forever

llyse

'Forever', he'd said.

Forever was a long time.

It never lasted.

The world was subtly changed, but in the first burst of exuberant joy he did not notice that change; only when long-unused senses had adjusted to the revelation of restored existence did the boy gather his clothes closer and ask of passers-by, and the answer he received was:

"Makabe Kazuki is marrying Toomi Maya!"

Rejoicing.

The Alvis headquarters were festooned for the occasion, and although neither bride nor groom had expressed any interest in grand festivities or ostentatious decorations, the latter had sprung up seemingly overnight, and the former had been long in the planning. It was quite natural: both bride and groom could be counted as heroes (or heroines, as it were), and for an island that had suffered through war, then peace, and war again, the union of two young people who had endured much pain was a cause for delight.

Celebration.

The sandy-haired young man drifted along bright streets and dark lanes, fingers clenched in waterlogged clothing. The clothes dried slowly, and under the occasional light revealed their true colors of white and blue, cut in patterns like that of the old Alvis uniform but different, as if someone had tried to remember the old uniform but could not quite recall the exact cut. The boy himself looked lost, and several times concerned residents would stop him to ask where he lived, and the answer they received was:

"Nowhere."

The bride was radiant, the groom alight with joy. Both of them had seen much, had fought together and suffered together, and it bound them tighter than any other shared experience--pain, being so much more immediate than anything else, was not easily forgotten. They understood each other, that much was evident, and the bride said nothing when the groom glanced out a large window at the dark night, a name sliding quietly from his lips nestled alongside a prayer for that person's happiness--

wherever he might be.

The beach was deserted, waves washing up and up again in endless cycle, like existence and nothingness, like life and death. The red-irised, sad-eyed boy drifted in the end back to the place of his rebirth; back to the two who waited patiently for his return. Time, perhaps, meant nothing to them. You existed, or you did not.

"He is still here," he said to the two, dark-haired woman and dark-haired boy, completely different except for scarlet irises stained maroon by darkness.

"Will you be here?" the other boy responded, features twisted slightly with sorrow. Time meant nothing to them. They had simply forgotten that it meant everything to others.

The waves washed up and again, like existence and nothingness. The beach lay empty. In a brightly-lit hall, a young man paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the horizon for a golden figure that never came--

nor would come again.