Golden Era (Book 2)

80. Descent

Fuji's voice faltered at this part.

He wanted to stop here, aware that telling the rest of the story would inarguably be a death sentence for Ayuna. As if looking straight into his mind, the Creator commanded, "Go on."

"That's all there is—"

"I know it doesn't end here," the Creator cut him off brusquely. "Seeing the way you looked at her—even in a mortal body—it's obvious the story doesn't end at a hug. I want to hear the complete, unembellished account."

Raising his face, Fuji's eyes moved from the Creator's unrelenting gaze to Ayuna. Just like in that distant past, he still saw in her that special something that existed for him and nobody else.

The pace of his heart slowed somewhat. He decided he would tell everything as it was, as if it was only for her.

***

It occurred to Fuji later that he'd made a grave mistake.

In the coming days, he felt an insidious desire burrowing into his heart and taking root there. No matter what, he couldn't stop thinking about their contact. On and off, his thoughts wandered back to holding Ayuna in his arms. He would catch himself reminiscing her presence and her warmth—her head resting against his shoulder and her arms around his waist. It was a luscious memory he couldn't get enough of.

Thankfully, Fuji was sent away on another mission shortly after. The displacement couldn't have been more timely. He happily went away, believing distance would be his remedy.

True to his expectations, the intrusive thoughts tapered off with time. Fuji was confident he would be able to look at her as just a student again. Relieved, he adhered to their traditions and brought her a souvenir from the mortal world. 

On the day of his return, Ayuna was in his residential garden. During his absence, she'd diligently tended to his Japanese garden: trimming bonsai trees, raking the rock garden and providing feed to the notoriously gluttonous carps in his koi pond.

She was clipping away at the evergreens in a seersucker dress when he arrived, her umber hair swept up into a loose knot. In the height of the morning, life stirred in the garden. Bees buzzed over azalea shrubs while songbirds chirped, leaping over one branch to the next. Sunlight fell against her shoulders as she tossed away yellowed needles. 

Hearing his footsteps, she stopped snipping and waved. As she stood up, the hem of her dress swayed in the breeze and her forelocks fell over her eyes.

Fuji's heart lurched, followed by a sickening drop of his stomach.

Weeks of serenity was pulverized in an instant. He fought to keep his expression neutral as she approached him.

Shading her eyes from the sun, she beamed, "Welcome back. Was it a smooth trip?"

He nodded stiffly.

"What did you bring me this time?"

Wordlessly, Fuji held out a strand of pearls he bought from the fishermen on the shores of the Japan Sea. While she studied the necklace, his eyes stayed on her. "Do you want to try it on?"

Ayuna nodded. She wound the pearls around her neck and struggled to fasten them.

Stepping around her, Fuji offered, "I'll help you."

She let him lock in the clasps. The pearls felt cold when they fell against her collarbones and she released a surprised gasp. Fuji's breath caught. Watching her hands run over the luminescent necklace, he knew he'd never be able to look at her the same way again.