Bitter Dreams, Sweet Dreams | String of Stardust

String of Stardust

~Suzette ✧ Chapter VII~

༻Bitter Dreams, Sweet Dreams༺


     Hikaru and I continue our journey through Florêt Folwêkhdin in complete silence, both of us enshrouded by a sense of confusion and unease. I merely keep my eyes fixated upon the ground, watching my step, avoiding his gaze as much as possible. The past, the future…I wish to think nothing of either of it! Yet even so, last night’s vision continues to repeat within my mind a dozen times; yet, I am no closer to knowing how to feel of it.

     I wonder if he is experiencing the same—although I suppose for him, I imagine he is less confused, and more so simply upset. Ah, it is understandable now why he would become so irritable at any prodding into his life…I can only imagine most would be well on their way without him by now, too disgusted to be near him. And yet despite this, I still remain drawn to him, still find it difficult to part from his side…

     Eventually, in the distance one can see the trees become sparser, signaling the cessation of the ancient forest. For a moment the sunlight blinds me, the Sun’s rays now on full display without any trees to scatter them about. Once everything comes to focus, we find ourselves upon the edge of a vast green meadow, stretching as far as the eye can see. Speckled throughout are smatterings of wildflowers, and for a moment I cannot help but grin at the sight.

     For a little while longer we traverse through the meadow. Soon, he breaks the silence for the first time since we had awoken.

     “Do you want to rest for a while?”

     “I suppose so,” I reply, even though we have not traveled terribly long today. Still, after last evening, a little rest would be a relief. And so, we seat ourselves right where we stand.

     Sitting in the meadow, a sense of calm washes over me. The clear blue Sky, tall grasses and flowers flowing with the wind; yes, it truly is lovely to see! All ill and disconcerting thoughts leave, at least for a moment. Eventually, however, my gaze turns towards him…

     He sits with his hands clasped upon his legs, his face blank as he merely stares towards the ground. Personally, I would prefer to say nothing at all. And yet, he appears to be in a rather sorry state, even with the beauty around us…I cannot simply leave him to suffer alone.

     “Hikaru, are you well?”

     He jumps a little and gazes upon me with a startled look, seemingly forgetting I am here at all. Yet he lowers his gaze once more, and meekly smiles.

     “Yeah, I’m fine,” he whispers unconvincingly. “Last night was just unpleasant…but, I knew that might happen. Nobody to blame but me.”

     “At least we are alive, yes?” I say, thinking it an uplifting thought—before abruptly realizing that is not actually the case at all. Depending on how one looks at it, someone had died…

     “Yeah, you’re right,” he answers, somehow even quieter than before.

     I decide it would be wise to cease speaking. Yet, even so, my eyes remain fixated upon him.

     So many years have passed since that day; yet, at this moment, it appears he has changed little. Even now, that man’s death still weighs on his heart…but while back then he could hardly hold back his tears, now he is entirely stoic. Normally he appears somewhat carefree and optimistic, yet for now he is anything but.

     I wonder how he came to this point…I wonder how he came to that point. There is so much I wonder about him, it seems the more I learn, the more enigmatic he becomes. However, for as curious as I am…it is rather awful to pry into someone’s life without their knowledge. Although it appears I may have no choice, should these strange dreams continue. Ah, this must be why they always say to be wary of your wishes… And now, I have new questions I am unsure I quite want the answer to.

     Could I truly be that man…?

     “Suzette,” Hikaru says abruptly, “Is everything okay? You’ve been staring at me for a few minutes now…”

     He noticed…

     “Oh, I was just in a daze. Last night was rather…”

     “So, you’re thinking of it too?” he asks, and I nod.

     “If only I knew why…” I whisper under my breath, absentmindedly.

     “What did you dream about?” he asks, and suddenly I panic.

     That is a normal question to ask, is it not? And yet, I do not anticipate it at all—wait, am I beginning to act similarly to him now? Well, we do both share one secret. Though only I truly know this…

     “It is very personal…” I answer, “I would prefer not to speak of it…sâ pšyku, Hikaru.”

     “So…you too, huh?”

     I nod dejectedly.

     For a moment he merely sits still and rests his chin upon his hands, staring off into the distance. Then, he slightly turns his head, gaze fixed upon me.

     “Then maybe we should talk about something more pleasant,” he smiles sweetly, “Thinking too much on the past is awful…take it from me.”

     “I suppose so,” I reply, still only partly paying attention.

     Speaking with him, interacting with him at all is the exact opposite of what I wish to do; yet is there any other choice? Although it may be a tad cruel, to ignore him for something that is scarcely his fault…

     And to be truthful, I do usually quite enjoy our time together. Even if everything is a tad awkward presently…

     “Hmm…” he sits for a moment, pondering. “What do you plan to do with your bakery?”

     “Oh, well,” I shift my gaze away from him, slightly embarrassed, “It shall be quite a while before that will come to fruition; I try not to think of it too deeply.”

     In truth, that is a lie…much of my time throughout the day is spent imagining it. But perhaps because that dream has been hammered nearly to the point of shattering, I find it strangely difficult to speak of it with others, lest they attempt to break it completely. I know he is not that way, yet…

     “If this journey ends by the end of summer, you may very well have it by the year’s end.”

     I believe he notices the surprise on my face—though of course I have hoped it is not too far away, I had not even realized it may truly be so close—!

     “I-I would prefer not to bother you with talk of such mundane thin—”

     “I don’t think it’s mundane at all,” he chimes in before I can even finish speaking. “Maybe with my travels and what I deal with, my life seems more interesting than it is; in truth, I don’t particularly do much…I’m sure whatever you have planned is much more interesting,” he grins.

     “So,” he says, positioning himself straighter, “What sorts of things do you plan on making there? Well, something more specific than ‘baked goods,’ obviously.”

     “Oh, you know—”

     Suddenly, I stop myself.

     What…do I plan to make there?

     For numerous years now, whenever I received the chance to bake at all I took the opportunity, regardless of what was asked of me. Any opportunity, no matter how tedious or time consuming, was a wonderful blessing merely for how rare any chance became. Thinking upon what I would enjoy baking most, more specifically…I am unsure if I even know that well anymore. Although thinking upon it more deeply, I can recall one thing I once loved creating.

     “I believe I would prefer to focus on sweets,” I begin, “Foods which are more artistic, ones you cannot perhaps eat every day…that is what I tend to enjoy the most.

     “It has been so dreadfully long since I baked regularly, yet when I was young, I especially enjoyed baking macarons; they are rather difficult, but the result is so delicious, and looks so lovely—ah, I know, perhaps that is the most inane reasoning possible, yet—”

     He chuckles quietly.

     “You need not laugh…” I whisper dispiritedly, “I know it is silly.”

     “No, no, that’s not it—” he fumbles, sounding slightly panicked, “It’s just, when I was a child I loved eating them, largely for the exact same reason.”

     “You had them as a child? But I thought only more wea—” Abruptly, I cease speaking. “Forgive me, I do not mean…”

     “My, you don’t have to apologize so much; it’s all right,” he sighs. “I understand why you’d question, considering my current circumstances; but for a time, my mother and I were rather well off, technically. Even if she was just—” He suddenly stops mid-sentence as well.

     “I guess what she was doesn’t matter,” he mumbles.

     For a moment I am confused, before suddenly I realize what he is likely referring to.

     “Was your mother…a mistress?” I inquire quietly.

     “That was the only way she knew how to get us out of Asàshí,” he sighs. “So, if you want to look at me differently—”

     “I do not…not at all, Hikaru,” I assure him. “My origins may seem ‘auspicious’ to you, yet…ah, well, I promise it is not so simple as it appears. And besides, I never truly belonged with my family, so it is not quite so glamourous regardless…

     “I will not judge you or her for that; it sounds like she was lovely, even going through that to take care of you…”

     “That would make her happy to hear,” he replies meekly. “Everything she ever did, it seems, was for me. Even if I’m her child, I’ll never quite understand why…”

     “Maybe someday I can tell her?”

     “Ah, I hope not any time soon,” he sighs. “She’s been gone a long time, about—almost thirty-five years now. Damn…” his voice drifts off, as he gazes off into the distance.

     Last night’s dream was long ago, yet I am certain he was not so young then; so by that time, she was already…

     “Sometimes,” he continues on, “I think about her even now, even if it seems ridiculous, it being so long ago. For nearly that entire period of my life, each other was all we truly had…but such is fate, I suppose.”

     He closes his eye, and sighs deeply.

     “Sâ pšyku vrémond né, Hikaru; I-I do not know what to say…”

     “There’s nothing you have to say,” he replies, looking up towards me. “I’m fine. It’s been a long time. Life has its ups and downs, but either way it goes on. I’m just grateful we even got what time we could spend together, that she gave me a chance at life at all.”

     “That is a pleasant way to view it,” I grin, but inside I feel a sense of pain, from sympathy…yet also, a strange sense of emptiness.

     Life has its ups and downs, he says; and yet, thinking upon it, I truly do wonder if my life has ever had an “up?”

     From birth, my life was comfortable and stable; and aside from the past few years, relatively pleasant…enough, I suppose. Yet, outside of certain circumstances…it has always been rather empty, has it not? While they were rarely so cruel as Marc, I have always been a sad embarrassment to my relatives. So improper, being so unsightly in a family known for their beauty—I have never quite belonged… The only one who loved me, I believe, was Florence; yet even he disappeared without a trace.

     Hearing Hikaru talk of his mother, the sorrow from her absence that lingers even decades later, that dream of him and Alex—I am unsure I have ever experienced a relationship so close…even from the short vision, it was impossible not to feel it, that overwhelming love between them.

     It is no wonder baking has grown so important to me—what else do I have? Who else do I have?

     I remain still, paralyzed by the revelation… All this time he appeared to me such a lonely person, but it appears we truly are not so different after all, are we?

     “…Well this didn’t work at all,” Hikaru states suddenly. “It appears I’ve made you even more miserable.”

     “No, it is just…nothing. Do not concern yourself with it.”

     He sighs, concern clearly written upon his face regardless. Yet even so, he moves past it.

     “So…earlier you said macarons were your favorite thing to make?”

     “O-Oh, right, yes!”

     At first I am a bit taken aback by his question, entirely forgetting this conversation had begun so innocently.

     “How often did you make them?”

     “Hmm…” I ponder for a moment, attempting to discover some answer.

     “I cannot remember,” I reply at last. “I have not been allowed to bake in a long time…perhaps twice a year would I truly get a chance to create anything substantial. And macarons were simply too intensive for me to bake in secret.

     “Ah…” I muse on, “Although I remember enjoying them, I cannot even remember the taste now, either.”

     “Is that so,” he says, reaching for his bag as he does so. After a minute of rustling, he swiftly gazes back towards me, with a slight grin.

     “Would you like to remember?”

     I merely answer with a look of confusion.

     “There’s a rather large town nearby,” he says, “I’m sure they have some sort of bakery there; even if they don’t have macarons exactly, hopefully there’s something good there. And—” Rapidly, he brings out a small pouch from within the satchel, “I’m not entirely broke.”

     “Are you certain you wish for that?” I ask, slightly flustered. “With everything you have already done—”

     “It does depend,” he answers. “Would it help make up for last night, even a little?”

     “Well…” I look to the side, smiling slightly despite myself.

     “If we head out now, we should arrive around dusk,” he states while standing up, and brushing himself off. “Is that fine with you? It’s on our way anyways.”

     “Yes, I would enjoy that,” I answer, following suit. “Mâzjêr né, Hikaru…you really did not have to.”

     “It’s no problem at all,” he replies with a gentle grin.

     Silently we continue our trek through the meadow, bathed in the Sun’s gentle rays. Once more, my mind wanders to thoughts of the previous night. Even though I hardly know a thing about Alex, in this moment, I wonder if I understand him, even if only a little…


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Lovingly created by [James Margaret Rose].