a/n: hello, friends! i've returned with some raguna/bianca for you. well, subtle raguna/bianca as i wasn't sure what to focus on in this. the 'kiss' can be interpreted however, but my intention was (i suppose) to cop out and assume that you associate wedding with the wedding kiss. )
on the other hand, you could consider death's kiss. whatever floats your boat. finally gonna finish this challenge, hopefully!
Title: sorrow.
Author: alcoholiccoffee
Pairing: Raguna/Bianca
Fandom: Rune Factory
Theme: #6, the space between dream and reality
Disclaimer: Rune Factory © Natsume.
He woke up there but couldn't remember how. He didn't remember himself, body or mind. He didn't recall how time passed, what it became, what it lead to; he wasn't aware of anything. When he woke up, he was just there (here?) and he was alive, and there was nothing except the forest and the grass and the woodland animals.
His most primitive instincts told him to walk, to survive, but he didn't know where he was and he didn't understand direction. He was alive, though, and his brain sent all of those electrical signals that would make him move and walk and try to understand. After a while, the understanding stopped mattering. He was dying, and he remembered at least what it was to die, and he was afraid. He stopped thinking about the world and about himself. He only walked.
All of the walking led him to a house near a river where this peculiar blond woman lived. Believing he would survive now, he collapsed and sought solace and rest.
The peculiar blond woman found him, started his life for him, and went as far as to name him (Raguna, she said). She didn't know him, but she adopted him into her world and her village. Although Raguna was no longer dying, he wondered why understanding mattered. He distracted himself from what he wanted to know (thought he knew, once) and become engrossed in the new things to learn.
Over time, he lived and died. His farm was large and successful. He ventured into caves every so often for extra money and materials. Sometimes he planted crops in the caves. Otherwise, he fell in love, married, and had children.
But he never understood.
At one point, it stopped mattering at all. He lost himself in the new world and settled down. He was happy. (He thought he was happy.)
On his deathbed, his bones ached with the wanting though. (Who am I?) All of the fear and the uncertainty and the need to understand rattled him. As his final hour approached, reality slipped out of his grasp. He saw people that he didn't know with features of the people he did; he saw women with his wife's curly blue hair but masked faces and children like his with faces of ghouls.
He saw his house, the simple wooden cabin, and noticed that something seemed off without being able to place what it was. His friends visited and their appearances shifted ever so slightly, making them look like completely different people. Raguna blamed it on fever, but his bones knew.
Deep down in his bones, he understood that this was what happened to people who never understood. Beyond the door of souls, all that remained for him was the eternal wanting and wondering, and the pain associated.