‘Sometimes you need to fail in order to succeed.’
Shaking his head, the man crumbled both the small slip of paper and the fortune cookie in his hand and threw them on the pavement, contempt visible on his handsome but haughty features. Ever since memories of a life that would always be both past and present had begun to creep up on him, he knew that he was a walking, talking failure, so he didn’t need a bloody biscuit to tell him that.
He was all alone and that was something he wasn’t cut out for. Granted, there were the odd times when he preferred to take a solitary walk in the woods in the middle of the night, but since the stars talked to him, he wasn’t lonely. But the turn of the year had pushed his far away companions into silence. Work colleagues and former friends didn’t cut it anymore, for he longed for the easy companionship he had enjoyed with his fellow shitennou and for the deep and loving understanding he had shared with her.
Making his way through the Azabu district, he passed parks, people and buildings without further glance. Hiromasa walked on and on, as if this would allow him to shake the demons that clung to him like children to their mothers. What remains of one life if you suddenly remember another one? Names changed, but did people? In this time and day, he was called Hiromasa. Not long ago, dying warriors desperately shouted ‘Nephrite’ as if that might have changed a mind tainted by Beryl and softened a heart swallowed by darkness. Dusk began to settle around him, and looking up, his eyes met the cheekiest of the stars. Those that came out before the sun had properly set and slowly began to whisper words of magic and secrets into his willing ears. His breath hitched in his throat, so complete was his surprise at finding himself included in their nightly banter again.
Minutes passed and he stood very still, soaking it all up, for he had missed them. Suddenly, all of them appeared on the deep blue horizon, their light illuminating the narrow street he was standing in for the briefest of seconds, before they disappeared behind a wide grey cloud that swallowed all of their words but one. Here.
A familiar excitement crept upon his skin, making it tingle with life. His eyes scanned the street for something he wasn’t even aware of and a promise forgotten for a thousand years drew him to the lightened front windows of a small shop. Inching closer, he peered in and made out a young woman who was busy painting the walls in a soft green colour.
Pushing the door open, the tinkling of a delicate bell rang through the rooms. When she turned to face the intruder, the brush fell out of her hand, decorating the floor with driblets of paint. He tentatively stepped towards her, considering for a moment whether he was allowed to touch her after all these times.
“You came back to me. You kept your promise.”
A smile spread on Makoto’s face as she took his hand, holding it as tightly as he held hers.
There were no kisses of wild abandon that night, no joyous shouts; only two hands holding on to each other for dear life, two pairs of eyes taking each other in and two hearts reconnecting.
His name was Hiromasa, her name was Makoto. They used to be Nephrite and Amalthea: Lovers, enemies, friends.
What remains of one life if you suddenly remember another one? Everything, Nothing, More.
Above them, the stars smiled.
