Anniversary

~~~~~

It had been an entire year. Ten thousand years of nothingness -- and then, reunion and happiness -- so much happiness. One year ago, tomorrow. She had been aware of the fast-approaching date for weeks and wondered what she would do to make him understand what this date meant to her, what HE meant to her. What would she give him? What do you give to the man who had rescued you from seemingly endless suffering not just once, but twice?

Ifurita had no experiences to fall back on. And the days had slipped by until tomorrow was staring her in the face.

~~~~~

It had been an entire year. Three years of anguish and doubt, frustration and despair. And then, victory, reunion and happiness -- so much happiness. One year ago, tomorrow. He had been aware of the fast-approaching day for weeks and wondered at what he would do to make her understand what this date meant to him, what SHE meant to him. What would he give her? What do you give to such an immensely old, immensely powerful being?

Makoto had no experiences to fall back on. And the days had slipped by until tomorrow was staring him in the face.

~~~~~

Ifurita stood before the mirror and examined her image carefully. The long flowing robe and matching headdress were the brightest white that she could find. They worked well together to mask the paleness of her skin. And, with her platinum locks tucked neatly out of sight under the headdress, she did not look the part of a demon goddess, a look that could doom the plan she was about to set into motion. She felt a little ... silly, dressed like this, but she was well aware that her appearance in the bazaar, especially without Makoto, would be a cause for alarm for many who might recognize her, even without her staff.

She glanced at where Makoto lay slumbering. He had been up until almost dawn, buried in some musty old tomes. And she, anticipating the likely outcome of that activity when he first appeared to lose himself in it earlier in the evening, had not sought to divert him as she usually did when he lost track of time. And her reward would be the next couple of hours, where she could slip away, without Makoto and without her staff (already tucked away under their bed), to pay a visit to the bazaar. With luck and inspiration, she would find the perfect gift and be back before he awoke.

Ifurita quietly debated with herself how best to accomplish this mission. In the end, flying won out: if she was careful, fewer people would be aware of her whereabouts, and it would be faster, giving her more time for shopping at the bazaar.

She walked lightly to the window and peered out, watching the courtyard below and waiting patiently. After a couple of minutes, she spied her opportunity and flew quickly out of the window, arcing up into the sky, and then down just as quickly onto a rooftop at the edge of Floristica not too far from a street that lead to the bazaar she had in mind to visit. She walked to the edge of the roof and, spying no one below, floated gently down to the pavement.

Perfect, she thought with a little self-satisfied smile. Turning, she began to make her way towards the bazaar. She was soon lost in the crowd of pedestrians moving towards, and flowing into, the main entrance of the bazaar. She began wandering from shop-front to shop-front, waiting for inspiration to point one out to her.

Finally, on the third street she turned into, a shop-front beckoned. It was a small dark shop, with a musty oder that announced itself as she entered: the smell of books. Old books. Very old books. Although the day was bright outside the shop, within there was a dark stillness only interrupted here and there by small pools of light from the lanterns strewn about haphazardly. At the far end of the shop, behind an ancient wooden counter, leaned an equally ancient-looking shopkeeper. He looked up in surprise, as though a visitor to his shop was the last thing that he expected. However, he recovered quickly enough.

"Good day, M'Lady," he said, as he made his way around the counter and approached where she stood. "Is there something that I can help you with?"

Ifurita smiled, and the shop seemed to brighten because of it. "Yes. I am looking for a very special book, for a very special person, for a very special occasion."

"Ah, very good, m'lady. And might I inquire as to the nature of this occasion?"

Ifurita thought for a moment before replying. "It is for an anniversary."

"Ah yes, quite," he replied after a while, when it became obvious that additional details would not be forthcoming. His eyes began to systematically track across his shop first in one nook, then back at Ifurita, then into another nook, back at her again, over and again, all the while stroking his chin slowly. Ifurita waited patiently.

At last, with a small "Aha!" half muttered to himself, he turned and made his way to the farthest, darkest corner from where they stood. After a few moments and additional muttering, he returned with a book. It was a large, dark brown leather tome, inlaid with what appeared to be gold filigree: it was difficult to tell in the muted light. He turned to face Ifurita, opened the book carefully to about its midpoint, and presented it to her.

"This is a fine specimen, excellent craftsmanship," he said, "perhaps the oldest volume in my shop. And it tells a beautiful story."

She took the book from his outstretched hands and moved closer to a nearby lamp to examine it. It was written in a florid, archaic style long since abandoned in Rostaria. The page on the left was richly illustrated in bright colors, showing a couple, their arms locked, looking into each other's eyes.

He pointed to the illustration. "She is Nephara the Fair and he is the god Astal. This book is the tale of their great love for each other and the many adventures they had together. It is a very old tale, old even by the time this book was made. It would make a fine gift, don't you think?"

"It is a strikingly handsome book," she admitted, as she slowly turned the pages. "And how do their adventures end?"

"Ah," he said, stroking his chin again, "she is mortal and he is a god. So of course, in the end, she dies and there is an end to their adventures. It is sad, but it is the way of these things."

Ifurita had reached the final page in the book as he finished speaking. Astal knelt by a simple stone, a look of sorrow upon his face. She shivered slightly and closed the book. "It is a very lovely book, but I do not think it is the gift that I seek."

She handed the book back to the bookkeeper and quickly turned to leave.

"Perhaps I could interest m'lady in something else?" he asked, but to no avail, for she was already gone.

Standing once again in the bright sunshine, Ifurita slowly composed herself and turned to return to the spot in the bazaar from where she had started. Maybe I was being hasty. He had many other books and perhaps one of them would have made a suitable gift. Something of a more ... factual nature. She held fast to that thought for a while, rolling it about in her mind. But, then again, perhaps it is not with a book, whatever its nature and no matter how well-intentioned or insightful its author, that I can express what I want to say for this occasion.

Retracing her steps, she soon reached the Palace, landing ever so quietly in their chamber. Makoto was still in bed and still asleep. Ifurita walked softly to the side of the bed to make sure of that. Perhaps I should seek advice from someone with more experience in these matters than I have. But first, I had better retrieve my staff.

~~~~~

Makoto stirred, turned in the bed, opened his eyes, and looked straight into a familiar pair of blue eyes. Those eyes registered just a hint of surprise, quickly replaced by a warmth that matched those in his.

"Good afternoon, sleepyhead," she said, smiling a winsome little smile as she stood up, staff in hand. "I'm sorry if I woke you up. I thought my slippers were under the bed, but they are not. I'll check in the closet."

Makoto rose and stretched, breathing deeply as he did. "It's all right. It's high time I got up anyway. You shouldn't have let me sleep so late." It was then that he noticed her staff. "Are you going somewhere?"

She glanced at the staff and then back at Makoto. "Yes, I thought I'd go for a walk along the palace walls. I didn't want to leave you stuck with it if you awoke while I was gone."

She turned quickly, walked to the closet and grabbed the first pair of slippers that she found. She sat down in the chair facing away from him, placing her staff on the floor next to the chair. It would be better that he not notice that she was simply replacing the pair of slippers she was already wearing with the pair she had just recovered from the closet.

It was not a necessary strategem, for Makoto's mind was otherwise occupied. A perfect opportunity to do some gift-hunting on the sly, he thought as he watched her.

After nudging the removed slippers under the chair with one foot, she stood up, staff back in hand, and turned to face him with a smile. He smiled as well as he rose from the bed, crossed the distance between them, and embraced her. He was careful to use the 'safe embrace' which, like their other safe forms of physical contact, did not establish a link. They had discovered long ago that there are charms as well in simple physical contact and had perfected these little physical gestures to accommodate. Ifurita, in her turn, had done the same.

"Have a nice walk, dear," he said cheerily. "If I'm not here when you return, I've gone to return those books that kept me up so late."

As Ifurita exited the apartment, she could not help but feel pleased with herself. He didn't suspect a thing. For sure, I would have given it all away a year ago.

As soon as she left, Makoto quickly dressed, caught up his previous night's reading, and exited their apartment as well, turning in the direction opposite to Ifurita's. It wasn't the most direct route out of the Palace, but he would be much less likely to encounter her on her walk this way. He had already selected as his destination the bazaar closest to where the books needed to be returned.

He stopped first to drop off the books, staying for the briefest period of time that politeness allowed. He then set off for the bazaar. When he arrived at the main thoroughfare leading into the bazaar, he set about his task with an accustomed methodicalness that soon found him in front of a shop-front whose doorway was festooned in purple and white curtains. The sign above the door offered a promise of things catering to the female persuasion. This seems like a good omen, he thought as he entered the shop. And nearly bumped into the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper recovered quickly, his hands fluttering into a small ceremonial greeting. "Good day to you sir. What brings you into my humble shop on such a fine afternoon?"

Makoto surveyed the shop from one side to the other. As far as the eye could see, there was an abundance women's goods. If there was rhyme or reason to their arrangement, he could not discern it.

"I am looking for an anniversary present," he said at last. "A first anniversary present." He decided to leave it at that, just a little vague: the shopkeeper did not appear to recognize him, and he certainly had no intention of mentioning Ifurita by name, just in case.

"And do you have something in mind already?"

In fact, even after all the time he had spent thinking about it, Makoto still didn't know what he was looking for. He had bought Ifurita any number of little presents over the past year to commemorate one thing or another, and sometimes just because. But Ifurita was almost totally lacking in acquisitiveness and, although she genuinely enjoyed the things he had presented to her, he couldn't say that he had bought any of them because she had given any indication that she wanted to possess them.

"Sir?" inquired the shopkeeper at last in an attempt to move the proceedings along.

Makoto twitched himself back into the moment. "No, not really. I am open to your suggestions."

The shopkeeper pondered for a moment, and then decided against inquiring any further concerning the lady -- his customer did not appear to want to be any more specific. Instead, he began a slow walk around the shop, stopping from time to time, placing his hand on first one item, then another, seeking his own inspiration. At last he stopped before a neatly folded pile of fabric. He lifted it up with both hands and turned towards Makoto. "Perhaps a formal gown made to the lady's measurements?"

The fabric was pale blue, faintly shiny, and very smooth. On Earth, Makoto would have said that it was silk. He walked over and extended his hand, sliding it up and down the fabric slowly. The fabric was cool to the touch and even softer and smoother than earthly silk. He closed his eyes and imagined it cut into a long, flowing gown, hanging down from Ifurita's pale shoulders. He mentally drew it in about her waist with a sash of the same material. She stood by a window, moonlight playing off the folds in the fabric as she slowly turned. He imagined it dropping down in loose folds both in back and again in front as she completed her turn. And then he was beside her, mimicing in his mind the motion of his hand that he was still making there in the shop. On the next upstroke, his hand continued up to her neck and then outwards, catching the fabric of the gown in two fingers and gently sliding it off her shoulder. His other hand moved to her other shoulder and repeated the motion. The gown slowly slid from view ...

The shopkeeper noticed that his customer seemed to be moving farther away from the reality of the shop and the matter of a potential purchase. "Sir? You would perhaps be interested in this material?"

Makoto sighed slowly and opened his eyes. A fine present indeed. But for some other occasion. Looking around the shop again, he decided that the same could be said for everything else that he saw as well. "Thank you for your time, but I think that I need to keep looking." He turned quickly and left the shop before the shopkeeper could attempt to talk him into staying. Standing once again in the bright sunshine, he slowly composed himself and turned to return to the spot in the bazaar from where he had started. Perhaps I should talk to someone who has been through this already.

~~~~~

It made sense to seek help from a friend. But that only led to a new problem: Ifurita didn't have many friends. Many knew her by sight, but few were willing enough, or brave enough, to approach her, much less converse with her, still less be friends with her. And some still hated her for what she had done when she had first been re-awakened by that megalomaniac, Jinnai.

But one of those who did call her friend was Princess Rune, who turned to greet her as Ifurita made her way across the garden separating them.

"Good morning to you, Lady Ifurita," said Rune as the look of concentration on her face gave way to a small smile.

"Good morning to you as well, Princess," Ifurita replied as she executed a small bow.

"This garden does not get many visitors besides myself at this time of day. I take it that this is not a chance encounter?"

"No, Princess, it is not." Ifurita paused for a moment. "I have come to ask your advice. I am looking for ideas for an anniversary gift, and I am afraid that I don't really know that much about the art of gift-giving."

Rune sat down on the stone bench that she had been standing next to, and she motioned Ifurita to sit down next to her. "Well, I am flattered that you would think highly enough of my opinion to come seeking it, but surely between Makoto and you the problem is not insurmountable?"

Ifurita frowned slightly. "But the gift is FOR Makoto: are you suggesting that I ask him what he wants and give him that?"

"For Makoto," Rune began, and then her voice trailed off as she thought. And then, with the small smile with which she had greeted Ifurita returning to her face, she resumed. "Ah! I see now. My apologies, I thought your question was in regards to the upcoming anniversary of the Fujisawas. But you are seeking advice for the anniversary of Makoto bringing you back to El-Hazard, are you not?"

In truth, Ifurita had been so preoccupied with the question of Makoto's gift that she had not considered at all the Fujisawa's upcoming anniversary, their third. Indeed, their second anniversary had happened so soon after Ifurita's return from Earth that she had only become aware of it after the fact.

"Yes, Princess, it is. I apologize for not making that clear from the beginning."

Rune reached out and patted Ifurita's hand. "No need to apologize. I think it's a fine idea and a very appropriate occasion to celebrate with a gift."

Rune stopped at that. The quiet continued for a while, until she spoke again. "You really don't have any idea what to get him?"

"No, not really. We've celebrated little things along the way this past year, but mostly by going places and doing things with friends. Makoto has given me presents from time to time, but they were for small things or just because, which is insufficient information for me to work with for a gift appropriate enough for this occasion. The only other present I recall that we gave was at the Fujisawa's first birthday party for their daughter. That obviously won't do for my purposes, either." She paused for a moment before finishing with a little smile. "And, of course, I can't very well ask him for advice."

Rune smiled at that as well. "No, of course not." She rose from the bench, walked to the nearby balcony, and looked off into the distance. Ifurita remained seated and waited.

Rune turned towards her. "Well, my mother gave my father a ceremonial dagger for his first anniversary on the throne. It was a very beautiful thing to see, especially in the sunlight during outdoor ceremonies. Since you both live here at court and attend many court functions, perhaps you should consider something along those lines as a gift?"

Ifurita thought for a moment. "That sounds like an excellent choice for your father, but it wouldn't work as well for Makoto, even if only as a ceremonial or decorative piece."

Rune thought for a bit. "It doesn't have to be a weapon, of course, even one that is only ceremonial. It could be some other form of adornment. Perhaps a ring or a watch?"

"Perhaps," said Ifurita slowly. But Rune could see in her face that this was not a gift-giving direction that Ifurita appeared interested in taking. She decided to try a different tack.

"Perhaps you should consider getting a traditional Roshtarian first anniversary present? Among my people, it is common for a couple to plant a sapling, both in commemoration of the event and as something that will grow with them as they live their lives together."

Rune could see that this suggestion had a more positive impact on Ifurita as she considered it, so she continued. "It's a very appropriate custom when you think about it: it's a shared activity, and a constant reminder of the bond between a couple. And it continues to be a testament to the couple as well with their children and grandchildren for as long ..." Her voice trailed off. That was stupid, Rune, you should have thought more before you spoke.

Ifurita rose from the bench and walked over to Rune. She smiled a little smile. "It's alright, Princess. We ARE an unusual couple. If we were like other couples, I think that this would be a simpler problem. I appreciate your taking the time to talk it over with me."

Rune hadn't run out of suggestions, but she recognized that the opportunity for offering them had passed. She said simply, "I am certain that you will find just the right thing to give to him, Ifurita."

"I hope so, too. And thank you for the vote of confidence." Ifurita turned and retraced her steps across the garden. She means well, and those are fine suggestions for a gift, perhaps even one of our anniversaries. But not THIS anniversary. She paused for a moment and looked up at the sky. But I'm almost out of time and I still don't know what to do. Maybe I should try someone who is closer to him.

~~~~~

Makoto found his sensei alone in the house that Rune had given to Miz and him when they were married. It was not in the palace (neither of them had wanted that) but close enough to it for convenience, since they were often called upon to attend one function or another.

"Good to see you, m'boy," said Masamichi cheerily. "I don't see much of you these days, you know. They must be keeping you very busy at the palace."

Makoto could only muster a short "Yes, they do," and left it at that. In fact, he spent little of his time at court functions, and Rune called upon him sparingly at other times. His sensei knew this as well, but preferred to pretend otherwise. Makoto suspected that his sensei was a little disappointed that his most promising pupil did not have or desire to have a bigger impact on events around him.

It appeared to Masamichi that Makoto was waiting for him to broach the subject of the purpose of this visit, especially since he was alone (when was the last time he had seen Makoto without Ifurita?). "What brings you here today, Makoto?" he said at last.

"I'm looking for advice, Sensei. It's been almost a year since I finally figured out how to bring back Ifurita. I want to celebrate the occasion by giving her a gift. But I just don't know what to get her. I was hoping that you could offer some suggestions since you've been through several anniversaries already."

"Well, I'm glad to help in any way I can, of course. Miz and I have celebrated two anniversaries so far, and I think I did pretty well by her for both of them."

This sounds promising, thought Makoto. "What did you get her?"

"Well, for our first anniversary, I gave her a timepiece. Perhaps you could do the same?"

Makoto knew the watch. He had seen Miz wear it on many occasions, a lovely slim piece in gold and small, glittering diamonds. She was very proud of it. Perhaps ... then again, perhaps not. Ifurita had a built-in chronometer, it kept better time than any timepiece on El-Hazard, and it didn't need winding (although Ifurita did, of course: he smiled at the little joke). "That's a possibility," he said. "What did you give her for your second anniversary?"

"Ah, that was another stroke of genius on my part. Come, let me show you."

Masamichi led him back through a hallway, and then left into the master bedroom. Against the far wall was a vanity, weighed down under a large assortment of feminine gadgets. In the center of this collection, on a gilded tray, was the set of objects to which Masamichi directed Makoto's attention.

"I gave her these," he said proudly.

Makoto had seen grooming sets like this one before in the bazaar, although none nearly so fine. This one included combs and brushes, as well as files and clippers for manicure and pedicure. He examined first one piece, then another; each was finely wrought in silver and pearl. Masimichi was right: they were exquisite and were clearly a splendid gift. For Miz. And for every other woman he knew in Floristica. But not for for Ifurita. To be sure, she had hair and nails as did any other woman but, well, they didn't need maintenance: they didn't grow.

He debated for a moment mentioning this to Masamichi but decided against it. "You did quite well for yourself, Sensei, and I appreciate your taking the time to help me out with this. I hope that I can do as well for Ifurita as you have done for Miz."

That did not sound to Masamichi as though he had helped all that much but, then again, he had also run out of ideas. Which was the problem that he had been wrestling with when Makoto had turned up. And the problem to which he returned after he and Makoto exchanged enough additional pleasantries to permit Makoto to take his leave.

As he stood outside the home of his sensei, Makoto cast about for additional alternatives. Well, there is one more person I can think of to ask, he thought to himself. I probably should have asked her to start off with. With that, he headed off in the direction of a familiar cafe.

~~~~~

It was very late in the afternoon, but still before the dinner rush, that Ifurita found herself entering Nanami's cafe. She spotted the proprietress standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Good afternoon, Nanami," she said with a smile and a little nod of her head.

Nanami wiped her brow with the edge of her apron and walked over to Ifurita.

"Good afternoon yourself, Ifurita," she said cheerily. It appeared to Ifurita as though Nanami welcomed this little pause in the mad scramble of final preparations before sunset and the accompanying throng of patrons. It appeared to Nanami as though Ifurita was on a bit of a mission, especially since Makoto was nowhere in evidence. Even after all the time that Ifurita had been back from Earth, it was still unusual to see her without Makoto very close at hand. There were several reasons for this, of course, not all of them pleasant for her to think about, even after all this time.

Being Nanami, she cut right to the chase. "So, what brings you here to my humble establishment ... and without Makoto?"

"I need advice, Nanami. I want to give Makoto an anniversary gift. I've tried shopping on my own and I've asked for advice as well. But nothing I've seen or heard has yet lead me to a gift that I think is truly ... appropriate. You've known him longer than anyone else here, and I'm hoping that you can help me."

As Ifurita continued, Nanami could tell that, although Ifurita was still looking in her direction, she really wasn't looking AT her: her focus had turned inward. "It's been a year since he brought me back from Earth. For ten thousand years before that day, I waited patiently for that reunion. Since then, I have lived every day to be with him, to love him, to love being with him. What gift can I give to him that will express how much this year with him has meant to me?"

As she finished, Ifurita's focus returned to Nanami. Nanami had a look on her face that Ifurita could not read.

Nanami paused for a long moment before speaking. "I can't tell you what to give him. What you are trying to express with this gift goes beyond my experiences as well. But you two share a unique bond, and only you truly know what's in his heart. So, my advice to you is to look into your heart." Nanami tapped Ifurita lightly with an extended finger for emphasis. "There's nowhere else but here to find the answer to your question. You already know what you want to say to him with this gift, and only your heart can find the perfect expression. You need to trust in yourself that you can find it."

Ifurita was quiet for a long time, lost in her own thoughts. Nanami began to fear that she would have to interrupt those thoughts soon: she had a dinner rush to finish preparing for. But, suddenly, just a hint of smile came to Ifurita's face as she looked up and into Nanami's eyes. The smile broadened as she reached out and gave Nanami a hug and whispered "Thanks" into her ear. Then she turned and left, with a step that seemed, to Nanami, much lighter than when she had come into the diner.

When she was alone again, Nanami smiled a little smile as at some private joke, but whether in amusement or irony she kept to herself.

~~~~~

It was very late in the afternoon, but still before the dinner rush, that Makoto found himself entering Nanami's cafe. He spotted the proprietress standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Good afternoon, Nanami," he said with a smile and a little wave of his hand.

Nanami wiped her brow with the edge of her apron and walked over to Makoto.

"Good afternoon yourself, Makoto-chan," she said cheerily.

Makoto glanced around the diner: there was no-one there but the two of them. Still ...

"Getting ready for the dinner rush, I see," he said at last. "It sure is quiet at the moment. Where's Ren?"

"She's in the back, Makoto-chan, chopping vegetables. Do you need to talk to her?"

"No, no, actually, I came to talk to you, Nanami" he said. And paused.

Nanami knew him well enough to read the signs; she decided to give him a bit of a nudge. "So, what do you need to talk about, Makoto-chan? Is it something to do with Ifurita?"

She could see something click behind Makoto's eyes. He smiled and stroked the back of his head with his hand. "Yes, it is. I guess it's pretty obvious since she isn't here with me." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I need some advice, Nanami. I want to give her an anniversary gift. I've tried shopping on my own and I've asked for advice as well. But nothing I've seen or heard yet sounds right for her." As he spoke, his voice became more animated. Nanami could feel him almost looking through her at an invisible presence, one with blue eyes and platinum hair. That hurt a little, but it was a hurt she had come to terms with.

"It's been a year since I brought her back from Earth. For three years before that day, I thought of nothing but finding a way to be reunited with her. Since then, I have lived every day to be with her, to love her, to love being with her. What gift do I give her that can express to her how much this year with her has meant to me?"

Nanami sighed a little sigh and waited patiently for Makoto to return to her. When he did, she motioned to a nearby chair. He sat down in it. She sat down as well, in the chair next to his. She took one of his hands in both of hers.

"I can't tell you what to give her, Makoto-chan. What you are trying to express with this gift can only come from you. The two of you share a unique bond, and only you truly know what's in her heart. So, my advice to you is to look into your heart." Nanami squeezed his hand for emphasis. "There's nowhere else to find your answer. You already know what you want to say to her with this gift, and only your heart can find the perfect expression. You need to trust in yourself that you can find it."

Makoto was quiet for a long time, staring down at his hand in hers. Nanami began to fear that she would have to interrupt those thoughts soon: she had a dinner rush to finish preparing for. But, suddenly, he looked up; there was a broad smile on his face and especially in his eyes. He placed his free hand on hers, still holding his other hand, and squeezed. "Thanks, Nanami. You've been a real help." He let go of her hands as she did his and then rose quickly from his chair. "Good luck with dinner tonight, Nanami" and then he was through the door and gone.

When she was alone again, Nanami smiled a little smile as at some private joke, but whether in amusement or irony she kept to herself.

~~~~~

The moon bathed the palace in a pale light. The light, and a gentle night breeze, slipped past the curtained windows and into their bedchamber. Small talk and playful banter had yielded to heavy lids and then to slumber, at least for him since she did not need sleep. She watched his slow, measured breathing, and the play of the shadows on his face made by the curtains as they fluttered at the window. She reached out and touched his brow lightly with one hand, closed her eyes, and entered quietly into his slumbering mind.

~~~~~

He knew that he was dreaming, but this was not a dreamscape that he had seen before. A broad meadow of brilliant yellows and greens stretched out before him. At the meadow's edge tree branches, bent at unfamiliar angles, swayed gently in a warm breeze, their leaves a blend of colors not found on Earth, nor even in the places he had visited on El-Hazard. Tall and sturdy, they drew his eyes from their multi-pointed tops down towards the ground.

Then he saw her, kneeling in the swaying grass. He walked up to and knelt down beside her, his gaze turning towards the direction in which she was looking. Two small birds, splashes of reds and blues, were flying in and out amongst the branches of the trees, first one following, and then the other. Then they would spiral upwards, turning about each other in a dizzying dance of wings, their forked tails grazing each other with little caresses.

After a while, she turned to him and spoke softly.

This place I remember from long ago, from before even the time that I became a demon god. I watched these birds and wondered whether such a moment would ever be accorded to me. Whether there was another, somewhere, with whom I could share this moment, this feeling. Whether there was another, somewhere, with whom I could exist in this moment and experience this feeling. I so wanted him to be there with me to experience the moment.

They were quiet for a while longer. Then, she stretched out one hand to him. Their fingertips touched lightly, then their fingers slid together and their hands locked. And he understood.

~~~~~

A puzzled look appeared on her face. There was something about this memory that was different. She concentrated, and then she recognized what it was: the sound of falling water where none had been originally, coming from beyond the trees. She let go of his hand, rose and walked to the edge of the meadow, into the trees, and then through them to the other side.

~~~~~

This was not a place that she had seen before. Soft white shafts of sunlight filtered through a gray haze of clouds. A tumble of rocks, jagged in blacks and dark grays, rose in the background, parting midway to permit egress to the waters of a small stream that cascaded over and down the rocks to fall into a small pool. Thin layers of ice floated on the surface of the pool, barely moving beyond the edge where the waters became still. Her eyes followed the ice patches to where they touched the shoreline.

Then she saw him. He was kneeling by the side of the pool, one hand gently making swirls in the water between the patches of ice. He looked up at her and smiled, inviting her into his reverie. She walked over to him and kneeled down herself, extending her hand into the water to make swirls of her own. They knelt thus, in silence, watching the swirls intersect. Finally, he removed his hand from the water, turned to her, and spoke.

This place I remember from Earth. I visited it not too long before coming to El-Hazard. I had never felt that the world was so ... right as I felt there at that moment. I wanted to be able to share that feeling with just the right, the perfect, someone. I so wanted her to be there with me to share the moment.

They were quiet for a while longer. Then, he stretched out one hand to her. Their fingertips touched lightly, then their fingers slid together and their hands locked. And she understood.

~~~~~

He stirred, eyes opening slowly. The night had not yet ended, but it was now the night of a new day. She was there, sitting by his side at the edge of the bed, partly awash in moonlight, her skin almost pearl in color, her pale blue hair framing her face, now partly hidden in shadow. Their eyes met, and held.

"Ifurita."

"Makoto."

They were quiet for a while longer. Then, he reached up to her as her hand extended down to meet his. Their fingertips touched lightly, then their fingers slid together and their hands locked. In that instant their minds linked ... and they understood. Each had wanted to give something special to the other to symbolize the joy of this moment, of this day. Of being in this place above all other places, of being with this soul above all other souls. And each had given the perfect gift.

~~~~~ end Anniversary ~~~~~

Thanks to Vince Seifert for pushing me to make this a real story :)