Memories of a Memory

The sun rises; Dawn’s Nativity. 

Dying stars, of the nocturne passed, flicker their last until they disappear into the vacuum’s void. Such a sad requiem for the once vibrant vessels now reduced to moribund fumes and absorbed into oblivion.

Their dying cries are muted from the other side of oblivion and thus from the other side of oblivion they perish. 

The gathering clouds are trimmed with a golden light; they float along fleet by fleet; forever in motion as they pass by; forever nomadic 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 at the stroke of an hour only God knows.

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Perched atop a lone skyscraper; atop the tower’s apex betwixt Heaven above and Hell below, a white cloaked maiden watches. 

Her face is veiled behind the shadow her hood casts. Anyone

unfortunate enough to see her face suffer a long and agonizing death

She firmly grips the hilt of her favorite kunai…

Where will she go…?

Who will she kill…? 

Who is this femme fatale?

After a moment's breath, she leaps sky high…

…her silhouette glides beneath the sun; pink petals scatter before she vanishes. The petals vanish not too long after. They are her only trace of existing…

…who is she after!?

***Elsewhere***

Downtown in Tengoku, Clyde and Cheri traverse through a busy, massive scramble crossing. 

They’re returning from a popular family-owned creamery: Sweet Treats Smoothies and Ice Cream. 

Cherri purchased a double scoop of vanilla ice cream on a wafer cone.

Clyde purchased a Wild Cherry and Lime Smoothie mix.

Cherri takes her time with her delectable treat, lick by lick…

Never has Clyde seen someone so passionate nor has he seen someone exhibit such poignant charm as she does even though she’s wheelchair bound. 

She’s just so… happy and carefree.

Can he really…ask her to…

…no. Not now.

Is he really falling in… it’s nothing.

Clyde breathes a low hum of a sigh.

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

Cherri nods. "It’s Vanilla, favorite flavor, plain and sweet and yet it’s extraordinary in taste" 

Clyde manages to grin, but with a heavy heart.

…albeit that’s not what he wanted to ask her.

He finishes his smoothie in a long slow sip. 

Cherri licks her ice cream and winks.

“It’s not much Clyde; but, it's a pleasure to enjoy life's simple luxuries.”

Cherri pauses to scan every inch of her wheelchair.

Cherri sighs. Clyde approaches her. He places his hand on her shoulder. Cherri cups her hand around Clyde’s hand and lifts it off her shoulder. She looks at Clyde and smiles with glee. Clyde smiles back.

“If it doesn’t bother me it shouldn’t bother you.”

Suddenly a ray of sunlight touches 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 from her childhood; fraught with wide-eyed curiosity, new discoveries, and an ever expanding imagination.

She lifts her eyes and witnesses the serene sunrise as she did many times when she way a little girl.

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

"Clyde! Look at the sky!”

Clyde sets his gaze upwards; setting them upon the sky; a yonder view cloven by the morning star.

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 the hour only God knows.

Cherri smiles. She speaks again from the 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 fresh air and gently exhales.

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

Clyde continues to observe the sky. 

He pauses; hesitant at first... 

…he recites a spontaneous verse.

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

and hasteth to his place where he arose.”

Clyde breathes an uncomfortable sigh.  He tries to remember what the verse means or where he even read it.

He breathes a despondent sigh…

Even if it’s just a slither of images he tries to remember… he can’t.

The memories Clyde tries to remember are lost in time… along with the rest of his past. 

If only he were to cross the currents of time…

… into the Void, Oblivion… maybe he would be able to reclaim those lost memories…

…but if he were to reclaim those memories… would he change his fate…

…or would he destroy it?

Are these memories even worth the trouble? To defy what is inevitable? To defy the flow of time?

Cherri notices Clyde’s stern, silent face.

Cherri's heart is tender; she wears it on her sleeve… she can sense his suffering.

 She wants to help; she wants to make a difference…

Clyde faces the other way…

…what if those memories are meant to be forgotten…

  …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…

…was he, Clyde…doomed 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 for the sake of Cherri, but also to feel her warmth.

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

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

If he does…then…but it's not.

…if this is true then… never mind.

A moment passes and 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 plucks 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 skyrockets as more petals surround him.

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

Petals swirl around Cherri as well…

…she’s in danger!

Clyde pushes Cherri out of the range of the petals.

He draws his massive sword. He starts to swipe at the wind, but it’s of no avail. 

Moment after moment even more petals surround Clyde in a whirlwind. Cherri witnesses the whirlwind lift him and whisks him away.

“CLYDE!!!” 

As Cherri watches the whirlwind, a mass of Cherry Blossom Petals engulfs Tengoku City like a pink blizzard.

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 peaceful slumber.”

But Cherri defies! She fights to stay awake…

...to stay conscious enough to flee.

...to find Clyde…

Where is he..!?

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 shrink.

“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! 

A moment passes.

Clyde stirs himself back into consciousness.

His mind is clouded

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

He gathers his thoughts…

“Where the hell am I?” 

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

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

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

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

…a familiar chill.

Oh that dreaded chill from that frozen room in the bowels of the Pandemonium…

…where that old serpent is frozen.

But 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 forming a perfect row…

… such keen accuracy of the one who flung them.

  Clyde lifts his sword.

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 uses 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 and just as fleet-footed as the white vixen

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 is careful to remain agile, lest Clyde deals the deathblow.

No matter the effort they both expend for that swift upper-hand, the two combatants are evenly matched. This clash will never determine a victor for either the duel will end until both contenders are utterly worn out from or until they both kill each other in a fatal draw. 

Clyde realizes this... but after taking a harder look at his opponent…

…he recognizes his opponent; even in her current form!

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

“Vivian.?!”

The vixen is shocked upon hearing her name.

She evades Clyde’s last attack and scurries to the side.

She sits upon a flat-surfaced rock, wagging her bushy tail side to side like a metronome. 

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

He scoffs.

“I know your kind Vivian, you’re of the Yukiko Clan: a sisterhood of assassins who disguise themselves as white vixens... but seeing as though I have not been slain… you feigned your killing instinct…your blows were held back....”

Vivian 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 a clandestine 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.

“I’ve always hated your keen insight.” The vixen detaches her body from Clyde. She struts a few paces away from him. Then she hurls her sword into the air... and catches it by the hilt after assuming her true form: a brown-haired, tan skinned kunoichi. She’s garbed in a white kimono with a pink floral patterns.

She sheathes her ninjato.

“Clyde Nils… you’re either a brave fool or cowardly schemer. 

Flashing another smirk, she brazenly approaches Clyde. She walks past him, stopping after a few more paces away from him…

Quickly with lightning speed; she hurls her favorite kunai at Clyde.

It whisks past Clyde’s head….

…he doesn't even budge an inch. 

A thin scratch appears on Clyde’s cheek…

Vivian cocks her head to the side and chuckles.

“You still have your steel nerves… and damn it do I hate them.”

With steel nerves of her own, Vivian approaches Clyde and retrieves her favorite kunai.

"...it is true that you are my current quarry, but I don’t seek the bounty on your head; but that makes you…Clyde…at the mercy of my whim…”

Clyde clutches the hilt of his sword firmly.

“ I owe you no favors Vivian.”

Clyde sheaths his sword.

“But what you said has caught my interest.”

Clyde approaches Vivian. 

Their eyes are vehemently locked.

Vivian begins to speak sternly; her voice unwavering.

"I am obliged to hand over 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.?”

Vivian leans over and pulls Clyde’s head until there is nothing but a fraction of atoms between them. 

She kisses him long and hard… their tongues tangle in mad tango.

Vivian snatches her lips away from Clyde’s lips…

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

Fearing Vivian has initiated her deathblow, Clyde grabs the hilt of his sword, sore with the intent of slicing her in two, but Vivian hops back and vanishes within a wisp of pink petals. 

Though she’s not present, Vivian leaves behind lingering sentiments.

“This mark is for me to claim you.  By the scent of your blood on my kunai you are mine and mine alone. After you’ve awakened in Tengoku City… stay alert, always be vigilant for as I said you have a bounty on your head. You will face foes of all calibers. Some will even be from my own clan. You will also encounter new allies.”

“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… we will not survive this tribulation or perhaps die back to back.”

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

"But maybe one day when God restores Creation…

…perhaps the thought of you and I will no longer be wishful thinking…”

Vivian’s warning fades into a dying echo. 

The silence of oblivion remains.

But, as if from Heaven, a descending petal floats back and forth until Clyde plucks it out of the air. It glows a heavenly light…

Clyde loses consciousness again. 

*** *** `***

 ***ELSEWHERE***

Time resumes in Tengoku.

In the middle of the scramble an anomaly draws a wide mass of attention from a throng of citizens in 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 brown with a touch of warm caramel.

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.

A young woman’s cry calls the attention of the crowd.

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

Without hesitation Clyde and Cherri race to where the 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.

Rayne 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?" 

Cherri  keeps her thoughts to herself.

An even larger throng of spectators are gathering 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…

The sun rises; Dawn’s Nativity. 

Perched atop a lone skyscraper; it’s apex caught betwixt Heaven and Hell  a white cloaked maiden is watching. 

Her face is veiled behind the shadow her hood casts. She firmly grips the hilt of her favorite kunai…