These two characters are old as all heck and I've not used them in ages-but I've always loved the idea of the reincarnation and these two are just perfect. Kyoko is the redhead-Kizuna is the angel. I'd tell you their whole story-but it's rather long and being fixed. But anyways-these two belong to me and this is rather self indulgence. Oh well though.

Your body ages slower than hers does. You knew that from the beginning. It was a joke at first, how you looked like a middle schooler as opposed to a high school student and yet somehow as time went on it became more apparent.

She grew older. Mature. She was handsome and beautiful. She treated you fairly. You love her more than you can truly say.

"You know, it's sort of unfair that you age better than I do. By the time I'm old and wrinkly you'll be in your prime and I'll look like nothing next to you."

She cups your cheeks and smiles, a wide and joyous thing that makes your chest tighten.

"Lucky little angel."

It makes you gulp as you blush, pushing her hands away and calling her foolish. You stand on your tiptoes and still can't reach her. You demand she comes down lower and she laughs. She towers over you on any given day and it infuriates you. You wish you could get taller faster. You wish she would slow down.

She is an adult faster than you can blink. You look like you should still be in college. She is getting slower, but she doesn't let it show. She doesn't want you to find out. But you already know.

You love her more dearly now than ever. You are closer to her height. You can satisfy her and all is well with the world. As she lay in your arms, catching her breath, you have to resist the urge to cry. She is fading away so quickly.

You hold her so tightly she laughs in protest. You don't let go.

She lives a long life.

She lives a life of love and you know she tried her hardest to hold on as long as possible.

You look like an adult now. Mature and calm. You are neither.

She smiles at you, taking your cheeks her hands.

"Told you so. I'll see you soon darlin'. Just give me a little time to catch up to you."

She dies in her sleep and you wander the Earth for 17 years, waiting.

When you find her again she's 12 and reckless. She lives with her older brother. She latches onto you as a mother figure she never had. You don't age. She is your pride and joy. She is your love, your daughter, and sister and everything in between. Her brother appreciates the help, even if he doesn't understand why.

She confesses to you in the spring of her 17th year.

"I'm not a kid anymore you know. I'm an adult! I know how I feel and I don't care if you don't believe me, I swear I lov-"

She doesn't get the chance to finish that because you kiss her softly, tears in your eyes. You tell her you've waited a long time to hear her say that again.

You are the mentor this time, guiding her through the relationship. It is sad in a way, but when she turns 21 she suddenly breaks away and says she needs to think.

The year she is away is more torturous than the 17 years you spent waiting previous. When she returns she is wiser again, and older. She holds you close and consumes you.

You love her, you love her, you love her.

She doesn't question that you don't age. She takes it in stride.

"You're gonna look great at my funeral you know. Everyone will think you were way too pretty to be interested in a gal like me."

You want to cry but she cups your cheeks and kisses you softly and you drown yourself in her touch.

You are in pain.

It is an addiction you can't beat.

She dies early-in a car accident and you vow to never let yourself do this again.

It is 50 years before she appears again. She is 22 when you meet. She bumps into you on the bus and she stares. You want to run but she grabs your hand and smiles and smiles and smiles.

"I've waited a long time to see you again."

She says it with tears in her eyes.

She tells you that she knew there was someone she needed to meet.

She tells you that she lived a life before this one, where she committed suicide at the age of 16 when she realized you weren't going to find her. She decided to wait this time.

You kiss away all the pain and swear to never leave her alone again. She cries in your arms and you feel terrible. She feels fragile in your grasp. Where had the time gone? You remember her lifting you up and spinning you around laughing all the while. You are old and ageless at the same time and she is a small bird who flies away so quickly.

Despite vowing to never leave her, your paranoia gets the best of you and you run away one night from her apartment. You hear her screaming and sobbing as you go. You want to fool yourself into thinking that being apart is easier than being together. She follows you and wraps her arms around you as you break down and curse everything for your existence.

It isn't fair. Why can't you be happy? Why, damn it?

You spend a lot of your time just staring at her. This version of her is girlier. She wears her hair long and in a braid. She wears glasses and large sweaters. She is horrible at sports, which she bemoans at any moment she can.

"It's stupid right? I've always been so good at sports. Guess I got cursed for taking the easy way out last time around."

The casualness she speaks of her suicide is jarring and never fails to launch you into her arms. She is slower to wrap her arms around you than she used to be-but that's all your fault for leaving her alone in the first place.

When the two of you go out people ask whether you are mother and daughter and she laughs freely-in a way that makes your heart swell painfully-and waves them off. She has a mischievous look in her eyes as she looks back at you over their table.

"God, it never really occurred to me that you're a super cougar right now. Look at you-Miss elegant and beautiful. I must look like a frumpy college student next to you."

You assure her that she's the most beautiful creature you have ever laid eyes on and she laughs again. You swear the sky looks brighter when she laughs like that. She is your own personal sun and salvation and you aren't sure how you're going to handle her dying again.

She takes pictures in this lifetime. She has an entire wall filled with photos of places and people.

"I figure you weren't going to come looking for me, so I went looking for you," she explains and bumps her hip into yours. She giggles and points to one in the center, "Check this one out. Recognize those two?"

You look at the photo, where two attractive women are hand in hand, grinning at the camera. You would recognize your closest friends anywhere. She touches the photo fondly.

"I didn't go and say anything weird but I said they looked so lovely that I had to take a picture. You can imagine how they preened after that comment. It was just nice to see them again. And…over here are the prefects from school-and there is my big brother from the second time we met," her smile turns sad as she takes in her collage, "Life's funny, you know?"

You hold her close and you spend eight years together in complete bliss. She's daintier than ever before, but this new side is here because of the lifetime without you. You push all thoughts of her dying out of your mind and revel in her life and warmth.

It's in the ninth year when you start to feel it. It starts in your back and spreads slowly. It's as if your body has finally decided that it has had enough. You can feel your spirit begin to fade but you try and hide it for as long as you can. You don't realize how bad it has gotten until you collapse trying to reach something in a high cabinet.

She frets and hovers. She treats you like fragile glass, something you haven't been treated like since the first time you met. You are determined not to let her do so. You attack her lips and body and put everything you have into showing her just how deep your love for her is. You sink into her and as you lay there, catching your breath alongside her, you think it wouldn't be so bad if you drowned in her.

You get weaker each day and she leaves only to take pictures to show you all the things there are to see out there in the world. She cries and bites her lip and sits beside your bed. She's never had to loose you before. She's always been the first to leave. The pain kills you each time, but it gets more muted each time it happens. This time you can feel her pain keenly. It's sharp and sinister and she is mourning you already.

"You have to live on without me. Don't take the easy way out," you tell her one day as she sits there, polishing a lens, "You want to be able to compete in sports next time around, right?"

She promptly starts to sob and you feel so guilty for causing her to cry so often. You smile at her and motion for her to join you in bed. She curls up next to you, so warm and alive that you almost feel her giving you strength. She presses kisses all over your body and murmurs how much she loves you on every breath. She falls asleep beside you and you feel yourself slipping away more and more.

The day it finally happens is a warm one. You can feel it coming and you nudge her awake from beside you. She is bleary eyed, and her hair is a mess but god she looks beautiful. You cup her cheek and run your fingers through her hair. You memorize her face. You've never been on this side of the fence. It's so frightening to close your eyes. You want to stay-want to remind her again how much you love her. You should have asked her how to die. Instead you say:

"It's a lovely morning to die."

She smiles at you, and kisses you one more time. She lingers on your lips and her breath is sweet.

"It certainly is. I love you."

She's ready. She's taken your role so splendidly that you almost envy her.

"I'll see you soon. Well, not soon, but soon enough. You'd better wait up for me, you hear?"

Your vision is blurry and for a moment you see her as you first met her-a tomboy at the tender age of 15, soaking wet. Her orange hair plastered to her face and her green eyes staring at you in shock. You smile, and move to wipe her bangs aside. Your eyes slide closed and she leans into your touch.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

You slip into the darkness of sleep and you don't wake up for a long time. You are dimly aware of her tears, but your soul flies up and away and you are free for the first time in a very long time. You will meet again. You just have to wait.

I just wanted to write something that was sad and yet happy, but still sad. You feel me? You probably do. Rock on.