Moments in Time

Entre Acte

pas·sage1 Spelled [pas-ij] noun, verb,-saged, -sag·ing.
noun: A lapse or passing, as of time. or A progress or course, as of events. It grows exponentially.

They were dead.

Death was a pleasant feeling. Here there was nothing to worry about, the pressures of the previous days and weeks and years vanished in a collective sigh of relief. They could be peaceful here, lost in aloneness and in solitude.

Breath did not exist here, yet their chests heaved a heavy-hearted collective sigh of relief.

The churning feeling in her stomach settled, and her fists released the tension in their grip.

She could finally pause.

It was a beautiful feeling.

Yet just as suddenly as they went softly into that goodnight, they were ripped back into reality – once more standing alone in the burned ruins of a church that their love and hatred of their situation had destroyed. Disorientation took them; they tried to come to grips with the situation. They were deaf and numb, completely and utterly alone in the world - for their world was this ruin in which they now stood.

They were once great, and now fallen angels - princesses in all but name.

She was crying, Kuga Natsuki realized dimly, sound rushing back to her ears as though someone had flicked a switch. Suddenly the world was deafening. The crackle of ashes settling in the burn-out church, the quiet sobs of the girl next to her and the high pitched whistle of the springtime wind cutting through the suddenly open space that the church formerly occupied formed a cacophony of sound around her.

Why?

Why am I crying?

She'd been happy, content to die. Why did her body insistently cling to life as though it was a gift from on high?

Is this hell?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Strange, Shizuru was not speaking colloquially any more, her language was formal and concise, wracked by sobs.

Don't cry.

Natsuki reached up to try and touch her shoulder, the ringing in her ears growing more and more intense as her fingers made contact with the soft cotton of Shizuru's school blazer. The contact brought her back, crashing down to reality with a terrified intake of breath. Her fist clenched around the fabric, squeezing Shizuru's arm and causing her to look up and meet Natsuki's blank stare with her tear-filled russet eyes.

"Hey," Natsuki started, stumbling over her words as her tongue tried to acclimate itself with being used once more. It felt thick and heavy in her mouth; she licked her lips to ensure she could speak the words before continuing. "Don't cry."

She hated it when Shizuru cried; it made her feel upset and frightened. Shizuru was the strongest person Natsuki knew, and when she was laid bare and completely raw emotionally like this, Natsuki had no idea how to react.

Shizuru flung herself at Natsuki's chest and sobbed into the dirty and stained fabric of Natsuki's undershirt. Natsuki awkwardly wrapped her arms around the sobbing girl and held her as tightly as she dared.

Why are we back?

What the hell did you do, Mai?

So many questions raced through her head, but the most important one still remained silent in response.

What do I do now?