The Seasons of Gate

Spring
It was in the spring when they met for the first time. Like children, they stared face to face awkwardly. Each uneasy in the presences of the other, they had to be introduced by their parents. His name was Apple, pronounced in an odd way that only a linguist knowledgeable in history would be able to determine its root. Her name was Shihou, a very frank and obvious name descending from those of the former city of Shokun. It was in the foyer of this small, mouldy yet homely apartment that they met for the first time. They were told to play and get along with the other and were left to their own devices soon after. So they did. It was fun, pure and simple. Time passed too quickly for them. It was all too soon to end but end it did. Tearfully parting for the first time, silently, they swore to the other to treasure the memory to the end of their days. Perhaps, they would not see each other again, and not in the same manner. The fears were not unfounded as after all, spring was a season of change and the leaves had yet to unfold.

Summer
By chance in the summer, she was to meet him. Not to say that they never saw each other over such a period but this time was not just a fleeting glance or polite remark. She was coming back home from her daily work at a dojo. The style incidentally was what she was named after, the Shihou style of martial arts. But that was irrelevant right now. He also lived on the same floor, but he came back much earlier than she. Sitting against his apartment door, legs sprawled out, he was smiling. A surreal sight as his own life pooled around the area he sat. Crimson blossoms stained his lavender suit. So, she took him in. Only then, on his makeshift bed, did she realise how he had built himself. It went with his short dark hair and tiny moustache that poised itself over the edge of his upper lip. As he slept, he smiled. He came to in the next day as she kept vigil by his side. His normal blue eyes were dulled and his smile disappeared. Stepping to the day’s light from the window, he faded from her sight in to the cloudless summer sky.

Autumn
It was not until autumn did he see her again. Time had blessed him with a present that defied his past. Yes, he had a child, a child whose hair was as fiery as the mother’s. Today, he would finally leave the apartment for a new life. Across the river, beyond the shimmering towers, a calm, almost idyllic in a sense, and stable environment awaited. As he gazed in to foyer of the apartment, he was met with a scene with her at the centre fending of assailants. Behind her still, stood a child, a young girl that is. The fading sunlight dyed the shoulder-length locks a fair brown, like the lithe older woman who fought before him. Had he been younger, he would have impulsively drawn blood to save her but it was different this time. He had a charge to protect. Better still, she had no need for his help, bloodlessly dispatching the enemies without mercy. She was emitting warmth as she did this but as their gaze met once more like their first time, frost formed around her. Picking up the child behind her, she walked out in to the cool autumn dusk, never uttering a word.

Winter
The last time they met was outside in the winter, at a graveyard. Despite the snow that coated the markers of those who lived before them, they stood across from each other. The ones they held dear between them. Neither was at fault but neither could stand idly. In the end, he could not get past it, and she could not forgive. The words were honest and they were old enough to understand. His hair whitened as the snow fell, her hair remained the same. The honest words and intentions had been spoken and heard but it was not enough. She struck him. He fell back and the twilight of the many candles disappeared as he sunk in to biting frost. The sky was darkened, not only by the time of day as it was night, but also because of the overcast heavens. It closed in, the darkness closed in on him. She restrained from any further actions and turned away. Emerging from where he fell in to, she had long hung her head low. She didn’t cry, no, she couldn’t. So he cried in her stead. Once the last of the warmth left him as well, they parted forever.