between four walls. I could be lost in this library for a million years, yet here I'd be sure to find millions more."
Biographies:
Salice Halloway
Shuhei Kumagai
Anshelinah Circe
Emilio Taylor
Fiction:
Featuring: Salice
This Is Maeth?
Peacock Feathers
Scared You Had Gone
He Loves You
A Man Worth Saving
Telephone
Stupid Laundry
Wishing Well Heart
Everything They Became
Featuring: Shuhei
Charcoal Drawing
A Special Friend
A Song In Our Home
Remedy
Are You Happy?
You Have To Come Back
« Psst: Three things that they’ve always wanted to tell your character. » with whoever u want!
AHAHA OKAY SOOOOOOOOOOO WE’RE DOING YUMI AND SISI!
Yumi > Charlie
“The way your nose twitches when you get upset makes me want to kiss it.”
"You make me forget all the bad things I’ve done. You make me feel like I’m worth something... even if I can’t admit it to you.”
“I give you your space, but in reality, I want to be with you every second of every day.”
Sisi > Daniel
“You remind me a little of my dad... the way you drink your weight in liquor and you can’t feel a thing. It makes me happy and sad that you remind me of each other. Like a part of him is always going to be with me.”
“I really like when you let your stubble grow out and it tickles my face when we cuddle!”
“I have trouble sleeping when I’m not with you. I can never sleep when you’re away. It’s because you protect me. You make me feel the safest. ”
He was going back to a place he'd hoped he would never see again. He was tired of this town. He was tired of the people in it. The people who didn't love him or care about him or want him to succeed. He was tired of the busted-ass neighborhood and the run-down part of the city that he had grown up in. He was tired of the constant reminders that he was a little too old to change his ways, but young enough to be set in them for a long ass time. He was so tired. But one thing that did always drag him back to this town... his girl.
Charlie was sitting in her driveway. Her red hair was wild down her back. It was more like magic than hair. That's how Yumi saw it, anyways.
The sun shone on her face, casting long shadows on the asphalt. Her sharp chin was wet. The tears off her profile were like water dripping off the terracotta shingles of a gorgeous house. He sighed as he neared her.
"You okay, kid?"
Charlie looked up, surprised to see Yumi anywhere near this place. She thought she'd never see him again... not after that time Daniel nearly killed him.
"Yumi! I- I don't... what are you doing here?" She was struggling to wipe her face with her sweater sleeve.
He shrugged. He was thinking about it the whole time he was driving over. He was here to make her disappear with him.
He couldn't fathom the idea of her turning him down, but he had to keep reminding himself that it was a possibility. She could say no and live in this shitty town for the rest of her beautiful life. That would be Yumi's worst nightmare. He couldn't let that happen.
"I came to see you. What else would I be doing here?" He ruffled that lion's mane and looked down at her. She was wearing an oversized band T-shirt. He didn't know their name. The band was probably something new, and she'd probably lent him the CD. He listened to every song probably, not knowing who the band was or anything about them. He just knew she loved them. She he'd try to love them too. That's how it would've gone.
There were beer bottles at her feet. Yumi didn't like that. He would prefer Charlie didn't develop the same treacherous drinking habit as her brother. The same treacherous drinking habit as he, himself, was battling. That drink never did him any good. Lines never did him any good. Nothing ever did him any good, except her. He knelt down and sat beside her, easing down on the ground. It was warmed by the sun. The sun... smiling down on everything like everything was all right. He loved its optimism.
"I actually... had a question to ask you."
Charlie's siren eyes were curious, they were loving, and they were his. Yumi had claimed those eyes in his bedroom a few months ago. He remembered every second of that. He cherished every moment. He owned those eyes. He had the overwhelming desire to keep them bright.
"What is it? What's up?"
Charlie had missed Yumi. She couldn't blame him for leaving. He'd risked his life just being in the city. She wished she was exaggerating, but after the fallout with Daniel, nothing was the same. So he had packed his stuff, closed down his antique shop, sold all his spare cars, and left. She didn't know where he moved to, but that was probably best. She figured Yumi didn't tell her on purpose. She figured right. He didn't want Daniel wringing that sacred piece of information out of his sister in one of his drunken fits. Her brother was becoming more than she could handle, Yumi saw it on her face every day.
Yumi was brave for coming back. Whatever he had to ask her must've been really important. That's what went through Charlie's mind as she looked at him.
"I... need to ask you..."
When Yumi gazed into Charlie's eyes, he saw every good thing about the world he's yet to discover. He saw every smile he'd ever smile and every laugh he'd ever laugh. He saw happy tears and wild screams of excitement and blinking eyes of disbelief. He saw his future. The only future he'd ever want to live. He held his breath.
"Do you want to get outta here?"
Charlie had a feeling he didn't mean what she thought she meant.
She solemn expression on his pointed features was enough to let her know this was it. This is what she'd been weighing on the scales in her head for months. He wasn't talking about going to get a burger, or going on a trip to the lake for the weekend. He was asking her to leave this town forever, as she should have a long time ago.
"Yumi... I- There's so much I have to-"
She looked into those silvery-blue eyes. Those sharp, narrow eyes that had seen too much bad and not enough good. She watched as they begged her, filling slowly with water like a clogged gutter. Yumi had prepared himself for those excuses. They were he excuses she told him every time he mentioned moving away.
"No... you gotta answer me. Do you wanna get outta here? Do you want that?"
Charlie's throat was a rose. Closed and wilted and thorny. She couldn't risk saying anything because she felt the tears coming. She reached to grab Yumi's hand. His cold, veiny hand, the one covered in scars and expensive jewelry he'd stolen.
"I can't leave Dan. And what about Sisi-"
Yumi's fear and rage were mixing like wind and rain, creating a storm that ripped at Charlie's foundations. The storm wouldn't pass without taking this house. The house Yumi had banked everything on becoming a home.
"I don't give a fuck about Dan! Salice can take care of herself, it'll be hard, yeah, but don't you want to live? She's here because she chose to be. You're here because you have nowhere else to go! Now you do, you have somewhere. I made that somewhere. Come on, Charlie! We wanted this!"
Yumi's voice cracked like the pavement.
"It wasn't just pillow talk, Charlie. I meant every word I said. I wanted a life for us, for you! I moved near the university! You can go to school. I'll pay for it. I don't care what I gotta do, but I'm not gonna let you throw all that away... You won't throw it away for anybody else. The only way you can stay here will be because you don't want to come and be happy."
A soft whimper escaped her lips. Yumi had seen right through every puff of smoke and every mirror she could have possibly come up with. And the truth, the hard truth? Charlie wanted to be happy. At this point, she was willing to try anything to achieve that. Yumi was convincing her of things she already knew and believed. He was the preacher and she was the entire choir.
Yumi grabbed her hands hard. Those little hands that played bass and made braids. Those little hands that had helped him fix cars and make breakfast and count drug money. He loved the hell out of those little hands and would do anything to make sure they stayed delicate and soft.
"Tell me you don't want to come with me. Tell me that and I'll leave you alone."
Charlie couldn't turn this down. This was her shot. He was her happiness. Her Romeo. He was the kamikaze that would go up in flames for her. How could she possibly tell him she didn't love him? How could she lie like that? How could he possibly think that she didn't feel the same way about him as he felt about her? The answer was clear now.
"I want to come with you, Yumi."
Yumi waited a moment, processing everything that happened in the moments that felt like years. He couldn't hold back his sobs. He was nodding, hand smearing gritty asphalt onto his tear-streaked face. His shoulders relaxed for the first time in years and his body felt fifteen pounds lighter. The way he cried made Charlie cry too.
They were finally getting out of this town.
Just like he promised.
"Go get your stuff. I'll help you put it in my car. Everything you can grab. We're not coming back here."
Charlie nods and struggles to stand, still holding Yumi's hands. Just a split second goes by, but that's all they needed. In that second they shared a look that spoke volumes. They knew that this was the first step.
Forty-nine minutes later, they were on their way.
Charlie and Yumi had figured out that summer evening that happiness was what you wanted it to be. It could be anything. It could be sitting in the passenger seat with your feet on the dash drinking a cherry slushee. It could be four missed calls from your brother. It could be rock music and the windows down and laughing because you finally know what it's like to feel a world without gravity.
It could be skipping town in a '98 Camaro, everything you own in the backseat, driving into the sunset on your way to a better life.
Hyde holstered up his pistol at the shelf in the foyer of his family’s house before taking his keys and heading out. The horses needed feeding and they were nearly out of hay. Been a while since it had gotten so low on stock anyway. He needed to go into the better part of town to get more. As much as they did on this farm, they didn’t bale their own hay.
The cowboy swung his keys on his finger while he trudged out into the November weather. It was cool, the wind trying to nip right through the denim of his jacket. The wool inside didn’t let it. His boots crunched the stiff, yellow grass underfoot. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he looked up at the silvery sky. Novembers in the valley got cold and lonely, that’s for sure. Not too many birds around singing, not too many butterflies like there were in the summer. November changed all the rich, red dirt to dull, copper dust. All the green flowering trees and bushes turned to scraggly limbs and squat tumbleweeds. November was sure enough different, but they were pretty in their own way. At least that’s what he thought.
Hyde could see the beauty in just about anything.
Hyde’s old pickup rattled to a start when he turned the key in the rusty ignition. It’d been a while since he had started this thing. It was the last time he went hauling anything, maybe in the early week of September. He remembered he had to get mulch for the garden. His sister had wanted it anyway. He thought about that time, all three of them lining their garden with pretty red mulch. His sister’s pale freckles got sunburnt that day. She looked as red as that mulch.
When Hyde stepped out of his truck in the barren drive up to his neighbor’s place, he saw someone else standing talking to him at the fence. Olius had never been one for talking, but every now and again, he’d listen. If someone had something important to say, that is. Hyde and Olius were alike that way. Men of little words and of great esteem with who to speak them to.
The world was a vacuum. The wide-open air drowned out any noise before it got too far. The crunching of the clay dirt underfoot, the jingling of the keys on his hip, breaths so deep and warm it looked like Hyde was blowing out the smoke of a cigarette. Everything was lost, swept up in the open range and wild country of Murik Valley. Hyde liked that quiet. That’s what he called peace.
That peace and quiet… it was good for a man like him. He wasn’t hard to please. He could live in this world and all its particularness as long as he could have that peace and quiet.
What he didn’t know is that the man in his neighbors yard was the source of his father’s worry and grief. Grief he didn’t know about yet. Grief that didn’t find him yet.
“Well, well, ain’t it a sight for sore eyes. Been a while since you been up here, boy! Keep on getting’ taller, look just like that daddy of yours!”
Hyde shrugs. It was true. At seventeen, Hyde was bigger and more ‘fatherlike’ than he’d ever been. His hair, which he kept in locs, was getting longer still. That was pretty much the only distinguishing factor he could say set him apart from his father, who sported a shaved head, clean.
His father, the mortuary worker for the whole town, was good friends with Olius. He buried so many of his family free of charge, you wouldn’t understand how he couldn’t be.
“Yes sir. Got any spare bales for me? I done called Zack, but his yield’s been low. Can’t afford to spare anything before the winter.”
The third man, the man Hyde noticed talking to the old farmer, was standing nearby along the fence. He was clad in a dark jacket, leather. He had freckles, head to toe it seemed like. Almost looked like vitiligo, how his freckles was a milky white compared to the dark umber of his skin. He wore some dark washed jeans and black snakeskin boots. Dark sunglasses obscured his gaze, but he was definitely looking at Hyde. Hyde sized him up right back as he waited for Olius to think of his next piece.
Something about this man had seemed so familiar. Not just his freckles, but his aura. Hyde could’ve sworn he had seen him somewhere here before. Somrald, the Valley’s most beautiful gem, was a small enough one that everybody knew everybody. If you didn’t, well you had some catching up to do. There just wasn’t right about him. Hyde would’ve let it go if that man didn’t say anything to him before he left. He was about to get in his truck and take all that baled hay loaded up in the back, and that man wasn’t gonna say a single world to him…
But he did.
“Tell, that sister of yours to keep up with her riding. She’s gettin’ pretty good. Just like that doll Monica.”
That would’ve been fine but…
Last time he checked, his mother didn’t ride horses.
Sleet pattered against the wide window of the sterile hospital room. The white snowscape had somehow infected the inside. It made everything far less colorful, so much more bleak. The crystal hospital floors seemed like an unmoving white ocean that didn't ripple or waver no matter if you walked, ran, or jumped on them. The walls seemed like a hedge, forty feet tall and designed to keep you in a greyscale limbo. This hospital is where Salice had been locked away for three weeks.
Daniel walked up and down these halls so many times, there was not a single in or out, nook or cranny, he didn't know about. All he could do was pace. When he wasn't at Salice's side, he was pacing. When he wasn't grappling with the two or three hours of sleep god would let him have every now and again, he was pacing. Walking this spotless maze, trapping him in this terrible reality that he was in.
Today was no different.
He paced.
He had been doing that for an hour or so. He had brought Salice some flowers at about 8 o’clock in the morning. He knew that’s when she started her days on her own, so he thought 8 o’clock was good enough for him to start too. He had been obsessing over the smallest details of Salice’s life that he didn’t even know mattered to him until now. The textures of blankets she might prefer, what hair products affected her curls in what way, the Feng Shui she always mentioned, which Daniel had no idea what she was talking about… But today he moved that vase of hibiscus flowers he brought to the coffee table in her room instead of the nightstand because he could hear her sweet voice saying something about the flow of the room being disrupted. He didn’t know he cared about Feng Shui. He didn’t know that he actually did.
He just cared about Salice.
These three weeks were the hardest he’d ever endured since the death of his mother. The loneliness. The uncertainty. The hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach that drink, nor substance could fill. It was all too much for Daniel. But every time he thought about how much he was hurting, he thought about how that could be amplified for her. For Salice.
Days upon days, she’s wasted here. She hadn’t been awake since it happened. Or so they think. If she had opened her eyes for even a second, they would have induced her. Or so they said. Daniel didn’t know what to believe anymore. One day he was worrying about if she would come through for dinner, the next he was wondering if she would pull through until the end of the day. It was madness. Daniel waited for that wretched machine to suddenly stop. The machine that announced to the world with every painstaking toll of its automated bell that Salice was still barely alive… to stop. He tried to stay positive, that’s what everyone wanted him to do. That’s what he wanted to do… but the pessimism was slowly pickling his brain. Every hopeful thought had become a reach in the dark future that Daniel couldn’t tell existed. Every optimistic outlook was more like the punch line to the sick, twisted tricks Daniel’s mind was playing on him. Nothing good seemed real and everything bad seemed undefeatable. Salice was the only thing good to Daniel right now. And every day he was terrified that she would become one of those good things that turned to make-believe. She was on her way, hanging between tangible and celestial. Daniel had prayed every night, to everything out there that they would not take her yet. Let her stay, He would beg. Stay here in this miserable world so that something as small as her smile could fix everything.
He just wanted to see her smile.
As he wandered down these emotionless halls he wondered regretfully, what her last waking moments were. A strange threat appearing to her, in a place she thought she was safe. The terror and confusion that put their massive claws over her eyes so she could not see. Over her ears so she could not hear. They let her scream until they only allowed her to feel. Feel the life leaving her body. Seeping down into the expensive rug of the castle where she was the princess and there was not a single knight to protect her from the dragon. Feel until whatever she felt was just a memory. That’s what they said. If she woke up, she wouldn’t feel her legs. Who knew what she was feeling now, how much suffering she must be trapped with. Maybe these three weeks she would feel every nerve so clearly that the pain would never leave her thoughts. It would be her fill before the rest of her life was full of numbness and nothing.
She’ll be paralyzed from the waist down if she awakes…
How horrifying that was to hear. It wasn’t the part about her paralysis that made Daniel nauseous. It was the uncertainty of her waking up.
The if.
He hesitated at the door to her room. He didn’t know if he was ready this time. Every single time he set his two feet at this door, he didn’t know if his soul had the strength to carry his body inside. How shameful that was to feel… when the woman he cherished more than anything had to muster all the strength she could ever imagine, using it to battle every day for the slightest opportunity to open her eyes.
Daniel breathed.
And he entered.
He had to prepare himself every time for what he would find.
It was mostly the same. Her body getting weaker, smaller than he’d ever seen her, even when they were kids. Her wrists getting thinner. Her body, before a strong temple seeped in sunlight for Daniel to worship, was now the site of a crusade. All of the proof of the battle for her life could be seen here on this body.
But today there was something a bit different.
Those eyes.
They were open.
Daniel blinked once, then twice. Not believing what he saw.
He ran and he pressed the call button on that wretched machine that he’s wanted to crush these past three weeks, but now he wanted to thank for than ever. . His hands could barely hold the remote stead yas he mashed the button for or five times, he can’t remember.
He cupped Salice’s gaunt cheek and helped her turn to face him. Her eyes were open but Daniel knew she was not seeing. She was only feeling now. Feeling her pain and her confusion and her disbelief. Daniel couldn’t stop the tears from his own eyes, but he could wipe the tears from hers. He didn’t know what to say. So many emotions crossed his mind, his heart, his soul. The only one he could single out was a special kind of emotion that let out all the air in his lungs so he felt that he could breathe from scratch. This was the first full breath he had taken in weeks. He watched as Salice took her own conscious breath. It was shallow, but it was something all her own.
Daniel barely spoke her name. It came out as a small whisper.
“Salice… Salice. I’m here… I’m here, it’s okay.”
Salice’s mind was a whirlwind of thought, but the storm was not moving fast. She felt an agonizing ache below her hips, but nothing else beyond that. Her mind was foggy. She felt as if she had been born from something desecrated and incomplete, not meant to be molded. She was brittle and unpolished and raw. But Daniel was here to protect her.
Daniel’s hand in her own felt so familiar. He felt so safe. All she had wanted in these three weeks was a safe place. Where she was, fighting for her life in a void that equated to nowhere, was unknown. But here, in the arms of this man, did she feel known and loved and safe. Tears pricked at her eyes as she searched for something to say, to do, to show that she was here. That she was alive. She tried to speak, but it wasn’t any use. It was going to be her tears for now, rolling down her cheeks like a tidal wave emotion, carrying everything that had been bottled up inside her near-lifeless body for almost a full moon’s passing. Daniel’s hands were here to swipe them from her cheeks. They were here to move her hair from her face as she searched for the words to scream that she felt alone. She felt scared, and adrift and lost. She was so happy to be here, in this world of living breathing things with him.
But as quickly as these hands appeared, these life savers in the infinite ocean of space and time, they were swept away by the waves of doctors come to fret over her. She didn’t know how to get them to stop. They began to take her Daniel away from her, her lighthouse in the dark. She managed to choke out a single word and create some sort of illusion in her mind that she was reaching out for him.
“Please…”
The tears fell harder like rain. She couldn’t say anything else. She didn’t want him to abandon her. He must have known this, sensed this. His face fell like a wall under siege. He grappled at her hand with everything he had as the doctors took him away like a rockslide. His face was the sun. It was bright and full of whatever makes someone want to live.
“I’ll be here! I’ll be here… Wait for me? I’ll be here.”
Salice needed to hear that. In a nightmare realm she did not know if she’d ever wake up from, this is what she needed to hear. He let her know she’s not alone. He’s going nowhere without her.
She weakly nods and watches as his fingers slip away.
She will wait. Wait for when you come back for her. Because she can’t do this without you.
The old warehouse was coming down around them. Flames licked at every corner, debris raining down from the rafters like divine retribution. There's nothing divine about this fight, Charlie thought. She wanted to end this once and for all.
Her feud with the Black Fox.
He came at her again, expertly wielding a katana sword in his gloved hands. Every strike became harder and harder to dodge, the black smoke making her eyes water and her lungs burn.
"Come on... you're holding back."
Charlie took the time to edge him on. She could use a small break. Her words came out in ragged breaths. He wasn't so easily angered, not enough to take the bait. Instead, he stared at her deadly from behind that black kabuki mask. He was usually so much better than this. Every time they fought, Charlie struggled. Even when they were evenly matched in skill, the strength and stamina of the Black Fox always exceeded hers.
Not this time.
Charlie lunged forward, her balaclava long since gone. She tore it off so she could breathe. Pride was going to be the thing that killed her enemy. How could he keep fighting covered head to toe like that? He had to be burning, suffocating. Still, she didn't let up.
Charlie's knives whizzed through the air, her slashes coming nearer and nearer to her enemy. She grunted as she threw the most brutish combinations. She didn't have the time or the energy to be eloquent.
She just wanted him dead.
The Black Fox dodged one of her blows, consequently coming up behind her and pinning her arm to her back. Charlie howled and bashed his shin with the heel of her boot. She could hear his pants through that damned mask. When he wouldn't let her go, Charlie's temper got the best of her.
"Take off that stupid mask and fight me like a man. We don't have that much time, you know."
His hold tightened on her pressure point, making her drop her knife.
"You're floundering."
His voice was cool and calm, but Charlie could hear the fatigue. He was just as exhausted as her.
As the place came down in pieces, part of Charlie wondered if the stupid flash drive they were fighting over was worth it.
What could be so important that two men risk the lives of their children to get it?
"I'm just trying to get out of here," Charlie grumbled.
The Black Fox tightened his grip on Charlie, wrapping one arm around her neck. She watched as a flaming piece of wood crashed down from the ceiling twenty feet in front of them.
"If that were really true," he said. "You'd be gone."
Charlie struggled harder, but soon her strength was gone. She wilted in his hold, dropping her other weapon. It wasn't like her to surrender, but she didn't want to die over her father's childish vendetta with some other petty crime boss. Those men were anything but petty, handling hundreds of thousands of dollars with every job. They laundered even more money every day. The whole thing was just petty to Charlie. She didn't see a point.
"Yeah, whatever. Just give me the drive and I'll go."
The man behind her didn't let go.
"You know I can't do that."
Charlie grit her teeth, watching that hunk of wood burn into nothing. Pretty soon, that would be both of them.
"Then what can you do? Let us both die?"
He sighs, coughing over his shoulder. His fit lasted longer than Charlie would've liked to hear.
"Take that off. You can't breathe."
Charlie couldn't see him fully, not from where she was standing, but maybe he took her advice. The arm around her throat disappeared. It didn't even give Charlie enough time to knock him on his ass because suddenly, she felt a hard push in her back and the scuff of rough concrete on her hands and knees. She was pushed to the ground before she could do the same to him.
She turned with her gun drawn, half expecting him to have his blade to her throat... but she wasn't greeted with a sight so friendly.
Just as Charlie turned to confront her enemy, one of the falling pieces of blazing wreckage crashed on top of him, leaving her speechless.
She sat there on her hands and knees, mouth agape, the reflection of the crackling flame shining in her eyes. A heavy weight settled in the pit of her stomach, keeping her anchored to that very spot until something made her spring into action.
Charlie scrambled to her feet and began kicking at the fiery piece of the ceiling. She didn't know why she was doing this. He was her enemy, her arch enemy even. Every time there was a job to do, he seemed to be there to stop her. She supposed it was the same for him. She was just the pesky girl that got in the way of doing his father's work.
Even if that was the case, she couldn't just leave him. He saved her.
Again and again, charlie kicked at the debris, chunks of it breaking and flying off. Slowly, it turned over, the flames still licking at her boots. Even after it was moved, she couldn't quite make out what it had left behind. After a moment of staring, she realized it was him.
A pile of sooty, splintering ashes and rubble covered the man who had just held her. That kabuki mask was smoldering.
She dropped to her knees and dusted all of that junk from his body.
"Hey! Hey, it's okay, it's fine..."
She struggled to get the cracked mask off his face. It nearly crumbled in her hands when she was finally able to untie it. A young pale face was revealed to her.
She cupped his face in her hands, patting his cheeks to wake him up.
"Come on, come on... wake up!"
Charlie shook him a little harder, willing him to open those eyes she's never seen. She put her two fingers against his throat, waiting for a beat or something.
"We don't have time for this, come on..."
She looked nervously around her, realizing they didn't have much time at all before this whole place came down. She waited for his heartbeat to tap against her fingers... but there was nothing.
He was dead?
He couldn't be.
What kind of sick punch line?
Her arch-enemy of several months just gave his life to save her?
All of these thoughts ran through Charlie's head a mile a minute before she realized she needed to go. She couldn't take him with her so she just grabbed his sword and mask, still hot from the fire.
As she got up to go, she took one last look at him. She hadn't seen his face before this, since he always wore the same damn mask. He was beautiful.
***
When Charlie was outside sitting on the ground, everything finally hit her. Her eyes filled with tears and she couldn't seem to keep back her sniffles. She just kept staring at that sword. It had cut her too many times, her cheek, her arm, her leg. That stupid mask that she had learned to hate. Everything about this was all wrong.
Why had he saved her?
Her burner phone rang. Charlie pinched her nose and tried to even her voice before answering it. It could only be one person.
"Did you get it?"
Charlie forgot about the flash drive. It was honestly the last thing on her mind.
"Considering the building is on fire, and I barely made it out alive, I don't know. What do you think, dad?"
The voice on the other end of the line scoffed before hardening.
"I think I don't pay you to be a smart ass. You're not dead, so just get back here."
Charlie broke the phone in half, cursing and throwing it on the ground. She wipes her face with the back of her hand, streaking black soot all over her skin, standing up.
She hesitates before bending down to pick up the Black Fox's belongings. She realized she'd never know his name. Maybe she'd feel less guilty if she just pretended he didn't have one.
As she leaned over, sword and mask in hand, she heard something clatter onto the concrete. It had fallen out of the front pocket of her vest.
Salice lay on her bed, staring at the canopy. The intricate lace patterns wove through the thick velvet fabric, in flowers and leaves and any other shape Salice could think them into. She hadn't taken off her dress from dinner. The fabric lay heavy on the soft skin of her slow-breathing chest. She glanced at the grandfather clock against the stone wall of her room. It had just passed midnight. She had been in here since late evening. She'd wait until dawn if she had to.
The beams of moonlight passed over the floor of her chambers, from one end to the other, illuminating the rug Salice had taken years to make. It was grand, a feat she was proud of. How funny she thought that rug did not belong on the floor. Her mother said rugs are for the floor, and so that's where it had stayed. Salice always thought one should treat the worth of something's quality and its purpose. Any one thing could have many purposes, but its quality was set. No matter if that quality was high or low, it should be treated accordingly.
Her rug belonged on the wall.
___
The tapestries and portraits along the stone walls passed Daniel by like the blur of trees on horseback as he stalked down the hall to the left wing of the castle. He couldn't focus on any one thing more than the red he had been seeing for a half hour. He clenched and unclenched his fists in an attempt to calm his nerves. He cannot remember the last time he was so angry, angry enough to have no other process of thought than ripping a man apart limb from limb. He was not just any man, but the man that threatened the woman of Daniel's heart and bed.
Daniel remembered the audience required of him just a short hour ago. He had to meet with the King of Illis, his Queen, and King Germaine Steppenwolfe.
They explained to Daniel things that he already knew. When the princess was married, his knightly services were no longer needed. He knew that.
Daniel knew that the whole point of this losing job was to protect the princess: the daughter of some ignorant fool that was going to marry his own child to an old, decrepit geezer twice his own age, which was Daniel's age four times over. That was King Aric's half-assed try to gain some power, and Daniel disapproved greatly.
Despite his great disapproval, which didn't matter much in light of his current employment situation, Daniel sat quietly and respectfully as those three told him his options. He could stay as a guest of the King's court, or Daniel could depart in search of another kingdom to serve.
He would be free to do both, but he desired neither. He wanted to marry his princess. Salice was the only thing he wanted.
The same part of that audience echoed in Daniel's mind, refusing to disappear. All he could think about was how that nasty pervert had put his hand on Daniel's shoulder, smiling because he knew he had won over him. He leaned in and whispered that he would take good care of Salice. Daniel had regretfully imagined all the ways that man planned on fulfilling that prophecy. He regretfully imagined how often King Steppenwolfe himself had thought about his princess. The conclusions he came to made his blood boil.
Daniel tried to keep the urge to murder Steppenwolfe concealed in his dark mind until he could be allowed to properly immerse himself in the fantasy; it didn't matter if he was sober or drunk as long as he was in Salice's bed. He wanted nothing but her hands on his skin and that sweet voice comforting him.
___
Salice roused at the sound of footsteps sounding down her corridor. They were loud, either purposeful or angry. She couldn't tell. She just waited and stared at the kingwood door until the iron lock rattled as a key was being put inside. She smiles, turning over on her side, and waits for it to open.
In comes her knight, but she notices right away that there's something amiss. His hair is disheveled as if he had run his hands through it too many times. He's not standing tall, and there's no smile on his lips. That's enough to make the princess worry.
His expression softens when he sees her. He takes a few steps closer after locking the heavy door, bolting it shut. He looks her up and down before speaking in his deep voice.
"Still in your dress, love?"
Salice's stomach knows that when this man is around, it won't have any rest. It churns in the most pleasant way when he speaks, making her blush and turn away.
"I thought you might want to relieve me of it...I waited for you."
Daniel feels the same excitement, and warmth starts to creep into his face and core. How he loved this woman. Desired her.
"Come here," he says softly.
Salice obeys.
She gathers the long train of her evening gown and steps in front of her knight. Daniel's hands carefully find the bunched fabric at the dip of Salice's waist. His fingers glide over the expensive fabric of that dress. He always appreciated her fine clothes when they graced her form. He loved admiring this woman in her regality... he loved, even more, these fine clothes when they ended in a heap on the floor.
One by one, he relieves the fastenings, exposing the softness of Salice's back. The black shapes painted down her spine never ceased to amaze him. The wonder of such magic he could never understand stared him in the face as he undressed his princess. These symbols he had studied so many times as she lay on her stomach, covers half draped over her, sleeping soundly after they made love.
He would trace those shapes, wondering what kind of power they contained. Daniel knew this tattoo protected his princess more dutifully than he did.
He ached to know that he was faced with his better, something that made him feel even more helpless against the vile man that could take her away from him.
Salice had felt him pause. She looks over her shoulder to survey him. Daniel's brows were set in a thick line, a thoughtful one. She knew his mind was somewhere else. She knew the place in which it resides is tumultuous.
"Is there something there you have not seen before? Something that displeases you?"
Daniel looks up at his princess. The dress had already begun slipping down her skin, exposing those parts he's both kissed and grabbed. Those slight shoulders of hers, those supple breasts. Salice held the fabric to her chest so that she could stop his mind from wandering any further away from her. Her body was his; she promised it to him. This was true, but they also shared one heart and mind. Salice was to be damned if he would live in such misery without her to help ease it... or suffer beside him.
"Nothing about this body displeases me," Daniel begins.
His eyes travel up from their fixation on her back, and he gazes at her. He sees past her body, into it, and sees her soul: This brilliant ray of light has not waned once since he met her, and he admired this more than anything.
Salice knew as well as Daniel did that this love they shared would soon be reduced to nothing but a fraudulent affair. If anyone were to discover their attraction... more precisely, the hard truth that it had been consummated, Daniel would be killed. Salice would be left with guilt and grief, and their love would be a tragedy. Still, they played this dangerous song of love. They created sweet music that, on any night not careful enough, would be silenced forever.
"But?"
Salice waits for his answer patiently, allowing him to gather the pieces of it that had been scattered and damaged by the raging storm of his mind. He sighs, letting his hands coast down the shores of Salice's hips, bringing her body to lap against his front like the beautiful waves upon the harsh cliffs of Katyronia. He presses his lips to her neck, thinking of what to say.
"I don't want anyone else to please you," he mumbles. Like a Tartarus trench, his voice is deep and dark and holds far worse than you seem to believe at first.
"Salice, I dread the day that it happens."
They stand in hushed silence, heavy with the reality of their damned love. It was damned from the start, they both knew. Though, the love was too sweet to relinquish. They could not stay away from each other.
She grabs his hands on her hips, arms in a cross, lacing her fingers with his. Her dress slid further down her body, the fabric in ripples. Salice didn't want the tears in her voice to escape. She struggled to keep even.
"The day is not this one, my love."
Daniel heeds her short promise of peace. She was right. It was not this one. That promise just made it worse. It made him even angrier to know he would just have to wait for his love to be ripped from his arms. He didn't want to wait for that to happen. He desired to take action, but Salice forbid it. She knew it could cost his life, yet she'd be back in the same rotten predicament. Some part of her wanted to disappear and run away with him, but could Salice really live happily? Could she live like that, knowing that her desire to be with a knight would cost her family its kingdom and her kingdom its freedom? Daniel didn't know.
"What day will it be then?"
His tone was harsher now, making Salice draw back from his touch. That wasn't his intention, but it was done.
"What?"
The hurt in her voice was heavy, her lips parted in a hapless pout. Salice turns to grab both sides of his face. She gets closer and searches for where the hostility came from.
Daniel grabs her hands and kisses them in a soft apology, letting his lips linger on those kind hands of hers. Those hands had cast a million spells, many of which had been on his skin in the soft caress of darkness. They had healed him from battle, held his own in happiness, rubbed out pain from places he didn't know he still harbored it. He steps away from her.
"Daniel... what is wrong? Use your words and tell me."
Her pleading cry battered his back as Daniel turned to pace about the room. He pinched the bridge of his nose, finding a way to express his concern, anger, and grief to the only woman who cared to listen.
"I hate that king."
Salice stops, and she listens. She listens to what he says because she knows it is the very thing that has been gnawing away at him since he loved her for the first time. Daniel had been so kind to spare her for many months, but he needed to bear his heart. She knew that.
"You know how much I hate him, don't you?"
She nods. "I know, my love."
"I hate the king you're betrothed to... I hate the king that warrants it. Yes, as a matter of fact, I hate both of those fucking pigs."
It didn't pain Salice as much as she had thought to hear him speak ill of her father. Many a time, she had those same thoughts. She had never shared with another, not even her lover. She didn't want to cause him pain.
"You want to know what he said to me?"
Salice could hear the fury rising in Daniel's voice. She holds the dress to her bare chest as she nods, waiting for Daniel to unleash the vilest things upon her ears.
Daniel recounted in his mind, that slimy vermin Germaine Steppenwolfe, attempting to embarrass him in front of the King and Queen of Illis. How he had belittled him in a way he could not combat, for it was so sneaky, hidden. He wished not only to defile his woman but his manhood. Those two things Daniel had come to take very seriously.
__
"Sir Daniel, you are not required to decide right away what to do. Once Salice is married, you'll have every place in this court. You've proven a valiant hero, and we'd be honored to keep hosting you."
Daniel shakes his head, trying not to stare off into the fire. He was getting lost in his mind. He couldn't stand to hear those words together, Salice and married. He couldn't stand them because he would not be the one to do it.
"I couldn't stay here, not serving, Your Highness. There would be nothing more than guard duty for me here, and you already have stead for that." Daniel didn't undergo all his years at that academy to be a castle guard. He didn't do that at all.
Germaine intercepts the conversation with a hearty laugh.
"Daniel, you should know when a good opportunity presents itself."
He looked at King Steppenwolfe with concealed disgust.
"I do, King. It is why I came to Illis in the first place."
He and Yule, his good friend, had heard of the kingdom's many riches. They had heard of the beauty that had graced the castle walls, inside and out. They had heard of this land of magic and the many things it could offer. He didn't know how at the time how much he would receive.
"It was not my intention to undermine, Sir Daniel..." Germaine's cold, gravelly voice crackled along with the hot flame. It was eerie, and Daniel despised it.
"You should stay here. You wouldn't have to work. I think it'd be a good place for you since your knightly duties to the princess didn't demand too high of a price from you? Not much would change. You could be comfortable."
Daniel could not be further insulted. Nothing more disrespectful had he heard in his life. Nobody knew, not even Salice, that his service to her had been the best few months of his life. Just as that happiness was bestowed upon him, he would feel his heart being ripped from his chest, just as his princess was to be taken from him. Daniel had an inkling Germaine knew of the love Daniel had for Princess Netherbane: The love of many nights, which they had indulged... It was the most gut-wrenching and unsure feeling to know Germaine had the knowledge, with it, the power to sentence him to death. Instead of exposing Daniel's sins and letting consequences befall him, Germaine wouldn't let Daniel face his fate with honor. He instead wanted to watch him suffer and take away what was most precious to him. Daniel was angered that Germaine still had the gall to go further to put him under siege like this.
Germaine, with the King and Queen as his witness, discredited all Daniel had done for this kingdom:
Nothing short of everything.
___
Salice looked down at her hands in her lap. She was appalled and embarrassed about what had transpired. She wished she could make things right, but there was no way. Instead, she listened as Daniel told her everything.
Daniel paced back and forth, around and around. He was not able to look at Salice for too long. When Salice finally stifled her shame long enough to look at him, Daniel was already turned about to walk in the farther part of his oblong path.
It went just like this while he spoke to her.
Masculine hands couldn't decide if they wanted to be in pockets, in hair, or tugging at the collar of Daniel's shirt. In the end, they mostly waved about his form in blunt and brutish illustrations of anger. Expensive boots, ones his princess had called upon a cobbler to make especially for him, scuffed along the floor as Daniel drug himself in that miserable circle. The despairing and tormented circle happed to imbricate a rug.
A very specific and very particular rug.
A rug that belonged on the wall.
Those expensive boots, long overdue for cleaning themselves, tracked dust and dried mud onto this rug. The crusted debris that had accumulated in the welts of these boots chipped and cracked, before tumbling down as Daniel took his heavy steps. They were nothing more than little lumps, granules of earth, muck. However, Salice saw them as boulders: sharp, heavy mountain rocks that fell in a landslide that shredded the dignity and quality of a product birthed from so much hard work and spent time.
As much as Salice tried not to let that break her attention away from the bereavement of Daniel's woes, she couldn't refrain from holding her breath. She held it for a long time, just staring at the mess he had made on her rug.
"I told your father I'd think long and hard before approaching him with an answer, but, Salice, I don't have any intention of pondering it. I just think of the same thing..."
Daniel stilled as his fiery eyes locked onto the full moon outside. He was enraged just enough that maybe if he put his mind to it, he could bear craters into its very surface. If Daniel had enough power to accomplish that feat, he knew his true goal would be easy.
"Salice," he whispered.
"I want to kill him."
Salice looked up from the floor into Daniel's hard stare. He was overwhelmed with rage and affliction, it was apparent. His emotions radiated from him like a demented aura.
The princess' hands were met with one another, tangled fingers in the form of a cage at her mouth, elbows on her knees. She let her breath stream past those fingers before sitting up straighter. She looked at Daniel without the slightest clue of what to say to him. She couldn't understand what he was feeling, no. She was feeling something much different, seemingly worse once it had steeped in her mind for but a few moments. She didn't want to compare swords, but the one she was falling on seemed duller, dirtier, and coated with salt. It would inflict so much deeper and longer a pain than Daniel could ever feel.
She was the one to marry this king. She was the one who would have to leave her family, her sister. Sold to protect everyone who had always claimed to protect her, she would be wrapped in expensive packaging and couriered off to a strange and foreign land with no familiar face to ease her. She was the one to have whatever few rights of autonomy she possessed now stripped from her like the rags off a sacrilegious harlot. She'd be placed in the leathery clutches of a vile man with no other purpose but for his profuse pleasures and paradoxical parade. She'd be forced to endure rape after rape in that grave of a wedding bed, harsh hands defacing her every fold and precipice, unable to cry for help because this is what they call matrimony. It was she who would, under the watch of the world she had once viewed so innocently, be desecrated and destroyed by that disgusting degenerate of a king.
Daniel could be angry. He was allowed it, encouraged it. She would be heartbroken and furious if he was not. However, something about his anger seemed selfish.
Daniel was not angry because Salice would be forced to live without him; Daniel seemed angry because he would be forced to live without her.
At least, that's what Salice thought at the moment.
Usually, her mind was a tranquil place, seldom fogged with sadness or hailed with rage. She spent much of her time here because the avenues connecting it to reality were restricted by customs and manners. When the drawbridge of her mouth was to remain shut during dinners or audiences or public gatherings, Salice would ensure that every part of the dominion that was her mind was understood and tended to. Salice carefully checked anything that passed through, turning it over to survey and inspect. She would touch anything out of place, painting it the same reasonable color the rest of her thoughts were painted.
This was usually.
As of late, a dead and grey thought marched its dark parade through her mind. It hung like a stormcloud over everything inside, not allowing for a bit of peace reprieve. The thought?
Her marriage to King Germaine Steppenwolfe.
No joy was ever permitted for long before that wretched stormcloud would rain all over it. Salice thought about that marriage, and everything it entailed, so much that it threatened to consume her. When she could spare the time, she would lay in bed and anticipate the horrible things that would become commonplace in her life after that marriage.
She could only do this for so long until something of grander importance to the people around her would demand Salice's attention. After all, depression was not convenient for the young princess.
The only time Salice was impervious to the numbing rain was in the comforting shield of her dear sister's company and under the canopy of Daniel's love. That rain seemed to get through that canopy tonight, and Salice is now forced to think about the very thing she tries every day to forget.
Daniel's emotions loudly burst their way into Salice's dreary mind and attempted to make a place for themselves. Salice was sorry to disappoint them, but there wasn't one big enough that they'd be happy with. Daniel had the potential to see tonight that the rain he had been overlooking, rain which was slowly, violently drowning Salice in grief unimaginable, would be enough to quench his flames of anger long enough for him to comprehend this was not exclusively his cross to bear.
Salice came back to reality and looked at Daniel. She really looked at him. Beyond the roughage of his exterior, the fine clothes attempting to civilize it, and that negative aura that had just about stifled all the air in the room. She looked as the drawbridge finally came down.
"Would killing him make anything or anyone any better except you?"
Her tone was somber and uncomforting. Daniel was not expecting this from Princess Netherbane. Her question sounded like an interrogation, one he was neither prepared to receive nor rebuttal against. He looked into those eyes that challenged him to see if it was really Salice who had said that to him. Those emerald eyes did not sparkle like they did earlier this night or on all of the others he had come to see her. They were hard and dull like two lumps of unrefined ore. Daniel never thought to fear the fire of her mind, but he realized it could be made hot enough to turn that which he saw in her eyes into a dangerous weapon he would be at the mercy of through her words.
He didn't back down.
"It would make you better! It would make the marriage null. We could be together!"
The heat of exasperation rose in his neck, gripping it with all ten of its unforgiving digits. His voice was mangled into a disgruntled yell that, if these walls were not stone, would have woken the entire castle.
"Do you not want that, Salice?"
Salice stood up to face him, not even coming to stand at his chin. She did not let her size diminish her voice. Daniel would finally hear her too.
"Of course, I want that! Have I ever inspired any doubt?"
Daniel tried to calm down, trying to realize that he and his lover would not solve anything like this. His anger had seduced him, and he no longer heeded the voice of reason. He leaned forward and came closer to Salice's face, grunting with the base nature of a wild animal.
"I am doubting you now."
Salice's core turns over and turns still. Daniel's words spilled pain and anger onto her soul, tainting it red with rage and black with anguish. How could he doubt her for doing the right thing? How could he doubt her love for him? Her duty as a princess could never outweigh the love she had for him.
The tears that were contemplating at the backs of her eyes rushed through Salice's once sturdy levees like they were made of glass. They tore through the cattails of her lashes and charged down the fullness of her cheeks like a roaring flood along peaceful plains. She spoke through gritted teeth, her body winding tight like the tension of a kite’s string
“Doubt me? How dare you… How dare you say such a horrible thing?”
Daniel looks down into the eyes of the woman he realized he may have broken. Her tattered voice was ragged coming from her throat, tight with tears. Her face twists into a wet mess of something not simple enough to be described as sadness or anger. It was complex. It was red cheeks and a red nose, scrunched to resemble a broken heap of terracotta bricks. It was dewy drops of rain clinging to beautiful lashes during a terrible deluge of rain. It was a clenched jaw to keep the hurt subdued, such a hard feature to grace the soft face of his princess. It was a swollen and trembling pout, searching for a sword to defend herself against his inconsideration, or one to strike him down so he could bleed with her. Her brows reached for one another in a wounded furrow, knitting just so that the thick brown hairs could turn up in the longing of an apex.
“Have I not showed you? Promised myself to you?”
Salice waited for Daniel to answer. His lips were set in a regretful line, his eyes gone soft. Salice would get lost in the obsidian seas of his eyes for hours, just admiring their darkness. What mysteries those seas held; she had once wondered. She thought she would discover them all. Now she was staring into a pit of what? Guilt? Remorse? Indifference? She couldn’t tell. Neither would he.
At his silence, her sorrow was the phoenix rising, transforming into an anger unimaginable to anyone who’s never loved. Salice balled her fists and beat them against Daniel’s sturdy chest. How many times this place was her pillow, so soft and comforting. Now it was a bulwark, hard and solid. Her hands did nothing but echo her tortured voice.
“You selfish, blind, stupid man! I have loved you, loved you!”
With every word Daniel could see the pain come off her in waves. It came in the form of angry monsoons, smashing against his chest until the hardness of his heart was gone, the physical toll of those blows nothing compared to the emotional ones.
Salice could swear she could hear the hollowness of his heart’s prison as she beat on its walls. They were crumbling, but Salice couldn’t see that through her tears. She couldn’t hear it over her cries.
"I want a life with you! I want you, Daniel... but I don't want the blood of an entire kingdom on my hands!"
The venom in Salice’s words dwindled out until broken sobs replaced them altogether. She thought she could be angry, but Daniel had found the one weakness in her armor that she didn’t ever foresee and it was him.
He had weakened her until she was sure she would die.
She wanted Daniel more than she had ever wanted anything before. Didn’t he know? Wanting someone was easy. Prioritizing the thousands of lives that outweighed her own was the difficult part of this. Salice wished she could be selfish, but as a princess, that was the one luxury she didn't have. This was the one way she was poor: in freedom.
“I cannot… live like that,” she whispers, defeated.
He had never seen her so upset, certainly not with him. It was something Daniel wished he could unsee. To know he had unleashed this sorrow upon her… It so easily tore him down. He had sworn to protect her, not whatever this was. Even like this, she was beautiful. Made small and hurt by his words and hands, she was still beautiful.
Daniel gently reached down to grab his lover’s weakening wrists as she slumped against his broken heart. She let him, uncurling her tense, aching fingers. Salice let her tears flow freely now that she was in his arms, still her safest place, even after tonight.
“Salice… I’m so sorry.”
Daniel’s voice was softer now. He drew her close, wrapping her in his warm embrace. She was so small in his arms, Daniel’s heart threatened to burst. Her hot, wet cheek stuck to his neck. He felt the vibrations of her voice as she wept. They couldn’t get close enough to each other. Her trembling hands were begging for purchase on the fabric of his back and Daniel’s large ones were cradling her head and body so close to him, he was not sure she could breathe. Daniel takes a deep breath of her soothing scent, the scent he wanted on his lips.
“I know… I know you love me. I know… I’m sorry.”
She had made him understand.
Daniel had never thought in full of the weight of Salice’s decisions and responsibilities. He had thought of them yes, but he had never put himself in her place. He had never considered the real gravity of the choice she had to make: to refuse a life she wanted in order to save the thousands she, as a princess, was responsible for. She damned herself for them, like a messiah and a martyr. Daniel took his knighthood so seriously for so many years. He fought to protect people from others, or even themselves. He drew up his sword, time and time again to do this, hurtling enemies to dastardly fates and reigning victory upon them. Never once had he made a single sacrifice of his own that he would have to think twice about. Never had he contemplated the decision to allow his body and mind to be sold for the lives of those he had vowed to protect. Salice kneeling to this fate, as much as Daniel wished she wouldn’t, made her more of a knight than he ever could have hoped to be. He was proud of this princess, this woman, whose heart was big enough to love him, as well as thousands more.
Salice opened the door to her apartment. She wasn't expecting her ex. Red eyes were blinking back tears, her weak hand lingered on the doorknob and the other almost let the expensive tumbler cup drop to the floor. It was full of vodka and fruit punch. Salice never liked the taste of alcohol. It was strange for her to be drinking.
"Hey..."
Daniel didn't know what to say. He hadn't seen Salice like this, maybe ever. His stomach churned. He clenched and unclenched his fist, just looking at the young woman that had been such a joy in his life a few years before. She looked so different now, but also so much the same.
"You can, uh... stand there all night if you want or you can come in... it's up to you."
She turned her back and trudged back to the couch. Dan followed her, standing in the middle of the floor. The television was on and the sound was loud. Dan knew that sign if the others weren't apparent. She always did that when she was upset. Dan knew she didn't like to hear herself think.
Dan looked around. The place was pretty clean. There was new artwork up, stuff he'd never seen before. A lot of photos of Salice and Kenai, a lot of solo portraits of her too. He wondered who photographed them. They were really good.
"Where's Kenai?"
He was looking around and he didn't see the dog. Something in the pit of his stomach twisted, he didn't know what he thought.
Sisi drew her legs up on the couch, putting the sleeve of her sweater to her nose. "He's sleeping in the bedroom... he didn't hear you come in over the TV."
She grabbed the remote and turned the sound down. She kissed her lips to call the dog, her voice breaking a bit. "Kenai!"
He came trotting in the room, tail wagging, his nails clicking on the wood floor of the apartment. He was having trouble picking who to run to, he was excited to see his daddy.
Dan crouched down to scratch behind the puppy's ears. He was still so young and full of energy.
He and Salice had adopted that dog together, two years ago. Sisi had found him on the street and brought him home. He grew up in a house full of people when everyone still lived together. Charlie was with Yumi now, and Salice left. When she did, she took Kenai with her. Dan really missed him, and he didn't want her to take their puppy, but she left for a good reason. Dan couldn't bear to have her be alone, so he didn't make it hard on her to let Kenai stay. Ever since they reconnected earlier in the year, Sisi had always been so good about letting him visit.
"Who's a good boy... yeah... I missed you... yes..."
Dan's deep voice echoed through the apartment. Salice watched them with wet eyes. She was having a really rough spell, and she wanted her dog here. She didn't want him to go just yet.
Dan grabbed Kenai's lead on a peg over the trash can. He raised his brow when he noticed two boxes full of stuff near it.
"Hey... you want me to throw this away for you?"
He walked over to the boxes. It didn't look old or worn out, it just looked like a lot of miscellaneous items someone didn't want. Dan picked up a desktop keyboard, the kind that turns rainbow when you plug them in.
"No.. It's not trash." Sisi was hesitant to tell him what it was, but she didn't want him to touch it. She still hadn't gone through all that stuff... she didn't want anyone to get to it before she was ready.
"Please... don't touch it... Any of it."
Dan twisted his mouth and put the keyboard back. Why was she getting so defensive over this?
"It must be your neighbor's then? Your boyfriend?" He remembered the guy she was seeing. He lived right next door to her. He really didn't like that guy. He couldn't honestly think of any other reason other than the fact he was seeing his ex, but there had to have been some other things. Dan thought a moment. He didn't like how friendly he was with his dog. He wouldn't have liked it any better if Gage was mean to Kenai, but just the fact that Kenai had gotten so familiar with someone else. He imagined his dog sleeping in a bed with Sisi and that guy she was dating. He loathed that thought.
Sisi stands up and goes over to tape the boxes shut. Grabbing the folds of the boxes and swiping the packing tape over them, she sealed them so she wouldn't have to look at Gage's stuff anymore. Her voice was harsh, and the alcohol gave it a sharp edge that was unusual for her.
"Well, he's not my boyfriend anymore! But yeah, it's his stuff." She spat, throwing the packing tape back in the coat closet. She stomped to the kitchen to pour more fruit punch into her cup. Only a little, Dan noticed, and she filled the rest with vodka until it was brimming.
Oh... that's why she was drinking.
Daniel didn't know if he should ask what happened. Scratch that, he knew he shouldn't ask... but he really wanted to know.
Salice turned and leaned against the counter. Her face was turned into something short of a grimace, but somehow Daniel still thought that was pretty. She was just pretty. No matter what mood she was in.
"Aren't you gonna say something?" Her raspy voice was unforgiving.
Dan shook his head. "Well, what do you want me to say?" He didn't want to fight with her. They never fought. And Dan remembers... this is the first time she's ever picked a fight with him.
Salice lifts her arms and hands in a hysteric shrug, letting them fall to her thighs with a loud slap.
"I don't fucking know. You can start by asking me a bunch of questions about what hell happened. Or you can give me that smug little look, like 'oh, great! that guy I intimidated on their date night isn't around anymore' or maybe you can seem like you're even a little sad for me?"
Dan grits his teeth and tries to remember this isn't Sisi, this is the alcohol talking. She's never raised her voice like this at him. He doesn't ever recall her raising her voice at all...
"Well, if you don't want to tell me that's okay too. I am sorry it didn't work out..."
His mind was searching for the right words: something else to say. What came out just now wasn't all that genuine. He truly was sorry Sisi was so upset about her breakup that she was drinking like this... but he wasn't that upset about the breakup itself. If he was honest with himself, which he was most of the time, he was a bit glad he didn't have to see that guy every time he came over to visit his dog. Especially because he didn't have his own girlfriend to go home to anymore.
Salice bit the inside of her cheek. Daniel didn't like the way those big green saucers of her bore into his soul. He didn't like the tears that flirted with her lashes, threatening to spill over onto those full, red cheeks. He didn't like to look at this cheery girl so sad.
"We never talked about it."
Dan puts the lead back on the hook. He didn't want Kenai getting all excited to leave when he was anticipating this conversation to last a little longer than he thought was comfortable.
"You and Gage?" He leaned back against the wall across from her. He folded his arms.
"No... you and me."
Dan's stomach sank. Somehow he knew it was gonna come back to this. She was right. They had never really talked about their own breakup. She had apologized for leaving, but he knew there was more than that. So much more than that. She wasn't the one who broke his heart.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked. He didn't want her to answer, but he needed to ask.
"Do you?"
He wasn't sure. He didn't want to be under fire, especially by someone who was so volatile. She looked so hurt like she had never healed from it. Maybe she never did. The point was Dan didn't know. He didn't know because he never asked.
"What did you need to know?"
Salice scoffed. It was almost malicious.
"Do you wanna guess?"
Two broad fingers pinched the bridge of Daniel's nose. He didn't want to play games. He didn't even have to stay for this... he didn't know why he was still here.
"Salice-"
"Why didn't you come see me?"
Those tears were spilling now, jumping from her eyes and plummeting down to the skin of her breast. Her tank was dappled with them before Dan could answer.
"I didn't think you wanted to see me." It was simple. It was the reason.
"Of course, I wanted to see you, Daniel! Do you know how much I missed you?"
Daniel was quiet. He had missed her too. More than she was believing right now.
Salice grabbed her phone. Her nails were bare. They were short. That was so unlike her. Daniel remembered all the nights she'd scratch his neck and hair for him while he slept. The marks she'd leave on his back after a good night... He remembered her whines from the other rooms when she would break one while cooking or playing with the puppy.
"I waited for this fucking thing to ring, or buzz or something, with you telling me I could come home! That I would be safe or something-" she sniffed, not letting her running nose get the best of her.
"But you never called me..."
Her tears were running freely now, and Salice's words were barely audible while she wept. It was one of the hardest things Daniel had to sit and endure. He didn't know if he should hug her or if he had that privilege. He couldn't bring himself to leave. He deserved every word coming out of her mouth and somehow, even drunk and hurting she hadn't said one thing to wound him.
"Yeah, I was the one who left, but I had to make a decision I shouldn't have had to make at all!" She paused a swallowed the lump in her throat before continuing in a defeated whisper.
"I love you so much, Dan but I left because it seemed like I couldn't love my sobriety and you... together. So I chose."
He's leading her down a dusty path, the sandstone homes of the part of Orasan city making a narrow way for them. The two tiptoed under the few lit torches of the alleyway, careful not the make any noise in this quiet part of the slums.
Stray dogs lay cautiously watching, heads on their folded paws. They stirred up dirt with their scraggly tails and panted a hello to the pair as they continue on. The night sky is filled with stars, twinkling like little blazes of fire in a faraway land
"Where are we going?" Isabella asks.
Shuhei tightens his grip on her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. He brushes his index finger on her knuckles. "There's a place I want you to see."
As they crossed an intersection in the road, a few camels cut them short. Isabella marvelled at their swaying hips, and their masters swaddled in dark clothes. They were most likely Vithrat smugglers. Shuhei had known about them in his time on Orasas. They sold other things besides the most tempting drug known to this side of the sea, like gold wares and exotic treasures and pets. They were more common now that the Guard has no means of enforcement. They were friendly enough when provided the right accommodations. and the right price.
Shuhei tightened his grip on his wife as they continued through the streets. His geta and her sandals scuffed the sandy stones underfoot. What he was about to show her... he hadn't shown to anyone else before. He wasn't even sure if it was still there.
"Shuhei, look," she points out. There was a small tattered piece of cloth with an insignia on it, limp in the windless night. It hung in front of a small sandstone abode, toward the end of the narrow side street. Jungle trees had overrun the front stoop, once tamed and well groomed. The shingles on the roof had long since been stripped and the walls were crumbling and cracked. The blood smear beside the rotten wooden door had faded. Not how he remembered the place. He had been afraid of that.
"What does that mean, do you know?"
Shuhei sighed. He had wished this wasn't the case... but what did he expect? Almost 20 years away from this place. What did he expect?
"It doesn't mean anything now."
He shouldered the door in, dust and sand falling from the shifting doorframe. He waited a beat to make sure the structure was stable before he held out his hand. Isabella took it firmly, stepping inside the small home.
There wasn't much left inside it, in the main room at least. There was a fire pit in the middle of the floor and moth-eaten blankets and rugs on the dirt floor. Everything was covered in soil. Shuhei turned his nose up at the foul condition of the place. It made his blood boil, it made his heart ache.
He turned to Isabella. Her hair had grown out again since living in Orasas for a while. It fell down her shoulders in a braid he had done up for her. Her body was covered in a halter made of red silk, a wrap-around skirt to match. She clutched a shawl around her torso with one hand, holding his with the other. Her eyes were wide, curious, taking in the surroundings. She wondered what this place could be... where her husband had brought her this night.
"Shuhei, baby?" She looked at him for reassurance, for clarity. "Where are we?"
Her gentle voice was almost drowned out by the locusts and crickets in the trees outside. Some of them had made their way inside, opening the small space to make it seem like it was just an extension of the untamed island. Like nobody had ever lived here... like this was a ruin that was intended to be forgotten.
He grimaced.
"My mother's house."
Isabella softens, taking a step forward into Shuhei's arms. Her head is pressed to his bare chest, the hems of his robes touching her cheeks softly. She could hear the coarse, yet light fabric scrape against the gold barbells that were pierced through his nipples. He held her close, standing in the middle of a home that never seemed to be.
Isabella knew how hard this must have been for him. She knew that he felt this was a part of him that he was supposed to leave behind. She was honored he had shown it to her.
This part of him seemed to always have been a blemish, a rancid spot that Kyoh had tried punishing him for... then attempted to wash out. Although it had faded and morphed and evolved, he had never let it die. He had never forgotten who he was. Orasas was always going to be ingrained in him... but it seemed the sands of time and war and turmoil had blasted the last of his hieroglyphs from their original place. Now the only copy of his roots left for him was the bastardized transcription written on his chest in blood. She knew that. He had told her, and she knew.
"Oh, Shuhei..." Isabella hugged him tightly, pouring her love into him. His face was hard to read, a stone bulwark over a whirlwind of pain and disappointment and rage. He draped his arm on her shoulder, not able to take his eyes off the vacant space. Isabella hurt for him.
"I'm so sorry, baby."
He shook his head. "So am I... Sorry, I wasted your time... There's nothing here."
Isabella turned his chin to face her. There was so much love in her eyes, the color of rosy hibiscus. It made Shuhei ease, the hardening of his heart slowed down, and it came to a stillness.
"You haven't wasted a bit of time. This place, it's important to you, no?"
Shuhei pets her head, nodding slowly. Her hair was so soft, so silky. The way her slender fingers trace gently upon his back, faintly rubbing back and forth, it lulled the raging seas of his mind.
"Then coming to see it is worth it. Okay?"
Shuhei took a deep collective breath and his anger seemed to subside a bit. This was proof that there wasn't anything his wife's comfort couldn't fix. She brought his face down to her so she could press her pink lips to the corner of Shuhei's mouth. The Head of the Royal Guard savored his wife's intimate reassurance.
"Show me... show me everything," she whispers.
He nods, regaining the courage to shift through the wreckage of his mother's past, one she seemed to have let fall prey to assimilations in Kyoh. Who could blame her? All the stares, all the beatings, all the spit Shuhei had to wipe from his face as the other children looked down upon him... he would be the first one to understand why his mother would let the ripples of her past turn to the cold, still water of his father's land.
Oh, but the water was never still.
He notices something glinting on a shelf nearby. The moonlight had caught it, sparking a shine in his brown eyes full of pain. Without letting go of his love, he reaches with a long arm to grab the trinket.
It had been a piece of stained glass. It was dusty, but with a few swipes from Shuhei's thumb, he could see the red glass more clearly. He marveled at it... could it be?
"It's..." He whispered. He talked as if he'd blow his own hope away. Softly, his words barely a sound leaving his lips.
Isabella looked up at him, at his eyes turned hopeful, nearly black in the dark house. She didn't know what he was holding.. but it seemed so important.
Shuhei took a minute to complete his thought. He didn't want to be wrong. He let the world stand still around him, in case what he thought to be was all just a mirage...
But it was. It was what he had thought! He smiled, hugging Isa close. He held it down so she could see it. She huddled over the piece of glass inventively.
"It's my grandmother's old prayer glass..."
Isabella rose her eyebrows. It was beautiful, engraved with swirls of Orasan ash paint and etched with little words. She wondered what they said. She had a feeling though, that she shouldn't ask.
"It's beautiful," Isabella mentions. It looked expertly crafted and very very old. It was chipped on the edges, the perfect circle resembling a sand dollar.
Shuhei nodded. "Yeah... these are considered artifacts now... They were supposed to shed the Devil's light on your old sins... and pray them away."
He admired it, holding it to the moon's light so that red beams would strike the floor of the home. "My mother also has one..."
He paused before he continued as if he didn't really want to mention what was going through his mind. Isabella waited patiently for him to finish.
"But it's locked away since she no longer practices Elsmaic Worship. She says it's cursed."
The words hung in the air like a plague. The history of this prayer glass was just another thing about them that had gotten washed away. That his mother was wished away.
Isabella looked up at Shuhei. "Do you believe it's cursed?"
Superstition and religion were something that Shuhei had always struggled with. Isabella had her deities, and those made sense to him. His friend Salice was living proof of the Devil and his promises... but even so, he could never find himself believing in anything... not fully.
He shook his head. "No."
It wasn't used for anything anymore. His mother hadn't called on the Devil in decades. How could the devil curse someone if he no longer has power over them? Why would the Devil care so much about a piece of glass? Nobody else did.
Isabella closed her hands around her husband's, encircling the prayer glass in her protective hold. She kissed his knuckles, worn and calloused. How she loved his hands. These hands had built her a home, wielded a sword to protect her, and touched her so tenderly in ways nobody else in the entire world could understand.
"Then we shall keep it."
Shuhei gazed at her soft face. The moon's light cast white rays on the angular shape of her nose, contouring her face into the mural of a goddess. Her sweet lips held the secrets to heaven and the words that will forever guide him when he is lost in the purgatory of his own obscured emotions. He grabbed her chin, leaning down to capture those lips in a sweet kiss.
She held his face, gazing into his eyes for a brief time. The world seemed to stop as they shared this intimate moment. Shuhei could live here forever. His wife's presence turned this shabby grave of his formal life into a grand mausoleum, embracing everything he had ever wished to destroy about himself.
"Shuhei... I want you to know that if this glass is a part of you, I will keep it. If this home is a part of you, then I will honor it. Just as I have received this island into my heart, I will receive any part of you. Good, or bad, blessed or cursed, you are my husband and your life is my life."
Shuhei's tears didn't hesitate to spill over his lids. He cupped Isabella's cheeks and looked into those eyes once more. He knew his heaven would be a place he could forever admire these eyes, and his hell would be any world without them. He pressed his forehead against hers as a quiet sob broke through the confining fortress that was his lips. He couldn't say anything, for she had said it all.
After thirty years, judgment day had finally descended upon him. It had come and gone in these few moments, and, with Isabella as his messiah, he had passed over into a place of peace. His wife accepting this final part of him welcomed Shu into a world of validity, encouragement, and sanction.
Shuhei Kumagai, a bastard of two incommensurable lands, no longer wore the bloody smear of shame. The insurmountable weight he had been carrying both on his shoulders and the pit of his soul had been, at long last, lifted. The four corners of his complicated, fragmented, and equivocal world were now thoroughly explored and were acknowledged with love, by none other than the woman that completed him.
On this day, in the comforting dominion of his wife's light, a man was remedied.
It was this day, with his old sins forgiven, his past curses abolished, his wife had baptized him in love unconditional so that he could bestow it upon himself, today and every day thereafter.
A writing exercise because I am so so so out of practice. Here's the link to the prompt:
A is struggling to do something and was about to give up when B happens to stop by and offers to coach them through it.
"This stupid thing..." Charlie wiped her brow, putting her hands back on the searing metal of the old car. She was deep into the hood, looking at what could've gone wrong when trying to start it.
Orange, dying daylight spilled over the pavement, through the trees of her apartment complex. Soon, she wouldn't have any and this project would need to wait until tomorrow. She didn't want to wait any more days. She was ready to fix this car. Her brother Daniel would eventually teach her to drive, and then she'd be a free bird. The problem was he always had work, which meant he was never home. Including today. Wasn't home to fix the car, wasn't home to teach her in his. His girlfriend, Sisi would teach Charlie sometimes between her shifts at her store, but it was few and far in between. But maybe there would be someone else-
"Hey! Whatcha lookin' at?"
A car pulled up in the street behind Charlie, purring in a low rumble. She turned to see who it was, shielding her eyes against the sun.
Who else would it be?
"Yumi?"
Yumi was Dan's longtime friend, his best friend in fact. He lived about twenty minutes away and came by often. He and Charlie had spoken quite a bit, but they weren't close by any means. He was a few years older and Charlie was always too shy to talk to him. She smiled shyly.
The black convertible shone in the light, and the rims twinkled like stars. He always had taken care of his car, didn't matter which one he had, or what it cost. From the old junkyard fix-up that was his first car to the luxury he owned now, every single time Charlie had seen his car, it had been just as clean and handsome as him. Yumi did love his cars.
"Yeah... I came by to see Dan, but he's not here is he?"
Charlie shakes her head. "No...working."
Yumi puts his car in park, lifting his long hair off his neck. It was sticking to his neck in the sweltering heat, causing him to sigh. Charlie watches closely as he gets out of the car. He walks toward her and takes off his sunglasses. Those pretty blue eyes...
They made Charlie freeze.
"Mh, what are you doing? Need any help?"
Yumi strode up the driveway with his hands in the back pockets of his dark denim. He had on a band t-shirt, one that Charlie really liked. It hugged him in all the right places on that long, slender body of his. It made Charlie blush. She rubs the back of her head, shifting her weight nervously, kicking at her old car's tire.
"Oh, uh... I'm just trying to get this thing to start..."
Yumi gets close, closer than he's ever been before, leaning over Charlie's shoulder. He was close enough that she could smell his hair.
"Mh... lemme take a look..."
After a little while with his hands in the nooks and crannies of her car, Yumi raises his eyebrows and smiles. He wipes the sweat off his brow with the back of his pale hands, now covered in soot and oil.
"Well... good news is, I can fix it tonight?"
Charlie's eyes light up. "You're serious?"
He leans back and puts his hands on his hips, smirking. "Yeah? Let me get your brother's tool box."
When he walks toward the garage, Charlie can't wipe the silly grin off her face. Really, all her problems seemed to be solved in less than 5 minutes. She bites her nail and looks at him go, just to see him turn when he realizes she wasn't following.
