Sylvan Reverie by Starsea

What would the world be, once bereft
Of wet and wildness? Let them be left,
O let them be left, wildness and wet;
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.

Gerard Manley Hopkins - Inversnaid

It was good to get out of the city, even though it was a beautiful city. Nephrite liked people but occasionally the crowds made him twitchy. He'd start to fidget, his feet would itch and he'd gaze out of the window at the sky. That was when Kunzite ordered him into the mountains and he would grumble and pretend that he was only doing it because of the order, when really they both knew that if he didn't leave right now, he'd end up breaking some bones. He and Kunzite understood each other. Well, Kunzite understood him.

He lifted his arms above his head, moved his shoulders from side to side, and then let his arms swing down with a sigh. He loved the fact he could do this. There wasn't another person for miles. It was just him, the forest and its inhabitants. Bliss. He patted a tree trunk and turned around, ready to visit the best part of his country retreat. Through the hollow, along the ravine and down the cliff path, where the noise already rushed upon your ears like a low murmur, growing louder and louder as the trees thinned and fell away to expose the rock beneath their roots. They parted suddenly, almost like curtains, and then he was there, staring at it. His waterfall.

It wasn't his, of course, but he couldn't help thinking of it like that. He'd found it the first time he'd come here, and every time he came back, he made a pilgrimage to see it. The roar and thunder of the water... the sheer unrestrained power of it... perhaps it did remind him of her, but in a good way. Only in general terms, no specifics. Nothing that could hurt him. He took a deep breath of the damp air and began to climb down to the pool. He was so busy concentrating on his feet that he didn’t realise there was someone else in the pool until he heard a cry of surprise, looked up, then couldn’t look away.

Makoto was in the pool. Naked. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” she yelled.

The anger in her voice shocked Nephrite back into thinking. “Me?!” he said, tearing his eyes away from the curves of her body. “What about you?! This is my special place!”

“Yours?!”

“Yes, mine! I discovered it five years ago and I’ve been coming here ever since! What about you?”

There was a silence. The roar of the waterfall filled it and Nephrite fixed his eyes on the silver curtain with relief, almost losing himself in the fact of gravity in motion. Then he heard the sounds of her getting out of the water.

“Not that long,” she said, sullen but not furious any longer. “And I discovered this place a couple of years ago… so I suppose it is ‘yours’, in that sense. If I’d known you came here…”

“I know, you wouldn’t even have thought to swim in the pool, let alone swim naked. Trust me, I know.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. The place was spoiled now. His private paradise, his secret retreat… he couldn’t go anywhere that wasn’t somehow touched by her.

He heard the slap of wet feet and hands on stone, knew that she was dressing herself. His body tingled, as it always did when she was near, both with the memory of his death and the fainter memories before that, memories that he would not allow himself to remember while awake.

“Nephrite…”

“What?” he said, not looking at her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… to spoil your retreat.”

He turned, staring at her. She was hugging herself, teeth biting her lower lip, plump and pink. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the kick of desire. “I know you didn’t mean to,” he said. “It’s a beautiful place. I can understand why it would appeal to you.”

“I love waterfalls,” she said, her voice soft.

“I know.”

She met his eyes, surprised. Roses bloomed in her cheeks. He took a few steps towards her and then stopped himself by sheer force of will. How the hell did Kunzite resist Minako? Makoto wasn’t even flirting and he felt like she was his opposing magnet. The east to his west.

“You should go,” he said, forcing the words out of his throat.

“Is that what you want?” Her eyes were so clear, so soft, green like forest glades.

“Since when did you care what I want?” he demanded, harsh, hostile, hoping she would take the hint.

“Because you’re hiding something. You’re saying one thing with your voice and another with your eyes. That’s not like you.”

“I’m not like Kunzite,” Nephrite said, clenching his hands into fists. “I’m not good at being noble. I’m not strong like him. My God, I never realised how much strength it took to do this…”

“To do what?” She reached out for him and he jerked back, turning away.

“Go! What do I have to do to make you understand, turn evil again?!” He ran his hands through his hair, damp from the mist in the air. He could see that Makoto’s hair was already curling, those delicious curls that used to wrap around his fingers…

“All right.” She sounded unbelievably calm. “I’ll go. I won’t tell anyone that you’re here. It can be our secret.”

He had to swallow twice before he could reply. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She said nothing else. He felt her leave but he didn’t move for a long time. He listened to the roar of the water, watched gravity pull it down into the pool as it pulled the tears down his face.


DISCLAIMER: Both characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. The poem belongs to the estate of Gerard Manley Hopkins. I own nothing.