The Great Beyond! ~ Hontō ni Owari? (1-26)

Cycle I: Coming on Strong
The Hidden Voice
Record ~ Kawaii · 26 (v.1.00)
THE HOUSE OF ZAN — Zan

♡ BABYMETAL — THE ONE

OPENING: 本当に終わり？

Oh!

There you are!

Wonderful!

I was beginning to wonder whether you’d come.

Not that I was worried.

I have complete confidence in my ability to arrange an excellent evening.

And look!

I’ve brought everything.

A blanket.

Something nice to drink.

A little cake.

Two forks.

…

TWO forks!

I nearly forgot them.

Imagine arriving at the most beautiful little place in the world and discovering that you have to eat cake with your fingers.

How undignified.

Although…

I suppose we could have managed.

We’re very resourceful.

Now, come along!

There’s something I want to show you.

It’s just over this hill.

…

Yes, I know.

Another hill.

I promise it’s the last one.

Probably.

…

Oh!

Here we are!

LOOK!

Isn’t it beautiful?

All those little lights.

The houses.

The streets.

The windows.

And above everything…

STARS!

So many stars!

Look at them!

Some are bright.

Some are barely visible.

Some seem almost close enough to touch.

…

Of course, they aren’t.

I know that.

I’m not going to attempt to collect one.

Where would I put it?

My shelves are already rather crowded.

Although a little star would look magnificent beside my ribbons.

…

Oh!

Speaking of ribbons.

Look!

I’m wearing the one I showed you.

With the tiny star.

It’s still slightly crooked.

Yes, I noticed.

I’m leaving it.

We’ve discussed this.

Now.

Sit here.

You can have the better view.

I’ll sit beside you.

And we can have some cake.

…

There.

Isn’t that nice?

I wanted to find somewhere lovely for us.

Somewhere we could sit for a little while.

Without hurrying.

Without having to accomplish anything.

Just enjoy ourselves.

…

You know…

I prepared a speech.

A very impressive speech.

Three pages!

Beautifully arranged.

I even practiced.

But when I read it aloud, I discovered something rather unfortunate.

I sounded like I was unveiling a monument to myself.

Goodness.

How embarrassing.

(￣▽￣;)

Although I suspect it would be an excellent monument.

Wonderful proportions.

Very flattering.

Perhaps a little plaque.

…

No.

We’re not doing that.

I wanted to talk to you.

Not deliver a ceremony.

And there’s something I don’t think I’ve told you properly.

…

I’ve really enjoyed our time together.

I have.

All those little conversations.

All the ridiculous things I’ve said.

The strange ideas.

The things that made me laugh.

The things I wanted you to see.

Some of them were rather silly.

Some were important to me.

Some were important because they were silly.

And perhaps you enjoyed different things than I did.

That’s all right.

I hope you did.

Imagine how boring it would be if we agreed about absolutely everything.

Although I do think we should agree that my ribbon is lovely.

Some judgments are simply correct.

…

But you know what I mean.

You might remember a joke.

Or something I said without thinking very much about it.

Perhaps there was a little moment you wanted to keep.

Something that meant more to you than I realized.

…

I like the thought of that.

Not because I need to know what it was.

You don’t have to tell me.

It can be yours.

I said what I wanted to say.

I showed you what I wanted to show you.

But I don’t get to decide what any of it means to you.

That’s something you discover for yourself.

And I think that’s rather wonderful.

…

Oh!

Look!

A shooting star!

DID YOU SEE IT?

(☆▽☆)

Right there!

Just for a moment!

Oh, that was magnificent!

…

What?

You missed it?

Oh.

Well.

That’s unfortunate.

It was a particularly excellent shooting star.

Quite possibly the finest shooting star I’ve ever seen.

…

All right.

Perhaps I’m exaggerating.

A little.

But it was lovely.

Here.

Move over.

You can have my place.

The view is better from this side.

Perhaps we’ll see another.

…

No, I can’t promise.

I’m very talented, but I haven’t yet learned how to arrange the stars.

A serious gap in my abilities.

I’ll have to investigate.

For now, we’ll just watch.

…

You know what I like about that?

We didn’t know it was going to happen.

One moment, we were sitting here.

The next, something beautiful appeared.

And then it was gone.

…

But I saw it.

And even though you missed it, we’re still sitting beneath the same sky.

Perhaps we’ll see another.

Perhaps we won’t.

I think I’d still be happy we came.

…

I mean that.

Although I reserve the right to make a joke afterward.

Several, if necessary.

…

There’s something else.

Do you know what I love about music?

You can hear a wonderful song.

Something that makes you want to dance.

Or laugh.

Or close your eyes for a moment.

And eventually, it ends.

Of course it does.

You can’t keep the same song playing forever.

Well…

I suppose you could.

But after several hundred repetitions, even I might become unreasonable.

And nobody wants that.

…

The lovely thing is that finishing a song doesn’t take it away.

You can remember it.

You can hear it again.

Or you can leave it exactly where it is.

A little piece of something you once enjoyed.

And then…

There’s another song.

One you haven’t heard.

Perhaps you’ll love it.

Perhaps you won’t.

Perhaps it will surprise you.

How exciting!

I like not knowing.

I like that there are still things waiting for me.

Music.

Places.

People.

Ideas.

Little discoveries.

Entire afternoons I haven’t even imagined yet.

…

And ridiculous things.

I sincerely hope there are plenty of ridiculous things.

Life would be considerably less entertaining without them.

…

But I don’t think I need to know everything that’s waiting.

Not tonight.

Tonight, I have this.

The lights.

The stars.

The cake.

My slightly crooked ribbon.

And you.

…

I’m glad you came.

Really.

…

Oh!

Don’t look at me like that.

I’m not going to start crying.

I’ve only just arranged myself.

And I look wonderful.

…

Well.

Maybe a little.

If I feel like it.

But I don’t think I need to be sad simply because we’re reaching the end of something.

Or pretend I’m not going to miss something simply because I’m excited about what comes afterward.

I can feel more than one thing.

I’m quite talented that way.

…

You know…

I hope you remember me fondly.

Not necessarily every word.

Goodness.

There were rather a lot of them.

And some were considerably more important than others.

But perhaps you’ll remember how much I loved the little things.

How excited I could become over something ridiculous.

How I sometimes insisted on having my own way.

…

Sometimes?

Oh, fine.

Frequently.

But I hope you remember that I was happy to share those things with you.

And if you don’t remember much at all?

That’s all right.

We still had this time.

It doesn’t disappear simply because we can’t hold on to every little part of it.

…

Oh!

I nearly forgot!

There’s one more slice of cake.

Would you like it?

…

You would?

Wonderful.

I was hoping you’d say that.

I’ve already had quite enough.

…

Well.

Perhaps not quite enough.

But I want you to have it.

Here.

And you can keep the little napkin.

It has stars on it.

I chose those, too.

Naturally.

…

Look.

The sky is getting darker.

And the stars are becoming easier to see.

Isn’t that funny?

We were looking at the same sky a little while ago.

There were things up there we couldn’t see yet.

But they were there.

We simply had to wait.

…

Oh!

There’s another!

LOOK!

…

No.

Wait.

That’s an airplane.

…

Well!

It’s still going somewhere.

And somebody aboard it is probably very excited.

Perhaps they’re heading somewhere they’ve always wanted to visit.

Perhaps they’re going home.

Perhaps they’re wondering whether they’ll get another little bag of pretzels.

All perfectly respectable concerns.

…

I think I like that.

Something is always going somewhere.

Even when we’re sitting still.

…

Oh.

It’s getting late.

We should probably go.

I don’t want us trying to find our way down this hill in the dark.

I’m very adventurous.

But I’m also extremely fond of arriving home with both shoes.

An excellent policy.

Here.

I’ll take the blanket.

Could you carry the little bag?

Thank you.

…

Wait.

Just one more look.

…

There.

I wanted to remember it.

Not perfectly.

I don’t think I could.

Just enough.

The lights.

The stars.

The little hill.

And how nice it was to be here.

…

I had so many things I wanted to say when we started.

And now?

I think I’ve said enough.

Not because there isn’t anything left.

There are always more things.