Miranda glanced up habitually as they entered the garden once more. High above the large glass dome showed the clear pale blue of a sky, free of the dark storm clouds of the day before. "Do you hold all of your classes in here?" she inquired, trailing just behind Erika, occasionally stumbling over the folds of the kimono she wore as her hostess's quick yet unhurried pace made Erika seem to hover along the winding flat stone path. "Not always," the Gym Leader explained, turning her head towards an expansive bed of orange pedaled flowers with nearly black centers, inhaling deeply as she spoke, "but my apprentice finds that the serene beauty of the arboretum is more conductive to inspiration." "To be honest, I find tragedy to be the best inspiration," the courier replied, catching the scent of the flower's pollen in the air and smiling as it seemed to clear her mind. "You've found love to be an inspiration as well, though, haven't you?" Miranda glanced down at the large, black leather book in her arms and nodded slowly. "I'm not sure that I'd feel right about reading anything about 'him'," she muttered, shaking her head slowly, still not used to the feeling of her hair unbound and tangle free, "Well, anything romantic anyway." Erika nodded sagely as the sound of Samantha's voice carried across the grassy field to them from the large, light blue painted gazebo the poetry class was being taught in. "Then feel free to read us something that expresses your feelings about your breakup," the woman suggested in her usual all knowing tone, "venting can be fairly therapeutic after all. And anger can be as beautiful as laughter." "My dad always said my mom was more beautiful when she was angry," Miranda chuckled, "he said that if it wasn't for that they might not have gotten together." The sounds of different voices reached their ears as they near the class, the light that reflected off the coppery red of Samantha's hair making her stand out amongst the students. "I take it she didn't like him at first?" inquired Erika rhetorically. "My Mother's not the most trusting sort," the courier explained, standing a little taller and trying to catch Samantha's words, "and ironically enough my Mother was kinda suspicious of the couriers who were always in and out of the restaurant she worked in. It's a good thing my Father has that whole harmless thing going on." "Has?" inquired Erika, stopping and glancing over her shoulder at Miranda who had gritted her teeth, hugging the scarred cover of her poetry book to herself protectively. "Sorry," the girl muttered, giving her head a shake, "sometimes I forget he's gone." "You've gone through quite a bit in a short space of time, haven't you?" said Erika, turning to Miranda and moving to hold the courier, "more than anyone deserves to go through in one life time." "My mom's remarried and my favourite uncle ran out on my Aunt Laurna didn't help much either," the girl added, relaxing as Erika held her, leaning into the warm comfort of the embrace, "I dunno, maybe it's just another Lavender Town thing. People say we're all crazy for living there with all those ghosts, maybe their right. Maybe so many reminders of death in one place just attracts bad luck." Erika shook her head slowly. "No," she told Miranda, meeting and holding the courier's gaze for a moment, searching the stormy gray depths of her eyes, "even this place, with all its beauty and splendor is not without its misfortune. People make their own destinies, Miranda. Our fortunes are altered as much by the actions of people as they are by random chance. In of itself, a place is just a place. It's what we make of a place that alters what it is and what happens there." The courier nodded slowly, backing out of Erika's arms and opening the heavy covers of her hardbound book. "It's still hard to call it home, though," she replied after a moment, the dry pages of the book rustling as Miranda flipped backwards from the first completely blank page, "I don't even like to look at some of these sometimes, but I suppose I can't keep running away all the time." Erika smiled patiently nodding thoughtfully before glancing back at the gazebo. "It's really quite remarkable how many people eventually come here after running away from themselves for so long," the woman mused as Miranda cast the small assembled group a curious glance and caught Samantha's eye from across the field. "Like your apprentice?" the courier inquired, only to have the woman glide on towards their destination. "Whenever you're ready, deary," said Erika sagely, leaving Miranda to ponder a moment. 'I guess she really does respect privacy,' Miranda thought to herself, slamming the heavy book closed and pushing down the anxiety at having left her backpack on the bench. "I suppose I can trust them not to touch it," she muttered, glancing uncertainly over her shoulder before striding awkwardly after Erika...
Back to Rainbow Reminiscence Index - Back to Pokemon Shoujo-Ai Fanfiction