Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Tunnel Vision ❯ Once More Dear Friends . . . ( Chapter 1 )

The lilting strains of Billie Holiday's golden voice drifted through Hitomi's dreams, coaxing her eyes to drift open. Not bothering to read the glowing green numbers of her radio alarm clock, the young woman rolled onto her back and gave a lazy stretch. She took a deep breath of fresh morning air and began to sing along.

The sleep croaky sound of her voice mingled with the divine jazz diva's warm timber; Hitomi chuckled at the dissonance.

Leaving the great lady to sing her blues, Hitomi wriggled her way out from under the covers and padded down the hall towards the bathroom. She smiled as she passed her flatmate's door and heard Millerna's soft snore wafting from the darkened room. Normally, Mill would have been wide awake hours ago, slurping back her beloved coffee and studying her textbooks with the determined intensity of a bomb squad. This, however, was her first year at Palas University's medical school. A workaholic by nature, Millerna had fast tracked through her high school and under grad studies and at the tender age of twenty one, had been accepted into the university's prestigious Med program, the youngest student ever to be admitted, yet even she found the workload arduous and now and again indulged in the formerly unthinkable: sleeping in on weekends.

Tall, gorgeous, and smarter than anyone Hitomi had ever met, Millerna seemed to live the perfect, problem free life. But, Millerna did have problems.

The first was her family. The Astons were the A pluses of Palas society's A list. They bred socialites, not scholars, and Grava Aston's youngest daughter's decision to side step the familial tradition fo marrying well and relying on her man shocked, upset, and enraged him by turns. Mill was all too conscious of her father's opinion concerning her ambitions. The constant presence of his disapproval practically breathed down her neck. And, more often than she liked to admit, it drove her on. She knew that at the slightest hint of trouble -- one failed test, one botched lab report -- her family would swoop down to drag her kicking and screaming back to 'the good life'. So, pulling consecutive all nighters, memorizing fact after fact, and working herself half to death, Millerna fought for what she loved. Her second problem made every skirmish in the war an uphill battle.

Millerna had been diagnosed with chronic myelogenous leukaemia, the same cancer that, eight years ago, had killed her sister, Marlene.

Hitomi's sunny mood drifted away like so much fog. Sure, Mill never acted like she was sick, never complained of anything more than slight nausea or a headache, but somehow, that made things worse. Behaving as though the leukaemia were no more than a P.S. on the letter of her life, Millerna attended classes, went out with friends, and lived as though nothing was wrong. But something was wrong, something that hung over their heads and caused quicksilver arguments followed by awkward silences.

Hitomi wanted to be there for Millerna, but how do you be there for someone who never seems to need your help? She had lost track of the number of times that she had wanted to ask if the other girl was all right or needed help but had not because she hadn't known how or if she should even try.

Flicking the bathroom light on, Hitomi blinked at the white linoleum's harsh glare. She avoided looking in the mirror. Allen said she looked cute first thing in the morning, but Hitomi had doubts as to his objectivity. Thinking of Allen caused a nagging little thread to pull at the back of her mind. She had forgotten something, but what?

Hitomi gave a mental shrug and pulled her night shirt over her head.

Figuring that she would remember sooner or later, she stepped in to the shower and turned on the water, nice and hot, just the way she loved it.

When the boiling spray hit her skin, she remembered.

Today, she had to do that favour for Allen.

The favour she didn't want to do but had to.

Because Allen was her fiancee, and she'd promised him.

The sound of coffee bubbling and the smell of hazelnut roast greeted Hitomi as she entered the cozy nook of a kitchen that she and Millerna shared. Although, shared was not perhaps the most appropriate word. For someone who could read through medical books like they were the Sunday funny pages, Millerna showed surprising ineptitude when it came to all things culinary, so Hitomi usually cooked their meals. Mill was a crack dishwasher, though, and her coffee making skills more than made up for her other failings.

"Morning!" she sang out and handed Hitomi a mug of the dark, delicious brew.

"Thanks," said Hitomi and sank into her chair.

Millerna poured her own mug full and sat down across from her. She was the only person Hitomi had ever known who could roll out of bed, throw on a bathrobe, and look radiant.

You would never know she was sick, thought Hitomi as she watched the morning sun glow in her friend's flaxen hair.

"Hitomi," came Mill's voice, interrupting her musings.

Hitomi felt her cheeks redden, and she looked away guiltily. Somehow, even thinking of Millerna as being anything other than a normal, healthy person made Hitomi feel like a traitor.

"S-sorry," she stammered, "I was daydreaming. What did you ask me?"

"I asked why you're so dressed up today," Mill replied, regarding Hitomi with raised eyebrows. "You do remember that it's Saturday, right?"

Hitomi's customary weekend outfit was a pair of slightly ratty plaid pyjama pants and a stretchy t-shirt decorated with a picture of a turtle on a surfboard. It was her favourite shirt because though the turtle was standing on a surfboard, he was not actually surfing. He was just standing there on all fours as though to say, 'I'm just a turtle. What the hell am I doing on a surfboard?" Sometimes, Hitomi felt like the turtle on her t-shirt.

Today, she was wearing tan cotton slacks and a peach wrap-around blouse. When most people wear peach, the results are disastrous. When Hitomi wore peach of just the right shade -- more yellow than pink -- her skin glowed, and her green eyes turned half a dozen shades of emerald.

Hitomi took a sip of coffee before returning Millerna's query.

"Today's the day Dilandau gets out of the hospital."

"Ah," replied her friend with a knowing nod. "So, you're stuck baby-sitting little brother until big brother's back in town."

Hitomi laughed; trust Millerna to make the task she'd dreaded sound like an easy way for a twelve year old to pick up some extra cash.

"No, I'm 'stuck baby-sitting little brother' until twin sister's flight from Godashim gets in."

Millerna nodded again.

"I'd consider changing foot gear if I were you," she said, noting Hitomi's cute, strappy sandals, "If the press sees you guys, you'll more than likely have to run for it."

Hitomi knew that Millerna spoke the truth. Allen's family, the Shezars, were one of the founding families of Palas City, and for generations they had passed their time with the respectable occupations of the wealthy elite: funding hospitals, hosting charity balls, patronizing worthy causes. Then, along had come Leon Shezar.

Born with an insatiable wander lust, Leon had dropped out of university to trot the globe. Much to his family's embarrassment, he ignored trivialities such as hotels and roads and civilization. Instead, he trekked through the most remote parts of the world, some of which even modern cartographers had only the vaguest of knowledge. What's more, he kept journals while he travelled and published them so that he could travel further.

They were beautiful books, full of rich, vivid language such as could only be written by one who truly cherished and thrived on the experience being described. A single paragraph could mesmerize readers, making them feel the icy blasts of wind which whipped the peaks of distant mountains or smell the sweet, moist, decaying leaves of the jungle floor.

Both the public and the press had worshiped Leon Shezar. They labelled him a modern day Hemingway, and a photograph of this most elusive quarry was considered priceless, for he was so often beyond the reach of the camera's lens.

Then one day, suddenly, inexplicably, the prodigal explorer returned. He returned, married, had three children, and for many years, travelled no more. He was still the media's darling, however -- the retired hero and his lovely, loving family.

A family trip to Greece ended the fairy tale, for in that country, Leon learned of the legend of Atlantis, a legend which he came to see as a reality. Proving the existence of the mythical continent became his obsession for which he would forfeit his dignity, his family, and eventually, his life. His boat sank during a sudden storm in a remote part of the Aegean sea. His body was never found.

While the press could no longer exploit the eccentric explorer turned madman, his grieving family provided photographers with more than enough camera fodder. It was common knowledge that a shot of the Shezar siblings could feed a man and his family for a month.

None of the children enjoyed this attention, and each found his or her own way to deal with it. Allen discovered that the sooner he let them snap his picture, the sooner they'd go away, so he posed willingly then made a hasty retreat. Celena, his junior by six years, learned to ignore all the fuss, and could walk past a blinding row of flashes without batting an eye. Her twin brother, Dilandau, took a more active approach, physically attacking the press. The wildest of the three, he was the camera's choice target, and being punched out by Dilandau Shezar was considered by the Press Club to be every rookie photographer's right of passage. The inevitable lawsuits, all settled out of court by the Shezar family's lawyers, also provided lucrative bonuses.

Hitomi groaned. She'd forgotten about the reporters. Allen lead such a normal, low key life that for the most part, they left him alone, focussing on his more interesting siblings.

Leaning forward, Millerna reached accross the table and gave Hitomi's arm a friendly, sympathetic squeeze.

"Don't worry too much," she comforted, "Saint Jiichia's caters to the celebrities who stay there. They know how to keep the press at bay. And knowing Dilandau, by now, he's probably desperate to get out of there, so he'll be unlikely to kick up much of a fuss about anything."

"You really think so?" asked Hitomi, hope colouring her voice. From what she'd read in the newspapers, whenever Dilandau decided to kick up a fuss, he was the proverbial bull in the china shop. But, Millerna's uncle Nueva had become the Shezar children's guardian after their mother, Encia, had died, so she knew more about the young man than Hitomi, who could count the conversations she'd had with him on one finger, did.

"Well, I haven't seen him since before he was sent to the military academy in Zaibach," replied Millerna, "but even then, he hated to stay in one place for too long."

"I hope you're right," said Hitomi. She finished the last sip of the coffee that she hadn't even noticed she'd been drinking and glanced up at the wall clock. "Ten thirty," she announced with a wry smile. That was when Allen had said he'd send the car around. "Once more, dear friends unto the brink."

"Damn the torpedoes," advised Mill, "Full speed ahead."

Hitomi slung her bag over her shoulder and walked down the steps to meet the dark grey Bentley which whispered to a stop just in front of her apartment building's stoop. Had this been any other occasion, Allen would have sent the silver model; this shadowy car was the rich man's form of discretion, the automobile's answer to a baseball cap and five hundred dollar sunglasses. It said, 'I'm wealthy, prominent, and most likely famous, but I want to go about my business, so please forget that you ever saw me.'

The chauffeur, in his suit, tie, gloves and cap got out and walked around the her side of the car.

"Good morning, Miss Kanzaki," he said as he opened the door for her.

"Good morning, Zongi," Hitomi replied, forcing her lips into a smile. Taking her nervousness out on him would not have been fair, even though Zongi did make her uneasy. He was built like a spider, all long limbs and quick, furtive movements. His skin was an unhealthy looking shade -- almost purple -- that made his wide turquoise eyes jump out from his narrow face. As he took Hitomi's hand to assist her into the car, she had to fight off her urge to shudder.

She stepped into the back seat and settled herself into its plush upholstery. The door clicked shut behind her, and soon they were on their way to the hospital. Outside, the weather had been humid, one of the heat waves that summer always saves for the first few weeks of school, and now, the car's air conditioning caused the fine hairs on Hitomi's arms to stand on end. She blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the diffused light filtering through the car's tinted windows. Glancing to her left, she noticed a light pink florist's box.

Hitomi lifted the lid and saw nestled in the tissue paper a dozen perfect, pristine white roses. The upward curve of her lips was natural this time. She lifted the bouquet from its box and buried her face in the silky petals, drinking in their sweet, strangely fruity fragrance. As she held the stems, Hitomi noticed that the thorns had been removed.

She lay the roses across her lap and reached into the box for the small envelope that had been hidden beneath the flowers. She tore it open and read Allen's message, written is his elegant, careless scrawl.

His loving words warmed her, and she slipped the card into her pocket as a sort of talisman against her worries. She was being ridiculous, anyhow. She'd met Dilandau once, at the beginning of her relationship with Allen. A brief encounter amongst a swirl of laughing, chattering, drinking party goers was hardly enough to form a fair opinion of him. He'd nodded, looked right through her with a soft smirk, and was then promptly dragged away by his own date, a leggy blonde, the current flavour of the month, who should have worn more dress and less make up. Even if he did seem to have lousy taste in women, Dilandau was going to be her brother in law, and Hitomi wanted to get to know him.

After all, she thought with a chuckle, If I feel anything at all towards Dilandau, it should be gratitude. He's the reason Allen and I met.

It had been during her sophomore year. Hitomi had been walking into Palas University's Alumni Hall on her way to hand in an application to transfer a credit . She'd been busy making sure that every 'i' was dotted and every 't' crossed and hadn't perceived more than the slamming of a door and a flash of burning red before she was knocked over by what felt like a force of nature. The next thing she remembered was sitting on the steps with a skinned knee watching an angry back storm away and being too stunned to even yell. Then, she had felt herself being lifted from behind by large, gentle hands. And, then she had found herself staring up into the bluest pair of eyes she had ever seen.

Whenever Hitomi recalled her first meeting with Allen Shezar, the all encompassing feeling of security jumped to her mind, for it had been a constant in their relationship. With Allen, Hitomi felt completely protected, shielded from a world which often disturbed and saddened her. When they were together, she could escape her troubles and her worries in the soft, rosy mist of Allen's kindness, his gallantry, and his romance. He gave her the element of magic and mystery that she had so often felt was missing from her average, modern day life.

Her friends all thought that their relationship was a fairy tale come to life . . . almost too good to be true.

Too good to be true. . .

The words spun through Hitomi's thoughts for a moment before she pushed them from her mind. She was tired of hearing that old, cautionary sentiment. Hitomi wanted to believe that things could turn out perfectly. They certainly had for her.

Staring out the window to distract herself, Hitomi noticed that they were pulling into the hospital. Saint Jiichia's was enormous, built of white stone, as impressive and immaculate as anyone could wish such an institution to be. Zongi brought the car around to an unobtrusive back entrance. As he got out and walked around to open her door, Hitomi took a deep breath.

She stepped out of the car and walked towards the orderly dressed in green scrubs who had emerged from the building.

"Miss Kanzaki?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Please, follow me."

TBC...