Chapter Text
Aviantei
By: Aviantei
Epilogue Two: Forever
“Happy birthday, Aviantei.”
While the Shaman King’s society defaulted to vast spread of white nothingness, it wasn’t as it was empty. It could, in time, start to take on characteristics of the one who inhabited it, though Hao had kept it bare over the past few years, save for the throne that he’d set up for himself early on. Even so, when it came to special occasions, he tended to make some exceptions, such as providing a small (and unnecessary) spread of food that could have been considered a banquet under some circumstances. Still, there was no talking him out of his more dramatic gestures, so Ivy let him do it and dipped her head in thanks.
“Thank you very much.”
Hao let out a faked sigh. “Still so formal after all this time. I’d thought we’d gotten past this.”
Though he wouldn’t age as a spirit, Hao had shifted his form to grow older as the time went on anyway, citing his previous lifetimes as the model. Ivy wasn’t about to complain, either, as age just made him look more handsome. His black-brown hair had gotten longer, and it spilled in waves over the bright red-orange of his single-layer kimono, patterns of leaves, flowers, and butterflies decorating the hems of his sleeves and casting the image of nature over his folded legs.
“I just figured that I’d give a response that fits the level of ceremony you put into this,” Ivy said. As she sat up straight again, the faint waves at the end of her ponytail tickled against the back of her neck. She hadn’t altered her body’s appearance from her living form, but she’d once donned her soul in a light green attire similar to Hao’s as a joke, and it’d stuck with her since. Abandoning any sense of formality, she smiled. “You’re the one who helped me start to appreciate my birthdays again.” Even now, eight years later, she still wore the necklace he’d gotten for her back then, the faint flash of silver visible in its rightful place beneath her collarbone. Ivy gestured to the filled-up table before her. “So, if you’re going to do this, I should at least acknowledge that, yes?”
“You say that like you know this doesn’t take any more effort than breathing.” Ivy bobbed her head, and Hao began to smile as well. “If it makes you feel better, I was planning on having more guests than just you for this. I just figured that I’d take a little bit of your time for myself first. Do you have any complaints about that?”
Ivy shook her head. As much as she treasured getting to see her parents when she let her soul slip away towards the Great Spirit, the point of doing so was to see Hao more after all—even if Asanoha, Ohachiyo, and Matamune were excellent sources of information on learning more about his first life from less than biased sources. “My, my, Ovanteo, are you telling me there’s something you wanted to do that wouldn’t be appropriate in front of our parents?”
Hao may have been able to maintain his smirk well, but there was still a faint dusting of pink forming on his cheeks. Ivy grinned at the victory. “Goodness, you’ve grown cheeky as you’ve gotten older. If you’re not careful, you’re going to say something that’s going to start giving me ideas.”
“I’m not a little kid anymore. I’m allowed to be open about what I want.” She might not have been ready to go to that extent quite yet, but it wouldn’t be much longer until she was. Half the point in waiting all this time had been so she was in a more mature state of mind to make her decisions—though maybe that was still paltry in comparison to Hao’s entire existence.
“Is that so?” Though he looked pleased by the sentiment, Hao didn’t push it any further, though he was sitting rather close to her. “If that’s the case, then you shouldn’t have any problem declaring yourself to Ren and Lyserg, hm?”
Ivy choked on nothing, and she was so thrown off by the casual question that it was difficult to restabilize her soul. Hao, serene as ever, watched as she coughed herself back to being able to speak. “What are you implying?”
“That as fun as it is to watch you three pine over each other from a distance, it gets old after a couple of years.” Ivy glared, and Hao turned towards his banquet to start serving himself some soup. “Now, now, don’t give me that look, Aviantei. I don’t need to be able to read minds to tell that much, even if I am just checking in with you on occasion.”
“I am so done with you.”
“I do ever hope not. We’ve just passed our first decade together. If you want to change your mind, I understand, but you did pledge your soul to me back then, and you still have plenty of time before that promise is up.”
Ivy let herself stew for a few moments, knowing full well that getting worked up would just make it easier for Hao to tease her, and she accepted the plate that Hao had filled up for her as they’d talked. “You seriously don’t think I’m going to just back out of that promise after all this time?” It wasn’t even the impact of the elemental language binding her; that could be broken if necessary, though with some consequences. With all the time they’d spent together in the years since the Shaman Fight, Ivy had decided to stick to the words she’d declared, because she at last felt confident enough to call the feelings inside her love. If Hao didn’t see that, she’d have to correct him.
“I know better than to even consider something like that,” Hao said, taking a sip from his soup bowl, “but I also want happiness for you. And I think that those two could be part of that.” The fact that he wasn’t wrong made Ivy squirm in her seat. Lyserg and Ren had provided every bit of support that they’d said they would, helping both Ivy herself and with taking care of Opacho—and she’d helped support them as well, whenever the past wouldn’t let them go. Though she understood it was natural to care for multiple people throughout one’s life, something about it felt the slightest bit like cheating. “To be clear, this isn’t just me giving you all permission to do whatever you want.”
Too embarrassed to look him in the eye just yet, Ivy glanced at him through her bangs. “Then what is this?”
“For starters, they need to understand that I don’t intend to let you go, no matter how your relationship with them progresses. I don’t expect either of them to harbor feelings for me, but they at least need to accept that much, whether it’s one or the other or both. But so long as they understand and nothing changes between me and you, then it’s fine.” Hao gave Ivy one of those unfair smiles that he knew twisted her stomach into infinite knots. “You wouldn’t be my first wife, Aviantei. It seems unreasonable to make you miss out on the same experience, after all.”
“Charming,” she managed to say instead of choking. “Do tell me, when did the idea of dating other people turn into getting married?”
“I’m just accounting for the possibilities, that’s all.” Abandoning all cutlery, Hao took Ivy’s hand in his. “I do want you to be happy, Aviantei, and I’m honored that you want to spend your existence with me. But if all goes well, it’s going to be some years before you can be here all the time, and I want you to have that joy of living with someone else, sharing your love, creating a family. And seeing as I’m stuck with some rather important obligations for the next few centuries, I wanted to give you my blessing so you aren’t guilty for what you feel.”
Ivy thought it over, already trying to run simulations in her mind, though they’d be useless. Hao waited for her to collect her thoughts. As much as she tried, she couldn’t deny that Ren and Lyserg were just as important to her as Hao was. While it wasn’t her decision alone to make, she could at least act true to her heart. “If you’re wrong and they reject me, I hope you’re ready to console me.”
Hao breathed out a laugh before dropping a kiss into her hair. “I doubt that will happen, but know I accept the duty nonetheless.” Ivy let herself lean against his side, her head falling on Hao’s shoulder, the familiar scent of burning wood calming her worked up nerves. “I must clarify, though. You may not be my first, but you will be the first wife I’ve loved.”
“It’s about time you learned how to share your real feelings,” Ivy said, glad that her position made it harder to hide the next wave of color flooding her face.
“As you said, I have had the time to practice, after all.”
Ivy hummed, squeezing Hao’s hand one more time. “I love you, too, you know.”
And then, together, each of their quiet voices overlapping enough to give the word a proper shape:
“Forever.”