where you go i go

Nineteen

Four-hundred and eighty-five years had passed since the end of the war, and yet the Archives still stood strong and austere amongst the mountains.

It was funny, Nayoko thought as she continued her trek forwards, that she had never expected to see the place again when she had left all those centuries ago. She had expected it to be destroyed in a war, or fall to ruin from neglect, crumbling away until it became one with the mountains once more. And yet, she couldn't help but be glad that the place that had brought her so much pain and so much happiness and so, so much sadness was still there to welcome her back. Was it selfish, perhaps, to be thankful that her trials had not yet been forgotten to history?

As she took a turn in the path that opened up to the vast stone stairs that led up to the monastery, she stopped in her spot and gasped in surprise. There were more people at the gates than she had ever seen before, excitedly chattering as they waited to enter. There were no monks, or nuns, or students, there were just... people. Just ordinary people, ready to visit the stone monument in the mountains.

When Nayoko looked towards the stairs, she found her again.

Her hair was still the same, bright shade of golden red, cut short to her chin. Her eyes still held that dangerous gleam despite a demure outfit of a white linen shirt and black breeches. The bronze name tag shone in the midday sun, reading: Josephine – Museum Curator. She still looked just as young and serene as that meeting in the New World Capital.

Nayoko wondered if she would always find her as strikingly beautiful as she did, or if there would ever be a time where the sight of her would no longer leave her breathless. Considering how many centuries had already passed, Nayoko had begun to accept it as a constant.

When their eyes met Nayoko felt her heart stop for the first time in a long time.

After the crowd moved on to their next sight, they were left in relative solitude. Just the two of them, and the grand entrance hall of the monastery. How familiar it felt.

"I didn't think you would come," the curator spoke, clasping her hands behind her back.

"I wasn't sure I would either," she admitted.

It had scared her more than expected.

"Nevertheless, I am glad you came," she conceded, and gestured for Nayoko to follow her as she began to walk, "How are you, have you been well?"

"Yes, I have... Funny, it's been a long time since I could say that."

For a while, neither of them spoke. The distance between them felt strange as they walked, yet Nayoko only had herself to blame for putting it there to begin with.

"Is the cemetery still intact?" she asked as they walked through the grounds.

"Mostly. The... significant headstones are still accounted for," she broached the subject hesitantly, and she could see from the corner of her eye the look of concern passed her way,
"Would you... like to see them?"

"I would," she said, swallowing down the emotions that had crawled up her throat.

When they reached the stairs that led down to the green patch of grass covered in old, weathered headstones, she remained at the top of the stairs while Nayoko headed down to the corner. The ground was damp with morning dew as her knees pressed into it. She leaned forward, brushed her fingers over the marks that had been worn down by time, unreadable to the eye but forever etched into her stone heart.

"Hi Dad, it's been a while," she murmured as she stroked his name. "A lot has happened since we last talked. You have a grandson, did you know? Maybe you've already met him..." Nayoko paused, suddenly overcome by the emotions she had buried away for so long, and her breath shuddered as it passed her lips.

"He was beautiful and brave and everything you would hope your grandson could be, and he made me very proud. I... I hope you're proud of me, too. I know my life isn't what either of us thought it would be, but I've tried to make the best of it. I– I'll continue to try. I promise."

"I miss you."

The tears felt cold on her cheeks as the wind blew, but as it ruffled through her hair like Gregor's hand once had, it didn't make her sad like she had expected. Instead, she felt awash with relief.

When she turned, her knees digging into the grass and staining her pants green, she found the other woman standing some distance away, her awkward half pace displaying her own indecision about whether to leave her be during this private moment.

Perhaps she still felt the urge to step in and comfort her.

A small flame that had shrivelled and died inside her centuries ago suddenly sparked alight at the thought, and it confused her greatly.

She stood up and walked over to her.

She turned her head to look away, "It's late, I should be heading off."

"You can stay the night if you like. The rooms are fully furnished."

"I... No. I've already sought out accommodation in the town. But, thank you, for the offer," she declined.

"Allow me to walk with you into town then," the curator asked, something in her voice gently pleading with her.

"Okay."

She smiled briefly and held out the crook of her elbow for Nayoko to take. She reached out and looped their arms, settling into a familiar comfort.

When they stopped in front of the hotel, she released her arm and stepped back.

"Will you keep in contact? I would appreciate it if you would keep me updated on your whereabouts."

Nayoko nodded in agreement, feeling lost for words.

"And... I hope I will see you again, soon."

"You will. I promise."