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"Honestly, Noé! I can’t believe that you can be so enthusiastic about snow..."
"But it's just beautiful! Look!" Noé released one of his hands from the cool window pane and waved Vanitas over to him, standing behind him with his arms folded.
"I know what snow looks like. And I also know that since Gévaudan I've been sick of it for the rest of my life."
"But this is different! Paris in the snow is just wonderful and that it snows today of all days at Christmas...!"
All at once Vanitas began to laugh.
"What's so funny?" Noé's gaze broke away from the swirling flakes. Astonished, he looked at Vanitas.
"You're really interesting. That a vampire would care so much about Christmas...A feast day of the church. Is there even such a thing? That's just too funny." Vanitas laughed.
"My Teacher used to celebrate Christmas with us," Noé explained with a radiant smile. The memory of the sparkling tree decorations, the smell of fir branches, hot chocolate made his cheeks glow.
"Oh really?", Vanitas tilted his head, crossed his arms and eyed Noé. He looked so skeptical...didn't he believe him?
"Yes! Every year he brought a Christmas tree and decorated it! We baked cookies and there were candles lit everywhere and in the evening there were presents and-" Noé faltered when he saw Vanitas' face. His look seemed suddenly disinterested, annoyed...but there was a strange sadness swimming in his eyes. Yet just a moment ago he had been laughing. Noé wondered why? Had he said something wrong?
"I'd love to keep listening, but I don't have time," Vanitas stated indifferently.
"No time? What's wrong?"
In reply, Vanitas took an envelope from the table and held it up. "This letter arrived this morning while you were still asleep. It’s from a potential patient who contacted me. They live a little outside Paris. I've got to catch a train right away. I will probably be back around five in the afternoon." Saying those words, Vanitas took his coat from the chair and threw it over himself. The black fabric billowed. He would leave now just like that...?
"I'm coming with you!" Noé declared. But Vanitas waved him off.
"No need. I'll be fine." With these words he let the letter slide into the pocket of his coat.
"But what if something happens? If your patient loses control and..." Noé didn't dare speak any further.
Vanitas laughed mirthlessly. "This isn't the first time I've done this on my own. The bigger problems, besides the curse bearers when they lost control, were the vampires who didn't believe me and tried to kill me. At least the patient here believes me. And I know how to deal with curse bearers. So no problem."
Though he sounded so indifferent Noé sensed the bitterness and loneliness that lay in those words.
"I want to come with you, though," Noé repeated.
"Weren't you going to enjoy Paris in the snow and have a nice day or something? Isn't that what you said? “
Yes, he had intended to do that. Actually, he had even wanted to walk alone through downtown Paris for today.
Preferably without Vanitas knowing. For a very special reason. Besides, he only had that one day left.
Actually, this was the perfect and basically the only opportunity to put his plan into action. However...
"That doesn’t matter! Besides, it's no fun alone!", Noé heard himself say anyway.
Vanitas' eyes narrowed. He sighed, "You're really...you wanted to go into town by yourself! So stop discussing. You're gonna make me miss my train!" he snapped, "Listen! You will go where you want to go and I will go where I want to go. You let me go alone, and I'll meet you at the park opposite the hotel on five o'clock. I'll see you at the front gate. There. Satisfied?" Noé bit his lip. It felt wrong to let Vanitas go alone. What if something happened? What if he took too big a risk and something went horribly wrong? But Vanitas knew what he was doing.
Vanitas had managed on his own for such a long time. He could handle it. Nothing would happen. Certainly.
They would meet in the park that afternoon. There was a 'later'.
Noé looked deep into his eyes.
"Promise me you'll come back," he said sternly. Promise me you won't die.
"Don't start with that," Vanitas sighed. Sometimes it was as if Vanitas dissolved into mist before his eyes when he tried to grab and hold of him. As if his entire existence was something terribly fleeting.
"Promise it." If he stayed now and Vanitas didn't come back, he'd never forgive himself.
"Yeah, yeah, it's okay, I promise. I'll see you later. “
With a wave and billowing cloak, Vanitas was gone through the door.
Noé settled on the edge of the bed and stared into space. Murr slept curled up at the foot of the bed. Noé scratched the thick, white fur, listened to the purring and felt the vibration under his fingers. Actually, he had wanted to be on his way right directly; after all, he only had time until five o'clock. But it was as if Vanitas' gaze was still hovering in the room. Had Vanitas just been annoyed at his enthusiasm?
But somehow he had seemed so sad when Noé had told him about his Christmas memories...Had he been insensitive?
He had gotten caught up in the joy his memories had triggered. In the end, he had shown Vanitas what he didn't have, perhaps had never had...Surely it had been a long, long time since he had celebrated Christmas.
That someone had given him a gift.
But Noé would change that today. With renewed determination, he stood up, grabbed his gloves, coat and top hat.
His determination, however, was slowed by one crucial question. A question he couldn't find an answer to for days, though he racked his brain: what should he even give Vanitas?
The white cobblestones were covered with a layer of packed snow.
Silently, the snowflakes swirled through the air. At the edge of the shopping street, at the doors of the shops, small Christmas trees were set up, wrapped in twinkling fairy lights. The smell wafted over to him.
Noé stopped at the window of a bakery and stared inside. Warm light shone towards him.
The smell of gingerbread seemed to waft through the window. Noé's gaze fell on the cakes laid out, decorated with colorful sprinkles, icing, or covered in chocolate. Thick, white sugar writing reminded one of ruffles on a dress or the ornate facades of houses. How beautiful!
But no, he had to pull himself together.
This wasn't about him, and Vanitas didn't like sweets.
Besides, he wanted to give him something that would last and not disappear within minutes.
Nevertheless, Noé tore himself away with difficulty from the elaborate pastries, and continued on his way.
Even on Christmas Eve, the streets of Paris were bustling with activity. All kinds of people pushed past him or came towards him.
Men in black coats and scarves. Women with thick capes, their hands hidden from the cold in fluffy muffs.
Chains of golden twinkling lights flowed down the castle-white facades. As if stars were threaded and just as close as the façade of the buildings. Noé followed the pathway of the street until the marketplace opened up in front of him.
In the center, a massive Christmas tree stretched up into the air. Deep red, shiny balls dangled from the thick branches.
The twinkling strings of lights made the snow-covered needles sparkle. The tinsel glittered in all colors. Noé's heart beat loudly. His stomach tingled warmly, despite the cold that lay on his cheeks. His mouth opened and he smiled widely.
So that was Paris on Christmas Eve!
Only the chiming bell of the tower clock pulled Noé out of his thoughts. Noé looked up at the dial. Snowflakes caught his eyes.
He blinked until he recognized the watch hands. It was already four o'clock. That meant he'd been walking for two hours already. Two hours that had felt like nothing. And only had one hour left.
An hour that would also feel like nothing.
His success until now, barring a few unforgettable impressions of Paris at Christmas...was nonexistent.
What could he give Vanitas?
What only? Noé put his hands in the pockets of his white coat and strolled past the shop windows, from which warm, inviting light streamed.
Windowpane after windowpane glided past him and he felt, as if looking into a different world each time. One world consisted only of building blocks, rocking horses, dolls, spinning tops and small toy locomotives.
No, Vanitas would either laugh at him or look at him funny if he gave him something like that.
Another world was just puffy fabric, tulle, ruffles and flowing clothes.
No, he didn't even know Vanitas' dress size.
Another was a world of tanned leather, purses and bags.
No, not really the right present either, though this time he couldn't even think of a reason.
Noé stopped in front of a world that consisted only of glittering silver and gold.
Sparkling, colorful gems hung from delicate, silver threads.
A jewelry store. He had bought Domi's Christmas present in a similar shop...a few days ago already. Actually, he had wanted to buy Vanitas' gift at that time as well. But he just hadn't thought of anything.
Besides, it was easier to buy something for Domi. She was a longtime friend, after all. He knew what she liked. To others, Domi might have seemed demanding. In fact, she handled the gifts of others with as much reservation and distance as befitted someone from the House of de Sade. Yet she was beside herself from happiness every time Noé gave her something for Christmas. Her eyes sparkled, her cheeks reddened, and her voice suddenly sounded higher in excitement.
He wanted to give Vanitas a present that made him feel like that, too. But no matter how many times he played out the scenario in his head, his imaginary Vanitas would only give him a 'what-the-hell-is-this-and-what-am-I-supposed-to-do-with-it'-look. But that was probably how he would react to even the best possible gift while trying to hide his excitement. Noé smirked at the thought. As he did so, he let his gaze slide along the trinkets until he saw some earrings.
Vanitas always wore his single hourglass-like earring. Maybe he would appreciate a new one.
On the other hand...Vanitas had never talked about it, but somehow the earring seemed important to him. Surely it meant something to him, even if Noé couldn't grasp that 'something'.
If there was a meaning behind it, it might not be right to want to replace the earring just like that, right?
Maybe Vanitas didn't care about gifts at all. Maybe it wouldn’t mean anything to him. Maybe he didn't want anything. But even if he didn't want anything and it had no meaning for him, Noé wanted to show him that there was someone who gave him gifts.
Someone who thought about him. Who cared about him.
Although, again, maybe Vanitas didn't care about that either....
Noé sighed. If only he could ask his Teacher – he would surely know an answer. His Teacher had always had such good ideas....
"Here, for you, mon chaton."
Noé still remembered the small bundle of fluffy, snow-white fur that his Teacher had suddenly carried into the Christmas decorated room. Gently he handed him the softly meowing kitten. Noé's small hands clasped the even smaller body. He could feel the little creature's breath and heartbeat. The kitten was soft and warm. His fingers sank into the plush, thick fur. He couldn't stop smiling and couldn't get a word out for joy.
"How cute!" exclaimed Domi in his place, even looking up from her little automaton which the Teacher had given her and which was incessantly spitting petals into the air.
"Th-thank you!" stammered Noé, addressing his Teacher.
The latter only smiled gently, the top hat pushed so deep into his face that Noé did not see his eyes. But certainly his eyes smiled with him.
"It sure looks grim, is he okay?," Domi said worriedly as she stepped closer to Noé.
"True...But I'm sure it doesn't mean it," Noé replied, smiling, "I'm sure its heart is as soft as its fur."
"That's a Persian cat," explained his Teacher, "They look like that by nature. I have been assured that he is quite a dear and the right playmate for Noé. It's a tomcat, by the way. “
"I love him already!" exclaimed Noé, lifting the kitten. "Oh, he has two different colours of eyes; look, too, Louis! Look how cute he is! Come on!"
"No need. I can see it from here." Louis was crouched on the burgundy wing chair in front of the fireplace with his knees drawn up, not even taking his eyes off his book, which the Teacher had given him.
The kitten wriggled in Noé's hands until he could hold it no longer.
It landed with its paws on the carpet. It ran straight towards Domi's automaton, leapt into the air and tried to catch the petals. Laughing, Domi and Noé squatted on the soft carpet, watching as the kitten fished for the petals with its front paws, wagging its bushy tail and jumping playfully in the air. "Have you any ideas for a name yet?" Noé heard his Teacher's voice behind him. "Murr!" it blurted out Noé, "After the cat in the book you read to us the other day!"
He hadn't even had to think, the name just came over him.
A few weeks ago the Teacher had brought them a book called "The Life and Opinions of the Tomcat Murr together with a fragmentary Biography of Kapellmeister Johannes Kreisler on Random Sheets of Waste Paper" and read it to them.
Noé thought the title alone was far too long and he had recited it dozen of times so he could remember it completely. Not to mention the length of the book. Beyond that, he had hardly understood anything.
His Teacher said it was all right, the book was not easy understandable for children after all. But he still wanted to introduce them to literature.
Noé understood very little of the content. But despite this, or perhaps because of it, he was fascinated by all the new words. The intricate sentences captivated him.
And he noticed how he understood more and more the longer he studied the book and listened carefully to his Teacher’s explanations. He liked it. The thrilling feeling of slowly understanding more and more of what he previously thought he would never grasp.
In particular, he liked the idea of a cat writing its biography. One day he also wanted to write down his memories, when something so significant happened in his life that it was worth writing about.
His last name was Archiviste, after all - it came from the word ' to archive', his Teacher had explained.
As far as Noé knew, that meant collecting, preserving.
He was going to exactly that. Eventually. But now he wanted to play together with Domi and Louis, preferably forever.
"If you call the kitty Murr, I'll call the automaton Kreisler," Domi explained, patting the device, which was now named after the book's second protagonist and Murr's owner.
"That's great! Then the names do go together." Noé beamed.
"Exactly!", Domi smiled. The parlor was lit by the warm, crackling fire of the fireplace and the candles of the Christmas tree.
The silver tinsel shimmered golden in the light of the fireplace.
Noé and Domi played with Murr all evening, while Louis devoted himself to his book. His bored look left no doubt that he deemed all the proceedings in the room as childish and silly.
"Play with us, Louis." Finally, Noé and Domi grabbed Louis by the arms and, regardless of his protests, pulled him from the wing chair to join them on the carpet. Louis was playing with them. That meant he was still just watching most of the time. But at least he was no longer reading, but looking at them. He was among of them. At one point he even cuddled Murr, who was curled up tired from playing under the Christmas tree. And smiled.
Louis could smile so gently, but behind that smile opened an abyss of great loneliness.
If only things had stayed the same as they were that Christmas Eve....
If there was anything he could have done....
All at once, the gently falling snow felt quite cold.
Noé's cheeks stung. Even his reflection, pale in the shop window, seemed terribly distant.
Even more distant was that day when he, Dominique, and Louis played together in the Christmas-decorated parlor.
And all that remained of the warm embraces of the older couple who had taken him in was a fleeting breath of memory. Their soft voices. The crackle of wood in the fireplace and the sweet smell of Christmas cookies.
How he had sat on his grandmother's lap while she read him Christmas stories.
The smell of wax and smoke from the candles.
The Christmas tree with the thin branches and the few baubles and that was still beautiful.
Noé loved to decorate him and when he couldn't reach the higher branches, his grandfather would lift him up.
"Great job," he said when Noé managed to put the straw star on top.
All this was so far away. Yet Noé saw all this as clearly before him as his reflection. A thick lump formed in his throat.
He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts.
It would not be like it used to be. But today would also be a wonderful Christmas.
If only he could find a suitable gift.
He wondered if he should do as his Teacher did and give Vanitas a kitten. Then it would have to be a black cat. After all, Vanitas always grumbled about the white cat hair on his black coat. It also would be a great contrast to Murr. But the two would have to get along. Also, Vanitas' relationship with cats wasn't entirely clear, he often complained about said cat hair and even otherwise treated Murr with a certain indifference.
Besides, with a pet came great responsibility, it wasn't something one just gave away as a gift.
A book? Noé had often seen Vanitas read, but never caught a close glimpse of its contents.
What could he possibly like? Noé had no concrete idea, no matter how hard he tried. It was better not to take any risks and just buy anything. He didn't want to give Vanitas anything he couldn't like.
Noé remembered that his Teacher had once given Louis a novella to read.
Once when Noé had come into the parlor, Louis had crouched in the corner with the book open. His eyes were wide open, his gaze fixed on the lines.
"Louis?" asked Noé cautiously, "what's the matter?"
"Nothing," he growled, stood up and left the room without another word.
Noé, still ran after him, but Louis ignored him.
Later Noé found out that the book was called "The Sandman" and was written by the same author as the book about "Tomcat Murr".
At the centre of the plot was a student who felt persecuted by a demonic force that took the form of the mythical figure of the Sandman. This creature was supposed to tear out the eyes of children.
In the story, it didn't quite become clear if the student was paranoid or the figure that haunted him actually existed...A figure that haunted you and wanted to take something from you...almost like charlatan...how much Louis must have suffered from this book.
How it must have shaken him.
It didn't have to be the Book of Vanitas, and it didn't have to be able to corrupt the true name - but books always changed something inside.
Noé didn't want to make the same mistake his Teacher had made, even if it had certainly been an oversight.
He wouldn't give Vanitas a book that could end up hurting him.
Noé looked at the dangling earrings in the shop window. Vanitas' hourglass ring...if he didn't buy him an earring, he bought him a real hourglass!
Noé's heart leapt.
"Excuse me, monsieur?" he addressed a man who happened to walk past him. He raised his top hat in greeting.
"Yes, please?" The gentleman smiled kindly and did likewise.
"Just a moment...Do you happen to know if there's a watch shop nearby?"
"Why, yes, it is, in fact, quite near. Just straight ahead, at the end of the street.“
"Oh wonderful. Thank you so much!", Noé bowed gratefully, "I wish you a Merry Christmas.“
The gentle tinkling of the bell on the doorframe drowned out the many-voiced, steady ticking before the echo died away.
Warmth hit Noé and settled on his cheeks. It smelled of wood and polish. Wood and metal shone all around him. There didn't seem to be a speck of dust in this shop.
With a nod and a smile, he greeted a man with a wrinkled face and white beard standing behind the counter.
The man smiled back. "Good afternoon, monsieur. Can I help you?"
Noé shook his head. "I'm just looking around."
"Please tell me if I can help."
"I will, thank you very much."
With deliberate steps Noé moved through the shop. The tables and cabinets, full of watches, left only narrow aisles. Noé had never seen so many watches and clocks at once. White dials peered out at him like countless eyeballs. Filigree hands moved on them. On one side of the shop stood several grandfather clocks that towered over Noé by quite a bit.
Behind the glass panes, the heavy pendulums swung back and forth with a worn ticking sound. On tables and wooden shelves stood smaller, brightly ticking clocks. The pendulums waved wildly back and forth like metronomes.
The dials were set in shiny wood. Some clocks were decorated with carvings or gold or silver applications.
The most diverse ticking sounds blended into an orchestra in which every clock seemed to have its place.
Noé smiled. What a wonderful shop.
It was especially fascinating how all the hands showed a different time - in a place that was full of clocks, time itself didn't seem to matter at all. For a moment, Noé doubted that he would find hourglasses among all the pieces here.
Possibly he would have done better to look for an antique shop...But then he caught sight of a wooden shelf containing several hourglasses.
Noé tilted his head and looked at the pieces.
How beautiful...The light from the lamps reflected in the bulbous glasses. The dark, smooth wooden frames were shiny.
The light sand sparkled and seemed so soft that Noé would have loved to feel it under his fingers.
"Feel free to turn them over," said the old man behind the counter.
Noé turned around, "Yes, may I? I'll be very careful" The man nodded and Noé cautiously took one of the hourglasses in his hands. The wooden base was so large that it took up his palms.
The hourglass was heavier than expected. Carefully, Noé turned it over and put it back in the display case. The light sand trickled down like the first snow. But in the way the grains of sand bounced up when they hit the glass, they were much more like hail.
Although the falling sand made no sound, Noé imagined how incredibly loud the impact of the grains on the hard glass must be if one was small, very small.
Slowly the ground covered itself with sand. The ticking of the surrounding clocks enveloped the shop, only the hourglass made no sound.
But it was to him, in the glass vessel had become a little quieter and calmer, when the sand mixed only sand. How fascinating. The sand in the upper vessel was sucked further and further into the depth.
Time passed with every grain of sand. Time was something so abstract, but in such moments it seemed quite noticeable. Similar to looking at the turning clock hands, or even breathing with complete concentration. But in this hourglass, time wasn't just passing - it was running out. It was coming to an end. An end. All at once Noé had to swallow.
That was sad.
Of course, one could simply turn the hourglass around and the falling sand started all over again. But in the end, the unstoppable flow of sand showed that something was coming to an end. And that 'something' was perhaps more than mere sand.
Everything passed. Noé turned the hourglass before the last grains could fall and turned away.
What was he even trying to tell Vanitas with his gift? Noé didn't know.
But he wouldn't give anything that said "watch everything in life and life itself go by and there's nothing you can do about it".
Did he worry too much? Perhaps. Could he reconcile such a message with his conscience? Absolutely not.
Noé sighed. While he didn't know which of those countless clocks in this store was right, he probably didn't have much time left. That was not good.
"Not interested in the hourglass, monsieur?"
"I'm afraid not, thank you anyway." Noé bowed. Then turned to leave, walking past one of the glass display cases.
Saw something out of the corner of his eye.
And faltered. He stepped closer to be able to look at the object even more closely.
Suddenly he knew exactly what he was going to give Vanitas.
Noé recognized Vanitas from a distance, leaning with his back against the stone gatepost.
"Vanitas!" cried Noé, his throat raw from running in the cold wind. At that moment the heavy, tinny chime of the tower clock echoed over them.
Vanitas lifted his gaze, smiling. "Impressive, Noé. You manage to be exactly on time and still keep me waiting," Vanitas gave him beaming smile as if he had done a great job. Apparently he was in a good mood. Better than he had been at noontime. He was doing fine. What luck.
"And you manage to be content and still complain," Noé replied, still a little out of breath.
Vanitas laughed. "Let me. It's all good, isn't it? You obviously didn't get lost. “
"Like that's all I do! How did the meeting with your patient go? Is everything okay?" "Of course," Vanitas closed his eyes and rubbed his palms against each other as if to knock dust off his gloved hands.
"That's fortunate," Noé said, "So everything went well? Is your patient feeling better again?" That would be so nice...that this person could spent Christmas and face the new year in safety and piece…
Vanitas nodded. "There was no problem. I was even able to make good on the promise little earlier than I thought. So here I am. Now what? " Vanitas opened his eyes, smirking.
Noé avoided his gaze, feeling heat rising within him. Somehow his behavior seemed terribly embarrassing in retrospect...Yet he had only been worried, after all, something else could have happened if the curse bearer lost control and....
"'And now...," repeated Noé, murmuring, "Why do you ask me that. You wanted me to come here, didn't you?"
"Yes, that's right. Tell Noé, how did you like Paris at Christmas?"
Noé couldn't help but smile widely at the thought.
"It's great! All the colors and lights and smells! Everything flashing and glittering! It's glorious!", his voice cracked in excitement.
Vanitas laughed. "I almost thought so. Did you also see the Christmas tree in the center of the marketplace?" Noé nodded eagerly. "Yes, it was magnificent."
Vanitas tilted his head, smiling. "Oh yeah, but I bet you haven't seen the best part yet. Come on! "
Vanitas turned around, waving for Noé to come with him. Noé watched as Vanitas walked through the gate and into the park.
He hesitated. His hand wandered to his coat pocket. Under the fabric he felt the little box. No, not yet.
There was bound to be a better opportunity. There surely was.
"Noé, are you frozen to the ground or something?"
"I'm coming! “
Noé's breath caught in his throat.
The snow had laid its thick blanket over the entire park.
An avenue stretched out before them. The branches of the trees bent over the path, like a gate. Colorful, glowing orbs of glass hung in the branches, like glassy fruits. Red. Blue. Yellow. Green. The trees, the snow. Everything shone in the most brilliant colors. The snow sparkled under the blue, red, green light like shards of sapphires, rubies, emeralds.
"Wow," Noé gasped, "This is fantastic!" He could feel his heart beating.
He rushed past Vanitas, spreading his arms to embrace all the colors and sparkles. Again and again he turned his head, not knowing where to look first. The snow settled around the branches like thick cotton candy.
The glass orbs looked like frozen, colorful soap bubbles. The melted water that stuck to the smooth surface shone in the light of the lamps.
The colored lights flashed in a wild rhythm to which the snowflakes seemed to dance. Noé beamed.
Whirled around. Ran through the avenue, above him the snowy branches intertwined.
It was as if he was running through a white tunnel. Several times he almost slipped on the packed snow, caught himself again, laughed.
Down upon him fell an endless stream of white, all seemed the same, and yet Noé had heard that each snowflake was unique.
This was really something quite different from the Christmas tree in the marketplace. No pushing crowds of people.
Except for the two of them, the park was empty. No paving stones, no house walls, only a sparkling blanket of snow and trees that stretched towards the sky like frozen columns.
So quiet. The snow fell silently and only made a sound, when it crunched under their boots. The cold stung Noé's cheeks and yet he felt warm inside.
Noé paused and turned to Vanitas.
"You were right! This is so great!" he exclaimed.
Vanitas just strolled slowly behind Noé.
With each step, the fabric of his wide coat swayed back and forth. "Of course I'm right. Come on down anyway."
Just a moment ago he had smiled, now he seemed annoyed all of a sudden. And yet he had wanted him to come here. Hadn't he wanted to show him that? Now he was annoyed, even if it wasn't a serious case of annoyance. Why? Sometimes Vanitas' moods seemed as fleeting as the flakes swirling by. At times he would smile, seeming almost childlike, then suddenly he would seem annoyed and dismissive. Surely it was exhausting even for himself. Perhaps he himself didn't know how to feel, or what his feelings even meant. Maybe his feelings were not only as fleeting as the falling snow, but also just as chaotic. "But it's so beautiful! The snowflakes. Everything." Noé beamed.
"Oh man, sometimes you really are like a little chi-" That was as far as Vanitas got.
Snow came off a branch above them and fell directly on Vanitas' head. He contorted his face as if he had bitten on a lemon.
Noé could literally watch as everything inside Vanitas bristled and shook.
"Shit," Vanitas frantically wiped the snow out of his hair, only to freeze and shake himself as the snow apparently fell down his neck.
"I hate this fucking stuff!" Vanitas' annoyed face, his attempts to shake off the snow, his cursing - Noé couldn't help but laugh.
"I knew you'd think that was funny!" Vanitas scowled at him.
"Sorry," Noé's words were stifled by his own laughter.
"Very believable. Let's see if you find this as funny."
Vanitas bent down, gathered snow in his hands and hurled a snowball at Noé. It only hit his shoulder and burst into white dust.
"Oh," Noé grinned, "And you call me childish. You didn't hit me properly. The tree has better aim than you."
"Shut up!" The next snowball hit Noé's face. Noé snorted, the cold taking his breath away for a moment.
"That's not a bad one," laughing he wiped the snow from his eyes, "But you do realize I'm not just going to let that slide?"
With these words Noé knelt down, clenched snow in his hands, threw and hit. In the past he had often had snowball fights with Louis, Domi and the children from the village and had always come off well.
Except for that one time when a snowball had hit him so hard in the head that he had cried. But apart from that incident he was practically a professional snowball fighter!
Smiling, Noé looked up at Vanitas, whom he had just met, and looked into an expressionless face and cold eyes.
Was he in a sulk?
Without a word, Vanitas turned away and stepped out of the avenue.
He was in a sulk?
"Hey Vanitas, don't be like that now."
Noé followed Vanitas onto the large, wide expanse of snow. Here the snow was loose, Noé sank in up to his ankles. Finally, Vanitas stopped in the middle.
"Noé Archiviste," Vanitas said quietly, a little too quietly for Noé's taste, "You should know by now who you're messing with."
With these words Vanitas whirled around, threw himself against Noé, clung to him. The latter staggered under the sudden impact.
He managed to catch himself.
But in trying to extricate himself from Vanitas' grasp, he slipped and fell backwards into the snow.
One moment he felt Vanitas' head on his chest, the next a load of snow. Cold ran into his eyes, nose, and mouth. Snorting and accompanied by Vanitas' laughter, Noé freed himself from the snow. Blinking against the flakes and meltwater, he saw Vanitas standing over him, grinning with satisfaction.
Well wait, he wouldn't make it that easy for him.
"Take that!" Noé scrambled to his feet, clutching Vanita's legs and bracing himself with all his weight.
"Noé, what the hell!", Vanitas was still yelling, flailing his arms before he too landed backwards in the snow.
Noé took the opportunity for a counterattack. While Vanitas was busy trying to get rid of the snow, cursing, threatening and laughing, Noé crawled backwards. Before he could gain distance, the next snowball hit.
This time Noé's top hat fell off his head from the force of the impact. Another snowball grazed his ear.
Reflexively, he ducked. The next moment Vanitas pushed him back into the snow. For some seconds Noé saw only white.
Gasping for air, he rolled over onto his back.
He lifted his head and looked up at Vanitas. Vanitas sat above him, legs pressed against Noé's side so that he was trapped.
A sardonic grin on his face.
In his hands were two massive loads of snow. Before Vanitas could launch his attack, Noé got a hold of Vanitas' shoulders and yanked him to the ground. Gasping, they rolled and wrestled in the snow until it was Noé crouching over Vanitas.
To prevent Vanitas from counterattacking again, Noé grabbed his wrists and pressed them into the snow. Unfortunately, that left him with no hand free himself. Breathing against the falling flakes, Noé looked down at Vanitas.
For a split second, Vanitas looked back at him with widened eyes. Then he smirked, tilting his head slightly to the side.
Snowflakes tangled in his pitch-colored hair and powdered the black coat that had slipped off his shoulders. The big blue bow around his neck had come loose, the ribbon hanging down untidily.
His chest rose and fell rapidly. His pulse, his rushing blood, throbbed clearly against Noé's palms.
For a moment they remained motionless, only the snow falling down on them.
"Well, Noé," Vanitas' grin widened, although he was completely out of breath, "I guess you'd call that stalemate."
"Indeed, Vanitas. Where do we go from here? “
Vanitas laughed. "I guess that's up to you, Noé, I can't move much right now. How do you think you'll get on? Well? " Vanitas' eyes flashed. Noé faltered. What was Vanitas getting at? It would be nice if they both won, for one thing.
And it was so much fun.
It shouldn't be over yet.
Besides...did he really want to win like that? Noé let go of Vanitas' wrists.
"Huh?", Vanitas made, raising his upper body as much as his position would allow and looking at him puzzled. "Your turn," Noé raised his hands demonstratively, "Winning like this doesn't seem fair to me."
"Not fair?", Vanitas burst out laughing and dropped back into the snow, "You serious? Not fair? Oh, Noé! That's so like you! That even with something like this...you're really--! " Vanitas last words were lost in laughter.
Confused, Noé tilted his head. "Oh really?"
"Yes, really! But well, you asked for it. “
Noé did not know how long they raged in the snow, throwing each other off or wrestling to the ground. The snow blew up into the air like diamond dust.
At one point he found himself lying head to head next to Vanitas. The once smooth blanket of snow was completely rumpled.
They both had their arms and legs stretched out from them, neither could move. They laughed and let the endless flakes from the grey sky fall down on them. The fleeting mist of both their breaths mingled together. Noé didn't feel his cheeks, his hands, or his feet, only icy stinging. The cold prickled in his throat, his laughter interrupted several times by coughs. But it was all right. It was all right. Vanitas' hair tickled at Noé's neck.
"Well fought, Noé, I must admit," Vanitas laughed beside him, breathing heavily.
"Thank you, likewise," Noé replied, "Let's agree on a draw."
"Pshaw, I hit you at least five times more."
"And I pushed you in the snow at least ten times more."
"You didn't."
"I did”, answered Noé.
"And so what, I shot the top hat off your head, that's a hundred bonus points."
"This is the first time I've heard that rule. Besides, I could have easily won earlier. If you have to insert a point system, that would be at least a thousand. “
"Yeah, you could have won. But you didn't. You were too soft. Didn't stop you from hitting me right in the face with a snowball, though. My cheek's still burning.“
"That was just returning the favor. You weren't exactly squeamish yourself and-"
Noé paused. Distant heavy tolling of church bells mingled with the silently falling snow. Even though it seemed to come from far away, the sound shuddered through Noé’s entire body. His stomach tingled. That's right...it was Christmas.
During their snowball fight, he'd forgotten all about it.
Should he give Vanitas his gift now to the sound of the bells?
But as frozen as they were... Noé couldn't even feel his own fingers. How could he give a gift? The cold crept under his skin.
He would wait until they were back in the hotel room.
So later...just now...He just wanted to lie next to Vanitas for a moment, close his eyes, let the snow fall on him and listen to the sounds of the bells.
Back in the hotel room, as Noé took off his coat, he unobtrusively slipped the small box into the pocket of his vest. Then he settled down beside Vanitas on the carpet in front of the fireplace. "Why doesn't this damn thing warm up faster?" grumbled Vanitas, holding his hands out toward the burgeoning fire. Noé couldn't help but laugh. "It was your idea to go to the park, wasn't it? Why, in fact? Didn't you say you were sick of snow?"
"I did and I am, and now more than ever."
"Why did you want to go?"
"Never mind!", Vanitas tilted his head to the side, avoiding Noé's gaze, "That's something else entirely. And there is really no particular reason for the whole thing either."
That...didn't make sense.
"Really?“ echoed Noé.
"Yes, really!"
Just as Vanitas had told him to meet at the park...Had Vanitas wanted to please him in the end?
"Anyway, thanks for the lovely walk. Even though it was probably more of a battle. But it was great fun." Noé smiled at him.
"Just for the record, I won!" replied Vanitas with a grin.
"You wish!," said Noé still cheerfully.
But his smile died. It was as it always was when he extended kindness to Vanitas. Either he changed the subject, as he was doing now.
Often Vanitas lashed out with words like a cornered, frightened animal with claws and teeth. Or he would withdraw into himself as if hoping that the warming words could not reach him there.
That was probably why Vanitas didn't say anything more, and why the only sound between them was the crackling of wood in the embers.
Warmth settled on Noé's face.
The fireplace bathed the room in soft red, painting long black shadows.
You're afraid of affection, aren't you?
Fear of trust.
You're so lonely, aren't you?
"Vanitas?" said Noé softly.
Vanitas raised his head. "What?"
Noé reached into his vest pocket and held the box out to Vanitas. It was so large that it completely filled Noé's palm, black and decorated with a blue bow. Noé tilted his head and smiled gently.
"Merry Christmas."
For a split second, Vanitas looked at him, eyes wide and mouth half open. Incredulous. Almost helpless. Almost...terrified?
But Noé could no longer interpret this expression, because all at once Vanitas began to laugh.
"So you did," Vanitas grinned, "I figured you'd pull off something like this."
Noé blinked in confusion. "Oh, yeah?" I guess he hadn't been as inconspicuous as he thought... after all.
"Yeah! You think I won't notice?"
"Honestly, I did," Noé sighed, "What gave me away?"
"First of all," Vanitas held his index finger out to him, "you didn't drag me along. Already suspicious, if you ask me. "
"You wouldn't have wanted to anyway."
"And you always drag me along regardless."
"And you always come along too, even though you stress over and over that you don't want to", retorted Noé.
"Anyway, point number two!", Vanitas raised his second finger, "You didn't want to come with me to see my patient."
"I wanted to come along!" defended Noé, as if that would make any difference to his exposure.
"But you gave up shockingly easily compared to usual. That you wanted to go along anyway, even though you had your plans, is just typically you. "
Noé felt warmth rise in his stomach all at once.
Though those words weren't even a real compliment and were spoken more with an amused, almost mocking smile than anything else.
And yet there was a certain familiarity in them.
"Don't tell me you already know what' is it, too?" Noé asked, slightly worried. Even though it was impossible. A short time ago, he himself hadn't had the slightest idea what the present would be.
"I’m a doctor, not a fortuneteller, you know."
"Then find out," Noé held the small box even closer to him. Surprisingly hesitant, Vanitas grasped the box with only his fingertips, which looked like claws through his gloves and seemed much more dangerous than they actually were. He touched the package as if he might get burned. For a long time, Vanitas just stared at the box.
Was he nervous?
Worried about not being able to respond appropriately?
Or if he really was just annoyed and didn't care about the gift?
"You don't have to be happy about it. It's fine if you don't care," Noé explained quickly, "And if you want, I can look away."
"Huh? Stop that nonsense. Why do you have to make it so complicated? There." Vanitas tugged on the loop, the knot loosening. Again using only his fingertips, Vanitas opened the lid.
Unusually cautious, as if he were about to open Pandora's box. Finally he put the lid aside, looked into the box – and froze. Carefully, he reached into the box and pulled out the content.
A golden pocket watch.
In the light of the fireplace, the metal shimmered as if it were glowing hot.
Vanitas gently raised and lowered his hand, as if he wanted to feel the weight of the watch. The chain to which the watch was attached ran through Vanitas' fingers like a sparkling golden spider thread.
He stroked his thumb over the engravings that adorned the lid of the pocket watch.
Noé was about to encourage Vanitas to open the pocket watch as Vanitas suddenly stood up.
"Huh? What is it?"
"Wait a minute." Vanita's footsteps echoed on the wooden floorboards. A sound that seemed quite strange in its harshness. Vanitas went to his coat, which hung over a chair, and rummaged in an inside pocket.
Noé narrowed his eyes, but he couldn't make out anything more.
"Here! Catch!" shouted Vanitas cheerfully, and Noé saw something flying towards him.
A baffled "What?" bursted out of Noé.
Murr, who had been curled up in front of the fireplace, jumped up hissing at the impending danger and took refuge on Noé’s bed.
Out of reflex, he caught what Vanitas threw at him. A square object, wrapped thickly in paper.
Because of the paper, Noé couldn't estimate how thick the object was, but it appeared to be at least twice as long as his hand.
Possibly a book.
"What's that?" asked Noé in awe.
"You'll find out when you unwrap it."
"May I?", Noé's eyes began to gleam. Vanitas crossed his arms. "What more are you asking? Just do it."
Heart pounding and fingers trembling, Noé unwrapped the object, freeing it layer by layer.
Finally, he actually held a book in his hands. Noé inhaled audibly. The red-colored leather felt soft under his fingers and shimmered like velvet. How beautiful. He had been so focused on Vanitas' gift...but that Vanitas could give him something in turn....
"Vanitas! Thank you!" Noé gave him a beaming smile.
"You don't even know exactly what it is yet."
"But I'm happy anyway!" Noé turned the book back and forth. He couldn't make out a title. So he opened it. The pages were completely white. He turned the page. The next few were also completely blank.
"A notebook!" exclaimed Noé, "Thank you so much, it's really beautiful!"
"You think so?" With those words, Vanitas stepped back into the glow of the fireplace and settled down beside Noé.
Noé saw him smile with satisfaction. While there was actually nothing to see, Noé flipped the pages. How strange, for a moment it felt like he had the Book of Vanitas in his hand. And that was despite the fact that this was not a grimoire, but a normal book. Though the pages were not completely black, but completely white.
And yet. Inevitably had Noé imagine how he would fill the pages. What he would record on them in the future.
'Archiviste comes from archiving,' his Teacher's voice echoed in his head, 'The memories of the people around you are precious treasures and you are the only one besides the people themselves who can see them. And you will be able to see many of them in the future. Explore them and, above all, preserve them. You one day will understand the ongoings of this world and write them down for posterity. Only if you want to, of course. ‘
He wanted to do something good, just like Vanitas did with his book, albeit in a different way.
It would dedicate the gift that Vanitas gave him to something important.
For sure.
Suddenly a thought struck Noé and he needed certainty.
"Say, Vanitas. Did you get it today and that's why you didn't want me to come along? Is that what you were planning?"
Vanita's eyes widened. "Can't you just be happy, no questions asked?" he snapped, scowling at Noé.
Noé grinned. "Caught you. Because that was also very suspicious."
"You're the one who was suspicious," to emphasize his words Vanitas pointed a finger at Noé," That's your fault you're making it so obvious and I don't feel like looking stupid. My patient happened to be a bookbinder. So it just worked out that way. That's it." With those words, Vanitas tightened his knees and wrapped his arms around them, staring into the fire.
Noé couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh, that's right. In any case, thank you very much! I'm very happy, the book is beautiful. I will write down something important in it."
Vanitas smiled. "I'm looking forward to it."
Vanitas took out the pocket watch, let the chain run through his fingers, and let it dangle in the air. The watch turned slightly under flashing reflections of light.
"A really interesting piece," he muttered, "How did you come up with it?"
Noé pondered. It was a good question. It had just felt right somehow. An hourglass had been too sad for him. But a dial had no end, it didn't run out. The clock hands always went in circles. And though it always went in circles, maybe it could point in the right direction like a compass. Just as Noé had always looked to the clock to gauge the time until they met again. Beyond that...
"You know," Noé said, "I think I had about the same thought as you. But does that mean you like it? Really? For real? Are you happy?" The words bubbled out of Noé. Had he done it? Vanitas laughed out.
"My, you're excited. Typical of you to worry too much." Vanitas smiled as if trying to appear mysterious in the process. However, his smile was not vague enough to completely disguise his feelings.
Warmth rose in Noé. Even if he pretended otherwise, surely Vanitas had given it much thought as well.
"And you haven't even seen the best part yet! You're complaining that I haven't opened the book yet and that I'm happy, but you haven't opened the watch yet. So go ahead and open it," Noé encouraged him, smiling gently.
Vanitas did as told.
With a click, the lid flipped up.
At the same moment, a soft melody sounded. Vanitas opened his mouth, but closed it again before words could form. So they sat wordlessly next to each other and listened to the sounds of the music box.
The sounds were like dewdrops falling gently from the tips of leaves. Like little golden bells. Yes, it was as if the tones themselves shimmered as golden as pocket watch. Noé imagined how it worked inside the watch, how much mechanical effort was behind each note. The tones were something driven by a roller and a mechanism. At the same time, the sounds seemed to come from the realm of the world formula itself. Noé didn't know the melody, but it triggered the same feeling in him when he had watched his own reflection in the shop window. The whole world seemed so close and so incredibly distant to him.
The music seemed to be feelings that had taken on a different form. A sonic form that vibrated the air and the feelings of others. The flickering fire in the fireplace was as close to him as the evening his Teacher had given him Murr.
Louis' presence suddenly seemed as present as Vanitas', and Vanitas all at once seemed as far away as Louis was.
Present and past seemed to blur as Noé's vision did. All Noé could see of the fire was a bright, liquid stain like runny orange water paint. Inwardly, he waited for Vanitas to laugh at him.
"What? Are you crying again, Noé?" or something like that. But nothing. Vanitas was completely silent. Only the soft music of the watch filled the air, which smelled faintly of smoke. Even when Noé felt a weight against his arm and shoulder, Vanitas said nothing. Only his hourglass-earring chimed softly when his head met Noé’s shoulder.
When Noé turned to him, now also seeing instead of just feeling Vanitas leaning against him, Vanitas avoided his gaze.
But the downcast eyelids, the way he pushed his lower lip forward slightly, meant Noé to say nothing.
So Noé remained silent as well.
Felt Vanitas' warmth and Vanitas' body against his. Listened to the crackling of the fire and the soft sounds of that unknown melody. Watched the flickering shadows the fire painted on Vanitas' face.
What are you thinking right now? How do you feel?
With a thud, Murr jumped off the bed. He came towards Noé, cooing. Several times the cat spun in a circle and finally curled up on Noé's feet. The minute hand wandered over the dial. And yet time seemed to stand still.
Outside it was already dark. Snowflakes alone flashed out of the blackness as they silently soared to earth and seemed to sway to the music box sounds. The snow reminded him of Gévaudan. He carried an overwhelming mix of thoughts and feelings about the events there in his heart.
But right now, two certain moments came to his mind in particular.
Vanitas, who asked to him to include him in his thoughts while fighting Astolpho to repay what he did to him. To fight for him and with him in a way.
And Vanitas who asked him to convince him to safe Chloé. Even though his own will, his freedom and independence came absolutely first for him. Usually he pushed him away as soon Noé came a step too close to his past, his feelings, and his innermost.
And yet he embraced Noé with his thoughts and allowed Noé's thoughts to embrace him.
With the memories of Gévaudan Noé thought of Chloé. The moment Vanitas had spoken her true name. "The one who makes music with snowflakes".
Such a beautiful name. For a long time Noé had wondered how one could make music with something so soundless and what it would sound like.
If snowflakes made music, they would sound like the tones that rang out from the pocket watch.
Noé felt Vanita's body gently rise and fall under the steady breaths.
"Noé?" whispered Vanitas quietly, so quiet as he didn’t want to be heard.
"Yes?”, answered Noé, just as quiet.
"Merry Christmas."
Hopefully, they would be able to spend many more Christmases together.
Noé already knew that he would have special memories of this Christmas.
It would be one of the many memories of Vanitas that he would write down in the book, when the time had come.