"You're lucky, you know."
The boy, startled, turns. "Huh?"
"You're very lucky."
He gazes in wonder for a moment, before shaking his head. "I don't see how." He turns back to the railing, staring down into the night. The next few minutes pass in silence as he thinks, until the tepid breeze makes the weather-vane shift and creak; then he thinks of the here and now. His plans for the night spoiled, he walks back through the open door, pauses, then returns to the balcony for a moment to look for the girl on the rooftop, but she's not there anymore, so he shakes his head and makes his way to his room.

The next few weeks are not so bad, but by the end of September there is Trouble again and he finds himself again gazing down upon the courtyard from the balcony and, again, is interrupted. "Really. I mean it."
He stares in disbelief, as he had checked for her sitting there when he came out; she continues after a pause. "Words cannot express the felicity which is yours. You lucky schmuck."
"And you're not?"
She tenses. "No."
He snorts briefly. "You don't have any idea -"
"You'd be surprised."
He shivers a moment as the breeze assails him, then turns to the girl and wonders aloud. "Aren't you cold up here?"
She shrugs, looks down for a moment, and frowns. "Oh, goodness, I've forgotten my shoes again."
"Are you real?"
She considers half a moment. "As much any shadow in the cave."
He stares at his foot, scraping his shoe along the floor of the balcony a short distance. "I do not much care, for Philosophy," he drones.
"'Tis a noble pursuit!" she exclaims, standing up quickly - "but yes, yes, your dear Dr. Chandler does render it so very dull."
"Mmph." Then he becomes concerned. "You should be careful on the roof. You could fall off."
"Ha!" she exclaims; "you are one to talk, no?"
He cannot respond to this, so there is a long quiet. Eventually he heads back to the door again, pauses, looks back out.
"Yes, I'm still here."
He hears, nods, turns back. (She's lying.)


In the middle of the next week there is a party in the dormitory, and he flees to the high place again - this time only for a few moments' respite from the noise. Well - also to look around and see if she's there again (she is not). For a moment he stands again at the railing, stares down, waits a while. Nothing happens. Disappointed, he returns downstairs, negotiates a small crowd, and heads over to the cooler, where he is startled to spy her sipping away at a can of Sprite.
"Come now. I can't make it *that* easy."
He considers that for a moment, shrugs, and digs around a bit in the ice before extracting a can of some generic brown sludge juice.
"The caffeine will make it worse."
"Hmm?"
"Going to sleep with the noise."
"You're probably right." He usually considers the effects of such things too late. "Where'd you find that one?"
"Brought it."
"Brought?"
"You would prefer me to have conjured it out of thin air on the spot?"
An errant beer-pong ball rolls its way over. He kicks it away, annoyed, watches it roll to the other side of the room.
"If you can't stand parties, you should go."
He looks to the girl, dismayed.
"I mean, I'm certainly going to," she explains.
He inhales. "Where?"
"Dreamland, mayhaps."
"Will I see you there?"
She pauses, in the doorway, to shrug.


He does not meet her in dreamland - neither that night, nor any of the following ones, though he tries for the next two weeks. This is a matter of some annoyance. Indeed, there are many places she isn't, besides the obvious ones you'd think of, like the rooftops. For instance, she is not in the microfridge (she would have never fit in there anyway, he thinks to himself, as he places a six-pack of Sprite inside).
"Not if I have to compete with your soda, anyway."
He looks to his left and notices that she is wearing shoes this time (last time he forgot to check) before gazing up from his crouching position.
"What's your name?"
"Pick one."
"What? Okay." He pauses in thought. "Occasionally."
"Why, how polysyllabic of you, sir. Adverbial, too."
"You could take out just the 'Casi' to be short."
"Ehhh." She squirms a bit. "I guess the long form fits. Fine then. You can be Constance."
"What? That's like ... I don't know... some obscure saint or something I think. I don't even know if it's a guy."
"You could take out just the 'Stan' to be short."
"Stan?" He shakes his head. "Stan? Ick. Did I even ask for you to come up with something?"
"You were about to. I could just pull a Wendy and call you Boy. Boy, why are you crying?"
"I'll take that over Stan. Don't you know my real name or something?"
"Real?" She pauses at the word. "Shadow, then."
"I'll take that over Stan too. Sounds like a dog, though."
"Could be a cat too."
"Can I change my mind?"
"NEVER!" she exclaims in an outburst, gesticulating wildly. Then, "Of course you can, silly."
"Ocarina."
"WHAT? An OCARINA?" she exclaims again. Then - "Come! Come along! Come hither! I am going to show you something."

From the laundry room of the adjoining hall there is a door (which is somehow opened) leading to a tunnel. There are pipes running through it, which are ducked under and stepped over at intersections and turns. At the end of it, another door, another building, and a spiral stair; a subtle glow of color from the windows. Here, after a little motion, she produces a few clicks, a small light, and then a sound which fills the world.





"Three thousand, six hundred and ninety-six pipes."
He nods, quietly.
"Eighty-four stops. Twenty-five tons?"
He shakes his head. "I knew they had an organ up here, but... I'm not Methodist."
"You could have come to a concert. They have them every so often. You can get in for free."
He chuckles at himself.
"Ocarina indeed."
"I still like it."
She throws up her hands and leans back. "And they say that *women* are crazy!"



Some time elapses, filled with sound, but then she stops, leans back, holds a hand to her ear, frowns. "We should go."
"Why? Is someone coming?"
She nods, switching off the organ and its light.
He smiles in the dark. "Can't you just magick us away somehow, or anything like that?"
"Magick us away? That wouldn't be very ambiguous of me, now, would it?"
"Oh, is /that/ what you were going for? I hadn't noticed."
She opens her mouth in astonishment. "You are teasing me! Okay." She notes his chuckle. "Okay, Mr. Shadow, is that what you want?" She takes his hand, a mischevious grin beaming wide across her face. "Come then!"



It is nothing at all like he is expecting.
It is pain and emptiness.
There is a flash of nothingness, an eternity over in but an instant, and then it is cold and he opens his eyes and blinks in a misty drizzle and sits up slowly, aching.
"Ocarina?"
He turns his head, and she is a little ways away, hunched over, hugging her knees and swaying gently, staring out into nothing.
"Are you okay?"
He scoots himself over, but she holds up a hand as he approaches.
"You'd do better to stay away," she croaks.
"Why?"
"Safer. In fact, you'd best run. Only we're not on the ground, so don't."
"I can tell."
She rocks a little more. "I am terrible. Go away."
"No you aren't."
He starts to reach out a hand, but she interrupts. "I took it."
"What?"
"It was glowing and beautiful and just so innocent and open there and I took it away and it didn't even fight."
"Took what?"
"Your soul."
He narrows his brow, and looks down at himself, inspecting.
"But I put it back."
"That's... good..."
"I ran around and had my fun in the sunshine... but I had to put it back."
He gazes at her curiously. "Why?"
"Because. Because it was so sweet and selfless that I *wanted* to put it back. The good one, treasure of a thousand lifetimes, stolen away and it was mine, and I ... put it back. And now I want it again, and I might fight it better next time, and I don't want to."
Her tears mix with the rain, and she inhales, sniffling, as she shivers.
"Oh."

Neither of them move or speak, until a chime sounds in the distance.
"It's getting light now. I will have to go."
He turns to look at her better.
"Morning."
He nods, unspeaking.
She shakes her head again. "Part of you is wanting to give all it to me anyway."
He nods again.
"That's why I had to give it back, see?"
"But-"
She fades, and the one called Shadow is alone on the roof - without any idea of how to get down from this one. He stands, cautiously, numbly... then looks down, and chuckles.
She'd left her shoes.

A few hours later, and some thirteen months later, it wasn't quite as funny.
(Not quite).

She enters, soundless and somber, but he catches her out of he corner of his eye, smiles, turns and rises from his chair. "Why hello there, little goose."
She attempts to stifle a chuckle, fails; her mope is broken.
"That's what it means, you know-"
"I know."
They embrace. "Hello."
"Hi. How are you?"
"I am... well."
"Well?" She glances about the room. "Just 'well'? Que es esse?" She gestures over.
"That, Ocarina, is a harp."
She plucks a few strings experimentally.
"It reminded me of you."
"A harp - " she breaks out into laughter - "reminds you of an ocarina that plays pipe organ?"
"Yeah. What of it?"
"I like it. I like it a lot."
He opens a drawer, and extracts a shoebox. "You left these."
"I know."
"On my feet."
"Yes."
"Size... four?"
Her head bobs up and down.
"Did you want them back?"
"Ehhhhh." She shrugs.
He stares down. "You are having too much fun with my poor little toes."
"Hey; they got you off that roof, didn't they?"
"True." He gazes up again.
"Count your blessings. Could have been worse." She grins. "Pointy ears would be harder to hide, for instance."
He shakes his head, and smiles. "You absolute rascal."
She nods to this, and stretches out on the rug, gazing at the instrument. "Won't you play?"



When it is over, she sighs, and smiles. "I leave my shoes and you go straight about filling them, eh?"
"Oh, yes."
"I've changed my mind," she declares.
"Awhaa?"
"Shadow's no good. You shall be Echo."
"Gyaaaaah. Now I'm named after a nymph!!"
"Yeah."
"I'm afraid I don't quite look the part." He glances down at her sparkling eyes. "Not that that's a complaint!" he amends, hastily.
She rolls over and laughs.

They talk a while.
"You seem much more... composed, now, Echo."
He nods. "Thank you."
"Comfortable. Oh, you know what I mean. You're haven't been staring down over the edge of balconies recently, anyway."
"I was thinking about that, actually. About earlier, at least."
She tenses, examines him, and her eyes go wide. "You shouldn't dare. I've told you before. Warned you before."
He nods. "So you have."
"You still don't know what you'd be getting yourself into. You haven't more than a fraction of a clue."
"I know that."
"And you're so much more You now."
"But -" he pauses for a few moments. "All of what I've done since then... I've been doing for you, anyway."
Ocarina wept.


Some of it was like he had expected.
Some of it was not,
and there were tears
and pain
and troubles,
hope and despair...
and they were happy.

Fennec! I love this so far. You gave me just enough to make me want to keep reading, but then you stopped abruptly. ;_;

Update: some minor edits before marker 1, and everything between 1 and 2 - clarifications and elimination of redundancy and such.

Hmm, I shall have to be sure I can see this as it updates.

Great job, Fennec. I love the updated version with the rest added to it. =) It's coming along nicely.

It's good, but I'm getting lost a bit easily in all of the dialog. You state that time progresses on, it may be better if you state what is going on while they are talking as well. That way you can show time progressing in a more interesting manner.

I like where this is going. The elements of confusion created by the dialogue are what makes this so intriguing. And the dialogue seems to become more in depth while the narration becomes more terse and unnecessary. I'm not sure if that's intentional or not, but the effect it creates is great. It's like we're becoming more and more of an uninformed fly on the wall forced to generate our own meaning - good stuff.

Finished (at least draft-like). Some clarifications before she starts the music. In-progress markers are gone. Title poke.

I have to say, some of the dialouge is confusing in the way of which is saying what...

Other than that, I love it. So much room for interpretation.

As Kou said, I think the dialogue is meant to be like that. I love it.

Awesome story, Fennec. As miyumi said, I love the room that is left for interpretation.

Wow. Nice. Very intense. I like the ambiguity. All of the confusion is gone, as far as I can see. I found it very fluid and straight-forward in its progress. I have it all imagined in my head.

I love this!
It's wonderful.
I wish I could write half as good as you.
I can't write at all.
Only poetry.

Very interesting.

No complaints here.