Fan Fiction: The Sound of my Heart -1

*An Otherworld Fan Fiction....*



Written by Olivia

[timeline: a few months after Otherworld 11] Rated G for everyone

Chapter 1


Everything he had believed and found comfort in was slowly falling apart and despite the look of indifference he was giving his sister, inside he was overflowing with a sense of newfound loneliness. His father was dead, his mother was bound, and now his sister, the one who had always been there for him, stuck by him throughout this whole ordeal, the only one who shared the same pain and loss, was leaving him too.

		Her eyes were begging him to understand and accept what she was saying, imploring him, with a look he knew better than anyone else, to let her go as well. He watched her silently for a few moments, choosing to ignore the mixed look of determination and desperation in her eyes and focus instead on the way she shuffled nervously. She didn’t need his consent, of that he was well aware, but despite this fact she still craved his approval. He had always been the stronger one, she had turned to him in times of need, and he had protected and comforted her even when everything had started to fall apart. Not for much longer though, from tonight onwards she would turn to another. Azuma knew he would take second place for a while, until of course she had children and then he would take no place at all. He would be uncle, favorite brother, but not her everything like he was so used to being.

He felt slightly bitter that she was moving on without him, slightly jealous that she was doing it first, and slightly remorseful that he couldn’t move on with her. It was those feelings that led him to dip his head slowly in a nod; he couldn’t bring himself to lie outright. In reality he neither approved nor disapproved of her choice, for that was hers and hers alone. He said yes because it would make her happy and she deserved to be happy. His sister deserved the world, and if she thought Atheo could give it to her then he would yield to that belief. He had never hated Atheo, merely thought him weak, but to Atheo perhaps that had transcribed to the same thing. Amika didn’t see her soon-to-be mate as weak though, and so Azuma had said no more about it. He kept his fears to himself and since danger had once again been vanquished perhaps they were unfounded anyway. He had worried about her safety at first, and then he remembered that she was nearly as powerful as he was. When they were younger it had always been the two of them, distanced from the others by the age gap and at the first sign of any danger Azuma had pushed himself further to ensure her safety -- it was what a brother did. However, those days had long since passed. They were equals, partners and to a certain extent even rivals. She no longer needed him and he had been filled with a sense of uselessness and longing, a longing for things to return to the way they used to be. She had slowly begun to slip away, ever since the purple haired boy came round with his kind words of encouragement. He said his father had often told him how he had felt in the same situation. That Athrun had made it through the pain with the help of his mother and had shyly taken her hand in his own. His sister had smiled through her tears and found comfort in his company. Azuma had left her to her folly, assuming that she would come to her senses, that all she needed was someone to share her grief with who was not suffering from the same loss. He had thought, despite knowing about her feelings for Atheo, that it was a phase, Azuma should have known better. In truth he hadn’t wanted to know better, he had wanted to remain ignorant. He had naively believed in the promise they made as children, to both find mates at the same time, so neither would be alone. He didn’t dare remind her of that; however, he had no right to destroy her future by holding her back with childish promises. He had been replaced, but because she was smiling and hugging him tightly he smiled and hugged her back, because that’s what brothers do.

		“I know we’ll be okay,” she said with a smile as she rose and set off back down the hill. She paused for a second to see if he would follow, but she caught the far off look in his eye and knew better than to expect company home. She loved her brother dearly, but he dwelled in a past he wanted desperately to recreate and she longed for a future of mystery and adventure. Azuma wanted things to stay the same and she wanted everything to change, and it was that, more than her mating, that drove them apart.

He watched her walk away from him and towards her new life and came to realize, not for the first time, that he was slowly losing his purpose. Before his father’s death he had always believed that he too, one day, would become one of the Village’s protectors. His grandfather had stated proudly that he saw the potential dwelling within his grandchildren and, that despite their mixed heritage, they were Thunder Demons through and through. Azuma had always taken pride from that statement; making himself stronger to achieve his ultimate goal, to be needed. However, as he sat on the hill he was filled only with a sense of worthlessness. In truth he was of no use to the village. There were already so many strong protectors, including his own grandfather; he was surplus to requirement before he even started. Had he his own set of fire wheels then perhaps he would have been of use, but he didn’t and never would. Here in the village he was unnecessary and it hurt his pride to admit it to himself. He knew that his decision had been a long time coming, and now that Amika no longer needed him he finally felt the tides of change take hold of him. It was time he left the Village. By morning he had packed his belongs, written a brief note of farewell to his family and departed. He knew now, without a shadow of a doubt, where he should go. He would go where a protector was needed, where no other member of his family dwelled, he would go to the Northern Keep. He hoped The Keep would offer him a place to prove himself; somewhere he could belong and be needed as an individual. As he made his way towards the Village’s portal, his thoughts stayed once again to his family. He had though, stupidly it seemed, that the death of his father would bring his family back together. The cracks had already been there, with his parents’ arguments going on late into the night and Atheo’s slow but sure acceptance of his sister threatening to tear her away also. So when the news of his father’s death smacked his reality back into place he found an almost odd comfort in his grandfather Hiten’s tears. They were the tears of a family grieving together, the individual pain was unbearable, but together it was sufferable and it soothed him to think that way. Only for his mother it had been too much, the loss of her mate cut deep, deeper still because he departed that day to the sound of bitter words. Vashir was able to comfort his mother in a way neither he nor the rest of his family could. Azuma lost his father first, then his mother and now his sister. Death, he came to realize, doesn’t bring families closer together -- he only wished his delusion could have lasted longer.

Azuma was so lost in his thoughts that when he entered The Keep through the portal he was shocked from his reminiscing by the soft haunting melody, which met his ears as he emerged. At first he was bemused, but that confusion was soon replaced by inquisitiveness. It annoyed him somewhat that he couldn’t quell his curiosity and that his desire to follow the music and find its source was very alluring; it made him feel almost childlike. He pushed that thought away, however, after a moment and decided rather that it was just common sense; after all he felt it prudent to inform at least one of the residents of his plans, he needed an inside opinion on what his best course of action would be after all.

		The sound led him to a young Demon, sat amongst the grass. Azuma stood a small distance away scrutinizing the boy. He looked at peace, with an air of calm encompassing him. He seemed at home within both his surroundings and maybe even life. Azuma felt awash with an immediate sense of jealously, which he subdued quickly. Instead he folded his arms and, walking closer to the boy, snorted softly; he’d never had time, or more accurately never made time, to indulge himself in such nonsense as music. It was a pointless hobby; it improved nothing.

As if sensing the other boy’s presence and distain, Rimari opened his eyes and smiled slightly to the newcomer, offering his name and a brief greeting in his quiet melodic voice. Azuma noted that even his voice and demeanor leaked tranquility. Azuma politely returned the greeting and gave his own name to the boy pleasantly smiling at him. As if sensing the awkwardness Rimari gently asked, “So what brings you to The Keep? If you are after my mother I’m afraid I’ll have to see if she is able to meet with you, my little brother is taking up much of her time of late.” He wasn’t sure what made him answer so obligingly, maybe it was the gentle smile, or his tranquil nature, or even just that despite himself he still needed to talk to someone, but he found himself telling the white-haired Demon everything. Azuma was never really one for talking, always being the more introverted of the twins as his mother would say, but words flowed like water today and he let himself drown in his life history. He spoke aloud his fears of not belonging, of powerlessness and most importantly of loneliness without his family. Rimari commented softly that he had never known his own father; that he had died before he was even born. He continued to say that he saw his uncle as a father figure, but despite that he would have still liked to have known his father. “Stories of his life,” he remarked, “are no substitute for the real thing.” Azuma shrugged his shoulders in a noncommittal manner and answered nonchalantly, “I long for what I have known and lost, you long for what you know you never had.” Azuma’s embarrassment at having revealed so much about himself led him to speak such a brash statement and he expected Rimari to take the words almost insultingly. It was meant in the same manner as the way he used to insult Atheo, that of a defense. Azuma never wanted people to get close to him; back then he had Amika and his family, which had been more than enough. Now he had no one, it was true he had forced solitude upon himself, but he wanted to be alone now. He had a family and lost it, he didn’t want to go through that pain again. If he closed himself away he believed he could heal. He wanted to be strong, strong enough not to need other people. Rimari, however, didn’t seem to take the words as an insult, but rather as a sign that the other boy had talked enough for today, so he closed his eyes and resumed his playing; plucking the strings of his harp softly, so well practiced that he needn’t even look at his fingers. Azuma assumed, from this action, that he was required to wait until Rimari believed it the best time to seek council with Namari. It was noon when Rimari ceased his playing and rose, offering a hand to the moody Thunder Demon. Azuma ignored the hand and dusted himself down as he rose, keeping his eyes fixed on The Keep and letting Rimari take the lead. Rimari, for his own part, put Azuma’s behavior down to nerves and simply led him to his mother's study in silence to avoid further conflict. “I’ll wait out here if you like?” Rimari offered kindly, and Azuma in his shock raised his gaze to eye level and gave Rimari a slight nod of acceptance, it couldn’t hurt after all. “I feel the need to warn you though,” Rimari added in a solemn tone, “that despite being sure my mother will accept your offer I think there will be one other person you will need to persuade.” Azuma quirked an eyebrow questioningly, but Rimari offered no more and instead nodded his head towards the door. Azuma just rolled his eyes and did as he was told.