Last Breakfast(?) & First Cause (Tomoyo Daidouji & Ren Tanaka)
|Last Breakfast(?) & First Cause (Tomoyo Daidouji & Ren Tanaka)|
|Date of Cutscene:||03 October 2015|
|Location:||Tomoeda, Asian Plains & Meruvia, Creation|
|Synopsis:|| (OOC note: This was originally two cutscenes.)
It's always darkest before the sunrise.
|Thanks to:||to Tomoyo for letting me post both of these as one cutscene!|
|Cast of Characters:||Tomoyo Daidouji, 165|
'It's too beautiful a day to send your daughter into the jaws of death' Sonomi Daidouji muses as she stares out the window. A crisp early autumn breeze was making the gardens of her Western-style mansion dance, splashes of warm autumn colours already on the trees. However, the morning sun was cutting through it with warming rays, an indicator of how lovely it would be by noon.
'If it were cold and gloomy, at least it would fit the atmosphere,' her thoughts continue as she looks across the table at her breakfast partner. Tomoyo was eating with the same intensity as a prisoner enjoying their last meal before going to the chair. But each time she swallowed, she made a face like she was being force-fed cement. And yet, she kept going, clearly intent on finishing it all.
"Now then... I managed to pull some strings to get some more... permanent weapons for your guards. That should help wi-" Sonomi had said, trying to offer some encouraging or relieving words. But she had been silenced by Tomoyo raising a hand to stop her. It took her a moment to speak, as she had to finish her mouthful of food. "They're not coming with me Mother. I won't let them be hurt on my account."
Sonomi crushes a napkin in her hand, using thumb and index finger to tear scraps off of it to calm herself. She had expected this, Tomoyo was just too soft-hearted to ever let them do anything more strenuous than drive her around. "Tomoyo, getting hurt on your account is in their job description. They are going with you, and that is that." Tomoyo only had one more thing to finish, her cup of milky coffee. A habit she had picked up after opening her store, she had joked that she wasn't adult enough for black coffee yet.
"They didn't sign up to deal with people with powers. Kidnappers, stalkers, yes. But nothing like this. Besides..." She's checking her watch now, as she forces down the last dregs of the hot drink. The atmosphere turns ominous, dangling off the cliffhanger sentence. "Besides what?" Sonomi asks, a lump in her throat as the fear and dread she feels intensifies.
"Besides, I don't think they'll be much help at all. Especially since I crushed some sleeping pills into their breakfast."
Sonomi immediately stands up, slamming her palms onto the table. She wanted to yell at her daughter, condemn her for doing such a thing, for putting her life even more at risk. But her knees buckled suddenly under her weight, exhaustion washing over her, settling its hooks in right down to the bone. Blearily, the woman peers down at her own half-eaten breakfast. Had she really?...
Tomoyo has rounded the table now, helping her mother back into her chair, an apologetic smile on her face. "I'm so sorry Mother, but I can't let them be hurt because of me. And I especially can't let you stop me. I'll... I'll do my best."
The last thing Sonomi sees before her eyelids become too heavy is Tomoyo leaning in to plant a farewell kiss on her cheek. The last thing she hears before a drug-induced oblivion is Tomoyo choking back a sob.
The irony that no one will know is that the man sitting at the top of the mountain does not impress the ones who made the mountain.
But there are not so many of them as there are people in Creation.
And so, when he came down the mountain, they were impressed. A rumor will start which becomes a news story which becomes a story which becomes a tale which, months, years from now, may become a legend.
There are billions of people in Creation, and many of them will remember that the Solar spent two days at the topmost point of Mount Meruvia- spent it praying, spent it meditating, spent it considering Tomoyo and Jack. Did not spend it lamenting the cold, did not spend it sleeping- just spent it preparing.
"I spent some time up there, talking at them," Ren will say, when he comes down. "Talking, thinking."
"Sol, Luna?" they'll ask. "Autochthon? All three?"
"No, sir," he'll reply, counting off their names on his fingers- and of those of the five dragons, and of the five maidens. "All thirteen."
And then... then, he disappears. He's sent a message out to his friends, to his closest comrades.
It's an excuse. It's a lie. He's lying to them, perhaps because he doesn't trust yet, perhaps because he understands something. Perhaps because even when the divines don't talk back to you, you can still gain a little enlightenment.
Or perhaps because the man who's wandered the face of the world for four hundred years has finally decided that it's time to devote absolutely everything he has into one singular purpose.
"It's time to me to make sure that everything will surely be alright."