Cross Slash 002: Memories of a Memory

The sun rises; Dawn’s Nativity.

Dying stars from the nocturne past flicker their last and perish.

The gathering clouds are trimmed with a golden light; they float in fleets; drifting aimlessly; forever in motion as they pass by; forever nomadic even without so much of a moment’s respite; forever they’re guided by the Hand of God to that sacred place where they gather and whisper of the King’s return. The stroke of that hour only God knows.

Perched atop the tallest skyscraper in Tengoku, a young woman dons her cloak.

She approaches the building’s edge

 her face veiled behind the shadow her hood casts; her hand gripping the hilt of her favorite kunai…

…who is she?

 She must locate that certain someone.

Nobody will see it coming! A throat slit across the jugular; silent bloodshed from that fatal stroke; crimson tears shedding from that silent slit; another body for that smoldering pit Gehenna: the old burning heap of yore.

 She casts all emotions into the void in her heart: where her memories go to slumber; dormant as if they are forgotten; only her heart can whisper the secrets they hold…

She effortlessly leaps sky high in a single bound. Her silhouette glides beneath the sun; pink petals scatter and she disappears; the petals vanish not too long after: her only trace of existing…

…who is she after!?

***ELSEWHERE***

It's the weekend.

Downtown in Tengoku City, Clyde and Cherri traverse a massive scramble crossing. 

With frosty treats.

Cherri purchased a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Clyde purchased a cherry smoothie.

Cherri takes her time with her ice cream, lick by lick. 

Clyde marvels at her carefree demeanor; never has he seen someone so passionate: such a poignant charm she has. 

Can he really…ask her to…

…no.

Is he really falling in… it’s nothing.

Clyde breathes a low hum of a sigh.

“You really like that ice cream cone," asks Clyde.

Cherri nods. "it's my favorite flavor..."

Cherri licks her ice cream again.

That’s not what Clyde wanted to ask her.

Cherri licks her ice cream and winks.

“It’s not much Clyde; but it's a pleasure to enjoy life's simple luxuries…"

…a ray of sunlight touches down on Cherri’s cheek. 

Such a fuzzy warmth from a single ray. 

A kiss from God perhaps?

The touch of the Holy Spirit satiates her and stirs tender memories of her childhood… 

…one fraught with wide eyed curiosity and innocence.

Cherri lifts her eyes and witnesses the serene sunrise as she did many times in childhood.

The awe of the twilight sky; she calls to Clyde.

"Wow Clyde! Look at the sky!”

Clyde observes the twilit sky cloven by the light of The Morning star.

Cherri smiles with warmth in her heart.

"Some people wake up just for the simple pleasure of watching the

sunrise and watching the sunset each day.”

Cherri delightfully breathes in fresh air and gently exhales.

“Thank God for those finer details in our lives.”

Clyde glances at the sky again.

He recites a verse.

“The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down,

and hasteth to his place where he arose.”

Clyde He breathes a despondent sigh…

Even if it’s just a slither memories he tries to remember… he can’t sort the links into a solid chain..

But the memories he seeks are not entirely gone.

The memories Clyde is desperately trying to remember are lost in time…

 …if only he were to dive into the stream of time and brave the currents and cross through the other side: between the past and present, reclaiming those lost memories…

…but if he were to reclaim those memories… would it alter his fate for the better; the better outcome being the restoration of his memories… 

…or worse,,, would he go so far back and cross through into the past… the very fabric of the universe would be altered. 

Precious moments scattered throughout his past are like a hazy mist only to be forgotten. Either way it’s not a matter of going to the other side converting the past into memories…

…but Clyde’s cloudy mind is shrouding his past; but are these memories repressed... or just forgotten?

Cherri watches Clyde struggling.

Cherri's heart is tender; she wears it on her sleeve. She wants to help; she wants to make a difference in Clyde's life.

But what more can she do for Clyde towards restoring his lost memories? What if those memories are meant to be forgotten?

 So if they are forgotten they must have existed at one point in time…

…what if they existed only to be forgotten, were they doomed to oblivion from the start?

Cherri pushes her wheelchair closer to Clyde.

She reaches over to comfort him; she hugs him.

Clyde hugs her back; not for the sake of his sorrow,

But to feel; to feel his emotions…

…to feel her.

This hug; it’s something familiar…

…having such an important woman embracing him: 

it’s warm; it’s tender… and pure bliss... like when a man places their trust and security in a woman he... 

…is he…maybe.

The couple tenderly disengage their bodies from each other; both are entranced by the other’s gaze. Emotions swell the deeper one gazes into the other’s eyes.

Is he feeling what she is feeling…or perhaps…

…never mind.

As for her…is she feeling what he is feeling…?

Clyde is flustered; his emotions in shambles. He takes his eyes off of her and lowers them to the street.

He hides his embarrassment; Cherri looks to the side and blushes as well.

She looks at Clyde again…and Clyde looks back at her.

Is this the chemistry she’s been waiting for?

She feels for Clyde; but does Clyde feel the same about her.

If he does… 

…then… 

…if this is true…

…never mind.

Suddenly, a fresh, brisk breeze laced with the scent from a certain flower, glides past the two.

"That's odd.” Clyde alert, ““What are these petals doing here...?”

Cherri looks around. She grins.

 "They are just petals from a cherry blossom tree. There’s a patch of them nearby. When the wind is strong enough it's laced with the sweet scent and carries it throughout the city. Sometimes it collects a few of the petals from the branches and scatters them everywhere.” 

Clyde catches one from the passing trail of petals. He examines it. petals elicit a familiar sensation.

Suddenly…he remembers!

"Cherri… these aren't normal petals…”

Urgency and danger skyrockets as more petals surround him.

“Cherri! It's a trap! Hurry up and get out of here!"

The petals swirl around Cherri as well…

…she’s in danger!

Clyde immediately pushes Cherri out of the range of the petals.

He draws his massive sword. He starts to swipe at the wind, and slices a slew of petals. But every one he slices, thrice for each appears. Moment after moment even more petals surround Clyde. They catch Clyde catches him in a whirlwind.

Cherri witnesses the whirlwind lift him and whisk him away.

“Clyde!!!” 

She watches and sheds a tear... and then another and after the third tear... a mass of Cherry Blossom Petals engulfs Central City like descending snow.

Everybody outside and even those still indoors collapse: one by one they fall; adrift in peaceful slumber wherever they land.

Cherri hears the soothing voice of a young woman. 

"You won't remember this moment when you awaken. I will borrow your friend for just a little while. Don't fight it… just drift away into a peaceful slumber.”

But Cherri defies! She fights to stay awake…

...to stay conscious enough to flee.

She frantically searches for Clyde…

...to find Clyde…

Where could that whirlwind have taken him!?

Suddenly, fatigue overcomes her. 

Despite her efforts as she pushes forth; keeping her eyes pried open… to remain conscious enough.

She speeds around a corner, but she bears too much weight against her wheelchair. drifting around the corner…

Her wheelchair tips over.

She falls off the wheelchair.

Desperate and still awake she crawls forth with fatigue weighing her down.

She’s not going to make it. 

With tears welling in her eyes she lifts her head and screams, expending the last of her breath until her lungs are exhausted.

“CLYDE!”

She breathes in tearfully. Still fighting against her fatigue; still struggling to stay awake…

…but finally, her eyelids close. She blacks out.

Blissful slumber awaits…

***ELSEWHERE ***

A cool breeze rouses the slumbering boy…

It’s Clyde! 

He stirs himself back into consciousness…

…his mind fixed in a blurry daze.

He slowly sits up; still a bit woozy, his vision still focusing. 

He gathers his thoughts about his current whereabouts.

The sky is white, pure as snow. Not a single patch of blue is visible anywhere in the sky to stain the impenetrable bulwark of the infinite white... not even with a slither of blue…

The sun is as if it were a drop of blood onto the blank sky.

… what is this bloody stain?

The fresh dew lifts a pure scent into the air. A fresh fragrance of a...a garden? 

Clyde remains unperturbed about his current whereabouts, but nevertheless he's worried about Cherri’s absence.

Another cool breeze passes by, like a breath of frosty air...

a chill from the frost of that final chamber...

...oh that dreaded chill from that frozen chamber in the bowels of Pandemonium…

…where that old serpent is frozen.

Clyde remains unperturbed about his current whereabouts; nevertheless he's worried about Cherri’s absence…

…where is she...?

 Clyde looks behind him... just in time too.

A group of four shuriken are closing in.

...danger approaches…

Clyde dodges the shuriken.

They pluck themselves into a tree in a perfect row… such keen accuracy of the one who flung them.

 Clyde unsheathes his sword.

Danger is here.

A white fox appears.

She's poised and ready to kill, wielding a ninjato clenched between her teeth.

Clyde rolls over then leaps to the side He draws his sword.

The vixen dashes before sprinting full speed.

Clyde swings his sword. But the vixen is agile as a nimble leaf.

 She swings her ninjato to repel Clyde’s strikes.

An explosion of sparks leaps forth this and every time their weapons clash.

Though the white vixen is agile… Clyde is just as keen a swordsman.

Clash after clash, maneuver after maneuver,

The two combatants match strike for strike.

Oh how those sparks fly; strike after strike: igniting this fervent fight. Oh how graceful the combatants are in this fatal duel: The vixen careful to remain agile, lest Clyde deals the deathblow.

No matter the effort they expend, a swift upper-hand, the two combatants are evenly matched. Their killing strokes clash and will never determine a victor. 

Either the fatal duel will end until both contenders are utterly worn from exhaustion or until they both kill each other in a fatal draw and even so neither will be any closer to victory.

Clyde realizes this... but after taking a harder look at the vixen... recognizes his opponent; even in her current form!

He blocks and parries the vixen’s strikes; long enough to gather his thoughts.

“Yukiko..?!”

The vixen halts upon hearing her name. She smirks.

“You’ve always been the clever one Clyde.” 

He scoffs.

“I know your kind Yukiko: you’re of the Kitsune Clan: a sisterhood of assassins who disguise themselves as white vixens... but seeing as though I have not been slain… you’re holding back...”

Yukiko remains silent.

“… you are either in need of my assistance …"

Clyde sheaths his sword.

“...or you're just waiting for the right moment to deliver the deathblow.”

The vixen smiles and slowly struts towards Clyde. She curls her tail under his chin as she lovingly brushes her body against his legs.

“Such keen skills of observation.” The vixen detaches her body from Clyde. She struts a few paces away from him, then she hurls her ninjato into the air... and catches it by the hilt after assuming her true form: a raven-haired kunoichi garbed in foreign attire.

She sheathes her ninjato. She smirks.

“…you’re either a brave fool laughing in the face of imminent death or perhaps you’re a coward feigning courage because you know this is the hour of your demise.”

She smiles confidently and approaches Clyde. She walks past him, stopping after a few more paces away from him.

With lightning speed; clutching her favorite kunai she thrusts it towards Clyde; the tip of the kunai whisks past Clyde’s head....

…he doesn't even budge an inch. 

A thin scratch appears on his cheek, but she didn’t want to slit the jugular. Not just yet…

Clyde's posture remains firm. He’s not intimidated. His face is still stern despite the tiny mar across his cheek. 

The young woman smirks.

“You haven’t drawn your blade... I admire your ironclad will; not even a single drop of sweat trickles from your brow… not even a writhing grimace contorted your face when the kunai scratched your cheek.”

She sheathes her favorite kunai once more.

"...it is true that you are my quarry which puts you at the mercy of my whim…

…my clan wants you dead…"

She approaches Clyde.

"I am to oblige them with your head hoisted upon a pike’s point… but I know you, swordsman and what you can do for me… and perhaps... for my clan.."

Clyde’s face remains firm.

“Only a fool would trust the words passing through an assassin's lips."

"Is that so.?”

Yukiko leans over and pulls Clyde’s head until there is but a mere fraction of space between them. She kisses him long and hard…

Yukiko snatches her lips away from his... she smirks.

“What passed between my lips is a trace of me to you; and a little something for your soul to decipher.”

Yukiko smirks and grabs her favorite kunai. She slashes the mark on Clyde’s face from earlier.

“The mark is for me to claim you as my own. You are my quarry and mine alone.

Yukiko sheathes her favorite kunai and raises her hand… Clyde is on his guard.

Yukiko summons a wisp of pink petals with the flick of her hand.

They gather around her in a whirlwind of pink petals.

Yukiko and the whirlwind vanishes into thin air all but one…

A descending petal floats back and forth until Clyde plucks it out of the air.

As he did in Tengoku City, Clyde examines it…but this time… 

…a sequence of events flashes by in his mind.

“What are these?" 

Could these be..

"My...my memories?" says Clyde.

Is this the moment mentioned before of Clyde swimming into the past and crossing through Oblivion for his lost memories!!?

As Clyde regains his memories… a piercing ringing in his ears sets off. An excruciating headache entails not too long after.

Clyde clutches his head and sinks to his knees.

His head is pounding, the ringing is torturing his ears.

He swings his head left and right.

“What did you do to me Yukiko!?"

He loses consciousness and faints.

*** *** `***

“After you’ve awakened in Tengoku City, you won’t remember any of this. I’ve wiped your memory of this moment… and replaced them with a portion of your lost memories: neither to reveal or conceal… these memories are but the stepping stones into your history.”

“If it be of God’s Will…We may reunite as one; in a different time, in a different space. But if it be of God’s Will… you won’t remember who I am, and neither will those memories ever return and I will have lost every trace leading me to you forever.”

Yukiko leaves behind a lingering statement…

“I never got a chance to tell you why I refused to kill you... despite my clan's wishes."

"But maybe one day when Creation is restored, perhaps the thought of you and I will no longer be wishful thinking…”

 ***ELSEWHERE***

Time resumes in Tengoku City.

an anomaly draws a wide mass of attention from a throng of citizens to the scramble crossing

They surround a slumbering damsel. Moments pass and she comes too. She is still in a bit of a daze.

They watch as She slowly picks herself up. Some offer to help her but she politely refuses.

She tries to pull herself up back onto her wheelchair, but her legs wobble. 

She stumbles and falls... but just in the nick of time, Clyde leaps from the crowd and catches her.

Their eyes meet. The young woman's eyes glow that brilliant amber shine.

Cherri has found Clyde at last.

Her lips quiver knowing he’s safe and no longer in danger

She manages to muster a few words.

“Are you okay Clyde,” asks Cherri.

 Clyde simply smiles and lifts her. He mounts her in her wheelchair.

Suddenly… a cry calls the attention of the crowd.

“Hey here’s another one, she’s still asleep," cries a young woman named Salem.

Without hesitation Clyde and Cherri race to where the second maiden slumbers...

*** *** ***

After racing to another intersection, Clyde and Cherri exchange glances at each other and then they set them upon the slumbering maiden.

"How long has she been asleep," asks Clyde.

Salem shrugs.

"I found her sleeping here not too long after I awoke."

Clyde gathers his thoughts…

“She looks… familiar.”

Cherri clings onto Clyde's arm.

"Who is this young woman?" She keeps her thoughts to herself.

An even larger throng of spectators gather at this intersection….

…moments later… 

The slumbering maiden awakens…

 The sun has risen, and it exerts a huge beam of light upon the area as if to acknowledge this moment.

A cluster of five smooth stones has been cast into the stream of time, firmly marking this tender moment. Only by the will of God can those stones be plucked from its spot despite which direction time flows... such is the Grace of God’s Will.