Author's Introduction:
I had nearly forgotten how much I loved spending time with my friends the Ronin boys. (big grin). I can always count on Seiji when I need armor, and now's looking like a time when I might need his help, so I was very glad to see him and the others when they came around the apartment in my brain again. This is a fic I wrote back in college, but it got lost in the shuffle of that dark, strange time. Sage tapped me lightly on the shoulder and reminded me of it the other day, and I'm so glad to share it now.
And for those wonderfully awful people who like to sift through my fanfics here and my fanart on DA to try and find proof that I don't love and adhere to canon as much as I claim in my fanwork for the series I love, you're beat. Sage/Mia (Seiji/Nasuti in the Japanese YST) is canon. It actually surprises me that so many RW fanwork is Ryo/Mia, because if I remember correctly it's evidenced further in the manga and the Japanese version of the series that there is eventually something between Sage and Mia. So you trolls can kiss my yoroi!
This fic—and indeed, all my Ronin fanwork—goes out to all the story lovers who remember the good old days of anime—the days of mystical armor, gundanium alloy, the SDF-1, and the wild dance of death that is Motorball. (big grin).
Pretty In White
A Ronin Warriors fanfiction by Firestar9mm
You're so pretty in white
Pretty when you're faithful
So pretty in white
(Bush, Inflatable)
Mia kicked the snow, watching it glitter like pixie dust as it fell around the toe of her boot. She loved snow. It was such a fascinating thing, the way it looked so clean, could hide the countryside and silence the world. Nothing but pure, distilled quiet as far as the—
"So there you have it," a voice yelled. "I present to the jury Exhibit A: the kitchen counter where I but for a second placed my hamburger…"
The back door opened and Kento Lei Fuan charged out, followed by a miserable-looking Ryo Sanada. Mia could understand why the latter looked so distraught. Ryo was easily the most athletic of the five boys and loved sports like baseball and soccer. However, anything you had to do in snow or cold, according to Ryo, could not be fun. He had his arms locked around himself, his chin tucked so close to his chest that he looked like a turtle.
"Kento, that doesn't—"
"Exhibit B!" Kento interrupted. "The 'pet door'—" Here the Warrior of Hardrock used his fingers for quotation marks. "—that you carved into the back door."
"Kento, I was—" Ryo tried to get a word in.
"Exhibit C!" Kento continued, ignoring Ryo and walking further into the yard. "The chewed-up remains of my hamburger bun, surrounded by…" Kento eyed Ryo suspiciously. "…tiger tracks."
"Those could be anybody's tiger tracks!" Ryo hollered nervously.
"I think not!" Kento yelled dramatically. "You owe me a burger, buddy!"
"Man, I can't wait until spring!" Ryo said, retreating back into the house.
Mia shook her head and smiled. So much for quiet. Not that she minded—she couldn't remember when she'd lived without these boys and the lovely chaos they brought to the large house and the property beyond.
Her smile widened when a nearby snowdrift shivered, then broke apart to reveal the tiger that had been hiding beneath it. The big cat looked at Mia with wary brown eyes, as if asking, Can I come out now? Is he gone?
"He's gone," Mia chuckled. "Good hiding place, White Blaze."
The tiger shook the snow from his coat and walked over to Mia, who scratched behind his ear affectionately, feeling the chill trapped in his fur. She bent to smack a loud kiss against his head, then patted his broad shoulder. "I won't tell. Promise."
A lick of the tiger's broad tongue in a kiss was her reward, and then the big cat walked toward the house, keeping a weather eye out for Kento in case he needed to duck beneath another snowdrift.
Mia turned back towards the woods and realized there was another set of tracks leading away from the house, the yard and the incriminating paw prints.
Someone in the woods, this early? Mia smiled. It could only be one person, and it didn't surprise her at all.
Sage had found a brook running through the woods, thus booking his morning solid. If he listened closely, he could hear the water running beneath its ice blanket. It sat stopped over rock formations, motion motionless.
Thoughts of ice always brought him back to that night on Mount Dojo, the swirling snow, the frozen waterfall, a curse screamed out into the night by a woman with no weapon save her courage. Every time he remembered that night, he felt guilty for thinking she was lovely even in the ice, even with the look of surprise on her face—her own death unexpected.
But she hadn't died. He had been there to break through the ice, the shards falling around them like a shattered rainbow. Even as he carried her to safety, he had felt a pang in his heart for how she'd looked, the color stolen from her, an ice bride in a frozen white veil of water. She'd have been beautiful forever, locked in perfection, in the ice.
Strange to feel so about someone who had quickly grown to be such an important part of his life. What's wrong with me, that I imagine such things? he thought, a shudder running unbidden through his bones.
Shaking his tawny head as if it would clear the thoughts away, Sage turned back to head for home.
Mia could see why Sage might like places like this. It was filled like a cup with the quiet he loved. Judging by his footprints, he was following the brook. She walked in his tracks, her boots fitting easily in the deep prints.
She wondered what he was looking for out here. Perhaps he was following the brook to its source? Although curiosity wasn't one of his more prominent traits; he was never other than a reflective person who seemed content to watch the backs of his eyelids while he meditated.
Seeing the snow sparkle around her, clean and untouched save for Sage's footprints, she was gripped by an urge to make her own mark on the landscape canvas. Lying on her back, she indulged in an activity she hadn't taken part in since she was a child—making a snow angel. The chill of the snow around and beneath her was sharp and immediate. Her breath clouded up like a soul escaping to heaven. So peaceful—
—until a tree above decided to shrug off its load of snow onto her face and shoulders. Sputtering, Mia lifted her hands from the angel's wings and brushed at her eyes. The terrible feeling of not enough air was one she knew all too well.
And then strong hands were pulling her to a sitting position, wiping the snow from her face gently. "Hey there," a warm, pleasantly masculine voice said. "Breathe in. Are you all right?"
"Sage?" Mia blinked starred-together lashes and her vision focused into the solemn countenance of the Warrior of Halo.
"I saw you on the ground," he said simply. "I thought you were in trouble."
Mia frowned mockingly at him. "Don't you ever get tired of saving me all the time?"
It had been a joke, but he answered right away. "No."
The answer caught her off-guard. "No?"
"No. Someone's got to," he added.
Her frown deepened. "I don't always need to be saved."
Sage smiled condescendingly. "Mia. You couldn't even walk through the woods without being attacked."
"I was not attacked."
"That tree must really like you, then." Sage chuckled and surprised her by reaching out and brushing snow from her hair, his fingers gentle. "What were you doing on the ground in the first place?"
Mia blushed. "Making a snow angel."
Sage blinked, then stood, his hands clasping hers to pull her to her feet beside him. He looked down at the snow. "So it is an angel," he murmured.
"You wouldn't know anything about it, though," Mia said haughtily. "You're way too mature to play in the snow."
Sage frowned. "I just—"
"Didn't want to get snow in your hair?" Mia interjected.
The frown deepened, became a scowl, and he turned to follow the stream again. Quickly, Mia stooped to gather a double handful of snow. Scarcely believing that she was daring to do this, she called to the Warrior of Halo. "Hey, Sage!"
The blond boy turned, one eyebrow raised at her.
"Lighten up," she said, and pitched the snowball at him.
The offending missile caught Sage completely off-guard, striking him in the side of the head, stinging his ear and melting in little rivulets over his collar and shoulder.
Everything was completely still for a second.
Uh oh. I think I went too far, Mia thought, taking a small step backwards. There was a light in Sage's shocked eyes that she'd never seen before, and she stood helpless, frozen, waiting for his reaction.
"Mia Koji," he rumbled dangerously. "You are going to get it!" And with the speed of the deer he was so fond of, the Warrior of Halo had scooped up a snowball of his own and hurled it at her.
"Ooh!" Mia cried as the cold snow hit her shoulder. Staggering, she saw that he was already gathering more ammunition. Shrieking with laughter, she whirled, trying to avoid the barrage and return fire. And Sage was laughing, too, stumbling and throwing snow in her direction. Before long, they were out of breath, unable to keep their balance. Mia fell first, giving up and laying back on the ground, her breath smoky, giggling gasps.
Sage shook his head like a lion, sending snowflakes clouding over his jacket. Mia laughed softly, and he reached to help her up, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes, turning them mirror-bright instead of winter-cool. He looked amazing when he smiled, she decided. It changed his already handsome face wonderfully for the better. She only wished he'd do it more often.
He held onto her hands for a minute more as she got to her feet. Their faces were very close, cloudy breath mingling. That new light sparkled through Sage's eyes; he raised one hand to her face, and Mia thought he was going to kiss her.
He didn't kiss her. Instead, he lightly tapped her cheek with his fingertips and said, "Tag. You're it."
While she was still surprised, he wheeled and ran. Mia shook her head and gave a whooping chuckle before she started chasing him.
Sage could hear Mia behind him, and it was wonderful to run in the snow without fear of danger, without an armored Warlord in hot pursuit. How wonderful to allow himself to be caught—to want to be caught.
It was at the top of a hill towards the house that she managed it. Out of breath from laughing, Sage slowed at the crest of the slope, and Mia pounced, arms locking around his waist, cheek pressed against his shoulder. Her momentum knocked him over, sent them both sprawling down the hill.
The world became a blur of snow and sky, rolling over and over in cold, her arms tight around him, his around her. Eventually gravity let go of them and he was able to discern whose arms and legs belonged to whom, but he was loath to disentangle himself from Mia. She seemed similarly disinclined to move; she rested against his chest, breath escaping in little puffs. Did he imagine he could feel her pounding heart through the thick winter coats?
"Sage?" Mia asked softly, smiling at him. She'd never looked more beautiful to him, her color hectically brilliant from laughter and cold, her eyes full of the warmth of a shared moment of happiness. "Sage, are you okay?"
Okay? He was better than okay, and it was all because of her. How to thank her, to tell her? How to let her know that he'd always break the ice for her, no matter what?
"We should play in the snow more often," she murmured, letting her head fall against his shoulder.
Perhaps there was a way to tell her after all.
"I agree," Sage said, brushing snow from her hair with gentle fingers. "You're so pretty in white."
Author's Notes:
Talk about raising the dead! Typing this up brought me wayyyy back! But I'm so happy to have it here finally.
Seiji is love.