[30² StS Themes] Shura - The path to follow
Title: The path to follow
Author: undertheice
Character: Shura
List: A
Theme: #7 Atonement - #9 The way back (home) - #13 Cry / Tears.
Warnings: AU (Alternate Universe)
Disclaimer: Saint Seiya © Masami Kurumada, Toei and Shueisha.
Words: 1522
Note: This is set in the alternate world where the Saints are revived after the Hades war. This fic is set many, many years after said revival.
The path to follow
On his trip to the Pyrenees, there was only one thing that surprised him: the cabin he had lived in for five years remained the same, even after so much time had passed since those days. One of the windows still had a crack on its glass, a side effect from one of the many times his cosmo had exploded when fighting with his master. The door creaked the same way it did when he opened it with the last ounces of strength left after the exhausting days of training.
As Shura stepped inside he almost felt like that child again, the one that many times had collapsed to the ground before reaching the bed. He did not look down on that boy anymore, as he had survived what many others had not been able to live through. But it was only after he had gone back to the Sanctuary that he had realized that, what he had achieved, was not something to look down on. Before, during his training, he only thought of comparing himself to those that were ahead, always feeling weaker. He understood his mistake once he entered the Capricorn Temple as its rightful owner. But it was not only how he perceived himself what had changed; everything else had too.
The wooden floor creaked under his steps as he walked towards the hallway that lead to the bedrooms. He stood under his room’s threshold for a second, before entering. The same bed, one that was too small for him now, and next to it the night table that his master would always crowd with books, while the chair that Shura used to leave his folded clothes on stood under the window.
If he hadn’t been aware that time had truly passed, thanks to the way his bones ached whenever he made any sudden movement, he could have thought it felt like it was just yesterday that he woke up there.
If he wasn’t so convinced of his own time running out, he could have almost imagined that once he turned around, his master would stand under the threshold with that stern gaze that said, without words, that it was time to rise.
Shura left those thoughts aside and sat on his bed, a sigh escaping as his knees bent. He smiled when dust appeared on the tip of his finger, after running it on the night table. Contrary to his master, who had never given much thought to the idea of keeping their home clean, he had always worried about not leaving a speck of dust to be seen. But without either of them there to take care of it, dirt became the only inhabitant of the small building.
Although he did feel that it was too late to look back and regret his decision of training his inheritor somewhere else, he couldn’t help but think that he could have at least taken better care of the place that had once been their home.
“It was inevitable, master,” he whispered, lying on his back on the bed. The mattress creaked under his weight, although he felt that his now bony body might have weighed much less than the muscular one of the young man he once was.
“The Sanctuary was my home. I wanted to train that child there, where he could stay with the friends he had made. Where I could stay with the friends I had made.”
He heard his own words repeat inside his mind, as he thought of what he had just said.
“Apologizing to the dead is something that an old person would do, Shura.”
He chuckled to himself, putting an arm around his eyes. The sunlight, reflected on the snow outside, had become something unbearable for him, who had grown unaccustomed to the scenery of the mountains.
“Apologizing to the dead is something you shouldn’t be doing, Shura.”
It wasn’t the first time he spoke to himself, but lately it had become a common behavior for him, so much that not one day would pass without him directing a word to himself. He wouldn’t be surprised to find out that the trait had begun the moment his trainee had acquired the Capricorn Cloth.
“By Athena, how long has it been?”
Many nights he had wondered what was he supposed to do, now that he had passed down everything he knew to the next generation of Saints. At times he wondered if he should have been grateful for having his life spared or if his master had had it easier, dying under the cosmo of his inheritor.
Being revived had been the first part of their reward for fighting bravely against Hades, he remembered. The second one had been the chance to live peacefully, even after the candidates had become the new Saints. There was no official third one, although Shura had heard from one of his friends that it probably was that She wished for them to be happy. He could have argued that they were supposed to die for her, for the Earth, and nothing else, but it was too late then to argue about anything anymore.
It was too late now that he was left with nothing to do, that his body felt to heavy to meet yet another sunrise.
“Master, I wonder… would you have felt this tired, had you lived after our fight?”
Even if he had never been a man to shed tears, he felt his eyes becoming moist until drops of something he did not wish to acknowledge rolled down his cheeks. As a boy he would have wiped them away furiously, cursing at himself for becoming so weak. But he merely lifted his hand and looked at it through the veil in his gaze, his sight becoming blurry.
No matter what he decided, the only thing he wondered was whether one of the other twelve would already be with his master, waiting for him. His free hand gripped the blankets, the familiar fabric bringing some comfort.
Shura used his arms to support himself and sat up on the bed, a shadow passing by the door as he did so. He didn’t even flinch at the presence of another in the cabin. He had expected it after all. Was that not the reason he had gone back home?
The sound of steps filled the silent hallways, as if the guest was revisiting the places that had once been familiar. Shura remained in his position, waiting for the shadow to pass by again. The only question in his mind was if the presence would merely walk by, away from the cabin, or…
It was the sensation of the steps nearing that made his tears dry and his body tense. But as the figure appeared in front of the door and stood under the threshold, just like Shura had done a few minutes ago, all of his feelings left him, only leaving behind a sensation of relief.
“Is it time?”
Although his voice was nothing but a whisper his body felt stronger than ever. He slid off the bed, letting his feet touch the ground, and he gave a few firm steps towards the door, standing still until the figure nodded. The same stern eyes that had once guided him through his childhood, the same calloused hands that had once shaped him into a warrior, the same muscular body that he had once wished to have. In front of him stood the man that had not changed after dozens of years had passed.
“I didn’t expect you to come for me.”
His hand extended forward, his fingers brushing the figure’s face.
“… No. I lie. I hoped you would come for me.”
He took a deep breath and gave another step, feeling himself falling into a darkness he had not seen before, beneath his feet. He fell through that space, the figure floating above him, with a question written on his eyes.
“I did not know where to go, master. I did everything I had to do. I atoned for my sins and passed down everything you taught me, leaving my inheritance in Earth. After that I lived happily, like Athena wished me to. I lived, I fought, I died and I lived again. And then, later… What was I supposed to do later, I wonder?”
A hand reached out to him and with his last strength he extended his own, touching the tip of the fingers.
“Then I went to the cabin, in hopes you would lead me to my next destination. You had once lead me to a home and given me the path to the next one. So, only you could know where I have to go now. Isn’t that right?”
Through the darkness, he saw the figure nodding. After that, even though he spoke, he couldn’t hear his own voice anymore. Everything turned of a bright white color and he felt his body dissolving, like it once had so many years ago, as he flew into space, as he gave his life for Athena.
This time though, there was no need to look back.