Submission (#3998) Approved

He's not one for sentimentalities but there are a few things that can still bring a tear to his eye and make his lip quiver. Only just a little bit, though.

edit; I added some bold text at the end to qualify for the AP so you guys don't have to reread through the whole thing, I hope this is ok! Let me know if it needs anymore adjustments.

Kawa will never admit this to anybody, but he keeps a secret close to his heart. It's a bit frayed around the edges now, and the color has faded despite his best efforts of keeping it out of direct sunlight, but he loves the candid photograph he keeps tucked away in the pocket of his jacket near his chest. The image is relatively simple, taken a bit spontaneously and without much rhyme or reason to the occasion for such. Despite not being any sort of professional, Kawa has always been a bit proud at how well the photo turned out. Miyuki stands nearly perfectly in the center of the frame, half turned to look back at where her presumed companion was standing. A lovely expression paints her face, Kawa swears he can still remember how her eyes sparkled as brightly as the falling lights from the sky, and her arm is raised towards the falling lights that look like shooting stars. The actual colors of the lights has long since disappeared from the picture, the only sign they were once there are bleached streaks of white in the dark background. Yet despite the apparent weathering of the photo, the object of his affection is still as beautiful as the day he first saw her across the cobblestone paths in his hometown of Bellmoril.  And wrapped carefully around her neck is the same teal scarf that Kawa now keeps tied religiously around his, kept as a silent prayer to his feelings and proof that she existed in his life. 

So when he awakens in an unfamiliar place, in an unfamiliar bed, and with little to no light to guide his surroundings, the first thing that Kawa does is to check and make sure that he feels the familiar folded square that is normally in his breast pocket. Panic seizes at him when he is met with a distinct emptiness (the physical kind, he's long since felt the emotional kind since her departure from his life) and he quickly sits up muscles aching and protesting along the way. But before he can frantically scour the place in search of the photograph, a voice cuts through the darkness and Kawa whips his head towards the source.

"They must be pretty important to you, to have kept this is such good condition after all the years." Kawa is met with familiar red eyes, broken horns, and shattered anima. Closer to the adult, however, he's able to pick out a few more features that give a more...gentle appearance. The stranger's eyes aren't hostile and the crown, although corrupted, somehow manages to give a soft glow to their face. They seem...tired. The scattered wrinkles and scars, long hair halfway tied up with a few long bangs to cover their left eye. The glow of corruption still manages to linger along the veins, but even they don't seem to be angry anymore, as though in time they too have exhausted all of their rage. Kawa breaks eye contact first, eyes darting down to the photograph held in the careful hands of the stranger. He misses the soft smile that the adult Elnin gives his way.

"It's dangerous to be out this far in the mountains without a guide. Here," Long arms stretch out towards Kawa, who is quick to snatch the picture away and begin tucking it back into his jacket, but not before running his thumb longingly across. "And it's unfortunate you managed to stumble upon this place in particular. Although..." The Elnin looks Kawa up and down, ruminating over a few things. "It doesn't appear as though you were purposefully attempting to travel this far into the terrain." Kawa stiffens and turns to look towards his unlikely companion of sorts, but relaxes a fraction when he finds no animosity apparent on their face. 

"My name is Jiro, I used to live here along one of the outskirt towns of Sulapei. I appreciated the solitude that was offered here, although as you may be able to tell, its been quite some time since I've used this place for it's intended purpose of living." Jiro, now known, speaks while carefully moving around the old home, with such grace that Kawa has no choice but to believe his words ring true. Jiro seems to know his surroundings well, and he soon returns to the bed where Kawa sits. In his arms are a folded pile of clothes that, while old, are still in good condition. He lays them carefully near the foot of the bed and pats the top of them. "I still have some clothes from when I was about your size, although they still may run large. Do your best to change into them and I can try and get as much of the dirt out of yours as possible."

Despite the gesture of good will, Kawa is still hesitant to reach for the articles, and instead curls the bedsheets into his hands. He musters up as much courage that he can afford. "Why are you helping me?" The question seems to catch Jiro off-guard, for the older Elnin trips up a little in his steps around the home. Jiro pauses for a moment, looking out the window (he will have to make sure to clean the glass in the future, Jiro thinks, the grime makes it a bit harder to see than he would prefer) and into the dark, distant land. Not much light can make it through the mists of the mountain during the night, and especially so where he lives, something he used to enjoy but now he almost resents such a fact. But Jiro knows this land well to still imagine the green hills, waterfalls of disproportionate size falling into the unknown fog, hidden ruins covered in vines storing knowledge far beyond his reach. When his eyes close to ponder the young Kittom's question, they instead greet the darkness. In that deep dark he can even remember a figure of white and red standing along beside him, exploring the landscape by his side. Her touch as fleeting of a memory as the sounds of the wildlife he once loved. There's a chime of bells in the far back of his mind, the fluttering of wings. Then, a pained scream.

"Because I know what it means to lose something important." The words are spoken like a confession. Kawa thinks that they aren't even really meant for him, but for somebody else in some other time. They weigh heavy in the kittom's mind. He recalls the well-kept journal (diary?), the writing that tore rapidly across the pages, ink smeared in a rush of written, repeating words. Kawa's heart clenches at the realization, his stomach sinks at the thought.

"You...were the author?" Kawa questions and the sorrowful look on the elder Elnin's face is all the answer he needs.

Its daybreak when Kawa steps outside the structure he's now a guest within. Despite it being so early in the morning, there's still some visible fog that has settled across the land and lays thick like a blanket. The despair in Kawa's heart feels the same and he can't help but curl up within himself and let the tears fall down his face once more. He thinks of all he has done to get to this point, the dirt underneath his fingernails from ruins he's traveled through still remains, and the journey through Kyendi to this point has not been an easy one.  The grey mist seems to reflect his mood so much better than the lush and green vegetation that he grew familiar with and trampled over to get here. When he first arrived he was impressed with the scenery; the rich farmlands and floating islands made this region feel like a dream, even the fog seemed more like an etheral mist. But now, in the rounded mountains and misty hills, he feels like that dream has morphed its way into a nightmare and doubt settles over him as thick as the morning fog.