* Eve
is one of my favorite fanfiction-authors. She's exploring the depths
of her characters, writing in a simple, captivating style that speaks
volumes of her amazing talent ! As Saint Seiya is her inexhaustible
source of inspiration, the stories keep to flow, one more lovelier than
the next ! To read the wealth Eve has written, don't miss to visit her
site Eve's
Teahouse of Saint
Seiya Fanfictions !
This particular
story is dealing with Marin in its entirety, but if you're interested
in Aiolia, I'm certain you'd like to find out more the love interest
of his !
Eve, I can't thank you enough for allowing me to upload your story
to the Club.
You're a heart !
1.
Quest
"I'm
leaving Sanctuary tomorrow morning."
Aiolia
twisted a little to peer at Marin. Her marble-white mask did not
reveal anything. "Leaving? Where?"
They
were sitting on the steps leading to the Leo Temple. The late afternoon
sun was touching the far horizon, and Sanctuary was bathed in mellow
orange.
All was quiet in the Twelve Gold Temples.
Marin
had come a while ago and asked Aiolia if he would have a talk with her.
He had agreed. But so far all they did was sit side by side on the steps,
saying little. Aiolia felt like a teenager on a first date. And now
Marin
told him she was going to leave.
"Japan,"
she said. "To look for my brother."
That
reminded Aiolia she had discovered Seika for Seiya. Up until then,
everybody had thought Marin was Seiya's real sister. "Your brother?"
he
echoed. "I thought you went to Sanctuary in the first place because
you were
looking for him here?"
She
drew up her knees and linked her arms across them, her face tilted up
a
bit. To Aiolia she seemed very young, doing that. "No, it's not
how it
was. It's the story I requested the Pope to tell everyone. I didn't
forget anything from my past. I chose to ignore it. That way I could
be
a Saint with no memories to slow me down. I simply wanted to turn over
a
new leaf. But this past couple of days I've been thinking. I'm planning
to see my family, to assure myself they're all right. After that, I'll
return here. My place is in Sanctuary - I took my vow and I would never
go
back on it. I'm sorry, am I talking too much?"
Aiolia
smiled. She was never a talker, and listening to her open up was a
rare occasion. "No, you're not. Go ahead."
"As
I was saying, I'll leave first thing tomorrow. I just have to tell you
first."
"In
case I wonder where you might have gone to?"
"I
do that all the time, don't I? Missing for days without telling anybody
where I am?"
"You
usually have good reason to be missing. Anyway how long are you going
to be in Japan?"
"Not
very long, I hope."
"Are
you going to see Seiya?" When she shook her head, he frowned. "Why
not? He'd want to meet you, I reckon. He still owes you thanks for finding
his sister."
"I
don't need thanks. He would have done the same for me. All his life
he's
been searching for her, only he didn't have the time. So I did the searching
for him." Marin rose gracefully to her feet, brushing dust off
her leggings.
"So, see you again. And say hello to Aiolos."
"I
will."
He
watched as she descended the steps, her brisk gait a reflection of her
no-nonsense self. Then he got up and entered his Temple.
The
sky over Athens was blue and crisp this morning, which Marin took as
a
good omen. A pleasant start, at any rate. She slung her bag over her
shoulder and began to walk.
What
will I find in Japan? she thought. For that matter, will I find
anything at all? Everybody I used to know could be dead right now, or
they
may forget me. It's a wild goose chase - but I've got to do it. I have
to
at least know.
"Leaving
already?"
"Good
morning, Aiolia," she replied, not bothering to look. "What
are you
doing here?"
He
fell into step beside her. He was clad in a simple earth-brown tunic
whose color matched that of his hair. They weaved their way through
a market
amidst stalls, shouting vendors and buyers laden with shopping baskets.
No
one paid them much attention.
"I'm
walking you to the dock, if you don't mind."
"I
don't. Thank you."
They
were silent, busy with their own private musings. Somewhere a housewife
and a grocer were haggling back and forth, and a butcher advertised
his
merchandise at the top of his lungs.
"Do
you still remember where your folks used to live?"
Marin
glanced at him, surprised. "You're worried I'll get lost or something?"
A
little boy ran from the opposite direction and into her. He mumbled
an
apology then shot away, giggling. Aiolia's eyes followed the boy idly.
"I
just don't want you to be disappointed."
"If
I know anything at all about my folks, I won't call it too disappointing."
"What
if you don't find them? I'm sorry, I don't mean to be nosy but there
is that risk. Isn't it better to leave things well enough alone?"
"I'm
grateful for your concern, Aiolia, but I need to know. It doesn't
really matter what I find or don't find, as long as I have tried."
"You're
not going to go around wearing that mask, are you?"
That
brought a small smile which he could not see. "Of course not. I'll
draw a crowd. I'll take it off and maybe put on a wig. Flaming red hair
tends to attract people as much as a mask."
"I
wish I could see you."
"Why?
For all you know I may be ugly enough to stop a clock, as the saying
goes."
Aiolia
laughed. "I don't believe that. It appears to me that one of the
conditions a female Saint has to fulfill is being beautiful. Look at
Shaina,
for instance."
"Do
you like her?" she said levelly.
"If
you ask if I have strong feelings for her, no. She's got a strong spirit
and all that but she's not for me. Besides, she's set her eyes on Seiya.
I
wonder what she sees in him?"
"Don't
be gossipy, Aiolia. It doesn't suit you."
"You're
right." They had gone past the market and the dock was now visible
in the distance. "Is there any ship heading for Japan at this hour?"
"There
is. I checked yesterday." She came to a halt. "Thanks for
walking
me this far."
"You're
welcome." An awkward pause fell. "What, er, what will you
do once
you have discovered your family?"
"I
don't know. But I won't be staying long in Japan. I'm a Saint now, and
I belong here in Sanctuary. This is my home now."
Aiolia
cleared his throat. "I wish you luck. Take care, Marin."
"You
too, Aiolia."
He
watched as she approached the harbor master and talked to him. At length
he waved at a nearby ship. He yelled something at the crews and they
yelled
back. Marin nodded at the harbor master and ran for the ship.
Will
she ever meet her folks? Aiolia thought. I hope she will. I hope I
could be there with her. But I'm needed here, and Marin wouldn't like
to
have me along anyhow. She's an extraordinary woman. Do many people know
it?
He
folded his arms across his chest, his eyes trained on the ship, which
was
leaving. There was a person leaning on the railing and gazing out to
sea.
He wondered if it was Marin, and what she had on her mind. He wondered
if
her family was out there, if they still remembered her.
2.
Family
The
train was almost empty, which was how she liked it. Marin took a seat
near the window. A young man was reading across the aisle. He threw
her a
glance as she sat down.
Outside
it was still broad daylight. The journey would take five hours,
since this was a regular train and not the superfast Shinkansen. She
would
reach her village come dark. She wondered if she could still find her
way
around. It had been many years since she last saw the village.
Looking
out of the window, Marin immediately saw her own vague image on the
glass. It was like staring into a stranger's face. The Aquila Saint
that
ordinarily returned her stare from the mirror was a redhead with a white
mask. The woman on the train window had long black hair - she had purchased
the wig yesterday - and large blue eyes that had nothing Japanese in
them.
Her mouth was small and rosebudlike.
I'm
not supposed to take off my mask, she thought. But I'm not here as a
Saint. So I suppose it's all right. Even if I ran across Seiya on the
street he wouldn't recognize me. Seiya...what is he doing now? Sharing
recollections with his sister, or probably facing yet another enemy?
She
leaned back, one hand around her handbag, deciding to take a short nap
for an hour or two.
"Excuse
me, Miss, where are you going?"
Eyebrow
twitching, Marin turned her head. It was the man across the aisle
who had addressed her. What does he want? she asked herself. I hope
he
doesn't want to chat, because I definitely don't feel like it right
now.
She mentioned the name of her village in a curt tone to indicate that
she
was in no mood to talk.
"Oh,
what a coincidence! That's where I'm heading too. You speak Japanese
quite well, though you look like a foreigner. Are you visiting relatives
there or friends?" The man wore simple but neat clothes, and he
had a frank,
amiable face.
She
sighed inwardly. Obviously the man would not leave her alone. The best
she could do was not encourage him to longer conversations. "I
don't even
know if they are still there," she replied flatly. "I left
a long time ago."
"What's
their name? I can tell you if they've moved."
"You're
very nice," she said, "but I have been warned against talking
much
to strangers. Besides, I'm tired. Please don't take offense."
The
man blinked, then smiled. "How rude of me. If you need help, don't
hesitate to say so. I'll be glad to assist you."
"Thank
you." Marin closed her eyes, ready to sleep. She could sense the
man's still curious eyes on her, but could not care less. Let him stare.
As long as he was not about to rape or murder her, he could do as he
liked.
"Are you sure you have no luggage I can carry for you?" the
man asked as
they got off on the silent train station. It was so small that it could
be
described as a depot. Night had fallen, and stars dotted the sky. The
man
carried a regular-sized trunk himself.
Great,
now he wanted to play porter. "No, thanks. I only have this small
handbag with me." Which should give him second thoughts, if he
was bent on
robbing her. But then, she was not being fair. The man might only be
glad
to have company and he was naturally a helpful person. She had spent
too
much time with people who had things up their sleeves, it appeared.
The
man was looking to the right and left. "There should be a bus at
this
time of night. It's an hour's walk to the village."
"If
there's no bus, I can walk."
He
gazed at her, and his open shock amused her. "A lady walking alone
for
an hour at night?"
You
might be astounded, my friend, if I told you I've gone through the most
unladylike things, a walk in the night being the least of them. "What
do we
do, then?" She included him because she knew he was not going to
abandon
her here in the station. The man was nothing if not a gentleman.
As
is Aiolia, her heart amended. Funny I should be thinking of Aiolia.
But
maybe it isn't so weird. After all we're good friends.
Abruptly
the man's face cleared and he pointed. "Look! I think it's my
uncle's car! He's coming to pick me up. I'll give you a ride, then."
He
seemed so relieved that she would not have to walk to the village or
spend
the night at the station. Marin had to admit it was sort of nice to
have a
kind stranger nearby.
A
car was materializing out of the darkness. Marin's heart skipped a beat.
She knew that car - or used to. It was the car that had taken her to
this
very station more than a decade ago, so that she could board a train
to Tokyo
and to the airport, thence to leave Japan for good. The car was almost
the
same as she remembered it: moss green with a dent in the front bumper,
a
souvenir from a collision course with a bakery truck. She watched as
the car
lumbered near.
Her
eyes shifted to the young man, who was looking at the car eagerly. He
says that it's his uncle's car, she thought, her heart missing another
beat.
Could it be that he is - ?
The
car slowed down to a halt. An elderly man exited from the driver's side.
He saw her and his face froze. Marin clutched tighter at her handbag.
His
face did not change much except for the additional wrinkles.
"Hello,
Uncle," she said in an even voice.
The
young man stared, and, had it not been impolite, Marin was certain he
would have goggled at her. "Uncle...?"
"Hello,
Misaki," the elderly man said dryly. His eyes probed into her,
and
she returned his stare unblinkingly. She was a grown woman now and she
had
no reason to fear him as she had all those years ago.
"It's
been a long time." Marin had not heard her real name spoken for
many
years, and hearing it again gave this meeting a surreal touch.
"Can
somebody please tell me what's going on here?" the young man demanded,
looking from Marin to his uncle.
The
elderly man finally deigned to notice his nephew. "Kyoji, say hello
to
your elder sister."
The
journey home was fraught with uncomfortable silence. Kyoji sat in the
front next to his uncle, refusing to meet anyone's eye. Marin spent
her time
staring at the darkness outside. Their uncle drove on, his expression
stony.
Eventually
he said, "Kyoji, your mother will be very happy to see you."
Which
indicates she won't be happy to see me, Marin guessed.
"I
miss her," Kyoji said quietly, Marin supposed due to her presence.
"How
many days off do you have? Are you staying for long?"
"Only
for three days. The company's got a heap of orders and they need all
the help they can get. Since I'm hoping to get a promotion, I want to
get
back there as soon as possible. Uncle Takafumi, is she well?"
"Oh,
yes. She is. Now."
"Are
you implying, Uncle, that she'll get a heart attack if I show up at
the
door?" Marin spoke up.
Takafumi
threw a caustic glance over his shoulder before returning his
concentration on the road before them. "What are you doing here,
Misaki?
We thought you and your father would be happy wherever it was you ran
off to."
Despite
herself, Marin felt her blood rise. "Father didn't run off,"
she
stated. "He couldn't stand you and Grandfather, so he went away."
"Was
I supposed to put up with him, then? By the way, did you dye your hair
or something?"
Marin
peeled the wig off her head. Kyoji's eyes went wide as though she had
begun undressing. "I still keep my hair," said Marin, shaking
her fiery curls,
"which is more than I can say of you, Uncle."
Takafumi
snorted. "You'll lose yours too one day. So, would you care to
tell
us where you have been all these years? Why isn't your father coming
back
with you?"
"He
died. Lung cancer." Ignoring Takafumi's surprised look, Marin continued,
"We were in Greece then. There's this place called Sanctuary there.
I went
there and got my training as a Saint of Athena. Athena's Saints are
- "
"I
know what they are," Takafumi interrupted. "We're not so buried
here that
we don't know what's happening out there." He swerved around a
treacherous
bend. "So you are a Saint now? From what I heard these people do
nothing
but kill others in the name of some dead goddess."
Marin
wanted to refute, then thought better of it. "Have it your way,
Uncle."
She stole a glimpse at Kyoji, who stoutly refused to join the conversation.
"What's
your name now? Some Saints have such odd names. Those couldn't be
the names they were born with."
"You
can still call me Misaki."
Kyoji,
who had been hitherto keeping his peace, blurted out, "You still
haven't answered Uncle yet - what are you doing here?" There was
dislike and
something else in his tone which Marin could not identify.
"I
want to visit you one last time. After that I'll be out of your life
for
good. Aren't you happy to know it, Uncle?"
"You're
getting more and more like your father."
The
car's lights fell brightly on a house several meters away. There was
a
heaviness in Marin's chest that made it ache. Her eyes were riveted
on the
house as it grew bigger and nearer. A silhouetted figure stood on the
doorway.
Mother,
Marin thought, heart hammering against her ribcage. I'm going to see
Mother again. And I'm scared, very scared. Why should I be? Am I scared
she'll turn away from me? That's no big deal. I'll leave early tomorrow
in
any case. It's as simple as that.
Takafumi
killed the engine and got out, followed by Kyoji. The silhouette
became a woman in green, who cried out, "Kyoji-chan!" and
hurried over to
him. He hugged her, having to stoop in the process.
Marin
climbed out of the back seat. "Hello, Mother."
The
woman released Kyoji and stared at her. "Misaki?" Her voice
was full of
doubts.
"It's
me, Mother." More words were not necessary. Marin made her message
clear; her mother could either welcome her or give her the cold shoulder.
Either way she would accept it.
Her
mother looked at her for what seemed like minutes. At length she said,
"Come on in." She swung around and entered the house, her
steps a little too
fast, thought Marin. Takafumi and Kyoji went after her and Marin gripped
her
handbag's strings. Whatever would be, would be.
Inside
it was warm and well-lit. Marin saw that a few pieces of furniture
were still where they had been when she left, and some had been replaced
by
newer ones. Takafumi took off his parka jacket and Kyoji put his trunk
on the
floor.
"Chiharu, is dinner ready yet? I'm starving," said Takafumi
to his sister,
who was watching them wordlessly.
"It
is. This way."
At
least they're not letting me starve, Marin said to herself.
The
food was excellently cooked, but the atmosphere was uneasy. Takafumi
ate
with his back rigid, addressing no one. Kyoji appeared to find it hard
to
swallow. Marin, having little if any qualms, was determined to enjoy
the
meal. These people acted as if she were a criminal. Well, she was not,
so
she would not put up with their disregard and hostility. Besides, she
had
not had such a luxurious dinner since she became a Saint. This might
be her
finest one so far.
"Misaki."
She
raised her face from her plate. Her mother was staring at her intensely
and Marin put down her chopsticks. "Yes?"
"Where
is your father?"
"He's
dead," said Takafumi before Marin could answer. "And she's
now one of
those Saints. You know those, Chiharu. Some of them fought in a competition
in Tokyo a few years ago."
"That's
true," Marin said, secretly annoyed at the careless manner with
which
Takafumi delivered the news. "I live in Sanctuary, Greece, now.
I've been
pretty busy, so I could only visit you today. Are you doing fine, Mother?"
"As
fine as a husbandless woman could be." Takafumi helped himself
to more
fried spiced noodles.
Kyoji
went a shade of white. Marin swiftly said, "I apologize for my
father
- is that what you all want to hear? Okay then, I'm sorry. Mother, Father
didn't walk out on you as some would have you believe. He just felt
he had
to go, to be somewhere else. And he couldn't have abandoned me. I'm
sorry.
I apologize to you in his behalf." She took a deep bow.
When
she straightened up, she saw tears course down Chiharu's cheeks. She
saw Marin's look and wiped her eyes. "Misaki-chan, you are here,"
she said in a whisper. "And I couldn't ask more than that. I understand
why your father did what he did. I have forgiven him for leaving...but
not for taking you along with him."
Takafumi
was about to retort, changed his mind, and resumed eating. Marin
dropped her eyes to her food, a trifle confused. She had expected anything
but this. Never mind, she would be gone soon. Fighting off enemies suddenly
appeared as a more interesting option.
Living
in Athens, a city near the sea, had accustomed her to degrees of heat,
from mild warmth to sweltering hot weather. But here it was very different.
The village was located at the foot of a mountain, and not acquainted
with
high temperature. It was perpetually, soothingly cool, more so at night.
The
mountain loomed in the darkness before her as Marin sauntered out the
front door, hands in her pocket. The sight of it brought back many memories
from childhood. She remembered spending the day there with Kyoji, playing
hide and seek until dark, and their parents had to go look for them.
Once at
home they got a scolding and admonissions not to do it ever again, did
they
want to get lost? Kyoji had been repentant but Marin had not. She simply
laughed her parents' anxiety away.
"Aren't
you cold out there?"
It
was Kyoji's voice, speaking from the doorway. Marin did not turn around.
She kept gazing at the mountain. "Do you remember the time we went
to the
mountain and didn't even realize when the sun set? I scraped my knee
and you
almost sprained your ankle, falling down a boulder."
There
was a heavy pause. "Yes, Misaki was never frightened of anything.
She
was a brave girl, Misaki was. Too bad she's gone and never returned."
His
quiet vehemence made her look over her shoulder. His face was devoid
of
emotion. "Hate me that much, do you?"
"Why
do you come back at all? Why don't you just leave us be?"
"What
do you know, Kyoji? What's the reason of Father's leaving?"
"He
hates Uncle. So he left. But he had to take you along."
Marin
had not forgotten the day: Takafumi had driven her and her father to
the
station, she full of bewilderment and grief, her uncle tense, her father
pale.
She had not forgotten either how her little brother had cried when they
left.
"Kyoji, Uncle never did accept Father as his brother-in-law. He
didn't like
it that Mother married a penniless foreigner. There were a lot of quarrels
between them, didn't you know? So Father decided to go. With me. Because
I
looked so much like him and he didn't want Uncle to make things difficult
for
me just because of my hair and eyes."
She
could feel Kyoji's glance flitting over her red hair. "Father was
only
thinking about himself," he stated. "Mother wept almost every
night after he
took you away. Obviously he didn't know or didn't care that you were
her
daughter as much as his."
"That
is unfair. What could he have done, bring you and Mother along? She
wouldn't have been able to stand that. You have to learn to live with
it."
"Easy
for you to say."
"You
think Father wanted to dump Mother and you, is that it?" Marin
was
exasperated with her brother's stubbornness. Why could he not at least
try
to see both sides of the story? "Well, he didn't. Leaving you two
behind
was the hardest thing he had to do. The hardest thing for me to do,
as a
matter of fact. And when he died, I wanted to die myself. Yes, I did,
I am
not being melodramatic here. I was very young, stranded in a country
where I
knew not a single soul, and I had nobody. So when I became a Saint,
I put all
that behind. From then on I would live as Saint Aquila Marin, period.
Misaki
is dead along with her father."
A
corner of Kyoji's mouth twisted. "How convenient to have her resurrected
and come visiting."
"Kyoji,
if you are going to be sarcastic I'm going in. I see we're getting
nowhere in this discussion." She made to brush past him into the
house.
His
taut voice arrested her progress. "What about me, didn't you have
any
objection leaving me behind?"
Astonished,
she stared at him. "Is that what this is all about?"
But
of course, murmured something at the back of her brain. He loved you
a
lot, you were the whole world to him. Have years of Sainthood made it
slip
your mind? He followed you everywhere. He played whatever games you
wanted
to. He waited for you to get well when you fell ill. He said when he
grew
up he would see to it that you and Mother would always be safe, maybe
even
rich. How you giggled at that one.
The
image of herself at five giggling with her little brother jarred on
her.
She had never fully known the impact of her leaving for Kyoji. Now she
did.
He had seen her leaving as a betrayal. Childhood scars never entirely
healed,
only hidden. Especially for her tender-hearted young brother.
"Kyoji-chan..."
she began, awkwardly.
"It's
late. I'm going to bed." Without another word he ascended the stairs.
She stared after him. The night was suddenly, unpleasantly cold.
Just
like he had years ago, Takafumi drove her to the train station after
they
had breakfast. Chiharu had been tearful but showed no intention of detaining
Marin. Of Kyoji there was no sign. Marin felt a pang of sadness; she
would
have liked to say proper goodbye to him. But since he clearly did not
want to
see her, she did not comment on his absence.
"Uncle,"
she said on the car, "how did my parents meet exactly?"
He
shot her a curious glance. "Didn't your father ever tell you?"
"Not
in details. He just mentioned once that he fell in love with her at
first
sight, and that you and Grandfather were against the match, simply because
he
was a foreigner."
"Misaki,
marrying your father did nothing but complicate your mother's life.
You had to understand that. She is a woman who wants only the simplest
things
in life. Being your father's wife won't give her that. I had no personal
reason to hate your father, he was a fine man. I just wished he had
been a
Japanese. Sure, he could have brought your mother away from this village,
but
it would make her very unhappy. She was born here - this was and always
will
be her true home. But having a foreign husband has made her an object
of
much attention - and envy - of many people." Takafumi sighed. "It's
all so
complex. If only I could explain it better."
Marin
fingered strands of black hair spread on her shoulder; she had donned
her wig again to avoid being conspicuous. "He told me he couldn't
stand the
way you and Grandfather treated him."
"Oh,
so I'm the scapegoat. It's all right." Takafumi kept his eyes on
the
road as he spoke. "Your father was one of those people who felt
they could
belong anywhere their hearts tell them to. He was on a trip to Japan
when he
met your mother. After that, they were inseparable. But your grandfather
and I weren't very keen on having him as an in-law. So he went away.
Too
bad he died and you had to become a Saint. Not a very fruitful life,
if you
ask me."
She
thought of Seiya, the best pupil a Saint could have, and Athena, whom
she
had sworn to defend unto death. And Aiolia.
The
small train station was as deserted as it had been the night before.
A
light drizzle was falling. Takafumi glanced at his watch. "We still
have ten
minutes. If the train is on time."
"Is
it famous for being not on time?" Marin patted her modest handbag.
She
had bought it before she boarded the train yesterday, for appearance's
sake,
and she meant to discard it when she reached Tokyo.
Takafumi
snorted. "No, I was just making small talk. Misaki, are you sure
this is to be your last visit?"
"Why,
Uncle, will you miss me?"
"Your
mother will."
Marin
was silent for a while. From the tail of her eye she caught a bus
approaching. "I think it will benefit us more if we go our separate
ways. So
much has changed. I'll try to write sometime if that'll make Mother
happy."
The bus pulled to a stop outside the station.
Her
uncle shook his head. "I see you're your father's daughter in every
way."
"Neesan!"
Heart
leaping to her throat, Marin whirled around. Kyoji was alighting from
the bus and hurrying toward her. "Kyoji?" was all she could
come up with.
"I
thought you'd left." Suddenly she found herself in the circle of
his arms.
"Neesan, farewell. I didn't say it before, so I'm saying it now.
May you be
happy with the choice you've made."
Marin
was completely taken aback, but her astonishment was almost overwhelmed
by a strong flood of emotion very much like tenderness. "Why the
change of
attitude? Last night you weren't half as friendly."
"Let's
just say Mother talked me out of my mood. You are my sister, we are
supposed to love each other no matter what happened and so forth. I
wouldn't
have listened to her were it not for the fact that I knew she was absolutely
right. I do love you still. And I want to ask you to stay but I know
it's
useless so I won't."
Tears
threatened to spill, and Marin restrained them with an effort. Her
hands went instinctively across Kyoji's back. "I am so glad you're
seeing
me off," she muttered.
"Don't
forget to write or call us sometimes. Promise?"
"Would
you accept collect calls?"
He
gave a short laugh. Marin pressed him against her tightly, then let
him
go.
"Take
off that silly wig, you look really weird wearing it," he said.
The
affection with which he spoke made her smile tremble. She had won her
little
brother's forgiveness and understanding, and her feelings were indescribable.
I wish I could share this with someone, she thought.
"Take
care of Mother, Kyoji."
"Count
on it, Neesan."
3.
Homecoming
"Hi,
Aiolia."
He
looked around and his face was transformed with joy. "Marin! When
did you
come back?" he exclaimed. "Have you found your family?"
"Uncle,
mother, brother, all safe and delighted to see me."
He
could not see her face, concealed as it was by her mask, but her happiness
was almost tangible in her tone. "Good to hear it!" Then,
carefully, "And
you still prefer Sanctuary?"
"I
told you I'm a Saint and nothing can alter that, not even my folks."
She
shrugged. "Besides, I'll always have them in my heart. Sorry, do
I sound
like a bad actress reciting lines?"
"Not
at all. I'm happy for you, Marin."
"I'm
happy you're happy." She considered clapping him on the arm and
did not.
The unusual display of comradeship might alarm him. "So, how was
Sanctuary
while I was gone?"
