Be thankful for the good times
Hang onto even the bad
‘Cause when it’s done and over
They’re the best you’ve ever had

THOSE WHO WILL REMEMBER
hang on for just a little while longer

She was such a sensitive creature.

As an elf, she was the Elder of all elves; a woman of reverence and unparalleled power. A single incantation could banish you to the very depths of hell—a single touch could bring you never-ending peace. It was in those times when, with the winds guiding her wayward tongue and the Heavens opening their arms to embrace her, they forgot that this was the same Celcia that had protected them time and time again from harm. That this was the same Priestess that had a unique bond with nature—a heart bigger than any could ever imagine. A woman that could hold her people on such strong and petite shoulders.

As an elf, they noticed that Junpei argued with her less. Any conversation they had was bound to be heated, but not as bad as when her form would shift into that of an animal. Junpei was just a tad more hesitant to pull at the elf’s cheeks, or yank on her ears in childish aggravation; he had no such qualms when she’d been stuck as a puppy, and even less so when she was a panda.

Then, in elfin form, she’d jump on his back and he’d throw such qualms out of the proverbial window.

It didn’t change the fact that Airi knew, of course. Even little Ritsuko knew. Perhaps, somewhere is his simple brain, Junpei may have known as well—but Celcia did a good job of hiding it from him at all costs, so it was possible he had not a clue. As usual. But it was moments like this that gave it away. Moments where, in spite of everything else, emphasized . . . something that was going on under the surface every time those two started clawing at each other’s gullets. An undercurrent that neither could pinpoint.

Breathing deeply and in time with the face buried in her furry belly, the panda-mized Celcia Marie Claire—High Priestess and Eldest Elfin Ruler—slept like a baby against the T-74 named Mihke. Junpei snored a little, unknowingly nuzzling into the panda’s stomach every so often for what they could only assume was for warmth.

After everything was said and done, this is what it all came down to. Fighting, laughing, crying—all of it, and in the end, they would all lay sleeping in silent acceptance of a fate none had asked for. The many times Celcia would sleep after a hard day when no one else could—tanks could never compare to a mattress, no matter how fond they were of Mihke—proved that it took all the elfin ruler had just to struggle through the daylight hours.

She was so frail and strong.

It was cute. Seeing the two cooperating on some level was always a relief—but this was such a bittersweet moment. This . . . while it could be beautiful if given time and room to grow . . . this was a disaster. On a journey to retrieve all of the spell fragments, it was only a matter of time before they were all found and Celcia could—once again—recite the spell to send them home. And Junpei may actually learn his lesson and not harass Celcia during such a critical moment this time.

There was no time for—dare she say it?—love on this journey.

But what could she do? As an actress, Airi was good at reading between the lines—gleaning more from a single glance than most could ever decipher. Since day one, she saw it forming and at first, she didn’t really think it could hurt . . . oh, but was she ever wrong. She cared for these people now, and she realized that her not interfering with a potentially dangerous situation was liable to hurt more than just herself in this. When the spell was completed, they may never—nigh, would never—see the blonde, headstrong elf ever again.

There were a million stars in the sky. Airi observed each one in silence. I can barely imagine it. She remembered her life before Celcia’s blotched spell. Months after, Airi found that she couldn’t imagine her life without them. Where would she be without the gullible Junpei, or the gun-savvy Ri-chan? Mihke? Pichi? Once they returned to Earth—their Earth—she could keep in contact with the others . . . but she would have to say goodbye to Celcia forever.

Forever. . .

Again, Airi marveled at the elf. No matter how much they went through, she was always standing with her head held high; always belying the fragility her iron will would hide. Airi envied her, just a little. I was someone back home. And if they went back today, she’d still be somebody—but Celcia had a presence that, though Airi could command one herself, would grip you tight and never let go.

And Airi realized, in startlingly clarity, that she could never say goodbye.

“Mmmrmmmrrrr . . . I said no . . . oaf . . . mrrmm ass. . .” came the sleepy rambling from the little panda.

“Oh yeah . . . curry . . . damn elf . . . strip (snort) search . . . bean curry mmmmrmm,” was the reply from the martial-artist lying atop her. Airi suppressed a giggle at their expense and shook her head.

I’ll just enjoy whatever time I have with them. And when Celcia woke up to Junpei gnawing on one of her furry ears—having switched her role from pillow to chew-toy teddy in his restless sleep—Airi would add it to her collection of fond memories. Another photo for her album of stars.

LE FIN