166Author's note:
Due to the strongresponse of this story (which, WOW, was better than anything I hoped for), I decided to post one more Bonus Chapter, before I end up shelving it and concentrate on my other stories.
To be honest, I had planned whats written below to be part of one of the later chapters of the story, and itfocuses on characters other the main cast (Harry & Kusano). And as I wrote it intending it to be notes rather than a published chapter, it might be a little rougher than my usual work.
But still, at little as there is, I hope it gives you a glimpse into the story I have planned, and maybe even the heart of the characters. And personally, as rough as it tuned out, this is one of my favorite chapters I have ever written.
So I hope you enjoy it.
*Chapter Start*
Without wings to fly
He stared down at the sleeping form of the girl lying on the bed.
Hidaka Chiho has always been a sickly child. From birth her body had been frail, her limbs brittle, heart weak. Had she been born in any other era she would have never lived to see past her first year, but medicine and loving parents would see her live when by all rights she should have died.
But while medicine could extend her life, it could not cure her. She would forever be sickly, death hovering but a breath away. So while she did not die, neither could it be said that she lived. Trapped, imprisoned in her own body, she had been forced to sit and let the world slip her by, watching but never participating.
Until a little bird fluttered into her life.
For the first time, Hidaka Chiho had tasted the joy that so many look for but never find. She fell in love.
But even that happiness was ephemeral. Nothing could change the inevitable fate she had been given. Despite having lived for so little, fought for so long, the fate she has avoided has come for her, and not even love could save a life nearing its end.
In short, Hidaka Chiho was born into this world only to die.
Only, she wouldn't.
He took a moment to examine the girl. Magic kept her deep in slumped, leaving her unaware of her surrounding, but even in her sleep she did not give in. Pained breath after painful breath she drew in, filling her lungs with air as she clung to life, defiant till the end.
Every breath was a battle, each intake of new air was agony, her body had long since past the point where it could continue to function – Yet still she fought. Defiant. Refusing to give in to death.
A wry smile drew its way across his lips. Really, was he so bad?
Or perhaps, he thought, turning to look to the door, it was life that held something even I could not offer.
Death held no pain; it was a state free from suffering. It promised rest for the wear, a merciful slumber to the grieving. To one such as her who had already suffered through so much, it would have been a blessing.
But even he could not offer her what she had already found.
If death was the end of pain, then life was the beginning of joy.
From outside the door he could hear her footsteps; the little bird that had given this child a reason to live. He could almost imagine the worry lines drawing between her brows as she paced before the door, biting her nails with frustration.
That bird had always been good at hiding what she was feeling. For all that she laughed and smile along the other, she always kept her true face hidden. But when it came to her Chiho, Uzume wore her heart on her sleeve for all the world to see.
Love tended to do that.
He turned back to slumping child, who even in sleep seemed to be in so much pain. Though love had many powers, it could not free her from her suffering, nor her fate. Death would claim her in the end, like he always did. But to her, it did not seem to matter. She refused to give up.
Love could not save her, but it would keep her fighting.
Even through the door, he could sense the bond linking the two. Burning in his mind's eye like a line of fire. Uzume's worried fretting, overwhelming concern for Ashikabi, but yet she feels no fear for herself. Should this child die so would the little bird share the same fate. A Sekirei was bonded to their Ashikabi and would follow them anywhere, even in death. Chiho's her final breath would also be Uzume's last.
And yet, all Uzume's prayers were for her Chiho to live.
No a single one for herself.
And even Chiho's prayers were no different – ever wish was for Uzume's joy.
Both were willing to die, if only for the other could live.
Harry shook his head ruefully. Really, was he so bad?
Once more he turned his eyes to the slumbering child, listening to her take her final breaths. He raised his hand, letting his fingers linger over her face. Death was tightening its grip on her, and would not let her go. And he had no intention of doing so. This was that natural order of things. She belongs to him, as all that lived did. Life was only a temporary state, all will one day return to his embrace ,and she would be no different.
This one had been born into the world only to die.
And so she will die.
But not today.
This child's return to him was a little too early.
There was still so much for her to do.
There was too little to her tale. A book with but a single page, what meaning would there be in reading it? Her story was little more than an endless wait for her life to begin; a tale no different than that of a still born. It would be a pity to end it here, just when her life was about begin, before she truly understood what made the life she had longed for so breathtakingly beautiful.
Harry pulled his hand away.
Her ending will come, of that there was no doubt, but there was no reason for it to be here. There was no rush, he was used to waiting. Let her live for a little while longer before he welcomed her back into his embrace.
"It's fine." He said allowed, granting her a brief rare smile.
Placing a palm on his chest, he allowed some of his true nature to leak through, and the shirt he wore dissolved into wisps of black smoke, leaving him bare chested.
"We will meet again, but not for a while longer. I'll grant you a little more time than you were meant to have little one, so be sure to make the most of it." He told the sleeping child kindly. "I pray that when we next meet you'll have more woven into your tale."
Raising his right hand, he placed a finger on the left side of his chest, before pulling it straight down, passing over his heart. Lifting his finger again, this time placing it over the center of his chest, did the same again, only this time he drew line that ran horizontally over his heart.
Lifting the finger off his chest, he waited, just for a moment, a literal heartbeat.
Beads of blood pooling against his skin, tiny pinpricks of crimson as his life blood seeped on out from his chest, forming a line over the path he ran his finger over. The two line of blood intersected each other over his heart.
He raised his hand to his chest once again, holding it over his heart. Flatting his hand, he held it so his fingers were pointed straight down to his chest, like the head of a spear. Just as he was about to take the final step, he paused, and looked over the child.
And smiled.
"When we next meet, be sure to tell me of a life worth living."
It was always odd, that he who ended all life, loved it more than any other.
Would he ever change?
He hoped not.
Even if his love for the living brought him nothing but pain, somethings were worth the pain.
With that final thought in his mind, he plunged his hand deep into his chest.
"Are you alright?"
The voice startled him, drawing him out from his sluggish thoughts.
With a herculean effort, Harry forced his eyes to open and turned to look at the speaker, his eyes blinking in tired confusion.
He found himself gazing into a pair of lilac eyes, filled with worry, gazing up from under a curtain of lavender hair, only a hand span away. Her face so close to his own the he could easily see the concern etched into her features.
Harry blinked once again. He really must have been out of not to have noticed Miya approaching.
When he saw the concern on her face deepen he realised he had been staring blankly at her for a while now, lost in his thought.
"I'm fine." Giving her a tired smile, Harry turned away and rested his weary head back against a wooden post, eyes drifting close as he enjoyed the evening breeze. "Just tired, that's all."
The green grass of the garden felt cool beneath the soles feet, legs danging over the edge of the porch. They tickled him slightly as they swayed, pulled back and forth in the spring breeze. He barely noticed, as tired as he was.
Through the open doors of the inn a celebration could be heard coming from within, laughter intermixed with the sound of excited chatter, rising and falling like the waves of a tide every few seconds. The sliding doors hung wide opening behind, allowing light to spill out into the quiet garden and into the night.
He took another deep breath of cool the night air, feeling more exhausted than he had been for a long while. It was nostalgic, in way. He could barely remember the last time he felt so tired, and it brought with it the memories of a time of twisting corridors in ancient castles and moving shadows in forbidden forests.
"Harry, you…" Cracking open an eye, he turned to look at the woman kneeling by his side. Miya hesitated, unable to come to terms with what she was about to say, "….you ripped out your own heart."
Stowed away in the Inn's residential hacker's hidden room, Miya and Matsu both had looked on, through hidden cameras, as the green eyed young man they had grown to know over the last few years, stood over Uzume's unconscious Ashikabi. Before he plunged his hand into his chest and proceed to tear his heart out.
The two could only watch on in muted horror as he continued, unhindered by the blood spilling from the gaping hole in his chest, to take his still beating heart and insert it to the unconscious girl, replacing her own heart with his.
Even after he had finished and left the room, it was a long time before either of two were able to move.
Unconcerned by her spying, Harry managed to flash her with a cheeky smile. "Let it never be said that Harry Potter died from a broken heart." Before laughing at his own joke.
But upon seeing the genuine concern in the Land Lady's eyes, Harry finally relent.
"I'm fine, really." He reassured her. "Its not that difficult. A heart is nothing more than a gloried pump. Even without one it just means that I have to force the blood thought my veins with magic instead of the old fashion way." He wore a tired if satisfied smile as he rested his head on the post and looked over the night sky. He found trouble keeping his eyes open, so he didn't bother trying, letting them drift shut instead.
"I admit, it's the most comfortable of experiences. I keep forcing my blood into going the wrong way at times, and have to spend time fixing the damages, but give me a little while and I'll get used to it. In a couple of hours you'll never be tell I'm missing a heart."
Without warning, Harry found himself heaving.
Out of its own violation, his body wrenched forward, bending over double as bile rose to his throat. A hand clamped over his lips, trying to stem the flow of the fluids but it did little good. Blood seeped past his fingers, dripping to the ground and staining the grass below a crimson red.
He hacked a couple of more times, chest heaving, before the attack subsided as he managed regain control over the flow of his blood. Falling back against the post in relief, he waved a frantic Miya away before she could managed to grab his shoulder.
"It's fine," He reassured the panicked woman, hovering by his side like a concerned mother hen, "It's fine, I can't die. I promise. This body won't let me die. Look, see?" He held out the hand that had covered his mouth as proof.
And it was true.
All the blood that had once soaked his fingers were gone, leaving the digits spotless. Even the fluids that had strained the grass was gone, dissolving into a dark mist before mingling with the night air and faded to nothingness.
"I'm fine." He repeated, turning to face the woman, who had risen half way to her feet in her panic. He propped his back against the post and brought one knee up to his chest. With a pull of a his magic and twirl of his fingers, Harry pulled a long thine pipe from mid air. With another flick of his fingers he lit the bowl and brought it to his lips, gripping the bamboo shaft lightly. "She gave me this body so that I may forever live, something like a missing organ isn't enough to kill it. Neither she nor I will allow it. I'm going to end up living forever. Trust me," He winked, "I should know that better than anyone."
Despite his words, Miya still managed to look unconvinced.
Sighing with a roll of his eyes, he waved at the area around themselves with his pipe. "Look, do you see Kuu anywhere?" He asked rhetorically. "Do you really think that she won't be here if I really was dying?"
Miya stilled, looking uncertain as she hovered between reaching out to him or leaving him be, before at last she relaxed.
"That's true, I suppose." The landlady admitted, rigidness flowing out her as she untensed. After a moment she shook her head and took a proper seated position, straightening her back as folded her legs beneath her and gracefully knelt by his side. Miya had always managed to carry herself with an effortless dignity, and tonight was no different.
She then glanced around once, a puzzled look on her face. "Where is little Ku-chan anyway?"
"Back there," he pointed over his shoulder at the open doors with his pipe, "stopping the others from wandering over."
At the entrance to the dinning room that led to the porch she stood her ground, preventing the Inn's other residents from reaching him.
Feet planted firmly on the ground, the teenaged girl held her arms wide open, barring their path with her body, looking like a tiny warrior standing defiantly before an invading army, determination to keep them from reaching her Ashikabi and let him get all the time he needed.
Without even to be told, Kuu somehow knew that he never wanted anyone to see him like this. Not even her. Hurt, bleeding, suffering. And forced herself to stay away, even as she ached to reach his side.
For that, he could never be more thankful.
It was odd, finding someone who could understand him. He had long ago given up hope, to find someone who could fully comprehend what he felt.
He was simply too different, too inhuman for them to understand.
But with her, it didn't matter.
He didn't even need the words. Just a single glance and she would know, understanding him far better than he could even understand himself.
Which is why, even as she he heeded his desires and stayed away, still managed to defy his wishes as she refused to part from him completely. She never did. Not since that day under the swaying leaves was she ever far from his side.
It was exactly what he need.
He could feel her through their bond, as if she was literally there with him, the depth of what she felt for him wrapping him, keeping him warmer than any blanket ever could. It still left him in awe even after all this time. And what was more she granted him the gift of her her eyes, allowed him to look through them so that he may see the reason he had suffered for – and remind him what he was doing was worth fighting for.
Within the Inn, Kusano watched on the life he had managed to save and allowed him to see it as well.
Uzume laughing even as she cried, a hand clamping over her mouth as she watched in disbelief, eyes wide and shinning with tears, as her Ashikabi took a staggering step forward, the first she had ever seen her do.
Harry smiled at the image, allowing exhaustion taking over him as he dropped his head back against the post.
Kusano always knew exactly what he need to see.
"I can't die." Harry brought the pipe to his lips and drew in a lungful of smoke before puffing it out, eyes closed. "So if this heart of mine can give someone joy, then let them have it. It is not as if I need it to survive."
Kneeling next to him Miya looked down at his chest, eyes lingering at the spot that once held his heart, before looking to his face. "But doesn't it hurt?"
"Every bit as much as you would expect having your heart ripped out would." He laughed, waving a hand when he caught the unamused look she was giving him, poorly concealed concern in her eyes. "It's fine, I've dealt with worse. And something like this, compared to what those two went through, is nothing. The pain Uzume felt watching her Ashikabi wither away, to know that she was dying and being helpless to stop it, is far worse than what I'm going through."
"Besides," He added, seemingly as an afterthought. "I'm already used to it."
"...That doesn't make it any better Harry."
"No, no it doesn't." He agreed, letting out another puff of smoke into the night sky. "But someone has to suffer, so why not me? I can take it, far better than they can. And in the end, this is all my fault anyway. All I'm doing is giving them a little more time, a few short decades, before I take them away. It's only right that I do this much."
He turned to look at her then, looking so bone-weary tired even as he managed to wear a smile, dark hair falling over his face so that only a single emerald eye was visible peeking up through the mess of raven locks. "I never understood why, knowing what I am, you never came hate me for it."
Miya found herself staring sadly at the young man before her.
How can I hate you, when you look like that?
Seeing that she wasn't about to answer, Harry turned away and looked back towards the garden before raising his sights to the night, the moon hanging bright overhead. "If its any consolation to you," he began, gazing up to the moon, "know that all who die end up in the same detestation. When your time comes, year from now, you will end up going to the place as your husband."
Miya stiffed, her normally narrowed eyes shot wide open, staring in abject shock at him, before ever so slowly, she relaxed again and allowed a tiny smile drift to her lips. "I see," she nodded, "that does indeed help."
For a few minutes no words passed between them, The two inhuman friends enjoying the comfortable silence between them, before a thought occurred to her.
Miya sent Harry a curious look. "Does that mean that there is an afterlife then?"
He shrugged. "No idea."
This time Miya could not stop hide incredulity she felt from appearing on her face. "Forgive me, I don't want to accuse you of lying, but I find it hard to believe that you wouldn't know."
Harry laughed, looking very amused. "Don't be. A lot of people make that mistake. They think that just because Death is the end of Life, that I am supposed to be responsible to what happens to a person after they die."
"You aren't?"
"No." He shook his head. "Or at least, not completely. I am simply the end. Not that beginning. I'm not where the journey starts but where it comes to a stop. If there is something more afterwords, then that would make it a new beginning, the start of new journey. And that would place it firmly in Life's domain, not my own. And for all the eons as we have known one another, Life has never bothered to tell me if there is life after Death."
"I see. And I won't suppose that this..." Miya hesitated, "...Life person could tell you if you asked?
"She could." He admitted before adding. "but I doubt she would be willing to."
"And why ever not?"
"Because she hates me."
Miya looked astound at that confession, but only for a moment, her surprise fading as a thoughtful look too its place. "Ah...I see."
"No, I don't think you do." Harry said and drifted to silence, not bothering elaborate anymore than that.
How could he? How can he explain through words alone what it meant to be them.
Turning his eyes back onto the garden, he allowed himself to take it all in. Even now, when most of the world slumbered, this simple patch of land was teeming with life. So tiny that they were all but invisible to mortal eyes, they stood out to him like tiny suns; a field of endless stars that matched the ones in the heavens above.
And as always, they fascinated him.
Just as they had eons ago, when the first of those who lived came to be.
From as long as he could remember, he had loved Life more than any other.
It was only fitting, he supposed, that the Life he had come to love so much, hated him more than any other in turn.
This life that had been given to him by her, the body he envelope, was never meant to be a gift. But a punished. A curse. In her hatred she offered him a body of flesh and blood, temping him with opportunity to experience the life he loved so much.
And in his eagerness, he accepted, never knowing the consequences of being born.
It through this, that he learned pain.
This was her curse. Her hatred for him. Her punishment to he, the one who would forever take away her creations from her. That he may feel all the suffering he brought to the world.
For though he was Death, the bringer of the End, he never knew pain. That was not his domain, but Life's.
Life is painful, it is agony. For all its warmth and wonders, one cannot live with suffering, and that is the lesson all learn the moment they are brought into this world.
When a child is born in the world, they cry. Screaming their lungs out as they fill with air for the very first time, learning in the very first moment of life that it is painful. The very act of taking a breath pains them. We hurt, we cry, we suffer just as we laugh, sing and love. All are a part of Life, intermixed with each other so thoroughly that they cannot be undone.
While Death is the peaceful embrace.
It not the excitement one finds in the beginning of an adventure, but rather it is what is found at its end, a place for people who wish to set down their burdens and rest their weary bones. And once Death has its grip on you, there will be nothing left. There is no joy, no laughter, but neither is there suffering, or pain, or hurt, or hate, just an endless peaceful slumber.
Where life could be unfair, favoring some above others, Death treated all equally unfairly. Allowing none to escape its embrace, all will be reunited in Death and thus made equal. To him, it was how he showed his love to them.
Which is why he could not have known, when he accepted the gift of Life, how painful it would be to live.
Still, he could not bring her to hate her for it. Rather, he was ever thankful.
For all the she meant it to be a curse, he had never seen it that way. For all the pain he suffered, he had experienced love. For the betrayals he endured, he learned of friendship. For the hardships, he had been given wonders unknown.
Death loved Life, always and forevermore, and will always be grateful to her for the gift of being born – to be allowed to live.
"You know," Harry said, "I can go back to how I once was, to what I used to before Life gave me this body. I can go back to existence without any pain or suffering."
Miya gave him a curious look and asked, "Then why don't you?
"Because living is worth it." He said simply, turning to look at her. "Besides."
The smile he gave her then, was something she would remember till the end of her days. So bright, kind, yet so heartbreakingly weary.
"I'm already used to it."
Now alone on the porch overlooking the garden, Miya haven gone to join the others inside, Harry remained seated and stared up at the moon, appreciating its beauty. Lowering his pipe, he gently puffed out another cloud of smoke and allowed the cool spring air carry it away.
Behind him, laughter could be heard pouring out from the open doors, letting warm light spill out of the house and into the garden.
He remained seated there on the edge of the porch, shoulder leaning on one post, legs dangling over the edge of, pipe resting on his lap, just enjoying the ambiance of the night.
A single snowflake drifted down from overhead, landing softly on the side of his pipe.
Harry didn't move at the odd sight and remained as he was, even as his breath began to mist he remained seated, staring into sky.
A second snowflake appeared, every bit as white as the fist, falling to join its sibling on his lap. It was soon followed by another, this time to land on a blade of grass by his feet.
Slow and steady snow drifted down from the clear night sky. A downpour of white feathers, falling so gentle as they swayed in the air, rising in every growing numbers, until they blanketed the green ground in white and still more continued to fall.
Harry, still looking up at the sky, spoke.
"Well, are you coming in?"
There was no answer.
That was should have come as no surprise, as there was no in the garden with him.
Still, he patiently waited for a reply.
The seconds passed, with more snowflakes falling down from the heavens, when Harry released a tired sigh.
"Well then." Pushing himself off the porch he stood, rising to his full height. Without another word he walked forward, snow covered ground crunching under his feet with ever step.
He didn't go far to find her, barely a few paces before he stopped.
Looking down at the figure, he asked again. "Well, are you coming in or not?"
Sluggishly, she raised her head, grey eyes looking up to him from a blank face.
"...Ah?"
Sitting down on a park bench, leg folded to her chest, with nothing but blood stained lab coat to protect her modesty, she looked more dead than alive. The blank empty expression she wore told the entire story better any words could.
She had been abandoned.
Still, ignoring everything else, Harry asked her for a third time.
"Are you coming in?" Pointing over one shoulder to double doors of the Inn behind him.
Slowly, Akitsu turned her head to look past him, at the open doors of that had not been there a minute ago. Warm coloured light spilled into the path before her, brightening the dark night, bring along
with it the sound of people laughing.
For a moment, a spark of curiosity seemed to fill her grey eye, before it fade to resigned indifference as she lowered her head once more.
"I see." Harry watched her with emerald eyes that seemed to almost glow in the dark. "Would you like to me to kill you then?"
Akitsu lifted her head once more, "...Ah?"
There was no fear in her voice, just a tiredness that seemed to seep into very being.
"You have already given up and are just waiting to die." He explained. "If that is your wish then I will bring an end to your journey as painlessly as I can."
When she did not answer and just stared blankly up at him, he continued. "There is no shame in dying when you can't carry on anymore. Its why people can die in first place, its life's emergency exit, for when things become too much. And if nothing else, I can tell you death will be peaceful. Even if I don't know much of what will happens after, at least I can promise you this; if you die today, then from now until the end of time end itself I will remain by your side, watching over and make sure your slumber is undisturbed. No one will ever hurt you again."
He paused.
"But you will be leaving him alone."
"...Him?"
"Your Ashikabi."
Akitsu head snapped up, and for the first time something resembling life could be seen in her eyes.
"…Ah, I am broken." Just saying the word seemed to sap what little life returned to her, her head dipping once more. "I do not have an-"
"You do." Cutting her off, the conviction in his tone forcing her to look back at him. "Every Sekirei is born with one. You only can't find him. Without your wings, broken bird, you can't fly to him like the others can.
"But that does not mean he is not there."
Akitsu contained to stare up to him, and he matched her gaze, unwilling to look away. But before long she looked away in shame.
"...I can't be winged..." She admitted, and even that confession seemed to spa more out of her.
"That's right, you cannot." Harry nodded. "I am the End, I know of the passing of all things. I am its passing. Both of the living, and even of what may be. Once something is broken, it cannot be returned to exactly as how it was. And the future you once had, that you may be winged, has been snuffed out. That future has been forever barred from you, and nothing you can do will change it. You, Akitsu, will never be winged." Death declared with finality.
It then cocked his head at her. "…So what?"
The Scrapped Number who felt whatever embers of hope she had still carried crushed at his words, could not understand what he meant by the question.
"...I can't be winged." To her, it was all that mattered.
"Again, so what?" He repeated, eyes blazing green. "He his your Ashikabi, he is still there. Trust me, if died I would know. He's still alive and out here. So why aren't you looking for him?"
"...Ah, but I am Broken...why would he want me?
"Why wouldn't he?" Harry countered, "He is your Ashikabi."
Seeing nothing by confusion, he explained to the flightless bird. "Would you throw your Ashikabi away, just because he was broken? If I brought him to you here and now, trapped in a wheelchair, would you not want him? Or will you throw him away instead because he had no legs to stand on?"
Akitsu stared at him for a long time before she slowly shook her head. Somehow, despite the sluggishness of the action, she made it seem emphatic.
"Then why, I wonder, do you think your Ashikabi would not do the same for you? He is your destined one, the one suited perfectly for you, surely his answer will be the same as your own."
"...It makes no different." The Scrapped Number said. "...Even if he would accept me...I am broken. I cannot fly. Without my wings... I cannot find him."
"That is true." Harry admitted. "Without wings, it become almost impossibly difficult to find him. And I can't give you wings."
Once something dies, it can never return. Not even Death can do otherwise.
That spark, the potential to take flight, was ever lost from her.
"But you still have your feet don't you?" Harry pointed to said legs, folded up to her chest from where she sat on the bench. "Even a bird with broken wings can still walk."
Akitsu stared at her feet blankly, as if seeing them for the first time.
"They say God made people in pairs, so that we would never be lonely." Turning his eyes to the heavens Harry searched the starry night sky, ignoring the snow the continued to fall from the darkness. "I was not sure I believed that, even after everything I've seen. That is until I met you Sekirei. If there ever was such a perfect pair, a match made in heaven, then it is you Sekirei and your Ashikabi. I've seen the happiness your kind bring to your destined ones, felt it, and in doing so I can't help but believe you two were literally made for one another. A perfect match. Sekirei are born for their Ashikabi, and if you have been born then that means your were born for him – whoever he maybe."
Lowering his eyes to wingless bird, who was watching him unblinkingly, he said. "So what would happen to him, should you die? He will live alone, never finding his destined one. Forever searching for someone who no longer exists."
There was a pause as Akitsu said nothing and Harry sighed sadly. "Humans, they are not meant to be alone. They are always looking for companionship, without it they'll surely die. And without you, his Sekirei, he will never find what he is looking. He'll live till the end of his days incomplete, ignorant, never getting the chance to even understand what he had unknowingly lost."
Once again his unblinkingly emerald eyes was locked into her own.
"So to you, wingless Sekirei of Ice, I ask you once again. Knowing that would you forever be leaving your promised one to search endlessly for his other half, never knowing that she is already gone, leaving alone.
"Do you still wish to die?"
Dying is easy. It is living that is so very hard. He should know.
"…Ah." Tear drops, freezing as they fell down her cheeks. "...Sorry..."
Somehow, Harry knew she wasn't talking to him.
"Its scary isn't it? The uncertainty?" He asked, not unkindly. "Knowing that though your fated one is out there, there is a chance you may never find him no matter how hard you look. To never even set yours eyes on him. That you may pass him down the street and never know he was there. But still, you drag yourself forward anyway for that tiny glimmer of hope? That feeling, its what it means to live.
"So stand, you're not dead yet.
"You still have a chance of finding your Ashikabi, even if it means to crawl on the ground while others fly above you."
He held out his hand to the crying Sekirei.
"Come," he said, "let's start looking. It will be a long journey, and I can't promise you will ever reach its end, but for the chance to find him, is it not worth it?"
Akitsu looked up at the man, his form outlined by the light spilling from Inn behind him.
And, hesitantly, she reached out to take his hand.
Pulling her to her feet, Harry gentle led for the first couple of steps to the inn before he allowed her to walk before him. Reaching out to her shoulder he gave her a gentle push towards the open door, just as another wave of laughter could be heard coming from the inside.
Watching her, as she took one unsteady step forward after another, almost falling at one time before she regained her balance and continued on, he could not help but smile.
It is not only Sekirei, it is the same for everyone.
We are all looking for someone, afraid that we may never find them.
But so long a we keep trying.
There will always be a chance, for our own happy ending.
And that is enough to keep us going.
Watching as she stepped into the inn, disappearing in the light, Harry stopped before he could follow her. Tilting his head back he looked to the sky, falling snow flakes slowly beginning to fade, and stared at the stars shining ever bright.
And he prayed.
May she one day find her Ashikabi.
*Chapter End*