Snow Angels Part 2: Treasured Hearts

Their steady procession through the snow-covered side roads gradually brought them closer to the heart of the little town in the mountains where they were staying. Time seemed to slow. Time spent together felt like time better spent. Yet neither said a word.

An invisible tension hung in the air. It grew with each cloudy exhale. However, a mere handhold kept them both placated. To any observer it would appear they were a sorely situated couple walking together, sharing a midafternoon stroll through the winter wonderland. Perhaps they were heading to the general store to pick up some last-minute gifts for the Christmas celebration. Maybe one of them needed the other to guide, holding hands was rather uncommon between humans and her species. All of these possibilities were ephemeral thoughts, as evanescent as the while clouds they exhaled. Between the two of them, their union of hands allowed them to connect to each other's hearts. It was their way of sharing something extraordinary special.

As they progressed, the snowfall gradually begun to dissipate, leaving behind only the crisp scent that follows a cold afternoon. By the time they entered the town square, decorations on every tree and building caught their eyes. Tall evergreen trees, buildings covered in snow, all sparkling with dazzling lights, a myriad of beautiful colors.

"They're so pretty!" Sana said, excitedly tugging at Chris' arm. "Look at all the pretty colors!"

"It is really something. A little town goes all-out!" He had to pick up his pace to match hers.

Sana raced towards the tallest of trees, the one with the most lights in the center of the quaint square by a frozen pond. She extended an arm to try and touch the little incandescent bulbs. It was a little blue orb, filled with mysterious electrical light. She held it in her hand and a faint glow emanated from her palm.

"Look!"

"Wow. Is that you?"

"I think so," she replied, albeit hesitantly. "Colors are very important to me. Each emotion has a special color, and that's how I see them. Usually I see others radiate their feelings, but, sometimes when I'm really feeling something strong, I can see my own too."

Mystified by how the aura pervaded in Sana's palm but also in the miniature bulb, he asked, "What are you feeling then?"

Instead of answering him, she responded with a curious glance and then a question. "You can see it too? You're able to tell?"

"Yeah, I can. But how did you?"

"You can feel it too, right?" she asked again, this time more eagerly.

He brought his hand up to the bulb and felt the faint heat given off by the orb. Chilled fingers caressed the base of the glass. Two tiny towers, adjoined by an incandescent thread glowed within. On the other side of the glass, an opaque hand belonging to Sana.

It was a pleasant sensation, deriving from her, spreading through the lit crystal globe, and into his palm. Together they held the tiny crystal of light, her emotions flowing outwards for each other to see.

He closed his eyes, trying to take it all in. What was this feeling? Her emotions for him? How could he ever hope to compete with that? His mind did not know what to say, but the deep silence ached more and more, and eventually he blurted the only thing he considered worth saying. "I wish I could do this with you for every last one of these little lights, Sana."

Looking up at the massive tree, she giggled. "Well, Chris, THAT would take you a LONG time, wouldn't it!"

"I guess it would," he said complacently, still fondling the orb of light between their hands. "It would be nice for a long time then."

Sanaria cooed in agreement under her breath. "Sometimes…sometimes I wish we could just…"

He silently squeezed her hands, which cut her off.

The light in their hands dimmed.

Sana closed her eyes in understanding. "Not now. I know."

"I'm sorry." He really was. "It shouldn't have to be this way." The urge was far too great, and the consequences as equally dire. How he longed for her. The way he tried to extrapolate why they needed to always be together.

Sana looked down, her eyes barely open. "Is it because… I'm not a human girl?"

Her candor struck him in the worst possible way. The way she seamlessly identified the conundrum and articulated it without so much of a burst of emotion made him resentful. Her words cut deep into his heart. Made him wish he could disappear. Yet he did not let himself drown in self-loathing. "I would never change who you are," he said. "If I did, I'd lose the one I fell for."

She snapped open her eyes wide. "What do you mean?"

He felt guilty for not telling her. How could he? It was nothing she could hope to benefit from knowing. Yet now that they shared so much together, if he held back she would see his reservations as an affront to the relationship they built. A bond stained with sacrifice. The conviction he felt, the will to be genuine with the one he treasured brought him to an internal cleansing of spirit. Even though he lacked the strength before, now nothing stood in his way but his own fear. Realizing this caused his convictions to form into action.

"I'll explain it to you," he said. "I will. I have to, Sana. Just, not here, not now."

"Why?"

"The people." He motioned over his shoulder with a tilt of his head. "It's something we should do in private."

Several people, bundled up in puffy colorful coats, scarves, and hats, were just leaving the frozen pond. They carried with them their ice skates, laughing and singing songs about the Christmas tree. Apparently they noticed the two of them huddled under the giant tree.

"Oh, hey! Look!" said a young woman with a melodic voice, wearing a black and white overcoat with a hood crafted in the likeness of a Pancham.

"Huh?" replied a short boy in a puffy coat that made his young, reddened face look rather small, especially under the knitted olive hat he wore.

"Over by the pretty tree!" said the woman. "Isn't that precious! A trainer is showing her the Christmas Tree."

"They look happy!" said the little tike.

"Yes," said the woman, who might have been the boy's mother or older sister, "it's Christmastime after all, darling."

"They're soooo cool. I wanna be a trainer too!"

The young woman gave them a friendly wave, then looked back down at her boy and held his mitten. "Okay. Let's head back now," she said. "We'll have a nice Christmas dinner together with everyone. I'll make it special for you!"

"Yay!" the boy exclaimed, now eager to head home to spend time with his family.

There were a few moments of quietness. He heard some faint carols being sung in the distance in three-fourths time, much like a waltz. The haunting melody of dissonance followed, bringing with it a faint sense of lonesomeness.

Sana spoke, breaking the silence. "They seem like a nice family."

Chris felt a lump in his throat. He sniffled, the cold air biting at his nose. His breath felt trapped deep in his chest. The happy scene had made him sad. He had no idea what was wrong with himself. As he and Sanaria held the dim Christmas light, he felt a single tear well up in the corner of his eye. "Dammit…" he whispered under his breath.

"Hey…" Sana gripped his hand. "They had some nice things to say about us." She always knew exactly what to say.

"Yeah," he said, pulling himself together. It had hit him hard. He might never have an accepted affection with her as his companion. "They sure did."

"It's okay," she insisted.

Dipping his head in grief, he refused to release Sana's hand. She was the only one he had left in this world. The only reason he was even here was because of her. This world, this life, all of it he owed to her. How selfish to forget her. Acceptance did not matter. If it did, he would surely not be here right now.

Sana gradually let go of the bulb and put her arm around him, pressing her body close against his. She was warm, even when the temperature was cold enough to transform a Castform.

"Thanks," he said holding her. He yearned for more, but he knew this was not the place.

She squeezed him round the waist before letting go. "Let's head back. You can tell me about Christmas on the way."

He started walking, closer to her than before. "Okay."

"So, what does Christmastime mean to you? Why's it special? Why does it feel so magical?"

"Well it's…" Pausing, he said, "I know it's a holiday, but I have a difficult time explaining the whole magical thing actually."

"You do?" Then Sana laughed victoriously. "Could it be? Has the self-proclaimed famous researcher been stumped?"

"No way," he lied. "Was always just this holiday that came and went. I'd get presents from my father. It was nice."

"You got presents?!" she exclaimed. "Huh. You weren't always bad I guess."

His cold lips formed a nostalgic smile. "Yeah. Could say that."

"Hey, so, what kinds of presents?"

"Well, usually something cool from Silph Co. That's where he worked after all. Pokéball holsters, rare technical machines, prototype Pokéballs, even the most up-to-date graphic encyclopedias. Then one year I got a storybook from my aunt in Orre. I remember reading it so late at night under the covers with a flashlight in hand."

Sana asked, "What was it about?"

"An adventure about friends on exciting journeys with their Pokémon. Some were treasure hunters, others martial artists, there was even an investigator and a little girl. Despite their differences, they all could rely on their friends, and that was what made them strong enough to stand up to anything. You could say it gave me the idea to go adventuring myself. But so much for a journey being a piece of cake."

"Our adventure sure has been filled with challenges." Sana chuckled nervously. "More than a few close calls!"

"We're lucky to be alive." Truer words had never been spoken. But he did not want to focus on their peril. "I'd like to write a few of my own stories one day."

"What about me?" Spiritedly, she ruffled his hair with her free hand. "That sounds terrible!"

"Shucks. It's not like it'd be interesting without my assistant!"

She groaned, belabored by his insisting she was a mere subordinate. "And how do you think you're going to remember anything without me?"

"You do have that going for you," he acknowledged.

"One day, you'll be able to remember everything on your own. Then you won't need me to tell you. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

"It would be." It hurt to lie to her. But what else could he do?

Sensing his strain, she insisted, "I'm sure you'll get there eventually."

Coldness crept back into his heart, reminding him of the truth. A truth she needed to understand to really be with him. Her innocence made everything uneasy. And so, he decided to disclose to her a revelation he had, a genuine realization. "The only thing I'll have is you, Sana. Even once I have all my memories back."

At first, she seemed a little taken aback. Her hand cramped up around his in thinly-veiled nervousness. "I'll have you too, Chris," she replied. The sheer thought of being alone proved to be daunting, frightening for her. She had already lost so much.

"About my memories…"

She tilted her head.

"—Never mind."

Sana huffed. "I can read your heart," she said. "You've got something you're not telling me."

"Right."

The she growled, clearly frustrated. "We'll need each other," she said.

He took his other hand out from his pocket and placed his arm around her. Her parka's hood had fallen off again. Her back was warm to the touch, radiating even, from her heart crystal.

She hummed softly, her breaths forming small clouds, tiny globes in which the snowflakes fell through. "Oh," she said, lackadaisically responding to his advance.

They were far enough on the road to evade any unwanted attention from the town square. Above, on ice-covered street posts, orange lights illuminated the frosted landscape, casting long shadows over drifts and banks. Shadows changed and morphed the landscape with every step they took together. The distant smell of smoke mixed with the crisp winter air.

He squeezed her shoulder affectionately and she purred in response, wrapping her arms around his waist.

The walked for a few minutes in muffled crunching before she asked, "So every Christmas you got presents?"

He shook his head. "Not the year mom died. There wasn't any Christmas that year."

"Oh." Sorrow she understood.

"It's alright."

Using her psychokinesis, she flipped her hood back over her hair. "I haven't gotten over a lot of things," she said from underneath the fluffiness.

He nudged her side. "You're tougher than you look."

"Is that supposed to be an insult?" she asked.

"Nah. I want to be strong too. You've already got that inner strength. Mine's not refined," he admitted.

"You already are strong!" Sana pointed to his chest.

"This? My heart?" He laughed weakly. "No. My heart's weak."

"A heart isn't a physical organ."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"It's more than that," she explained. "It's how you perceive the world around you. How you make reality into your story and those you care about a part of it. When I'm feeling down, I always remember: I carry the feelings of my family and friends with me."

"That's…true," he replied in a feeble rapture.

While she stroked his torso, she said gently, "You always had the capability. Don't you feel it too?"

"I do. But I've been alone for a long time." His voice lowered. "I grew cold."

She pushed her head against his shoulder and slowed their pace. "Were you always alone for Christmas?"

"No. That's the worst part. It was taken away from me. I had a family. I had friends. It all went away."

"Well, then you have to make a new one!"

"A new what? Family?" Incredulously, he huffed a cloud of mist which quickly evaporated.

"Why not? If it makes you happy."

He looked up at the wintery sky. Some of the clouds were parting. He could make out the Huntsman's Belt, a collection of three bright stars in a wintertime constellation. "Sana, if you asked me a while ago, I would've told you material things make everyone happy. The whole reason I wanted to go badge collecting and help Professor Oak out with his Pokédex project was to become well-renowned as a researcher. I wanted my old life back. I wanted to be able to remember. Regain my potential."

Sana remained as silent as the snow-covered streets.

"As foolish and selfish as I was," he said, dragging his feet slightly in the snow. "The only remedy I could fathom was a return to my prior life. And you know, for a while, I'm sure that would have sufficed."

"It would?"

"I'm sure it would have." He took a deep breath. "Because I could not remember."

She did not seem to get it at first, but then it clicked. "Wait, you said you couldn't remember."

"Looks like I couldn't hide that from you."

"Wait! So you…!" Her excited push nearly knocked him over. "Why didn't you say something?!"

"I don't know how to say this, I'm sorry."

"Try to. I'm listening."

"Sanaria, if I hadn't met you—"

She stopped. He followed suit. Her eyes traced his face's bottled emotions.

"—I wouldn't know any better," he said.

In confusion, she tilted her head.

"What I'm trying to say is this: Sana, you are the key to my memories. Being with you changed me. Made me a better person."

"A better person?" she asked. "But I didn't—"

"You did. I owe so much to you." He closed his hands into fists of frustration. "I never had enough strength to say it!"

"You don't have to feel obligated—"

"No, that's not it. It's just that I…love what we have."

"You…love…?" she repeated. It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Rather than let embarrassment take over, he doubled-down. "Yeah. Does that sound weird to you?"

Her eudemonic tone spoke volumes. "No! Not at all. I feel the same way. You know I do, don't you? You can feel that I feel this way? Right?"

He didn't expect her to suddenly barrage him with questions. His response got caught in his throat. Therefore he did the next best thing and nodded.

"Oh, Chris!" she exclaimed, gripping him tightly and drawing close. "You really mean that?!"

With her face right beside his, he stared deeply into her cherry eyes and said, "I mean it, Sana."

He pressed his forehead against hers. The warm ear cartilage on the sides of her face tickled him; they were soft and delicate even in the frigid weather. Reaching behind her neck, his forearm graced her milky green hair. It was softer than silk, thick, and always filled with the scent of tropical flowers. And then in a final motion, he kissed her lips.

She jolted in response, tightly pulling on his jacket from behind. The snow spinning around, dancing on their skin as they brought their bodies together brought numerous other feelings to surface. It was like being lost together with her in a snow globe, filled to the brim with spiraling snowfall, mystifying and beautiful.

The tenderness of her mouth, the taste of her, hardly managed to prevent them from falling into a passionate kiss. It was sweet, reminding him of crisp rose blossoms; and her lips were as tender as such a flower's petals. He yearned for more. The aroma of the distant tropics, the land of her origin, flooded his senses with notes of ripe hibiscus and creamy coconut. He felt her arms trace his back as their lips broke after the brief, but mind-numbingly sensitive, contact.

Her eyes were still closed. She cooed an entranced "This…this is wonderful" as their kiss broke.

Yet the lingering sensation, the desire, and passion all remained. It was not stronger than ever. He pinched his lips inward, they felt dreadfully cold and empty. "I know, but someone will see us out here," he said.

Having been so close, she sensed his suppressed urges more than before. "I…know; it's your human instincts."

"Thanks," he said, catching his breath. His heart was pounding from the sensation, and he felt an acute lightheadedness. "Just not right here. Not right now."

Not wanting to make it more difficult for the young man, she lowered her head, pressing her cheek into his shoulder and asked wistfully, "Later?"

He exhaled. "Later." Chris gave her head a rub.

She clutched onto his arm. Together their hands frolicked for a few seconds, as thoughts and emotions were conveyed through the sense of shared touch. "I really want to be with you."

"Right, too the lodge, we're almost there."

They walked closer than ever, as the wind picked up, howling up the mountainside, blowing cascades of snow all around them.

"So why is Christmas magical?" Sana asked as the lodge came within sight.

Chris had other things on his mind, and had completely forgotten. "Ah…I never answered your question."

She murmured, "You told me what stories people tell, you told me what people do, but you haven't told me why it's at all special."

He felt unqualified to adequately answer the question, but how could he not at least try for her sake? "Christmas," he said, "is a time of year when we celebrate love."

"Love?" she repeated, her core glowing warmly.

"Yes," he said decisively. "We celebrate love."

"I see. Love is the strongest of all emotions."

"Through appreciating grace. Grace that allows for us to share even a tiny bit of life together. No matter how small that time might be, it exists to be shared. And when it's shared, it'll create memories that last a lifetime." He ran a hand through her hair as she walked, huddled next to him. When she did, all the cold frost was replaced by warmth. "I've never… No, I forgot how to—"

"—But you remember it again?" she interrupted.

"I told you I would explain it," he said walking up to the door. "This is different from remembering. It's the first half actually. This is us making a memory together."

"Making a memory...together…?"

Opening the door for her he mused. "Perhaps that's why Christmas has lasted all these years."

Rather than hurry inside, she remained fixated on him. "It has?"

He felt weary, the whole decision had really worn on him, but this is what he wanted in the end. "Oh, yes. Year after year, Sana."

"I want to be able to remember this," she said resolutely.

"We will. And then next Christmas, we'll think about this first time. And same with the net, and the next, until…" His voice trailed off. There was a lump in his throat. Something he had remembered shook him to his core.

"I never want to forget."

"Me neither. More than anything else, I don't want to forget." The wind blew even harder, and he gestured. "C'mon, no sense standing here on the doorstep, gotta choose a side. In or out."

"In!" she said playfully dashing inside.

"Glad I chose the same thing as you," he mumbled as the door slammed shut loudly behind from the wind.

Sana quickly occupied herself by the small fir tree inside, alit with lights, shiny ornaments, and laced with garland. She twirled around it, taking off her snow-covered parka and tossing it roughly. It landed perfectly on a hook thanks to her psychokinesis.

Feeling less than fond of silence, Chris placed a record on an old turntable. The instrumental music of the season played through the dust coated amplifiers.

"This music! I like it!" Sana pranced over to him.

Unsure if she was going for another hug, he decided to pull her by the hand, quickly bringing her to the center of the room and twirling her in his arms.

"I didn't know you knew how to dance!" she exclaimed.

"Naturally, I…—" His foot miss-stepped on her gown. A crash, he found himself awkwardly down on his knee. "—Don't."

Tugging her dress, Sana tried not to laugh. "Is my gown too long?"

"I'm not an expert," he said, raising his head to her hip as he started to stand up.

Still holding his hand, she insisted, "I can make it shorter."

"You can?" he started to say, but by the time the words had left his lips, she had already begun her magic.

"See?" said Sana, twirling a new, slighter skirt. "Simple folding."

Staring in awe at her waist, he mumbled, "You never cease to impress."

"C'mon." With a wink, she pulled him up, bringing him closer to her body in the process. "An assistant's gotta be adaptable. Even if her partner can't coordinate his own legs."

"Wait, did you just—!"

"Shh!" She hushed his mouth with her hand. "The music is playing."

And so, he clumsily continued to dance with her through the rest of the song, bumping her legs a few times.

Upon hearing the song's cathartic ending, Sana asked with a bright expression, "Chris?"

"Yeah?"

The soft melody of the record in the background returned as the needle shifted to the next track.

"Do we give each other presents too?"

He laughed, patting her on the head. "It's not beyond the realm of possibilities! In fact, if my eyes don't deceive me, there's a present there under the tree. Why don't you unwrap it?"

As she turned, her mouth dropped in surprise. "Where did that come from!? It wasn't here before."

Leaning back on the side of a tall wooden bookshelf with arms satisfyingly crossed, he smiled. "Sometimes, there's a bit of magic that comes with Christmas."

Sana darted over to the present. Her skips levitating her a few inches off the floor near the end. She excitedly bent down to pick up the wrapped box. With a thrilled dance, she spun around, billowing her skirt out like a tutu. Then she extended her hand out to him.

"Hmm? Need something?"

"Come here! I want to open it with you!"

"Oh, okay, sure."

When he stood next to her, she leaned in and planted a small peck on his cheek. "Thank you!"

His blood felt hot, everything around him was so warm, but especially her. "You haven't even opened it yet!" he said, red from blushing.

"I'm so happy!" she exclaimed. "You got me a present for Christmas!"

"Sheesh, it was nothing to sneak that by you," he said sarcastically.

"You're all red," she teased.

He growled. "That's… I'm just cold from being outside. Tell you what, I'm gonna light a fire." Kneeling down by the old fireplace, he placed some recently chopped logs from the nearby iron basket. With his West family lighter, he lit the tinder and proudly sat back as the flames began to crackle at the firewood.

"Ooooh!" Sana squealed as the fire roared to life.

Glancing over his shoulder, he looked at her suspiciously. She was still holding the wrapped gift close against her heart. With a tired sigh, he plopped down on the couch next to the fireplace and said, "C'mon, don't you want to see what's inside?"

Sana pranced closer to the fireplace, sitting down next to him, then crossing her legs neatly as she leaned against him. The aura of joy from Sana rivaled the heat of the fire. As far as he could tell from the soft shadows of the flames, she was flushing as well. "So this is close and cozy!"

She inspected the box and placed it in her lap. "What should I do next? Mindread you? Telekinetically skin it, or—?"

"What the—?" Caught off-guard by her, he shook his head. "No, no. Use your hands, you goof. That's what makes it fun."

"It sounds…inelegant. You took such a long time to wrap it up so neatly."

"I didn't wrap it up for you to look at!" he said, nudging her with an elbow. "Go on, tear it up like crazy."

Wrapping one of her hands around the arm he had prodded her with, Sana gleefully said, "Okay, here I go."

It didn't take her long to fumble with the paper. With a loud tear, her fingers tore off the main face of the boxed gift. As she finished tearing off the wrapping, he said, "Merry Christmas!"

"What is this?" she asked, pressing her hands through the box curiously. Trembling with uncertainty, her hands pulled out a soft string attached to two cups. She must have seen it before, or his thoughts gave it away. Her face turned bright red. "This is…! You want me to wear this?!"

"It's part of a set," he said.

"OF UNDERWEAR?" she yelled in shock.

"It's island-wear actually," he replied, trying not to laugh at her astonished reaction.

She reached back into the box, holding the bra by its raffia tie closures. There was a leafy skirt inside. She removed it with a rustle and looked seriously confused. "W-what? A skirt made of grass? How can I wear this in the cold?"

"We're not staying in the cold," he finally explained. "You and me are leaving on the first bird outta here after New Year's and headin' to the tropics."

"The tropics!" Her eyes widened in thoughts of her home. "Where the sand is warm, the sea is pure, and the flowers are big, bright, and beautiful?"

"Yes. Alola. That's where we'll go. I managed to secure a research job there. It's far enough away from everything. Things might start to turn ugly if we stay around here." His mind ached with worry, his thoughts of the future were fraught with anxiety. Being unable to come clean and tell her made it all the worse.

"What do you mean? Because of our relationship?"

"It will always be a taboo if people don't understand it. Many won't bother to, but that's not what upsets me. I don't feel shame because of us. However, the threat of war is not something we can simply avoid as with prejudice."

She made a frightened noise. "War?"

He decided to tell her. "I saw a conflict, Sana. A war unlike any other scar the entire world. The end of the world. Brought me to my knees when I realized how powerless I was in the face of legendary beings. Even after the choice I made, no, BECAUSE of the choice I made, I can't be sure when or if any of it will happen. Sana, I can't be sure of anything but us. The future is an open book once more, its destiny can no longer be predicted. It's our story now. If that's all okay with you, I want it to be with you."

She clumsily tumbled over the box and wrappings and held him close by wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "This is all for real?" she said, her entire body shivering in a mixture of excitement and nervousness. "You aren't making it up?"

He firmly placed his hand on the back of her neck, behind her hair, where it felt warm. "I won't ever lie to you again. That's precisely the reason why I'm here," he said faintly. His words trailed off into a forest of deep thought, but he quickly pulled himself out from the trance of introspection.

"You made a promise," she said, inhaling softly. Her body quivered in his arms. "To never leave. I think I'm starting to understand it from your feelings. This is how you meant to fulfill it."

"Yeah. This was the only way. I didn't realize it. I couldn't have known at the time. It was when I made that final wish."

"Oh?"

Feeling a pang of guilt deep in his gut, he said, "You were not there when I did."

Her shoulders slumped. Sana tried to make eye-contact, however his gaze remained fixed on the crackling flames in the fireplace.

"But you're here now," he said in a somber voice, raspy with the heaviness of his decision. "And that's what matters most. It's the only thing that really matters in this world."

She pressed her heart close to his. He knew what she was doing. It was futile to resist her method of extracting information at this proximity. And so, he let her. He emptied his whole heart out to her. The entirety of his decision. Its meaning. Its implications. Every last heart-wrenching sensation he shared with her.

It did not take very long. She began to breathe quickly, then simper in short bursts as she realized what had happened. Again and again she gasped for air, as each sensation passed through her of the tribulations they had faced and forgotten about.

He felt a particularly nasty sting in his chest when she read the last bit. And then a crushing weight of responsibility when she came to the revelation, as he once did, about the world they had set loose and the consequences it carried. Because he failed, he could not forget. But now, Sana shared the burden. Their forbidden relationship, a testament to the best and worst it could bring.

There was silence. An uncomfortable stillness filled the room as she came to terms with it all. Finally, the quietness broke.

"Are you sure… this is what you wanted?"

Wordlessly he nodded, his weary eyes transfixed on the flames in the hearth.

"The wish, the one you chose not to become part of. Why!" Sana exclaimed, clearly on the verge of tears. "Why didn't you—?"

"It was too cruel," he said. There was a mature gravity in his voice. He spoke with the insipid wisdom of a young man who had realized the weakness of the mortal spirit. Having seen the hubris of ambition through a cycle of life and death, the utter futility of the Time Guardian, he had the gall to deny fate, to spit in its eye. That was the reason why he was here forever. "Maybe someone with a stronger will could wish it all back, but not me."

Sana was dumbfounded. She pulled at his collar, her chest heaving as she put the pieces into place. "You had a chance to save it… save her. Most of all, you could have stopped the—!"

"No, Sana. I made my choice, like countless others." He looked down and the ground, then at her. "I couldn't make that choice if it meant—"

"You weren't supposed to do this! We weren't supposed to be like this! You were supposed to have—!"

He put his hands on her shoulders to try and calm her. "Listen to me. Please, Sana. When I woke up, I heard your voice outside. I recognized you immediately. There was no doubt in my mind. That's when I knew: I let myself fail, so we could be together."

She shook her head in disbelief. "It isn't fair! You changed our lives, forever. And with this…" She pointed at her core. "I'll never…"

"You're the one I chose, Sana. The wish, it saw through my heart, and you were the one there. I can't explain to you any of it. I don't understand it. I don't know what will happen next. But what I do understand is I want to be with you more than anything else."

She began to cry openly. "I'm not her. I'll never be—"

"—I'll never be human either," he said, finishing her thoughts.

She sobbed, weakly falling into his arms. "I want to hate you," she whimpered. "Chris! How could you be so…so… callous?! I want to punch you!"

"Go ahead. If it will make you feel better."

"Huh?" She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. "You're different. You don't care?"

"I care more than I ever had in the past. That's why I'm being sincere with you. There's no going back. This is permanent. You can hate me if you must. I had no right to do this to you, and I did it anyway. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Sana." Hugging, he squeezed her tightly. "I just hope, somehow you'll be able to live again."

Continuing to sob, her body shivered in his arms. Patiently, he held her as she let it all out. There was nothing left for him to say. No more secrets between them, and no going back. He knew this, and that it was the only way for him to gain her genuine affection. That is why he took the chance. That was why he was with her, because Sana meant more than anything else the infinite universe could offer.

"There's one condition," she said. "It's non-negotiable."

He waited for her to chastise him, to ridicule his weakness during a time when duty should have overcome all desire. Feeling the weight of the world creep over him, he fought to ward it off from crushing his already withered soul.

She spoke sternly. "And that is: You'll never leave my side."

A moment passed. Then another. Only the spontaneous sounds of the crackling fire confirmed time had been passing.

"That's all?" he asked expecting more.

She glared icily at him. "Promise."

His stiff posture relaxed, and he squeezed her close. "Promise."

Raising her hand, she traced the profile of his jawline. They shared another kiss, this one much deeper and more sensual as their bodies connected. Exploring each other, their passionate and tender joining together continued unabated. When they finally broke, her soft voice explained, "I didn't get you anything."

"No. You did. I have everything right here. Sana, this is what I wanted. I'd go through it all again and again to be with you. No matter what. Because this is love, and love is —"

In[FIN]ite