[Bokurano] fic: Those Left Behind: Centuries before I come to where you are
I think I'll always be a bit late with these, heh. Almost one hour past the deadline I set for myself. ):
Title: Those Left Behind: Centuries before I come to where you are
Day/Theme: Aug 18 Centuries before I come to where you are
Series: Bokurano
Character/Pairing: Kokopelli, mentions of others
Rating: PG
Notes: for 31_days. Manga canon with spoilers for pretty much the whole thing. I hope I portrayed Kokopelli well enough...I feel like I don't know him all that well.
Archive: LJ | ffnet
-----
"You kids, want to play a game?
-----
When Garaku opened his eyes, he was greeted by endless blue. The ocean and the sky had melted into one gradual entity, a grand painting that would have been beautiful to anyone's eyes but his. He could hear the sound of waves and the occasional call of birds, common sounds of the beach. They meant nothing to him either.
This was a peaceful world, but it wasn't his.
"Ah, ah," he murmured and turned his back on the breathtaking sight. "Living here is impossible after all, isn't it?"
The white creature that floated next to him snorted.
"Damn right. You're here for a reason."
It was a strange feeling walking along the shoreline of this world that wasn't his when the warm sand beneath his feet seemed to tell a different tale. In all the away battles he had been part of, he had remained in the cockpit with the other pilots. Sightseeing had never ever crossed his mind. He doubted any of the others had been all that curious about the enemy worlds with their lives at stake. They had been too busy fighting each other to notice just how fascinating and terrifying these alternative worlds were in their similarity.
Sightseeing wasn't his intention now either. He had one more job he had to do before he could rest. He touched the scar on his cheek and began to plan.
-----
"I am...Kokopelli."
-----
He pretended he didn't know the girl who was to be the pilot after him. He didn't know whether to think of Machi as fortunate or cursed. They were comrades and partners in crime, heroes of a world that would soon forget these people who weren't even on her soil. He would soon be claimed by eternal sleep that would free him from the guilt of leading these fourteen children into a mad game, powerless as he was to stop it. She, on the other hand, was going to have to endure the battles all over again from the beginning. Would she survive yet again this time around? Or would she end up caring too much about this world that wasn't theirs?
Those she had assembled were all merely children, but the fate of their world now depended on them. Perhaps he ought to be sympathetic, but his heart had long turned cold. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to survive until now.
This last battle, his battle, their first, was one with no room for mourning. The others had gone ahead of him. They weren't waiting for him, but it was his time to join them. He wasn't a kind man, but he would instruct these children as best as he could because he was a professor at heart and could not bear not imparting knowledge, not when this knowledge was so crucial to their survival. This would be his only act of kindness for them.
Mercilessly, he tore into the inexperienced enemy that didn't know they were merely being used in a tutorial. He wasn't going to let his solitary light be extinguished in such a place. He would win no matter how many lives he ended this day.
When he finally crushed the enemy cockpit, he felt no joy. The children gasped in awe behind him, but he paid them no heed. Instead, he spared a glance at the empty chairs that floated around him, chairs that had belonged to cowards and opportunists, all dead or insane save for the girl and her detestable brother. But no matter how ugly the owners of the chairs had behaved, he remembered each and every one of them and how those that had stayed had ultimately fought for their world.
With this last battle, their saga had come to an end. With his duty completed, he could now rest. The battles would still continue, the cycles repeating over and over from one world to the next, but they no longer concerned him.
They no longer concerned him, but he was still sorry.
-----
the end
Title: Those Left Behind: Centuries before I come to where you are
Day/Theme: Aug 18 Centuries before I come to where you are
Series: Bokurano
Character/Pairing: Kokopelli, mentions of others
Rating: PG
Notes: for 31_days. Manga canon with spoilers for pretty much the whole thing. I hope I portrayed Kokopelli well enough...I feel like I don't know him all that well.
Archive: LJ | ffnet
-----
"You kids, want to play a game?
-----
When Garaku opened his eyes, he was greeted by endless blue. The ocean and the sky had melted into one gradual entity, a grand painting that would have been beautiful to anyone's eyes but his. He could hear the sound of waves and the occasional call of birds, common sounds of the beach. They meant nothing to him either.
This was a peaceful world, but it wasn't his.
"Ah, ah," he murmured and turned his back on the breathtaking sight. "Living here is impossible after all, isn't it?"
The white creature that floated next to him snorted.
"Damn right. You're here for a reason."
It was a strange feeling walking along the shoreline of this world that wasn't his when the warm sand beneath his feet seemed to tell a different tale. In all the away battles he had been part of, he had remained in the cockpit with the other pilots. Sightseeing had never ever crossed his mind. He doubted any of the others had been all that curious about the enemy worlds with their lives at stake. They had been too busy fighting each other to notice just how fascinating and terrifying these alternative worlds were in their similarity.
Sightseeing wasn't his intention now either. He had one more job he had to do before he could rest. He touched the scar on his cheek and began to plan.
-----
"I am...Kokopelli."
-----
He pretended he didn't know the girl who was to be the pilot after him. He didn't know whether to think of Machi as fortunate or cursed. They were comrades and partners in crime, heroes of a world that would soon forget these people who weren't even on her soil. He would soon be claimed by eternal sleep that would free him from the guilt of leading these fourteen children into a mad game, powerless as he was to stop it. She, on the other hand, was going to have to endure the battles all over again from the beginning. Would she survive yet again this time around? Or would she end up caring too much about this world that wasn't theirs?
Those she had assembled were all merely children, but the fate of their world now depended on them. Perhaps he ought to be sympathetic, but his heart had long turned cold. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to survive until now.
This last battle, his battle, their first, was one with no room for mourning. The others had gone ahead of him. They weren't waiting for him, but it was his time to join them. He wasn't a kind man, but he would instruct these children as best as he could because he was a professor at heart and could not bear not imparting knowledge, not when this knowledge was so crucial to their survival. This would be his only act of kindness for them.
Mercilessly, he tore into the inexperienced enemy that didn't know they were merely being used in a tutorial. He wasn't going to let his solitary light be extinguished in such a place. He would win no matter how many lives he ended this day.
When he finally crushed the enemy cockpit, he felt no joy. The children gasped in awe behind him, but he paid them no heed. Instead, he spared a glance at the empty chairs that floated around him, chairs that had belonged to cowards and opportunists, all dead or insane save for the girl and her detestable brother. But no matter how ugly the owners of the chairs had behaved, he remembered each and every one of them and how those that had stayed had ultimately fought for their world.
With this last battle, their saga had come to an end. With his duty completed, he could now rest. The battles would still continue, the cycles repeating over and over from one world to the next, but they no longer concerned him.
They no longer concerned him, but he was still sorry.
-----
the end