[Fics: 100 prompts ] 010
Theme: 010 - Years
Words: 1211
Characters: Hyoga, Shiryu, Shun, Ikki, Seiya
Disclaimers: Saint Seiya © Masami Kurumada, Toei and Shueisha.
010 - Years
I.
The perpetual glacier splits into two right before their eyes and the bright white light that follows blinds him.
“Hyoga!” Jakov shouts, eyes closed tight. Even with them shut, he still sees white. It takes him several seconds to recover his vision and by the time he sees again, the treasure shines for them.
“Ah! Is that the Cygnus Cloth?!”
“Sanctuary is ordernig me to go to Japan. Take care of my mother while I’m away.” Hyoga’s words are scarce as he explains the situation to Jakov, the Cloth now adjusted to his body.
The boy’s still numb from the impression but manages to nod. They share a few more words before Hyoga departs to the port.
The Cygnus Saint doesn’t think a farewell is necessary, as he expects to be back in Siberia soon enough. It shouldn’t be too difficult to kill Seiya and the others. Even if years have passed, they are still foolish children.
After all, only fools would go against the Sanctuary.
II.
The Cloth sparkles along with the waterfall, resonating as if they were a sole entity. After all those centuries together, Shiryu is convinced they truly might be one.
“You have become the Dragon Saint,” his master informs him from above. Shiryu looks up to him, arm raised to the sky, and a faint smile appears on his wrinkled face.
When the boy goes back to the cabin he finds it empty, Shunrei nowhere in sight. Regretting not being able to say goodbye to her, he bids farewell to his master and begins his way down to the village.
To his surprise Shunrei is waiting for him at the end of the mountain. He knows what she wants to ask for, but he’s determined to leave alone. That’s what he decided.
“Good luck in Japan,” she whispers. For a moment, Shiryu looked like he would say something but before he could, she turns around. Unable to see him leave, she runs away, back to the old master. The tears that threatened to fall through the way back disappear when she arrives and sees him smiling at her, as if he had something on his mind.
“Master?”
“Shunrei, I might need you to go to Japan after all.”
His request is met with a stunned silence. He nods at her in reassurance, but says nothing else. After all the years he taught the boy, he’s aware of the faults Shiryu refuses to see. Already a strong warrior, albeit an immature one. He knows that in the heat of the battle, something unexpected, like Shunrei’s appearance, would throw Shiryu’s concentration off.
Perhaps a last lesson wouldn’t be a bad idea.
III.
For an instant, Shun thinks he’s going to die. Chained to that rock, without being able to survive the Sacrifice, without being able to see Ikki again, he’s going to die. The sea level keeps rising as he thinks of the Cloth, of how close it was, of how this had been his choice, of how much he doesn’t want to disappoint his master, his brother and himself.
Shun closes his eyes and holds his breath. In the darkness that comes, only the sight of the silver box that contains the Cloth remains.
His Cloth.
It has to be his.
There’s a moment where the tide covers him completely and he knows that it’s time. It’s the one and only instant he’ll have to escape.
I have to go back. I have to show him.
On the rock above the ocean, June and Albiore hold their breaths as the current begins to change its course violently and a whirlpool is formed. For a moment they believe this is the signal that he has joined the many others that failed the Sacrifice, but their doubts dissipate when the sea splits in two and between the waves stands Shun.
The young man only has to look at the Cloth for it to come to him. The chains wrap themselves around Shun’s arms and he realizes how different they are from the ones they used during their training. Those were mere weapons, these have a life on its own.
Shun uses his chains to bring himself to the rocks above and he can’t help but be amazed at how light the Cloth is, at how right it feels to wear it. There are no doubts that now, it is rightfully his. He gained it with his own strength, his own power.
The one he can’t wait to share with his brother to show him just how much he has grown.
IV.
All the Phoenix Cloth brings him is death. Esmeralda is dead, his master his dead. His own heart is dead. But the power that runs through his veins and the sudden determination that fills him is enough to cover the voids left in him.
All I need is within me. As his fingers graze the warm armor, he grins. With one gesture, the warriors of the Death Queen island are ready to follow the Saint’s orders.
After all those years, everything is reduced to the power he has gained, the one he’ll use to destroy those that sent him there.
V.
He can still hear the crowd roaring. They shout at him to give up, to die, to realize that a Japanese has no right to take the Cloth away from the Sanctuary. Each fist of Casios that he manages to evade makes the message even clearer: The Cloth is of the Greeks.
But with every step Seiya takes forward and manages to hit back, with every drop of his rival’s blood spilled, the sounds begin to fade until only the resonance of the universe within him can be felt.
He can hear the Pegasus stronger than ever before. The constellation Marin had taught him of was suddenly clear right in front of his eyes and it speaks words meant only for him.
I will guide you.
Seiya stops suddenly and the stance that follows comes to him as a knowledge so natural as the act of walking. Flowing along with the cosmo, he moves his hands, drawing his constellation in the air. When his fingers reach the last star, he can feel the surge of endless energy pour out from his fists.
And his hands become meteors.
Shaina warns Casios and yells at him to step away, but it’s too late. In a second, Seiya’s fists throw the large man to the ground, blood pooling under him. A dense silence falls upon the coliseum as every person holds their breath, waiting for Casios to react.
Seiya doesn’t hear the Pope declaring him the victor nor the soldiers screaming again, this time in disbelief. All he thinks of is the box that now stands in front of him. His prize.
“I- I did it.”
Even when his fingers graze the carvings on the box, he can’t believe it. But the voice is there, calling him, reaching out to his cosmo. In unison, the two resonate together, forming a bond Seiya had never felt before.
Through his victory he becomes the Pegasus Saint, but Seiya can’t help but feel that it was the Cloth the one that chose him, to guide him to a future he can’t even imagine.
Words: 1211
Characters: Hyoga, Shiryu, Shun, Ikki, Seiya
Disclaimers: Saint Seiya © Masami Kurumada, Toei and Shueisha.
010 - Years
I.
The perpetual glacier splits into two right before their eyes and the bright white light that follows blinds him.
“Hyoga!” Jakov shouts, eyes closed tight. Even with them shut, he still sees white. It takes him several seconds to recover his vision and by the time he sees again, the treasure shines for them.
“Ah! Is that the Cygnus Cloth?!”
“Sanctuary is ordernig me to go to Japan. Take care of my mother while I’m away.” Hyoga’s words are scarce as he explains the situation to Jakov, the Cloth now adjusted to his body.
The boy’s still numb from the impression but manages to nod. They share a few more words before Hyoga departs to the port.
The Cygnus Saint doesn’t think a farewell is necessary, as he expects to be back in Siberia soon enough. It shouldn’t be too difficult to kill Seiya and the others. Even if years have passed, they are still foolish children.
After all, only fools would go against the Sanctuary.
II.
The Cloth sparkles along with the waterfall, resonating as if they were a sole entity. After all those centuries together, Shiryu is convinced they truly might be one.
“You have become the Dragon Saint,” his master informs him from above. Shiryu looks up to him, arm raised to the sky, and a faint smile appears on his wrinkled face.
When the boy goes back to the cabin he finds it empty, Shunrei nowhere in sight. Regretting not being able to say goodbye to her, he bids farewell to his master and begins his way down to the village.
To his surprise Shunrei is waiting for him at the end of the mountain. He knows what she wants to ask for, but he’s determined to leave alone. That’s what he decided.
“Good luck in Japan,” she whispers. For a moment, Shiryu looked like he would say something but before he could, she turns around. Unable to see him leave, she runs away, back to the old master. The tears that threatened to fall through the way back disappear when she arrives and sees him smiling at her, as if he had something on his mind.
“Master?”
“Shunrei, I might need you to go to Japan after all.”
His request is met with a stunned silence. He nods at her in reassurance, but says nothing else. After all the years he taught the boy, he’s aware of the faults Shiryu refuses to see. Already a strong warrior, albeit an immature one. He knows that in the heat of the battle, something unexpected, like Shunrei’s appearance, would throw Shiryu’s concentration off.
Perhaps a last lesson wouldn’t be a bad idea.
III.
For an instant, Shun thinks he’s going to die. Chained to that rock, without being able to survive the Sacrifice, without being able to see Ikki again, he’s going to die. The sea level keeps rising as he thinks of the Cloth, of how close it was, of how this had been his choice, of how much he doesn’t want to disappoint his master, his brother and himself.
Shun closes his eyes and holds his breath. In the darkness that comes, only the sight of the silver box that contains the Cloth remains.
His Cloth.
It has to be his.
There’s a moment where the tide covers him completely and he knows that it’s time. It’s the one and only instant he’ll have to escape.
I have to go back. I have to show him.
On the rock above the ocean, June and Albiore hold their breaths as the current begins to change its course violently and a whirlpool is formed. For a moment they believe this is the signal that he has joined the many others that failed the Sacrifice, but their doubts dissipate when the sea splits in two and between the waves stands Shun.
The young man only has to look at the Cloth for it to come to him. The chains wrap themselves around Shun’s arms and he realizes how different they are from the ones they used during their training. Those were mere weapons, these have a life on its own.
Shun uses his chains to bring himself to the rocks above and he can’t help but be amazed at how light the Cloth is, at how right it feels to wear it. There are no doubts that now, it is rightfully his. He gained it with his own strength, his own power.
The one he can’t wait to share with his brother to show him just how much he has grown.
IV.
All the Phoenix Cloth brings him is death. Esmeralda is dead, his master his dead. His own heart is dead. But the power that runs through his veins and the sudden determination that fills him is enough to cover the voids left in him.
All I need is within me. As his fingers graze the warm armor, he grins. With one gesture, the warriors of the Death Queen island are ready to follow the Saint’s orders.
After all those years, everything is reduced to the power he has gained, the one he’ll use to destroy those that sent him there.
V.
He can still hear the crowd roaring. They shout at him to give up, to die, to realize that a Japanese has no right to take the Cloth away from the Sanctuary. Each fist of Casios that he manages to evade makes the message even clearer: The Cloth is of the Greeks.
But with every step Seiya takes forward and manages to hit back, with every drop of his rival’s blood spilled, the sounds begin to fade until only the resonance of the universe within him can be felt.
He can hear the Pegasus stronger than ever before. The constellation Marin had taught him of was suddenly clear right in front of his eyes and it speaks words meant only for him.
I will guide you.
Seiya stops suddenly and the stance that follows comes to him as a knowledge so natural as the act of walking. Flowing along with the cosmo, he moves his hands, drawing his constellation in the air. When his fingers reach the last star, he can feel the surge of endless energy pour out from his fists.
And his hands become meteors.
Shaina warns Casios and yells at him to step away, but it’s too late. In a second, Seiya’s fists throw the large man to the ground, blood pooling under him. A dense silence falls upon the coliseum as every person holds their breath, waiting for Casios to react.
Seiya doesn’t hear the Pope declaring him the victor nor the soldiers screaming again, this time in disbelief. All he thinks of is the box that now stands in front of him. His prize.
“I- I did it.”
Even when his fingers graze the carvings on the box, he can’t believe it. But the voice is there, calling him, reaching out to his cosmo. In unison, the two resonate together, forming a bond Seiya had never felt before.
Through his victory he becomes the Pegasus Saint, but Seiya can’t help but feel that it was the Cloth the one that chose him, to guide him to a future he can’t even imagine.