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star crossed lovers !
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" Makoto, wake up!"
Makoto lurched forward, a guttural scream was ripped out of her throat. With her eyes still screwed shut she sobbed, her cries muffled by the shoulder of the silhouette hugging her, steadying her as her body convulsed violently. The pale light of the moon encased the room, filtering through the window. It loomed over the starless sky, echoing around the dark of the night.
" Makoto, Makoto listen to me," It whispered, tightening its grip on her frame," You were dreaming, it was a dream."
Makoto slumped against it, exhaustion overcoming her body as sweat glistened against her skin. Her nightgown clinging onto her body, her hair sticking against her nape.
"Breathe," It reminded her, crooning gently as it cradled her,"Open your eyes."
The girl shook her head vigorously, eyes still screwed shut, but tears were already making its way down her pale cheeks. They listened to the light chirping of crickets outside the windows, waiting for her to recover from her shock.
" They were hurting him, I could feel it," She silently cried, trembling fingers curling tighter around the man before her," I could feel him. He's hurt and I couldn't do anything about it."
She pulled away, to gaze up to the solemn face of her uncle. In the moonlight, she could see the wrinkles lining against his forehead, the one etched against the corners of his eyes. He gave her a forlorn look, pity flashing against his glossy eyes.
They looked heavy, either with the lack of sleep or the weight of the world, Makoto could never tell. But they always held a sense of comfort, it assured her that everything was going to be alright.
It made her feel safe.
" Who was being hurt Makoto?" Her uncle asked, tracing circles above her hands.
She looked past him, scanning her eyes over the map plastered against the wall of her study. Red strings crossing one another to connect to pictures of ensign Rosen bridges, falling stars, news headlines of alien sightings. A sticky note with agent Coulson's phone number taped on the right corner and flashes of what happened in New Mexico came back to her like a flood.
She remembered meeting him in her dreams, she remembered his smile, the rain, her grandfather's grave. Then the next morning Coulson had called, calling her in. A man had broken inside the facility, and when he held the hammer in his hands she instantly knew who he was.
She had tried to chase after the blond, but he was dragged away. She could recall calling out his name, as SHIELD agents held her back. Her cries were muffled by the thunderstorm, and right before her eyes the brother of the man she had been searching for her whole life vanished.
Coulson had looked at her in shock, as she wept under the rain. He had interrogated her about it, and she was forced to tell him everything. It poured out of her mouth like water in the river, she didn't bother to stop. She was desperate to find him, to finally meet him. Thor had been her only lead and they took him away, just like that.
She remembered Coulson looking at her in regret when he brought in a red-eyed Jane Foster. The scientist couldn't look at her in the eyes as she told her that he had left and that he was not coming back. Makoto could feel her own sorrow creeping up against her throat, waiting to escape itself as a cry.
Instead, she reached out to hold her hands in hers, and she mustered up the strength to stop her voice from quaking as she told her;
" He might not come back, but we will look for him. We will find him and you will meet him again," She assured her, even if she wasn't sure herself.
Those words brought color back into Jane's cheeks, and that was enough to help her continue her search.
At least now, Makoto wasn't the only one looking at the stars, searching, hoping.
The bedside creaked, and it snapped Makoto out of her thoughts. She was no longer in New Mexico, she was back in her home in Nagoya. A year had passed, yet she still hasn't stopped.
Her gaze lingered at a faded piece of paper, it fluttered lightly against the midnight breeze. In the middle was a sketch of a man with mischief in his eyes, and they seemed to be alive as they stared back at her.
" He was being hurt," She looked at her uncle, squeezing his hand," This feeling, it's consuming me. I know him, but I can't-"
" Remember his name?" Her uncle finished his voice barely above a whisper. A silent gasp escaped Makoto, and she urgently cupped his hands, holding it close to her.
" You," She trailed off," Did father tell you?"
" No," He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ears," But my father used to say the same thing."
" What," She asked, dazed from the new information," You mean, grandfather, he also had these dreams ?"
" Yes," Her uncle admitted, misery curling around his voice," What a fool I was, to ignore them. I'm not going to make the same mistake with you."
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" Your father and I had always been worried about your grandfather," He started slowly, staring down at the blankets, " His curiosity was far beyond his time, while everyone else was too busy looking at the ground our father had always looked up."
" Our mother died when we were very little, it broke our father's heart to watch her go, so he found solace in the stars. He spent his time locked up in the attic, tinkering with telescopes and maps, charting stars and involving himself in extraterrestrial business."
Her uncle drew a shaky breath, " Your father found it unfair, that your grandfather had decided to forget about our mother instead of dealing with the grief. He was angry, that when we needed him the most he left us to wander in his own little world. It turned your father bitter, and when he turned sixteen he got into a fight with your grandfather and left for Tokyo. We didn't see him for ages."
The wind outside rattled against the window, and Makoto drew her blankets closer to her.
" Your father was too busy dwelling in his own anger, that he did not notice how our father had changed," He whispered, " I would sneak inside the attic when he was asleep, and I'll see sketches and paintings of people I've never met. Places I've never seen. Golden castles and heavenly plains, men, and women in heavy silver armors."
" Asgard," Makoto murmured, the truth dawning to her.
" Yes, that's what he named it," Her uncle nodded in remembrance, " But there was this one painting that caught my eye, it was a woman. She wielded a sword bigger than her body, and she rode on a horse with platinum wings. The painting itself was beautiful, her eyes were blue like ice, yet warm like nectar."
Her uncle had led her out of bed, and the floorboards creaked under the weight of their feet as they go gently into the night. His uncle grabbed a nearby hammer, and he swung it against the lock on the trapdoor.
With a loud clanking, followed by a thud, a staircase fell. Makoto raised her head to look up to the entrance of the attic, it was void of any light.
" Your grandfather wrote in his journal that she would visit him in his dreams, and she would take him to every corner of the universe," Her uncle trudged up the feeble staircase, and Makoto followed behind, lightly clinging onto his hands as dust covered her toes.
" One night I heard him scream, it woke me, and I sprinted into his room. I found him on the floor, hands clutched against his chest as he wailed," Her uncle sniffed, and he pulled a line to switch on the single lightbulb dangling from the roof.
The light revealed a room full of drawings, of faded papers posted against the walls, collecting dust. Canvases were tossed against the floor, scattered as they flashed pictures of a woman with bright Prussian eyes.
She knelt to pick one up, eying the words scribbled under it.
' Valkyrie, elite guards of Asgard. Her name: unknown.'
" He doesn't know her name," She scanned the other paintings, and under it would be scribbles of words questioning her name.
" He couldn't remember her name," Her uncle corrected, picking up a picture, " That night he kept on rambling about how she died. How he saw flashes of her in battle with her sisters against death herself, and he felt it, he told me, when death grabbed her by the throat and pierced her sword against her chest."
Makoto nearly dropped the picture, looking at her uncle as tears began to cloud his eyes.
" I was confused back then," He rasped," I didn't know what to do. So I left him to cry alone, for days he wouldn't stop. Some days no tears would come out but I could feel it, this pain that was swelling inside him. I thought he wouldn't smile anymore."
He placed the picture face down on the table," Until your father came back from Tokyo with you in his arms."
He pulled a drawer a fished out a framed picture of her and her grandfather. He was carrying her on his shoulders, smiling as if he did not know pain or loss. The ear-splitting grin radiated its own kind of warmth, a relic from another time, a memory.
" Your grandfather loved you more than anything Makoto," Her uncle reminisced," He was afraid that like both your mother and her, you would slip away from him, so he held on to you tightly until his very last breath."
Makoto could still recall that night when she saw a falling star zipped past through her. The merciless winter chill consuming her as she lay on her grandfather's grave, wishing that he would come back.
" I'm sorry, that you have to bear the same burden as him," Her uncle sobbed, and he slumped against a wooden chair," I'm sorry that I couldn't help you sooner, that I failed you like I failed him."
Makoto shook her head, kneeling in front of him," Don't be. It wasn't your fault, or my father's. You both were angry, confused, scared. I'm sure, he forgives you."
" I won't fail him anymore, by letting his granddaughter suffer the way he did," He promised, as she wiped away his tears," Go after him Makoto. Follow your instinct's. Take Hideo-kun with you,go wherever you need to go.Don't let him slip away."
She stared at the red string sprawled across the table, and it struck her.
Musubi.
They were connected, one way or another they are always together and never truly apart.
They weren't just dreams.
" He's coming here, to earth," She stood up suddenly, clenching her fists, trying to visualize fragments of her dreams," There was a man, no, he was taller than a man. He stood in the dark, and he manipulated him. He tortured his mind."
She winced at the lingering pain that stung her head," He's heading for, for"
She trailed off, and beside her the sun began to peak through the mountains, bathing it in a golden glow. She could hear chickens crow in the distance, echoing through the slopes and curves of the hills.
She saw flashes of high rise buildings, despondently crowded against one another. She could hear the blaring of honks and the chattering of people in the distance.
" New York," The words escaped her lips," I have to go to New York."
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Whew, 1969 words for this chap !
For those who are confused, this takes places a few days before the battle of New York and (a) year(s) after New Mexico.
In this chapter :
Her mind is technically connected to Loki's in a dream, and since Thanos is haunting Loki's mind, manipulating him to attack New York and etc.
Makoto could feel it to.
Feel free to ask questions in the comments if you are confused ! I'll fix any wrong info asap, comment and feedback is welcomed.
Please don't forget to vote, it took a lot of effort to make this story and I'd like to know if you guys enjoyed it :)