http://clampfix.fanworks.net/others/sla3.txt </head><body><pre>* * * Something Like an Angel [3 and Epilogue] * * * The dinner hour was long past. Kazuhiko shifted from foot to foot as he beat again on the door, then hammered the doorbell a few extra times. There was still no response, and he didn't like that a bit. He decided to allow one more minute, and then he was going in. Despite much reluctance on the part of the other man, he had gotten Gingetsu to give him security clearance for the house, "for safety's sake," so he could enter at any time by pressing his palm to the key panel. He counted down every last second, then shoved his hand flat against the wall, and the door slid open. There, standing in the middle of the living room, was Gingetsu, reaching into empty space as though to caress something, and talking to the air. Now, talking to the air was not necessarily a problem, and in fact was a typical method of communicating with one's superiors. But from the snatches of Gingetsu's speech that he could distinguish, the man was speaking casually--much too casually for that theory to hold. Oh, shit, Kazuhiko thought. Shit shit shit. This was not good. He resisted the urge to panic and run, in case his former commander really had gone off the deep end--he knew how long it took Gingetsu to summon his sword, and exactly what kind of wicked damage that blade could do to an opponent's body--but everything about the blond man's stance bespoke tremendous gentleness, of the kind he had seen Gingetsu direct at only one person. But that wasn't necessarily good, either, considering that said person was no longer among the living, and Gingetsu was still talking to the air. Kazuhiko edged carefully around the room, with the aim of putting himself in the other man's line of sight, and when he judged he had accomplished that, cleared his throat loudly. The visored gaze shifted to him, then back to the air, then back to him, and slowly the raised hand lowered. Kazuhiko allowed himself a small helping of optimism. Then the other man muttered something to the air again, quietly enough to be inaudible, and the hope got stuck in Kazuhiko's throat. Whatever the air answered, Gingetsu seemed unsurprised. At last he turned fully to Kazuhiko and gestured impatiently for him to stop hovering. Still sweating with some trepidation, he obeyed and approached. "Hey. Sorry to barge in, but...there wasn't any answer, and since you said you'd be around, I got a little bit nervous." "Ryuu, I'm not going to kill myself." The usually low and level voice rose sharply with impatience. "Well, that's good news. Glad to hear it." Kazuhiko decided to go for seconds on the optimism. "Ah, I'm not sure how to put this, but I couldn't help noticing the way you were...talking to the air just now. Is that a new development?" Gingetsu's mouth flattened into a perfect line. "Not the air," he said at last. "No?" "No." The man held up a cable that ran between his visor and a portable sitting on the couch. "It's a program." "Oh!" Kazuhiko bent over and wheezed with a heady combination of laughter and relief. "Voice recognition? Man, you really had me going there for a minute." His laughter died as he saw his commander shifting to gaze into space again and nod. Well, he thought, probably it was some kind of virtual reality program, and not just voice recognition. Probably it would be best to believe that. "I'll be sending my resignation notice soon," Gingetsu continued. "Resig--you're quitting?" Kazuhiko blinked. "For good? I thought you'd be charging straight back to work. I mean, it would keep your mind off stuff, keep you busy." "I have no desire to work for or with the government any longer." There was an unusual edge to his tone, although it didn't sound quite like bitterness. Clearly the man had come to some kind of decision, and he'd reached it entirely on his own, with no consultation. Kazuhiko couldn't help feeling a little put out. But wasn't that typical Gingetsu? He supposed he should be glad if his friend was returning to normal patterns of operation, even if they were the ones that drove him crazy. "Well, it's not like I'm going to blame you for that," he said. "Ryuu." "Really, I suppose I ought to congratulate you for finally seeing the light." "Ryuu, there are some things...you should know about. I may be leaving here soon, and I want to tell you before I go." Kazuhiko stared at him, hard. "I thought you said you were sticking around," he said, his voice simmering dangerously. "Not leaving like that. Leaving the country." "What? To go where?" "Just...elsewhere." Seeing the sheer confusion glazing Kazuhiko's face, he drew a deep breath. "You'll understand better once I explain. But sit down." "Fine," Kazuhiko said. "I'm listening." The story of the entire Clover Leaf Project and its unfortunate results took surprisingly little time to tell. Kazuhiko's reactions took longer, as did his demands to know more, which Gingetsu often found himself unable to satisfy. At last he convinced the other man that he'd coughed up everything he could. Then simple hunger reasserted itself over Kazuhiko, and he left to pick up some take-out, still grappling with information overload. As his friend departed, Gingetsu turned back to his other listener. "There," he said. Ran, who had been, to his eyes, sitting quietly through the whole conversation, nodded. "I'm glad you told him. What he does now is up to him." A pause. "How soon are you going to leave?" "As soon as I finish everything." He was still unsure how best to escape, given that he would likely be trailed by shadows of lethal intent. He would have to travel light, that was certain. As if in response to his thought, Ran smiled just a little bit smugly. "I can still run the transport, you know." "But you're--" "It's part of my specifications. The cage will be good for one more trip. Outbound." Gingetsu subsided, and decided not to boggle at this latest piece of anticipatory sorcery. He merely let his gaze, and for a little while longer, his heart, rest on the winged young man, who, in the effort to salvage him from the wreckage of their tangled tragedy, had thought of everything. The one who, never able to fly, had bequeathed him wings. But he'd always known he was living with something like an angel. * * * He walked through the empty house one last time. The memories seething in every room no longer choked him; he could slip through them as though gliding through water, feeling them all around him, but able to move without drowning. Even the boxes were gone now, all sent to their proper places. The furniture and stereo were staying, as the buyer had purchased them with the house. He had met the woman, a divorced physician with two young daughters. The little girls had run and pressed their noses to the windows in the great room, exclaiming at the view. As he watched them, his last few reservations about relinquishing the house melted. The girls and their mother would fill the rooms with new memories. He would carry his own with him. It was raining again today, bathing the living room in pale gray light. In the corner loomed the wire cage of the transport, which he'd prepared according to Ran's instructions. Beside it squatted his single duffel bag, military green and stuffed to the gills. Where he and it were going, he had decided to leave in the hands of his rescuer. Someplace far, near the sea, someplace where you could see the stars. Someplace else, where there were no Clovers, or where they grew wild, without restraints, beneath the sky. Perhaps there was no such place. For now, he would go where Ran sent him. He did not ask about his destination. Ran had never had the luxury of knowing what lay on the other side of the dark. Cradling the portable computer in his hands, he approached the cage. Quiet footsteps sounded on the carpet behind him. He turned to face the boy, whose face was turned up to him, patient and accepting. "Is it time to say goodbye?" It was hard to keep from stiffening at that word, but Gingetsu managed. "We did that already." "Yeah," Ran agreed. "It's not the kind of thing you want to do twice." Gingetsu laid the computer on the floor and took up the duffel bag. "I left some of your things with Ryuu for now," he told Ran. "The lamp, for one. He'll try to send them later. Is that all right?" "Yeah, I think so." Ran seemed to ponder for a moment, and then smiled. "Maybe he'll find somebody to light it for. Did you say goodbye to him?" "I said 'See you later.'" "That's good. I'm sure you'll see him again." When he noticed the way Gingetsu was gazing at him, his eyes widened, and gripped Gingetsu's sleeve in alarm. "You don't have to worry about me! I'll take care of everything here. I get to play all kinds of havoc with this thing, so nobody will be able to use it for nasty purposes." He patted the metal bars of the cage as one would fondly pet a loyal old canine. Gingetsu was not diverted. "You'll be erased, won't you." It was not a question. Closing his eyes serenely, the boy only nodded. "I've known what would become of me from the start." "Does that make it any better?" The pale brow creased beneath rogue strands of dark hair, but then cleared once again. Ran opened his eyes. "I can go if you can," he said. Gingetsu was silent. He lifted his free arm to pull the lithe form close, one last time. Fingertips brushed feathers. "They're good wings," he said, and was dismayed to find that his voice was hoarse. "Thank you." Ran smiled into his shirt, then at last stepped back to let him climb into the cage. "Walk along the sea for me," he whispered. Being what he was, he needed no cords or wires this time. Laying one hand on the side of the cage, he interfaced. The last thing Gingetsu saw before the world dissolved around him was that subtle smile, softened at the edges with love. Then everything vanished in the whirl and rush of wings. * * * Epilogue * * * Before they went to sleep for the first time in their new house, Takahashi Emi told her sister Aiko a story. "A little bird used to live here," she said, leaning down from the top bunk, her hair tumbling madly over her face. Wide-eyed, her sister peeked out from under the rumpled blanket. "Really?" "Really. I know, because I saw him. A little bird in a golden cage. He was a magic bird, and all the princes and lords and even the Emperor had locked him up in the cage, because they were afraid of his magic." "Was he sad in the cage?" "Sometimes he was sad. But there was a person who took care of him, so he wasn't all alone. That person was really nice, so the little bird was happy." "What happened to him? The bird." "He got sick and died," said Emi. Aiko's face crumpled with distress. Sometimes Emi's stories had such awful endings. Without much enthusiasm, she asked, "Then what about the person who took care of him? Wasn't he sad, like you were when the hamster died?" "He was sad, but the little bird left him wings, and then he flew away." "Wait a minute. Was this person very big? If he was big, how could he fly on little bird wings?" "I told you, it was a magic bird!" "Your stories are stupid. I'm going to sleep." With that, Aiko rolled over and firmly pulled her pink, kitty-patterned blanket over her head. Disgusted with this unappreciative reception, Emi stuck out her tongue (even though Aiko couldn't see it under the covers) and flung herself back against her pillow with a huff. It wasn't a stupid story, and anyway, it wasn't as if she'd just made it up. She was only reporting. The ghost of the bird had been shy in the beginning, but she prided herself on being good with ghosts. Usually all they really wanted was to talk to somebody. At first she'd been wary of the new house, because of all the leftover magic in it, but now she decided she liked it. It was definitely a lot more exciting than their old apartment, which was, as far as she knew, without supernatural interest entirely, other than being occasionally visited by the spirit of the hamster. Her mother and sister, as she had learned over time, were unaware of such things, so it was her task to keep tabs on them. One did have to be watchful. There was an awful lot of magic in the world. * * * Author's Notes: The translation of Ran's lines from Clover 4 used in part 1 is my own. BGM for the first part was, much as it shames me to admit it, X Japan's "Endless Rain." I wasn't listening to it while writing, but pieces of part 3 came from Sarah McLachlan's "Angel." Thanks to Jonna for her comments!</pre><p><a href="./">Back</a></p><p><a href=http://www.dreamhost.com/donate.cgi?id=216><img border=0 alt="Donate towards our web hosting bill!" src=https://secure.newdream.net/donate1.gif></a></p></body></html>