13Author's Note: Thank you for sticking around! I will try and update every other week if possible. Please review so I can keep my motivation up! If you are an old follower from months back, please keep in mind that the first chapter has been radically changed and this chapter has also been changed. This chapter is dedicated to Aimz, of whom I had quite a number of nice conversations with.
Ephemeral
Chapter 2: Fool's Game
Racing against time, figuratively speaking, was a fool's game. Yes, he was quite aware of it, but as fundamentally sound as he was, he wasn't one to leave questions unturned. As soon as… As soon as things were done here, he would take things into his own hands.
Steady sheets of rain showered over the local train station. It left a hint of crisp spring in the air, though the typical gentle colors of the incoming season were nowhere to be seen. The bursting cherry blossoms were drenched in thick droplets, tussled by an occasional gust. He stood alone against the bustling streams of monochromic-clad men and women, all seeking a cramped spot on the transit to the next city.
Tadase stuck out like a sore thumb, standing there with an unspoken purpose written upon his soft features. He tucked himself under a rusted wall-lamp near the entrance of the station as it bathed him in an unsteady flicker of saffron.
He made it clear that he wasn't here for a ride. His place was here and, in fact, he had both feet firmly rooted to this peculiar city of friend and foe, of unrelenting change, and... of family.
What exactly was this familiar sense of defeat that washed over him?
It was the same lonesome feeling that anyone would get if they were used to watching someone's backside recede into a faceless crowd.
Tadase sighed, shaking his head out of disapproval over his own thoughts. Really, there was no need for melodramatics.
Sentimentality? Sure.
But this? No, thank you.
All he wished was for his chest to stop its dull aching, simply for the couple that would leave him once more.
As a detached voice drawled over the intercom, Tadase's garnet eyes flickered over to the automatic glass doors that were sliding closed. Moreover, he was taking one last glance at the middle-aged couple behind those doors.
For them. This was all for them.
It was cold on this side of the station- bitter and inevitably lonely as well. But his lips curled into a gentle smile and he found himself waving farewell as though nothing was wrong, as though he was perfectly happy. And he sure hoped they believed it. His eyes betrayed nothing, as the couple returned his gesture with stiff ones of their own.
The train rolled out of the station, as the couple's tired faces slipped out of sight, though not out of mind. Closing his eyes for a moment, Tadase etched their solemn smiles into his head once again. He was used to this by now- or at least, he should have been. The fading noise of those cranking train wheels, the rustle of stray newspapers and the sound of silence, all converging into a scene he had become accustomed to over the years.
They were present when he was younger. That's what counted, correct? Nowadays, they were only at home when it was convenient to them. And those days were gradually dwindling as he grew older.
They needed to maintain stable associations within the family's company. Moreover, they had a particular obligation to supervise the marketing outlets of Easter. Under secrecy, of course. Tadase knew they were merely watching over it from afar; had they actually known where all the funds were actually going, he would have talked to them himself. But to them, it was all for a best friend who left everything, everyone, behind. They were constantly on the go. Business knew no bounds, after all.
Yes, surely, they had their reasons. (1) It was just something he was forced to accept a long time ago, despite the acrid taste it left in his mouth.
And so, he was alone, accompanied only by the dull thud of rain against the station's roof and a string of strained smiles.
"Tadase. Tadase!" (2)
A gruff voice resonated above him, giving him a swift reminder that he was never really alone.
"There is nothing else for us to see, so let's head out."
Kiseki floated down to look his kid in the eye before snapping his gaze away. Crossing his arms against his chest, he huffed. "Hmph. Don't forget! A king holds himself straight. Through rain and wind!"
Tadase dropped another smile just for him, though it felt warmer in every way.
"Yes… I suppose you're right, Kiseki," His weary gaze dropped away from the tunnel that swallowed them up for another month or so.
It was nothing.
Tadase pivoted on his heels, turning towards the dimly lit entrance. His footsteps clacked out of rhythm. In fact, he felt as if he had been hanging by mannequin strings, taut and strained from a force other than his own.
Yeah, he definitely needed to get out of here before he drowned in a puddle of his own thespian poetry.
Pulling his black umbrella overhead, Tadase hurried out into the rain. Evening had settled on the horizon. He strolled sluggishly, past obstructive puddles and battering waves of rain drops. No matter how much his thoughts ebbed and waned, there were some memories that bubbled to the surface.
He reminisced of his grandmother's astute prudence, the kind of shrewd insight that danced in the light of her eyes. The songs of his youth with the Tsukiyomi Family burst from the seams of his mind. And the faces of his friends played back in his head, their smiles lopsided and emanating with the awkward glow of adolescence.
It wasn't like him to let something like this get to him. This was for them. He had to keep going, he had to hold his head up, he just needed to convince himself that...
'I'll be… okay.'
The rain stopped for no one. Tadase took to following the streetlights, taking in too much at once while not taking in anything at all. The world seemed to solely consist of blurs, abstract like strokes of watercolor on a blank canvas.
He continued to wander, although his shadow made more of a presence than he did.
As his shadow crossed each light that struck the ground in ripples, Tadase found his way past Seiyo's gated entrance. He swept across the grounds, paying no mind to the monumental school that made its presence known for miles.
Now, there were days when Tadase couldn't have enough of the rain: when it rapped against his window in heavy sheets, let him collect his thoughts or even when it cleared away. Something about it usually seemed… just right.
But today, as he found himself winding up the road towards the observatory, he could have thought twice about that preference.
Light cascaded from the observatory doors, abruptly stopping his thoughts in their tracks. A single voice pierced through the rain.
"Tadase-kun? Come in, come in... You must get out of the rain before you catch something."
It wasn't them but... at least it was someone.
"Don't you think it's about time-"
A coarse scoff snuffed the life out of that answer. Tsukasa was asking for too much this time.
"'Can't say I share the same sentiments, Tsukasa." He was tentative, disconcerted almost. As inconspicuous as he tried to play it off as, Ikuto was far too sore to keep a stoic face.
Yoru huffed in agreement; a true yes-man at heart, hmm?
"Now, now. I must say that your time frequenting the world with me had come to an end a long time ago, Ikuto."
Tsukasa continued, turning away from him.
"As such, your companionship is not demanded."
"Cut the crap, Tsukasa. I'm not going home. Not yet, anyway," Ikuto dismissed Tsukasa's oh-so subtle hint to get him out of here and back home to his mother.
"Souko… After all this, is she not to be forgiven?"
It's not that but…
Ikuto opened his mouth to retort, but couldn't come up with something that would trump Tsukasa at his own game. Because, after all, Tsukasa was right. But at the same time, very, very wrong.
Certainly, Ikuto had to talk to her. She alienated their family with that second marriage of hers but… She did it to make sure they were financially stable.
Money wasn't everything. But he could see why she did the things she did. Adults. The choices they made were far more complicated than he could wrap his mind around.
It was still a sickening thought, however. He wasn't built to forgive immediately.
"It's not that easy, Tsukasa. You know it isn't."
"...I see. Well I suppose," He paused, taking a short look out the window. (2) "...That nothing ever is as simple as it seems."
Ikuto's gaze followed and he caught on quite quickly to the situation. Yoru seemed to realize the same thing, as he meowed warily.
"You invited Kiddy- Tadase, too? What are you trying to play at, Tsukasa?"
He… also had business with Tadase he needed to talk out. But the time and place for this wasn't now.
"Absolutely nothing, Ikuto-kun. He came here on his own volition. Surely you know that fate works in ways even I don't understand."
"...Right."
He took to one of the back windows, opening it up before Tsukasa could stop him. Not that Tsukasa did anything of the sort; he just observed silently as Ikuto tried to get his footing straight. There was something about that look in Tsukasa's eyes that…
"What's wrong now?" Ikuto murmured.
Tsukasa tossed him an umbrella, before answering. "I think you know what's wrong."
Ikuto snorted, and before Tadase could reach the door, he was already flipping into the rain.
Yeah. He knew what was wrong.
He was running again.
Fingers twined around the silver cross that hung by his collarbone. Lying back against his own bed, of which seemed just about the same as he last left it, Ikuto's gaze focused on nothing in particular. Same old room, same old bed, same old dusty, neglected desk- everything seemed unaffected, indifferent even. Nothing about the world had changed.
Nothing aside from himself, that is.
How could he put it? He couldn't particularly describe how it felt in words.
'…Like a dream?'
Bah, what was he, twelve? Ikuto rolled to his side, lifting his attention to the soothing rhythm that tapped against his window. The rain had lightened up, but it still seemed like hell for anyone who was unfortunate enough to get stuck outside. Perhaps that was the cat-like instinct speaking, though.
"Ikuto, nyaa," Yoru floated overhead, coming to a rest on his shoulder. He stretched out each stiff limb, loosening the knots in his tiny shoulders.
"I'm glad you're back! I-I really am..." His voice strained by the stress of weeks past. Yoru had been doing whatever he could to express his relief; that, of course, meant breaking down in tears every so often. They had reunited for only a day, after all.
No matter how many times Yoru chose to tell him, Ikuto's chest ached in a joy he couldn't particularly express. Alongside the joy came a pang of guilt for leaving his Shugo Chara alone for so long.
Wordlessly, he pat Yoru's head in subtle affection. It wasn't like him to say much about the matter. Just this was enough.
"You'll have to get used to me being around again, Yoru," Ikuto smirked half-heartedly. He wasn't all that great at lightening the atmosphere, but thankfully, silent understanding was what bridged their relationship.
And time continued to slip away, just like that. Yoru was fast asleep in his egg; his candle was probably burned on both ends. Once again, he was left to wallow in his own thoughts.
He couldn't exactly register how much time he spent staring up at the ceiling, mulling things over repeatedly. The way Ikuto's body ached, he wasn't in the mood to do much of anything besides thinking. Having his body controlled by the elder Hoshina and Easter took a toll on his health, of which only recently had a day or so to recover.
How difficult was it to accept that his life was back to normal?
'I take that back.'
His life never really was normal to start with.
He was correct from the very beginning; this 'normality' was more like a dream than reality. As much as Ikuto hated to admit it, he didn't know what to do now that he had the freedom to do as he wished. Or rather, he wasn't ready for the future quite yet.
There were things he had yet to let go of. The vibrant pain, the pangs of betrayal, and the steely grasp of desire for a dream he could never have- those emotions he had locked away for years were something he could not easily cut away from. He wasn't ready.
To forgive was a task not yet fit for Ikuto Tsukiyomi. Not yet.
A hesitant knock at his door snapped him back into reality. Without an answer of permission from Ikuto, the shadow from underneath the door stood pensive, as if waiting for a command. Ikuto watched it numbly, before turning his body away and shutting his eyes.
'Not yet.'
His ears piqued, catching the irritating squeak of his door gradually swung open.
He wasn't ready.
"Ikuto…?" The voice, smooth as velvet, called out his name tentatively, as if it wasn't aware of whether it would get a reply. He wasn't ready.
The shadow of a broken, middle-aged woman edged closer before resting steadily on his figure, which was turned away from her.
"Ikuto, I think… I think we need to talk."
Not yet.
"Oh my…" Tsukasa's flittering voice drawled behind an eloquent smile.
"I suppose this is a checkmate, Tadase." He, who in many cases was considered a reflection of what Tadase's future would be, glowed in gentle aloofness.
"Ah... well it was a good game, Tsukasa. Though I definitely will beat you next time!" The young challenger in question wore a mask that was impossible to read. Any hint of desperate curiosity or mild frustration was lost beneath the calm glimmer of his garnet irises. Tadase's gaze absentmindedly followed the tip of his own finger, of which was twirling his king's piece restlessly on its round edge.
It was a much needed distraction from the flittering thoughts that plagued his mind.
Again with that soft grin that knew too much. It was partially because of him—yes, only partially—that Tadase wanted to learn how to read people. But of course, Tadase still had a lot to learn if he ever wanted to understand what Tsukasa shrouded beneath that unassuming smile of his.
"Tsk, tsk. Little did I know, you've been growing up to be quite the straightforward young man, Tadase. Does winning mean so much to you?"
Kiseki chimed in on impulse, huffing with an air of confidence that was borderline eccentric. "Of course-!"
"-Not, Tsukasa." Tadase cut him off, swiftly and peacefully. He had gotten far too experienced at taking Kiseki down a notch.
"There's no need to stuff words in my mouth, Kiseki..."
"But-"
Winning? Was that even something of concern? Well, his dreams had always gone along the lines of 'world domination' or 'being the king of my own little world'. In a way, he supposed that he really did want to win… but to say that that was all he wished for… That couldn't have been it, right? Flipping his gaze from Kiseki to Tsukasa, he responded accordingly.
"Well- Actually, I don't think it'd be bad to be victorious."
"Hmph, so you've decided to reinforce your king's motives after all, haha!"
"However, I doubt that winning is the only point," Tadase cut off his guardian character once more.
Normally, he'd give an easy laugh to brush off Kiseki's outbursts, sweeping the peculiar mix of secondhand embarrassment and resignation under the rug. But for this moment in time, Tadase could not simply laugh it off.
Simply winning a game was never the point, right? He had begun to question what his goals of world domination actually curtailed… There must have been something else to it.
"You know exactly what my feelings around this matter are," Tadase's voice did not waver, despite the partial doubt that unrelentingly flirted with his mind.
"Do I?" Tsukasa inquired casually. "Tadase, you should know better than I about the matters of your heart. Or are you saying you don't exactly know what you're playing for?" He was having a jolly good time twisting Tadase's words around, wasn't he?
It was not the first time Tsukasa's quick wit slipped the ground away from beneath Tadase's feet nor would it be the last.
"I-" A pause. Self-doubt was an unwelcome friend that leered its familiar face through the window. So much for a comeback.
Tadase had had enough of these playful quips back and forth. "The Embryo, Tsukasa! There's something about it that is off."
Legend had it that an egg of tremendous power would be able to grant one's greatest wish. But, supposedly, generations had passed without any successful encounters, leaving behind only tales of unfruitful searches. (3) Even Tadase and his friends had failed to capture the Embryo, but there was a shared understanding that life would go on, even if they never did. Time had a knack of moving forward, after all.
Something still struck Tadase's mind as odd though. This entire business about Shugo Charas, Dream Eggs and the Embryo itself was still an enigma, really- and he was determined to make sense of it all.
"I'm only playing this game because you won't say a word about it unless I beat you." What Tadase wanted was the truth and nothing but the truth. It was unfortunate that the truth had to come with a price.
"So you're playing this game with the understanding that I might not have what you're looking for?" That was a pressing question. What if Tsukasa was playing him for a fool? He wasn't one to manipulate out of malicious intent, but perhaps Tsukasa really didn't know any more than the rest of them did.
He may not have had any information that Tadase didn't already know. But despite all that…
His garnet gaze shone in defiant persistence.
"I'm willing to find out."
A fool's game it may be. But it was a game he was willing to play.
[Afternotes]:
(1) Aside from flashbacks and about two nonchalant references, Tadase's parents were absent in all present scenes that were centered around his house, giving off the impression that they were the on-again-off-again type of parents. His grandmother was his main caretaker until her bedridden injury.
(2) Did you think it was Amu? If you did, you are silly readers. If you didn't, now you can see the parallels of the first chapter.
(3) Episode 36-37's Shuraiya arc, with the foreign prince looking for a queen, mentions that Shuraiya's father had once gone to Seiyo also seeking the Embryo. Shuraiya was convinced that he'd try to attain it for himself as well. Its story has reached far and wide.
Date Updated: 7/21/15
Reviews would be appreciated!
