Chapter Three

“I want to know…” Caska began suddenly, coming to a complete and abrupt halt. “I…” her voice was soft, so distant that Gatts couldn’t have heard her if he hadn’t stopped and turned toward her. “I want to know why I feel this way,” she finished, her voice coming out strong, stronger than Gatts had ever heard it. She looked up at him with defiance shining in her beautiful eyes; the same eyes Gatts had seen gaze upon a bloody battlefield without mercy.

Gatts couldn’t help the shocked expression that wound its way across his features. Had he not just been hoping secretly to see some shimmer of his old Caska in this woman? Had he not been hoping for a miracle, for Griffith to even hint at hurting the child or Caska so that he could kill the beast?

“Griffith… isn’t who he says he is,” Gatts murmured, unable to think of how to tell her. And should he tell her? After all, it was too much for a sane person to handle, knowing that their past is a complete lie. How would a broken young woman take the information? Why would she believe him, some dirty traveler who was as tall and ferocious looking as one could be? Missing one arm, replacing it with a fake one, armed to the teeth with ingenious weaponry, and as large as the trees around these parts… what woman in her right mind would believe him when he said they used to be together, planning out the future?

She laughed, something harsh and biting. There was an undercurrent in her voice, though, a slight trembling there. “I didn’t need a complete stranger to tell me that,” was her hissed reply, very deliberately scornful. She began walking again and Gatts, unnerved by her mood swing, only complied to follow her.

They walked in silence again, Caska’s eyes intently fixed on the hard ground beneath her soft leather boots. Gatts tried to think of what to say to her –he had never been good with women, had never needed to be, and especially not with Caska. They had spent years hating one another openly and internally wishing for the other one’s comfort. And now look where we are, Gatts thought wryly. Right back at the same damn place we were.

“We’ve met before, Cas…Erika,” Gutts murmured finally as the kiosks in the open-air market became more defined.

“You’ve called me Caska,” she murmured, voice softer than before. “Why? Do I look like this woman you’re searching for?”

You are the woman I’ve been searching for, Gatts thought to himself with such pain in his heart that he felt the urge to turn around and go after Griffith. No, Gatts, he told himself. Get close to Caska, make her remember you… “Yes,” he whispered softly. “You do.” And then you can worry about killing Griffith.

There was another spell of silence. The pair made it to the inn and Gatts rented a room. He turned to meet Caska’s gaze, only to find her staring at him hard, as if trying to remember something.

“You remind me of someone I used to know,” she said simply and turned away from him.

…

That night, Gatts found himself unable to sleep. He paced his tiny room, feeling more as if he stood in a cell than a room meant for comfort. He then sat in the corner, intent on sharpening his broadsword… but even then he was plagued with thoughts.

His Caska was truly alive.

Judeau would kick your ass if he knew you just let her slip away from you like this, a voice sneered in one corner of his brain. Well what do you expect me to do? The other side argued meekly. Go over there right now and challenge Griffith? Oh no… you don’t stand a chance challenging him… but maybe a poisoned arrow through the window- Cowardice! Do you have any better ideas on how to kill a God? “Shut up,” he growled, irritated. Both sides promptly slid into quiet submission. He stood with a fluid motion, unable to sit in the stifling room any longer. He threw on his cloak, feeling the coarse, unrefined wool slide over his remaining arm like a second skin.

He found his way back up the main road and out of the town, back to the simple, quaint cottage of Caska’s. The windows were opened to let in the cool night air. Gatts heard the sound of gentle breath coming from one room, a soft snoring from another. The second, on inspection, contained the small child. Gatts found a rare, unsuspecting smile on his face. The child must have worn himself out, playing in the yard the way he had.

“Normally I’d be worried when I found a man outside my house, staring in on my son,” a gentle voice said from behind him. Gatts turned. Caska stood wearing a white cloak over a pale crème nightgown. Slippers covered her feet, but they were stained with dew. She, too, seemed to have been up at an unearthly hour.

“And rightly so,” Gatts replied, his voice low and deep.

“So tell me why I’m not worried,” she murmured. She stepped closer, close enough that Gatts could see her dark doe eyes by moonlight yet too far to touch her. “Tell me why, when I saw you, for some reason I thought you were Gatts’ father come to check up on him.”

Her eyes were boiling pits of what looked to be anger melded with deep-lying confusion. She stared at him with that expression that was a ghost of who she used to be. Gatts wanted to speak, wanted to tell her of their past –of that one evening that they spent together, by the river, lying in one another’s arms. He wanted to remind her of their dreams. He wanted to make her remember how tenderly he had held her outside of the wagons before all hell broke loose in the form of an eclipse.

Instead he murmured, “Maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you something, Caska.”

She chucked softly, looking down at the damp dirt. “There you are, calling me Caska again…” she glanced up at him. “But I’m beginning to think that I…” she sighed and shook her head. “Come. Walk with me.”

She turned and, without waiting to see if he followed, began to walk away from the town and, more importantly, away from Griffith.

Gatts followed.

…

Author’s Note:

Here and now is the time in which every single one of you can throw as many curse words at me as possible. My last update was in February and I am finally getting around to updating. Urg. I need to be shot.

Here are some personal responses to you lovely reviewers (how many of you will come back to me after nearly a year? Who knows… hopefully all of you… I love you all!)

PERSONAL COMMENTS:

Methodic Madness: Wow, I will have a loooong comment for you. First of all, the entire mystery is “why isn’t Griffith at the palace?” It is true in this story, like in the anime, that he IS King. Yet he is currently at home with his wife and child… it makes you wonder, doesn’t it? I can’t really give too much away at this moment, so you will have to wait for the answer.

Secondly, thank you so much for clearing up the “Erika” mess. Now I feel ridiculous, what with having my Caska answer to the name Erika. I’m only on book 5 of the manga right now, so I am still unawares as to its progression. Thank you so much for making it clearer to me.

Bariyou: Thank you very much. I must also say that I am upset as to the lack of Berserk fics out here… and most of them are yaoi, I’ve found. Although I’m not a hater of the genre, I don’t spend my time reading it. And besides, Caska and Gatts are just toooo good of a tragic couple. :) Thanks for your comment.

Starbrat: Thank you.

Pissy Abyssinian: Urg, updates were actually delayed, so I must apologize. Hope you can find this fic again, lol.

Melitza: Hehehe… you might want to read Methodic Madness’ comment, actually. She describes the situation very well. Thanks for your support!

That’s all folks… but if someone is interested in becoming my beta for this story (you will also be in charge of flooding me with emails to make sure I update once a week, lol) PLEASE SAY SO IN YOUR COMMENT! I am in dire need of a beta for this story. :)

Love love,

Eternity