Whole
By Emelyn
The great house was as quiet as it was empty, and it had been so all day. It sat on its ancient foundations (upon which were much more modern trappings), without rousing any sort of suspicion to a passerby except perhaps an impression of calm dignity. Someone passing by on their way to the Durem old quarter might only look up at the manor and think that this was the home of some retired, wealthy merchant who perhaps wished to retreat from society and bury themselves in the depths of such a respectable old house. However, for all its dignified splendor, it only managed to maintain itself as such during those few hours in the day when its inhabitants were off and about. For as soon as its family was back in residence, the home became the stage for an endless play of any emotion but quiet decorum.
A pair of antique-ers were having those same notions of the house and its likely inhabitants being dashed, as they stood across the street and gawped at the three who were making their way up the walk. Actually, their eyes lolled at just one out of the three who headed towards the double doors- and at the most prominent.
She walked with authority behind a young child, who was leaping about and laughing as a silver fox darted between his legs, and she smiled very faintly at what was obviously an old game between the two. She seemed to mostly be thinking of something else as she ran her fingers, tipped in extended nails, through a mass of a dewy lavender hair. (It seemed almost, the second man remarked upon seeing the afternoon rose light strike her, completely devoid of color.) She had ears and a tail that would have been an identical hue, if not for the slight silver undertone that glimmered as she flicked them absently as she walked. Even from their poor-perspective vantage point, the men knew that this was a devastatingly beautiful woman. Not that they were connoisseurs of this type of matchless beauty- the only women they were familiar with were the squat, rounded denizens of the antique shops they frequented, or perhaps of the flat-muscled, wiry ship dock loaders that they saw in the Durem pubs. This type of creature needed no formal introduction as unique- she walked with a swaying, decisive movement that displayed one shapely leg after another as her hips rolled them into place, and her wavy form clung to her clothes as if they were liquid. She didn’t see the men or the steadfast direction of their eyes- but if she had, she wouldn’t have been surprised by their attention. She’d learned to absorb every stunned, hungry, or worshiping stare as a compliment, and then to train her thought away from it. If she hadn’t taught herself such a valuable mindset, she doubted she’d be able to walk three feet from her doorway with any sort of comfort or ease. Instead, she was proud of her beauty in a calm, easy way, and treated it to as many pretty baubles and attentions as it desired- a reward, if you will, for its unwavering loyalty and enrichment to her life.
The boy she was with had reached the door, and when he pushed through to the inside, the platinum silver fox that had been weaving about his heels paused and instead waited for the woman to reach the great double doors that led into the manor. It rubbed up against her leg in one long, arching movement, until its tail caressed the underside of her thigh. Then the two followed the boy- and disappeared as the men both shared the same thought: that either of them would have given up years of their lives to have been that fox in that instant. Then she was gone, and the men went along their way, dragging their cart of antiques.
* * *
Kamiki had spent her morning so buried in paperwork that she hadn’t even known that it was raining- she had a beautiful set of double windows across from the couch in her office, but never a moment to look up. To complete the workday, her afternoon had been consumed with an appointment in the clinic. The couple’s unbound excitement and the glow that always seemed to accompany a pregnancy had almost been enough to lift her spirits, but the day had just ended on such a downbeat note.
“Mom? Mom, you haven’t even been listening to me.”
Kamiki rubbed her forehead, the edges of her fingers grazing the cold cobalt jewel that was lodged there. It seemed the only thing on her that wasn’t raging with heat- her headache was rampant.
“I’m sorry, Gavin. What were you saying?”
Her son grinned at getting his mother’s attention. A small part of him realized that she seemed…strained, and a little down, but that awareness was buried beneath the child-like joy in achieving the reaction he’d suddenly decided he needed. In the excitement of the moment, he’d forgotten Simon, who’d gone from a yipping, playful fox playmate to an alert guardian, resting on his silver haunches on the landing above. He didn’t seem to be offended by his young charge’s sudden change of attention, as he waited for any signal- no matter how minute.
Gavin moved from the foot of the stairs that led up from the main foyer, and handed his mother the tissue wrapped package he had in his hand. “You didn’t take this, before.”
Kamiki
wrapped her fingers around the palm-sized package, and scratched at the tissue
with her long, violet-painted nails. She’d done it absently, but the thin
tissue couldn’t withstand even a casual graze of a kitsune’s thick nails. The flimsy material curled back, and a bright
white crystal was exposed in four long strips.
She’d seen it unwrapped, as well- when Gavin had first showed it to her
after she got out of the clinic. He’d picked it up when Simon had taken him
shopping on
“Just go and put it up in her room, honey, alright?” She said, biting down on her tongue as if it would keep any of her emotions from surfacing.
Her son leapt over in his regular agile, quick fashion, and captured the crystal. His eyes were on his mother as he did so, watching for her reactions, probing her violet eyes for a sense of the emotions he’d invoked.
His mother had given him some gold that morning upon his wheedling and pleading, under the conditions that he shop only with Simon at his side and stayed out of the Chatter Sector. Beggars flocked to the narrow alleys and ramshackle buildings of the Chatter Sector, and made the streets even thinner with their pressing, noobish need to descend upon anyone who chanced by. Kamiki had no doubt that her son, who was beginning to come into his anju heritage, and especially with the protection of her long-time friend and confidant Simon, could take care of himself… but she still had a not-so-quiet dislike for the entire district. She hated its dirty streets and dilapidated housing- and had only bitter disapproval for anyone who made their living off of begging. The ‘world owes me a living’ mentality had never crossed Kamiki’s mind. When she first arrived in Gaia, she’d been penniless and alone, but never once had she stooped to relying on others to make her way, and now she was a wealthy, successful businesswoman and mother- and she was as proud of the climb to reach that status as she was of being there.
Gavin had no desire to enter the Sector, anyway- his curiosity did not reach to the ill-off, as he’d never had any experience with this sort of life. He’d been born in opulence, and had inherited his mother’s sense of style and taste (along with his father’s fascination for the unique and splendid), and he didn’t know of any other way of life. He’d gone shopping that morning, however, not out of curiosity, but out of a mixture of boredom (he tired quickly of sitting in his mother’s office on her couch, or being shooed around the clinic for being in the way), and a desire to put into action a clever, very mischievous plan that he’d been hatching.
He’d taken the money that his mother had given him, and instead of spending it on something for himself, he instead made a sort of sacrifice of the gold, and bought something for someone else. It was his design that this would show his mother a side of his kindness and generosity- and thereby encourage her to give him more spending money on a regular basis. He was clever enough to understand that this one forfeit of an afternoon of self-pleasure would merit him a more merry future. …That he’d found something for his sister was a special, separate opportunity. He’d originally planned that it could be something for anyone (except for Simon, who had little use for possessions, and who always seemed to see through his young ward’s schemes), but as soon as he’d seen the crystals in the window of a small store near the Sarcastic Kitty Shop, a new facet of his mischievous mind emerged.
Gavin had a special fondness for…cause and effect. He’d inherited a methodical, inquisitive mind from his father, and where Sabin was enthralled with understanding how things worked, his son was instead turned to fascination with how people felt. He’d long noticed that his mother was suppressing her feelings about PurrPurr’s absence, and his curiosity at those emotions overshadowed any sense he had for how it was affecting her. He wasn’t by any means an evil child, nor an uncaring one- it just wasn’t the first time that his mixed heritage drove him to desire to understand and control, and also to forget that his desires weren’t always the most important. Buying the crystal and showing it to his mother would achieve the dual effect of a subtle manipulation for more pocket money… and to draw forth a wave of reactions at having Purr brought up. He hadn’t had many excuses to do so… not since they’d moved into the Durem house, and he’d gotten a good week’s worth of emotions out of his mother by complaining that she’d set up a room for Purr, when she wouldn’t have even known that they’d moved. Since then, the room had remained, beautifully set up with her salvaged possessions from the old house, a silent and sad reminder that there was…something missing.
Gavin watched his mother as silent thoughts crossed her eyes, but once it was clear she wasn’t going to give him anything other than her silent countenance, he turned and bolted, oblivious of the state he was leaving her. Simon rose up off his haunches and stretched, the studs on his leather anklets clicking against the stairs. He readied to follow Gavin up the steps as the swift youngster took them two at a time, but paused when he saw that Kamiki had put one hand on the banister, as if to steady herself, and that her other hand paused in the air before her lips, shaking in such a slight manner that he doubted eyes any less sharp than his own would have been able to notice. He made to leap down to sit at her feet, but Gavin, unaware of anything going on beneath him, called to his friend and babysitter to follow. Simon took another single moment to wish that something that beautiful… would never know sorrow, and then he turned on his platinum-silver paws to follow.
With Gavin upstairs, the house seemed almost empty again. His room was on the top story, and even he wasn’t able to make enough noise to penetrate all the layers of the manor to reach Kamiki’s ears.
The silence, which would have usually been welcome to the overworked Kamiki, tonight fell heavily on her. She didn’t want to drag up any of the emotions of the circumstance of the…lack of her daughter, but she found it difficult in the thick, lonely peace. It’s difficult to be left alone with ones own thoughts, when you want nothing more than to not think them.
She found herself moving slowly through the foyer to the inner chambers of the manor- each step seemed to languish after the next, and her pace was deliberate and deteriorating. She could have sped through the house in a very unhuman way, had she even the slightest inkling- but tonight, it seemed to help to focus her thoughts on sabotaging her stride.
The inner rooms on the first floor were mostly Sabin’s, although the numerous boxes and empty spaces on the walls were sign of their steady transition to belonging to “the family”. The first floor seemed to be the last to undergo the conversion- rooms on the upper levels had long since been turned into rooms for Kamiki’s adopted children and wards- and the wing where she and Sabin resided together was thoroughly infected with her things. Her wardrobe alone took up a room that was previously a secondary library Sabin had used to keep his language tomes. (She’d felt a little badly, however, ousting the one thing that Sabin was materialistic about- it seemed his books were the only thing he owned that he truly cared for.) Her furniture, too, dotted rooms all over the estate- there was a Victorian lounging couch that used to be in her sitting room, she noted, coming into the main library. It gave her comfort to see that it was beginning to look like her home, as well. …It had been her and Sabin’s joint decision to move in together, and she certainly wasn’t having second thoughts. It had been mostly for Gavin’s sake, rather than for their own- they’d never felt that their long-standing love affair needed the validation of cohabitation. It was just difficult, sometimes, to feel like she was walking through something that still wasn’t entirely her own. Having her things around her- like her oil painting of Gambino over the library fireplace, and the silver candlesticks on the mantle that used to be in the dining room of her Gambino home, helped. Although tonight, she found, being reminded of the house just made her think of PurrPurr, again. She still couldn’t help but feel like she’d abandoned her wayward child. Moving away felt like the last admittance that she was giving up on Purr coming home.
“Oh,” she breathed- a defeat in its own right. She sunk to the lounging couch and wrapped her tail around her- an unconscious sign of her need to be comforted.
* * *
The sun was almost set before Sabin arrived home- and was completely so before he finished with his business in the stables. He’d brought a pard to his class that day, after a spirited off-topic discussion the day before had set him on the subject of that particular fixation of his: the study of unique and powerful beasts. Creante hadn’t been his first choice to bring before the class, but that morning when he’d gone into the Keep, the beautiful black pard had just seemed so majestic and befitting of its name- fear- that he couldn’t help but share the beautiful monster. He would have been home long before such a late hour, if it weren’t for the transport of Creante back and forth. He loved all his animals dearly, and they him- but there was always a… slight edge that any beast developed when it was around Sabin. It was a slightly subdued effect when the creature itself was a magical one- and his Keep abounded with griffins and verlashis of which this was the case- but Sabin had long accepted the fact that the innate animal sense they possessed would allow them to know that there was something… off, about their owner.
Sabin saw
to it that his servants took care of the tired pard, of which he was
particularly fond (it had been a gift from Kamiki) before he went into the
house. It had been a long day for him,
as well, although he felt refreshed and contented when he walked through the
doors. The thick silence didn’t press on
him as it did for Kamiki, as his day had been a joyous long one. The only thing that fatigued him was the fact
that he was unaccustomed to being garbed in his work clothes at so late an
hour. On a regular day, he would have changed into his regular, eclectic (and
Kamiki would say dubious) style- antique and dark, and out of his university
clothing. Today, it was black slacks,
vest, and a green pullover- the sleeves of which he’d rolled up
“Kamiki?” He called, his voice deceptively strong for his frame. Coming home after a full day, there wasn’t much else he wanted to do but talk with her. It was quite possibly the best part of their living together, he thought. Having her here with him almost eliminated his wandering instinct, his need to not stay too long in one place. Living here with her was more ‘home’ than he’d had in a long time.
After calling to her, he shifted into the shadows and moved along the walls to find her. It was part of his nature to move this way, as shadows had always held a certain comfort for him- they were a part of him, as the force of spirit was a part of Kamiki. Moving this way, and equipped with precisely honed hearing, it wasn’t long before he came upon her- still curled up on the settee in the library. His movement was liquid, and so silent it almost didn’t exist, as he stepped from the shadows to come up behind the couch.
“Hello, lover.”
She started despite herself, and then calmed at the sound of the familiar, French-lilted voice. She tilted her head back until it touched his form, and sighed with an unreadable air. She didn’t look back at the man who she knew was probably pleased with having successfully startled her. It was enough that she knew he was there, and that his loving touch would soon follow.
She wasn’t disappointed- Sabin ran his hands through her hair, gently, so as not to scratch her with his elongated, pointed fingernails. He had already been in a high mood, but having incited even the slightest scare elevated it even further. He bowed at the stomach, an old habit, and kissed Kamiki between her lavender silver ears. She responded by turning to him and rising up to her knees on the settee. She wrapped her arms around his torso, and buried her head in his front, a button pressing into her cheek, through the fabric.
Sabin didn’t entirely understand the subtext in Kamiki’s actions. …He was extremely sharp mentally- however, his past had left him with somewhat of a blank for being able to read others emotionally. His keen perception didn’t ever seem to be able to penetrate the many nuances of his lover. So he didn’t comprehend the emotionally vulnerable aura that Kamiki was giving off- that her tail was still wrapped around her, or that her skin seemed desperate to blend into his as she embraced him. However, he loved her more than anything in the world, and didn’t need to read her every emotion to sweep her up in his arms and carry her up the stairs to their chamber. She didn’t resist in the slightest- but instead grasped at him and let herself be nestled in his arms- it was effortless for both, to combine this way. Kamiki wrapped her arm around him and dropped her head against his chest, safe and sheltered. Neither of them noticed a head poking out from the upper landing- and two curious, impish eyes-one red…and one purple.
* * *
Simon waited in Gavin’s room for the boy to return, his hands on his outstretched knees. He absently rubbed the flesh on his own thighs, as he was, as always, a little perplexed by how different it felt from when he was in fox form. He thought he’d never cease to marvel at how deft and amazingly sensitive human hands were- he’d long since decided that the sense of touch was the only heightened sense that humans possessed- it was the only sensation that couldn’t be equaled or rivaled while he was an animal. Even the leather bracers that he wore felt different upon the mostly hairless human skin, and he turned his head to allow his collar to rub against the soft, pale flesh of his neck- which was a distinct departure from its rub against the thick scruff on his fox neckline. He didn’t take on human form enough, he decided, and he hunched over, still in a fox-like sitting pose, on Gavin’s bed. This time, he’d only transformed for the boy, who’d wanted to play a game that required he had opposable thumbs. …Which was another wonder, Simon decided, wiggling the dexterous digits where they sat on the coverlet.
Gavin’d left a number of minutes before, to fetch the missing game pieces from the downstairs playroom. Simon didn’t feel the need to be the boy’s shadow in their own home, so he’d decided to wait there until his return. However, it was taking longer than he’d thought, so he rose to go after Gavin.
He hadn’t but risen up to his full, lithe form, when the boy came back into the room. There was a smile on his face, and his hands were clasped behind his back. Simon arched his silvery eyebrow- a tone that was only a shade darker than his flowing hair- at Gavin. He didn’t need to ask where the game pieces were- his gesture was enough to make Gavin shrug.
“I couldn’t find them in the playroom. But I remembered that Mom last played the game!” Then he fell silent as the two stared at each other for a stroke of moments. Gavin beamed a small, darling smile and shrugged his shoulders. “Go find them?” He said, a mixture between a sort of command and puckish request. “Go find Mom?”
Simon might have been suspicious at this turn of events, if not for that final statement. It was, all at once, a sort of invitation for him to be in Kamiki’s company. That was enough to push aside his normally astute ability to read his juvenile playmate, and to drop to all fours without a word. He might not have gone if he’d known that Gavin’s overall cause was to send him into the presence of Kamiki and Sabin, together in the throes of passion, to see what his friend’s reaction would be. …Then again, he might have. Simon was, if not blinded, at least… in the presence of a foggy state of mind, where his mistress was concerned.
Gavin’s grin spread, enhancing his delicate, almost beautiful features. As a student of even the minutest reactions, he’d always noticed his friend’s change when they were around his mother, and the negative response Simon always had to Sabin. So when he’d seen his parents together in such a tender, compassionate moment, already armed with the curiosity of the day- he couldn’t help but set up his own little experiment. His grin continued to shine as he watched Simon transition to his familiar fox form, a sight he’d been intimately familiar with since his birth. …The silvery fur rippled up behind a series of shudder-inducing goosebumps that coursed over Simon’s body until he was covered in a snowy down. There was a liquidy crunch that signaled the transition of his insides, organs shrinking and shifting, and bones spinning to accommodate the modifications. His hands and feet curled under, and the downy fur sprung up into an all-pervasive, shaggy ruff that, Gavin always regretted to see, covered the majority of the remainder of the transition. The last change he could really distinguish, under all that fur, was the elongation of the nose, and how his icy blue eyes shifted and, in a blink, had become feral.
Simon shook his fur out, a common reaction to the transformation- and then darted out of the room without looking back at Gavin. If he had, he would have seen the boy sit on one of his many chests of toys and smile with a knowing, elfin smile.
The door to Sabin and Kamiki’s chambers was only slightly ajar, so Simon had to nose through the crack, and wriggle his tense body past the sizeable mahogany door. It wasn’t his first destination in his search- after Gavin sent him off, he’d run through the house, looking in the arboretum and the library, the music room and the art gallery, to name a few. He didn’t know, but enough time had passed from when Sabin carried Kamiki up to their chambers that the two had released each other from the throes of passion. So instead, he came across not a couple in the midst of love, but one that had pulled apart and were getting ready for bed. It would seem a fortunate thing, to spare Simon’s feelings- but instead, it was almost as bad for the poor beast, who stood, cloaked in the shadow of an immense chest of drawers. For he could smell the sweat that still hung in the air, and could almost taste pungent aroma of the pheromones that the post-coital Kamiki was still emitting. He knew exactly what had transpired here just minutes before, and it ate at him, and caused his silver ears to droop in despair.
Simon had been in love with her since the moment their fates had crossed paths- and he considered himself saved, physically and spiritually, by her grace of soul and her compassion. She was beautiful beyond her perfect form…matchless and rare unlike anything else in the world. She’d once told him that he was, in a way, her soul mate. He’d clutched onto that as his reason for being, and more than once he’d clung to it to keep his heart whole through times like this- when she was obviously with Sabin, instead of with him. Not a small part of him distrusted and despised this man Kamiki loved- he didn’t believe that his love for her was pure, and he certainly didn’t entertain an inkling of a thought that Sabin could possibly love her as much as he did. He knew that he cherished Kamiki in either form he existed in- as a fox or as a man- but felt that she was cheated by Sabin, as his dual form did not lead him to be able to be with her in all his manifestations. He had no doubt that he would have disliked any man Kamiki found herself with- but something about Sabin Duvert…felt sour, and curdled to Simon, and not a small part of it was his instinctive, animalistic fear of the anju that was wrapped around Sabin’s soul.
Gavin and his errand were forgotten as Simon crawled beneath the chest of drawers and became just another shadow in the room. He slowed his breathing and kept his eyes locked on Kamiki, who was stretched out on the bed, her mocha skin a sultry cream in the blue-grey light. He wished his sharp eyesight would betray him, for once- so as to not allow him to be so aware of Sabin’s every moment as well. But even with his eyes focused only on the vixen on the bed, Simon knew from the corner of his non-discriminating vision that Sabin was rifling through his desk. And it enraged him- because he could see the expression on Kamiki’s face, even through the dark- it was distressed, and heartbreaking. It wasn’t lost on him the reason- he was as perceptive to emotions as Sabin was oblivious- and hadn’t he been there when Gavin played his mind-game on his mother? It was about Purr, and about a loneliness, an incompleteness, that should have been addressed by the man who supposedly loves her, Simon thought, his eyes slitting in the dark and his canines thrashing as silently as he could muster without alerting the amazing hearing of Sabin. Someone should be comforting her, his mind screamed- he should see that she’s vulnerable and alone.
Every moment that Sabin didn’t rush to the bed and hold her in his arms, and every second that he continued to rifle through his roll-back desk, Simon’s rage increased. By the time Kamiki had drifted to sleep, a red wall of fury had built up in front of Simon’s vision. With sleep, Kamiki’s furrowed brows had eased and she seemed to be at peace, but Simon didn’t see- as his sight was now fixed on this hated man. He wished he were a match for the demonic hybrid- but he knew that Sabin could rip him into shreds in an instant, and down him with no less ease than the bloody, raw meat of which he was so fond. Instead, he just watched as the half-anju pulled a leather bound journal from a drawer. Simon recognized it as one of Sabin’s many chronicles of the fascinating and the magical- he was an avid diarist, and kept furious notations of anything that piqued his eclectic interest. Tonight, it just enflamed Simon further that Sabin was capable of writing when Kamiki was laying alone on their massive bed, curled up unto herself as if her own skin was the only consolation she could find. But although Sabin opened the book, Simon was surprised by the fact that he didn’t write a word. Neither did he read, or peruse the pages, looking for one of his many sketches. He just sat, staring at something on the page, his bare torso framed in the moonlight. He was etched with various scars- a jagged gash crept its way across his stomach, and three parallel claw marks snaked down his left front shoulder. They were discolored and almost glowing in the pale, shallow darkness, and they seemed so unreal that it was almost surprising that they moved with him, scores on the taut, ashen muscles.
He stayed this way, his eyes glazed over as if staring beyond the pages, for a handful of breathless moments while Simon watched- until Sabin suddenly turned to face…Kamiki. He stared upon her sleeping face, then nodded to himself and flipped all the pages of the journal to its front, so what remained gazing back at him was the last page and the leather backing. Then he took one of his pointed fingernails- they were almost more like claws, Simon irreverently decided- and peeled up a section of the leather from the inside back cover. It came up without argument to reveal a folded square of something that had been flattened into this hidden space. Simon couldn’t make out what it was until Sabin unfolded the square to reveal a handful of pages, ancient and brittle, forever creased into its folds. Sabin lay them on the table and brushed his hands against them, reading them with a quick ease- his night vision was impeccable, and would have been able to spot as little as a fly’s wing in impenetrable dark. He seemed to read them over again, and fingered their delicate edges with a care Simon seethed to think was owed to Kamiki. Then Sabin licked the nib of one of his quills- an old affectation- and dipped it in a round-bellied pot of ink that sat on the desk. The quill hovered over the paper for a moment, and then descended to scribble a note on one of the pages. He paused a moment, deciding… then wrote two last words, slowly this time, each curl of a letter causing the feather to bob in the air. The quill was replaced and Sabin sat for what seemed like an age, staring again at something beyond the pages. Then, without warning, he folded the pages back up again and returned them to their sanctuary between the two skinned bits of leather. Sabin placed the diary back in the drawer and rubbed his hands across his face, hiding whatever expression was beneath. Simon was breathless and completely silent as Sabin fell onto the bed and curled up next to Kamiki. He’d been planning to use this moment to creep back out of the room… but that was before whatever had transpired between Sabin and that journal. He waited, instead, silent in the dark, for Sabin to join Kamiki in sleep- and even when a sizeable amount of time had passed, he still took pause, just to make sure. For although he could make certain that Kamiki was asleep from the pattern of her telltale, even breaths, Sabin and his breathless slumber was undistinguishable.
When he felt enough time had passed, Simon snaked his way out from underneath the bureau. He debated transforming into his human form in the hall, but there was enough room there in the entranceway, and he doubted what little noise he made during transitions would awaken the sleeping duo. To be on the safe side, however, he held his breath and kept a steady eye on the bed. Once his eyes transitioned, he found himself plunged into a darker world- his night vision was still nowhere as poor as a normal human, but a great deal of his nocturnal fox sight was transformed into a flat, dark world.
The unclothed, beautifully nimble body stole across the room, and he extended his human hand to pull the drawer open- quietly as possible- and retrieve the journal he’d seen Sabin with. It was more difficult for him to peel up the leather in the back than he’d thought it would be, but it wasn’t long before the flap was laid down flat on the table, and the pages were uncovered. He was careful with their handling, but held them in a tight fist as he rushed them out to the hallway where he’d have light enough to make out their secret.
To his woe, the first words his eyes alighted upon were in Latin. He scrolled the rest of the page, hoping that an understandable word would jump out at him- and was overjoyed to see that the text transitioned into what appeared to be a smooth French- and then English, which he understood much easier. Even with the readable language, however, he had the hardest time making out what any of it was about- the words ran into each other with the liquid ability that only a stream of consciousness could do … “it’s as if to be back in Chesmire, a damned day where boredom falls all around and drives a sane soul to habitate a tavern,” or “I couldn’t accept the shreds of dignity Edmund offered, not when there was a feast waiting,”… it seemed to Simon to be pages out of a diary, more than anything else. And it wasn’t the writer’s words that turned him on to their identity- but instead, the untidy script that filled in the edges and margins.
“My dearest Samantha- were that I had more of your words.” … “A part of me thinks I shall be a widow in my heart, all my years.” And then the newest one, written on the last page, beneath the last line: “I will always love you. …My wife.” The pages were salvaged from a diary of Sabin’s long-departed wife, and the scrawls in every corner were wretched missives of a widow’s heart. In any other circumstance, Simon’s heart would have swelled, and pity would have moved him to understand… but no part of his soul could forgive what he considered a trespass on the love of Kamiki. This was, to his eye, as unfaithful and unforgivable as a present-day affair. Any reason or compassion he might have had was blinded by his rage. Here he was, willing to devote his life to Kamiki, and to love her quietly and from afar, as long as that was what she wished. He was prepared to give her any attentions and devotion that she needed or wanted, without even a promise of that love being returned. And here the man she did love, Simon fumed, cast her aside and instead chose to love… a dead woman! He fell to his knees and dropped the pages to the ground as he did so- he buried his face in his hands and sobbed- something else, he desolately made note of, which he could only do in this form. His heart ached, and he wished more than ever that he could rid Kamiki of what he was assured was a false love. At least he could destroy something that had come between them, he thought. He thought of it as some small consolation, and a sort of destruction in effigy, as he prepared to tear the pages to shreds… but in that instant, the wish resounded in his mind… to rid Kamiki of a false love… and he scooped up the pages without harming them.
Tears still streamed down his face as he ran through the corridor, but his eyes were lit with a grim determination. By now, it was well past the hour that servants would be up and about, so he was assured quick and anonymous passage down the beautiful hall. His bare feet pounded on the carpet with a dim thud and then smacked at the wood floor of the room he’d ducked into- Kamiki’s wardrobe room.
He’d never seen her collection assembled here, in the new house, and he stopped, despite himself or his cause, to marvel at how extensive her possessions were. Kamiki’s walk-in closet in the Gambino home (which was comprised of four small rooms and a revolving case) seemed like a rabbit warren compared to the veritable museum display that this room offered Kamiki’s things. All manners of fabrics and colors stared out at him- although a predominant wave of purple hues leapt to the eye. Her shoes and belts had separate, rotating stands, arranged by color and expense- and her purses and hats had an entire side-plot of their own.
This wasn’t what he was after, however, and he cast his eyes around for the familiar glint of silver- Kamiki’s jewelry. It wasn’t hard to find, as it was all encased in glass in the far corner of the room.
Mauve velvet lined the insides of the cases, which were adorned with locks that had never been used. The glass tops would lift, silent on their well-oiled hinges, at the slightest provocation, and allow Kamiki to choose from a sea of silver and gems. There were bangles, arm bands, rings and brooches- earrings and delicate chains in sizes to match any part of Kamiki’s body- from her tantalizing midriff to her delicate ankle- and any other manner of bauble or jewelry that could be imagined. The newest edition, a jeweled crown inlaid with rubies and circled with red velvet, had just been purchased at the new casino, and held a favored position next to a tiara bedecked with wine-colored gems. This case was visited daily by Kamiki, he knew- since he’d almost never seen her without at least several earrings and a bangle or two. He lifted up the lid to a case- and deposited the pages, unfolded and spread across a row of rings he’d often seen her wear. This was a place where Sabin would not tread, and Kamiki surely would. It was the best place, he knew, for a shock he wished he could have prevented her. But he truly believed in his heart that this was the only way. Simon descended the glass top, and backed away from the case, which now held something more precious than his loved one’s ornaments- the chance of her freedom.
* * *
It was
In the course of the night, he’d become entangled in the bedding and now had the difficulty of unwrapping himself from a black and silver sheet that seemed determined to embrace him. Fortunately, he saw, the same had happened to Kamiki- and he marveled to see that she’d not failed to do it yet again- where he looked like a man who’d lost a war with the bed sheets, she managed to appear like a perfectly arranged classical painting. Strips of bare skin gleamed where the silk sheets had fallen, and the curvature of her body peered through even the thickest tangle of covers. Violet hair streamed over the pillow, creating a halo for her sleeping face, and one arm arched over her head to graze the headboard with her fingers. Sabin sat back on the bed, once he’d untangled himself, and let himself be lost in loving her, for a moment. In these quiet moments when there was no one to judge him, and no one to pretend to understand how he felt, Sabin felt at ease, and he felt like he might have found where he belonged. It was a part of his soul that he’d always found…wanting. No matter where he traveled, or what he did, it always seemed like he’d never find his ‘fit’. So many terrible things had happened to him- and over the years he’d searched to understand… why? In his isolation, the answers he supplied to himself were driven by an intense self-loathing, and he shouldered the blame himself… but a part of his psyche knew that there was a hope to answering his question. If he could find out why he existed, and what the meaning of his life was, perhaps he’d have an answer that would put his tormented soul to rest. Sabin was a brilliant man, but as far as his understanding of the relationships that affected him, or the rules of emotions that governed those bonds… he was like a ship sailing through an endless fog, headed with all the best intentions towards what is thought to be the light, but might just as easily be a bay of rocks. He knew he loved Kamiki, and trusted her with such an abandon that would have been dangerous, if she’d not felt the same way in return. But he didn’t always understand the depth of his feelings, and couldn’t pin down exactly what she meant to him- although he sought that, almost as much as he did the reason for his existence.
It was an off-day, which meant no classes and no responsibilities. It was also a rare day in that it was also Kamiki’s day off from the clinic. She’d pushed back all of her appointments to the following week, and unless her pager went off to signal that one of her patients had gone into labor, she’d be free for the day as well. Sabin was excited, because it was the opening day of the storyteller’s festival. The event was only every other year, and took place in the Barton Arena, where countless storytellers would gather together and there would be seven days of fireside celebrations, gypsy trade, and every manner of tale would be regaled with ale and merriment. And Sabin was thoroughly intending to partake in all the forms of festivity, Kamiki at his side for as much as she’d tolerate- except perhaps the ale. His ability to control his dual nature was compromised when he became drunk- and, over time, the loss of restraint had gone beyond the slight ‘incidents’ of the past. Besides, even in the days when he’d been able to rein in his True Form, he’d been a jester of a drunk, for the most part- and would dance about and sing (albeit badly). And so, over the years, he’d fallen into a more comfortable habit of abstaining.
He was at his chest of drawers- an immense bureau that sat just inside the door to their chambers- looking for a leather tie to pull his hair back out of his face with- when he heard a kitten-like yawn and the sound of the silk sheets rubbing up against each other. They were telltale signs that Kamiki had awakened.
“Good morning.”
He heard another yawn. “Is it?”
“Is it what?”
“Morning.” He rounded the corner to see her as she said this last statement, and smiled to note her upright-sitting form… the upper part of the sheet having fallen to the bed.
“I don’t know,” he said, appreciating her with a knowing eye, “but it’s certainly the ‘good’ part.”
“Ha ha, funny funny.” Her arms stretched out, akimbo. She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, comfortable in the feeling of her own skin. “How long have you been up?”
“Not long. I was just starting to get dressed.” He paused, and added as an afterthought, “You should probably put yourself together, too. I don’t even know if Gavin is up.”
“Is he coming with us today?”
“To the festival? I don’t know- I hadn’t planned on it.” Sabin held up two separate shirts up in front of him and faced Kamiki.
She pointed to the one he held in his left hand, he put the other back in his bureau, and the silent transaction was held almost without requiring thought. “Well, if he’d be interested, we can bring Simon along too, and he can watch him. That way he won’t have to stick around us all day.”
Sabin’s face came up out of the collar of the shirt, and it was wrinkled in distaste. “I certainly wasn’t planning that. Maybe it’s best if they just stay here today. If it turns out he’s interested in the festival, you can take him on the last day, when they have the fire-eater demonstrations. Do you have that day off?”
Kamiki rolled her shoulders back up against the headboard, relaxing her muscles, and cocked her head to listen as Sabin spoke. His speech and syntax were impeccable, and his lilt was modern- but he’d never completely lost the last hint of his rolling French accent. She enjoyed listening to him speak as much as he loved watching her sleep- both were expressions of their utter appreciation for one another, almost to the point of a veneration for each others… artistic beauty.
“I don’t know. I have a patient with a due date that day, but you know how that goes.” She ran her fingers through her hair and stretched again, this time to prepare herself to get out of bed. “I…” she said, still stretching, “am going to get dressed. Then I want to find out what Gavin is up to, and we can head off to Barton.” She pulled a deep red lace robe off its hook by the bed and tied the black sash around her waist, drawing it closed with a succinct tug. It only came to mid-thigh, and its neckline dipped into a low, thin V. She slipped into a pair of chickie slippers that peeked out from under the bed, and gave Sabin’s shoulder a kiss on her way out the door.
Their morning routine was more or less staple, with few variations- Kamiki always headed off down the hallway to her wardrobe, while Sabin remained behind in their room to dress. He had an extensive wardrobe, himself- but his could be contained in the two closets and the bureau that were in his chambers, and more often than not, he walked about clothed in garments he’d pulled from only the bureau. He preferred the heavy French antique, somehow, and felt more at home dressing from it than at the more modern trappings of the mirrored closets. However, he kept all his boots and leather trappings in a cabinet that was situated in one of the closets, which he used daily… so he didn’t entirely rebuff his more modern ‘system’.
He’d finished dressing, and was just coming out of the cabinet with a pair of black leather boots newly adorning his feet when a figure appeared, silhouetted in the doorframe. It stood, not calling out or coming in, completely silent and still. He narrowed his eyes and blinked away the shadows, dripping them off the figure until he was sure who it was.
“Kamiki?” As soon as he’d said it- he wondered why. He knew who it was. Perhaps it was just how strangely she was standing there, with such a foreign, unreadable expression on her face, or that he wanted her to speak… but something prickled at the back of his neck.
She started forward, still without a word, and he might have thought she hadn’t heard, if it weren’t for her eyes- those liquid violet eyes- which were fixed on him as if to draw out every drip of his soul. She couldn’t possibly have misheard. And she wasn’t being playful- those steely eyes hid no merriment, and her ears weren’t flattened to her hair without a reason.
Her gait was maddeningly slow and unchanging, and moved as if independent from the rest of her body, which reacted as if it didn’t know she were moving at all. It took forever for her to make the steps across the room to get to Sabin, and she stopped at a set of paces away from him. Then her legs ceased to move, and she lifted her hand up to eye level. For the first time, Sabin saw that she was holding something- a set of folded, antique papers, a yellowed, aging contrast to her russet skin. …There was no pause of recognition, or a need for thought- his mental abilities were still as sharp as ever, and it was a split-second realization that she held the pages of Samantha’s diary.
“Where did you get those?”
“Does it matter?” Her eyes were a remarkable mixture of unbreakable strength and painful defeat, and her reaction would have fascinated him, if he didn’t suddenly feel like control was falling away from him. He grasped to regain it.
“I would think it would.” The statement was meant to be unanswerable. To Kamiki, who was used to his guile and knew him better than any other, it didn’t matter what block he put in her path- she needed to know.
“Sabin,” she said, cutting through his attempt at a stalemate, “what is this?” She held out the papers as if to return them to him- but he made no attempt to take them from her. His eyes became glassy, and she wondered if he could imagine how she felt. …How it had felt to see something in the case, and to find that the spread pages were from the diary of Sabin’s wife. It had made her feel… cheapened, and afraid, and not a little angry. “I will always love you… my wife.” It echoed in her head and made a mockery of her.
He was quiet. She didn’t actually want to know what the pages were, he knew- but instead, what they meant. And in this moment, where he might give her that, he found his tongue was caught by his own brand of…confusion at the situation. Unfortunately, his silence enflamed Kamiki into a flurry of speech.
“How new are these words, Sabin? These things you’ve written- I know it’s your script. …Please tell me that these were written to her, in her time, Sabin.” She couldn’t help but repeat his name, as it pattered through her mind in a million different simultaneous intonations- loving, hateful, afraid… and pleading.
He looked down at her, and swallowed a sigh. His voice was quiet, but resonant. “With a few, the ink has only dried…overnight.”
Comprehension crossed her face in a series of expressions- first, her brows knitted together, as if to draw together understanding- then, they slacked and her lips parted, a tiny, ragged breath escaping them. Her eyes glittered with a sudden well of unshed tears, and then her delicately pained expression steeled into revulsion. Sabin hated to see the hurt in her eyes, and in her features, which were set to despise what he’d done- but even if he’d been able to return to his answer, he would have repeated what he’d said. Nothing in him could abide by lying. Even to save her that sting.
“I was with you all last night.” Her voice was even. It flustered Sabin, but he compensated by matching his composure (or at least its surface) to her voice- even and untainted by emotion.
“You had fallen asleep.”
It fell as a bomb. Kamiki began to shake- she didn’t know if it was for anger or for misery, and knew that she couldn’t control it. She also didn’t try. Instead, she raised a shuddering hand to her face, and flattened her palm against her lips, blocking the frayed breaths from escaping. He was with me, she thought, we made love and then he went directly to…her. She knew he’d been married, and he spoke about Samantha as much as he was comfortable with recounting her to Kamiki- but it had been so long ago. Kamiki hadn’t ever begrudged him the love of his past- but that’s what she’d always considered it. His past. It might as well have been another life- her own shadowy memory of her past life included someone who might have been her husband or lover… but it wasn’t something she thought to be a part of this- her life with Sabin.
“We have a son,” she whispered into her palm- and only Sabin’s acute hearing allowed him to understand what she’d said. “And I… I’ve loved you.”
He moved, finally, towards her. He couldn’t bear seeing her like this, and he moved to comfort her. But in the moment that it took him to shift his weight forward to step nearer to her, her wounded countenance fell to the ground with the weight of a stone, and was replaced by a raw, furious wrath. She leapt towards him, all her speed being employed to tear at him with her claws and scream. He held her off, but the sudden shock of attack caused him to lose what little shreds of control he’d been gripping to.
Kamiki’s fury towards his form was exhausted almost immediately, but not her hurt and anger in general- and, in a mind outside herself, she grasped the pages with her free hand and in a quick jerk, tore them asunder. She crumpled the halves in her taut fists and flung them to the ground. What was normally a cheerful, optimistic person was transformed by a biting rage brought about by her rare… but sharp temper.
“If you’re so determined to lose me,” she spat, almost growling, “then you don’t deserve her, either.”
The instant the pages had been split, and again when they hit the ground, Sabin felt a thump in the pit of his stomach, and he was no longer the master of his emotions. Everyone, once they are beside themselves, act against their standard…but Sabin had something else to contend with- something darker. His living nightmare.
His face darkened, and a cursed shade of red… seemed to bleed into his irises. His mouth opened to a snarl, almost a leer- to show quickly lengthening premolars and canines, and his hair seemed to be swiftly blown away from his face, the ends deserting into a ghostly shadow that moved with a life of its own, licking the air in darts- snake tongues composed only of darkness. Traces of shadow suddenly speared across the wall, and moved in intelligent, quick movements in the corners of the room. He had lost any hold he’d had over his emotions, and could no longer maintain the energy and focus it took to uphold the façade of complete humanity.
Kamiki had seen this transformation before, but it had never come in such poignant circumstance. She had often professed her love to him, knowing what he was and what he was capable of- it was no surprise to see his true form. But in this moment…
“You’re a monster to me.” She said, her voice dripping with a hate untainted by fear- she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
The creature in him raged, and a violent howl echoed through Sabin’s mind. It took all of his power to string together the human aspects of his nature, and not to let that screech out. Without a sound, he grabbed a shadow that was, in essence, a piece of his being, and was gone from her sight.
Kamiki walked to the bed, alone in a room that was only beginning to regain the light that had been swallowed by the shadows… and collapsed into the disheveled covers, consumed with sobs.
* * *
Simon had been unable to sleep after what had gone on the night before, and instead had sat in a window in an upstairs hallway, watching a brief rain shower that had erupted in the night. The pavement shone like silver and the streetlights glowed, bright contrasts to the pinpoints of starlight that were hidden by the rain. There he’d sat while the night ended, and he was there when the sun rose up behind the hills in subdued gold and red. He had hours to contemplate what he’d done, and more than once he’d come close to returning the pages to their hiding spot, and trying to forget what he’d tried to do. His reluctance wasn’t for Sabin’s sake but rather, for Kamiki’s. He would have done anything to protect her from pain and heartache, and it wounded him that his actions would hurt her. If there was any other way, he thought, he would take it, gladly and whatever the consequences. But the night’s worth of mind-wracking doubts hadn’t come up with another solution, and by the time Kamiki woke and discovered the pages, he’d convinced himself that he’d done the only thing he could.
On most mornings, he would have been with Gavin when he woke, or at least gone to find him early to prevent him from too much mischief. Today, though, his young charge would wake to a companionless morning- the silver fox was pacing the hallways with an anxious mind and a poised ear, waiting for the moment of discovery.
He didn’t
know what he waited for- whether it be a scream, or a sudden scene, erupting
from their chambers… but after
It had been hours since Sabin had slipped into the streets, riding a shadow through every alley, and Kamiki was still curled on the bed, her tail a limp, despondent thing which drooped over the side. Her tears had long since dried up, and left her with the empty, numb cavern of grief that had followed her wracking sobs. She seemed…wilted, and it pained Simon to see her slack, sad body prone on the silver sheets. She was as beautiful as ever, in the graying light- but she seemed…incomplete without her air of confidence and untouched spirit, Simon thought. He loved her more in that moment than he ever had, and everything in his soul moved him forward to comfort her. Be with her. Something inside him filled him with power, and whispered that he could heal her wounds, and then she’d be free to love someone who could give her everything that she deserved. He moved up against the bed, and with an agile leap, landed in the cove of her curled body. He nosed her neck with a nudge, and placed a paw on her arm, as if to ease her.
Kamiki reached out with the hand that had been tucked to her side, and stroked his soft, shaggy fur, drawing her palm down his neck and along his back, stopping short of his tail. Simon’s heart leaped, and he made to begin his transformation- when he was human, then he could truly console her, and confess his love. But he was stopped short by the worst thing he had ever heard uttered.
“Go, Simon. Go take care of Gavin.” She said it absent-mindedly, not realizing what Simon was attempting. When she’d seen him leap up onto the bed, her first thought was that she hadn’t seen Gavin all day, and didn’t know what he was doing or where he was. Even in her grief, a mother’s guilt and concern took precedent to all else. She couldn’t possibly know what was going through her best friend’s mind.
His heart crashed. She was sending him away. Even when Sabin was gone, and she was in her most vulnerable state, she would have none of his love. She will never love me, he thought, and all the power he’d felt before was gone, dropped into a pit of sadness.
Simon moved off the bed and crept out the door, grateful only for his fox form… so Kamiki could not see him cry.
* * *
A sky, black with edged, rose points of light stretched out above her, and in a sweeping spiral around her, an all-consuming and quiet horizon. Kamiki found herself standing on a soft stretch of what might be moss, but she didn’t have the chance to observe it- for as soon as she looked down to examine what that soft material her feet rested on was made of, she was diverted by a billowing, orchid skirt. For the first time, she took a good look at herself- and saw that she was clad in a beautiful dress that she’d never seen before. It clung to her torso in the form of the most comfortable, delicate corset that had ever touched her skin, edged in a black lace that brushed an elegant heart silhouette against her breasts. The skirt flowed out, deepening into a rich burgundy when it reached the hem- and, when she moved slightly, it fanned out with a whisper to reveal a creamy petticoat dotted with wine-colored rosebuds, finely embroidered with a thread so thin it almost disappeared into the fragile material. Her arms were bare, except for what appeared to be a white-gold bangle that embraced her upper arm- a curled, vivid contrast to her cinnamon skin. The last thing she noted, putting her hand to her throat and peering down, was that a silver filigree chain supported a rose-colored heart pendant that hung almost to her chest. None of it had ever touched her skin before- and nor had she seen any outfit of its like. The surroundings were as unfamiliar, and she decided she must have dropped off into sleep. This was a dream, and she spun, hoping that the bliss of forgetfulness would overtake her, and she could live out some sort of fantasy without the weight of her current troubles. Even a half turn, however, brought her face to face with a tall, white-haired man.
“Sabin…” she said, still waiting for the slumber-ignorance to wash over her. He put a silver-gloved hand up to halt her speech.
“I didn’t want to wake you.” He gave a sweeping indication to the beautiful, albeit strange, black and rose world he’d conjured. “But I wanted to talk to you.”
So this- the dream, the dress, the sky- was all Sabin’s doing. She put her hand up against the edge of her hairline, an automatic gesture, and discovered that her hair had also been pulled back- she guessed, running her hand further along her lilac tresses, by some manner of diadem. And… was that? Yes. She laughed, despite the situation- Sabin had ‘gifted’ her with a halo that floated, inches above her hair.
“Nice touch.” She said, softly, bringing her hand down to her side once more. Sabin gave her a wry smile.
“Well, barring this morning’s…exchange, I’ve never known one who more personified an angel than you.”
Kamiki gave him a small smile- but couldn’t help but give off a sigh, as well. She had burned off all her fury, and an afternoon of crying just left her voice and expression… tender, and raw. She didn’t have anything left in her to rage at him, and found that she didn’t want to. All that was left were the unanswered questions.
“You’re right. About the talking, I mean.” In any normal circumstance, she would have been happy to entertain references to her being likened to an angel- but now was not the time. …Not that there was necessarily time here, anyway. She shrugged off the thought- the dream realm was a peculiar one, and she didn’t particularly care about its mechanics. She was focused, instead, on Sabin, who had taken steps toward her and begun to speak.
“There’s so much I should have told you, and that I still need to. …I hardly know where to begin.”
“Do you love her more than me?” Kamiki asked, cutting right to the wound. Sabin paused, and what she thought was a sad look crossed his eyes. It was hard to completely read him- she was used to a slight shift across his features, a control over his true form, and had long gotten adept at reading his shadowy, ever varying face… but in a dream realm, he didn’t seem to have to struggle to maintain control.
“I’m so sorry that you ever had to ask that. I should have been able to explain it to you a long time ago, but I only fully understood it myself today.”
Kamiki kept silent- she didn’t want to bring up what must have been a day of… chaos for him, having lost his foothold on restraint. She waited, instead, for him to continue.
“No. I don’t love Samantha more than I love you. The two of you are so different,” he paused, and a mirthless laugh escaped his lips, “and also so alike. But even then, I couldn’t ever compare you. I never, ever wanted to hurt you, Kamiki. Please know that. I haven’t always made the right choices, and for that, please feel how much my regret rules me right now. I keep the pages with me, and I write those messages, so I can be whole.”
“Whole?” Kamiki, though she’d vowed to herself that she’d let him finish, couldn’t help but asking. “I don’t understand.”
Sabin, not sensing any hostility in her form, spanned the gap between them, and took her hands in his. Through the gloves, his hands seemed almost entirely human.
“I want more than anything to be whole, Kamiki. You know there was a point in my life when I tried to deny the entirety of my nature- forsaking one part of who I was for another, attempting to suppress those aspects of myself of which I was… ashamed. I had to reach a point where I was willing to embrace the anju, if it meant that I would understand what completion was. And now that I’ve found a median, a symbiotic halfway point, I’ve only just begun to understand… where I fit.” It wasn’t easy for him to say this, even though he trusted this woman more than his life. He wasn’t proud of admitting that there had ever been a time when control had been…impossible, and his search for completion was the most personal aspect of his soul- it was his great journey. During the day of slipping rampantly through the shadows, however, he’d come to understand that bringing Kamiki into it was the only way that he could preserve her presence in his life, and everything that she meant to him. He was terrified that the price of his self-discovery… would be the sacrifice of the most precious and vital thing in his life.
He covered her two hands in his, grasping them as if afraid letting them go would cause her to disappear. “I try and keep the memory, and the love I feel for Sam with me, so I won’t forget her.”
“But you’ll never forget her, Sabin. She was your wife.”
“I know. But over time, I can just imagine forgetting everything that she did for me, and what she meant to me. And if I lose touch with that, I know that I could…” his head drooped, and he didn’t meet her eyes, “lose touch with you, too. And I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t lose you.”
Kamiki was struck with simultaneous understanding, and a wave of love for this man who stood, confessing his deepest secrets to her. He wasn’t betraying her, and he didn’t… love Samantha more than he did her- he was keeping the memory of his wife alive so that he never lost her.
“Oh Sabin…” she said, but he shook his head, and she let him finish. She didn’t know what she would have said anyway- those two, breathless words had escaped from her lips, clutched to the underbelly of her emotions.
“Being able to love was the greatest gift that Sam ever bestowed upon me. She let me believe that I deserved to be loved, even with everything that I’d done. She gave me the gift… of you, Kamiki.” He finally raised his eyes to meet hers, and they were so full of devotion and love that Kamiki couldn’t have held back the words this time no matter what Sabin said.
“I love you… so very much.” She threw her arms around his neck, and buried herself in his strong form. He’d only just put his arms around her in return, when a haze flooded her vision, and all sensations- the feel of his waistcoat against her cheek, and his sheltering hand against her back, disappeared.
She blinked
her eyes, then again, and cleared the haze from her eyes. She was laying on the bed, stretched on her
back with her arm curved up over her chest… and the first thing she saw was the
form of Sabin, standing over her, a smile on his face and that same, eternal
love glowing in his eyes. A tear fell
down her cheek, unbidden, and Sabin dropped to his knees. Then they held each other, a silent and
loving confirmation that nothing would ever part these two destined lovers.