• So, as a once upon a time, there were a story began just before our century leaping. Once upon a time, there was a young nomad from the Southern Land, wandered to the Middle Land. The nomad was looking for something for the sake of her life; instead, she’s looking for the life itself. But as she found that what refers to life, she felt it’s right to find a one word’s meaning which said to be the meaning of life; love.
    It was a hot, hot summer day in middle of July. The young nomad gazed upon the shining sky with the shining sun, smiled upon her head with his cloudy white friends. Very bright blue summer sky – what a nice weather to celebrate! But not a branch of summer’s ode obsessed her single bone – looking at summer’s brightness confused this little one.
    “What a dryness,” she concluded, “Maybe I shall throw away a little something through my suffer throat,”
    She walked a little further, stepped in to a little tavern. Her eyes were looking around, watching few wise father smiles over their happy children and their contend wives. A red-haired girl with dirt-caked sunshine floral apron crooned a happy song with her frying spatula.
    The young nomad came closer to her and asked, “Excuse me,” she said, pulled out few pence and put them on the table, “What could I get with these few fiddlers?”
    The tavern girl raised her head and smiled to the young nomad. Frying oil was wrapping her face, but she looked so happy. “I believe lemons are best for this happy yappy summer! So lemonade and pie it would be!”
    “Thank you…” she replied softly.
    “Are you a wanderer, miss?” she asked while pulling out a pan of lemon pie from the oven and set it up on a faded white plate. “Where did you come from? Come on, sit down, sit down! Many place here on the bar stool!”
    “Madam…” the nomad started. That the tavern girl keeps talking, she drifted on to her own thoughts and instead of answering the questions, she asked her own question as the lemonade squeezed, “What is love?”
    The red-haired tavern girl stop squeezing and poured the lemonade into a mug filled with ice cubes. “Let me think,” she said, not forgetting the happy smile on her shining face, “Love is the same feeling that we feel when our tummy is empty and our head get blacked out of it. When he’s near us, we feel like we’re the mixture that was mix with mixer, our face turns hot like a fried fish, and when he said he loves you, you feel like,” She stopped a while, put her finger on her lips and streamed thoughts a little, then she smiled again, “Like drinking lemonade and eating lemon pie in the middle of July!”
    The young nomad stared at that smiley girl, winked a few and turned her sight to the warm-served lemon pie in front of her. “Is that so?”
    “Yeppy yepp!”
    She nodded and, again, drifted on her own self. She closed her eyes and took a bit of the nice-smelled lemon pie. “Perfect,”
    ***
    The day fell into the night, just right before it turns to dawn. At that time before the sun set, not a step she walked from the tiny tavern spot until she finally realized when the time told her to go. The nice smiley tavern girl directed her to a place where she could dwell for some short time that she followed obediently and just saw the right place.
    “Pardon me,” she said to a blue-haired girl behind the desk. Rashly she stood up and put a brown leather covered book she was reading when the young nomad came. She threw a warm smile and pulled a stool for her to sit.
    “Yes, can I help you?” she asked politely. She wondered why the young girl in front of her stared at her like she was an alien from Venus. She felt a little scared of this young nomad’s habit, but she tried to smiles away.
    “I want to rent a room for one night,” she said finally. She already stared the receptionist enough. The receptionist was quite pretty. She’s around 20, white skinned with long blue hair and bright green eyes. The young nomad thought she might gave her the right and simple answer for her to understand the question she’s been looking for.
    “It’s gonna be five cent, miss. Here’s the key, and… Pardon me?”
    “Miss…” she started again slowly, “What is love?”
    The green-eyed receptionist took a glance to the young nomad, felt confused a little while but then answer surely with her tender voice, “It’s something like sleepiness you brought to sleep, feelings when we cover ourselves with warm blanket in the chilling nights. It’s about warmth, that’s for sure,”
    The nomad had nothing to say, just went upstairs and opened up the door room. Stupidly, like a naïve little child, she stayed all night and tried to find something inside her blanket, and soon confused for not finding anything.
    “It’s odd,” she whispered to herself.
    “Excuse me!” A loud voice heard as the door suddenly opened. There stood a seventeen years old girl, holding her motorbike’s helm and walking inside loudly. “So you’re my roommate, eh? You might be confused, but this is the rule, you know. Together in a room, that’s why it’s awesomely cheap. Runa it is! So, name?” she said with no comma.
    “Love…”
    “Huh?”
    “What is it?”
    “Wow, you’re unlike what you look like, extreme, huh? Suddenly ask such a thing as we first meet up, but, well, yeah,” she talked, again, with no comma. “Listen up, love is… something challenging that deserve to win.”
    … even the young nomad doesn’t know how to react.
    “What’s with that look? Of course I’m right! If I’m not, then why they’re dying to get that love things?”
    “Oh.”
    Another sudden thing happened as the window suddenly opened. Another teenage girl appeared from the darkness break. For her black hair, black eyes, and black suits, they’re hardly seeing her in the middle of darkness of nights.
    “Sorry,” she apologized, “Did I surprised you?”
    “Of course,” Runa snuffled, “Who are you?”
    “Yes, let me introduce myself. The name is Ura, a ninja from Choukai’s clan, hoping that you could keep it as a secret that I’m telling you in case if not, you could ruin my mission which to caught a terrorist who had done 70 times saturation bombing,”
    “That’s weird. Wonder yourself who would believe that,” said Runa, realistically.
    But not as clear minded as Runa, the young nomad didn’t even care about the saturation bombing or the fact that there really was a ninja in front of her. Instead, she just pulling Ura’s clothes and asked the same question again, “What is love?”
    “Just to mention in proof of harmlessness, my answer of your question was something calming like the cherry petals but disappeared silently like ninjas,”
    “That sounds like maniac,” Runa commented.
    But before they debated for furthermore, the door opened and they knew that a boy opened a wrong door that night as they knew also in the same time that the maniac wasn’t lying.
    “Wait, Rhydel Takarai!” called Ura.
    “Not a chance!” the boy said.
    Ura jumped from the window, tried to get Rhydel, the bombing terrorist. Runa ran with her, helped her to catch him up. And the young nomad, as usual, stood with no reaction. But that night was a sudden night after all. As the terrorist ran across the young nomad, she grabbed his coat to hold his feet.
    “What?” they all said unconsciously seeing her reaction.
    “Mr. Terrorist,” she started, repeated the same boring question that’s gonna be repeated for more again in next part of story, “what is love?”
    “Whaaat?” he replied impatiently – he almost caught, no time for this crap! “Why should I know?! Let me go!”
    Young nomad tightened her grab, “Love,”
    “OKAY!” Rhydel shouted, “Love is something like an explosion!!!”
    For a while, everyone just stood and frozen on their feet – and even more after the next scene where the young nomad, easily released the terrorist and let him free. What a selfishness…
    The next summer morning she woke up, a young woman sat in front of her and had a breakfast with her. She told the young nomad that love is something like smile like a rare-smiled person – simply means, surprise. But the young nomad ended up became more confused than ever.
    “Hello, pretty missy there! Take a glance at these fresh flowers?” Young nomad looked around, tried to find the voice that was calling her. A young girl, with short blond hair and green eyes, stood behind tons of flowers.
    The young nomad walked closer, looking at the girl deeply, as her common habit. The girl just stared back and smiled. She herself has the sense of summer sunflower inside. She really fits to stand in the middle of sunflowers and lemon yellow carnations.
    “Flower…” she said huskily, “What is love…?”
    “Eh? Are you asking me about something?”
    “Yes,” she sighed, “What is love?”
    “Love?” she repeated, “I think… it might be something tickling like vanilla essence… Or refreshing like rose petals in the morning time, or…” She smiled nervously and suddenly grew rosebud bush on her cheeks then hide her face, “Stop it! You make me ashamed!”
    Young nomad watching her and a pretty boy behind her. Ah, a little odd, he’s even prettier that her. A different type of prettiness, like sunflower and cherry blossom… She stared at them both, with a little odd feeling. Is it envy? Or embittered?
    “What do you think?” the young nomad asked again.
    “M-me?” said the cherry blossom, surprised. He looked down nervously with the same blush as the flower girl and said, “I-it’s kinda hard to reply, and the answers themselves are too many, but…” He raised his face and took a sight to his sunflower then continued, “But one for sure that I know I could say, it’s something sweet like Core,”
    “Well, well, another stupid couple to find,” They all turned their head. A totally most beautiful rose ever seen, stood there and picking flowers. “Asking about love, young lady? It’s exactly a beauty that shows pheromones that we could also get spared of it,”
    “Pheromones…?”
    “Ah! I forgot to bring this flower to Mr. Masami!” suddenly Core – the sunflower – shouted and ran to take a bouquet of colorful flowers.
    “Flowers?” asked the young nomad.
    “Yeah, delivery from Miss Reifill,”
    Young nomad suddenly remembered the girl sat in front of her in breakfast time this morning. She did said that she was in love, which makes young nomad a little envy knowing that she knows how does it feels.
    “Let me take it for you,” she said.
    “Really? Thanks a lot!” Core replied and gave her the address and the flowery bouquet, then sent her to deliver the love.
    ***
    The young nomad stood before a big wooden door. She had knocked it more than fifteen times but it seems would never opened. She shouted for an excuse and knocked again one more time.
    “Just come in!” – Finally a voice heard.
    So she opened the unlocked door and carefully got inside the house. She didn’t even know is that a house nor no. It’s like a chemical zoo ready to explode.
    “Who is it?”
    “I’m delivering these flowers, from Miss Reifill…”
    He nodded, like it’s a common thing happened – which it is – and said, “Just put it on the vase,”
    With no much talking, she walked quietly to a clear vase on the table – seems like the only normal spot in the room. She turned her head, “You are…”
    “A scientist, Ryura Masami,” he said, without took a glance to the young nomad, “Just sit down if you’re not in rush,”
    Young nomad sat down on a wooden chair, watching the scientist wrote few notes on a piece of paper. She decided that he could give her an answer – just as usual decision she commonly made. And so that she asked again, “What is love?”
    And that’s the very first time the scientist took a look at the young nomad. He put his eyebrows together and finally said seriously, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the total frequency of heart beat plus delta temperature divided by time. If it’s formulated, it’s gotta be n=(f+∆t):t. Or could it be total atom threw and form new molecules from two different individuals? Yeah, different habitat and genetics…”
    “Thank you, Mr. Scientist. Now I’m totally dumb,”
    ***
    “I SAID BE PATIENT, SICK HEAD!”
    Young nomad couldn’t continue her step hearing such a loud voice from garage. She turned her head and found two silver haired people were shouting at each other. The girl seemed as the owner of the garage.
    “You dumbass don’t know how hard to mend the broken car!” she shouted.
    “THAT’S WHY I KEEP TELLING YOU DON’T OVER TALKATIVE AND DO YOUR WORK!” the other silver haired replied.
    “Sorry,” young nomad said.
    “WHAT?!” says them both.
    “Oh, who are you?” asked the owner.
    Young nomad stares at them both. She didn’t say a single thing. Then she threw back the question and asked them for their name.
    “I’m an extra cool garage owner, Ryuna Masashii. And he’s an unimportant-infamous-mysterious-sudden-appear person,” the silver haired girl said.
    “Politician, Rins Prestera Exelaire and she’s supposed to be a stupid-idiot-syndrome-downed –another-cocky-hardly-knowing person,” the other replied.
    Poor to it, both the boy and girl talked in the same time as they’re in fact really similar that they ruined because of the similarity. The young nomad couldn’t hear any of their word, but she didn’t even care because she’s not looking for any more acquaintance, but she’s looking for the meaning of love – which she asked once more.
    “Love?” Ryuna repeated – as just before Rins threw her another insult about dumbness – “I knew it was a sort of gas from high quality bike,”
    “Well, what about you?” asked the young nomad to the politician – talking about automotive, not likely her stuff.
    “Umm, well, love, love is…” he mumbled, “Well I guess it might be something like conclusion from deep-thoughts discussions which had been formed in to tons of hard-founding documents that had been agreed with both sides…”
    “Oh, shut up, you maniac,”
    “Wow, look who’s talking,”
    Young nomad was a little ignored back then because those two silver rascals fighting, and talking, and screwing like there’s no tomorrow. She almost pulled a chair and look for some tea while watching them both fighting just before suddenly Rins turned his head and stop shouting.
    “Are you a nomad?” he asked – the young nomad nodded – “Where are you going to head now?”
    “I don’t know. North,” she replied hesitantly.
    “Well, as you said so,” he said, pulled out something from his coat’s pocket. He smiled at the young nomad and hand her a red wrapped box with golden ribbon, then said, “Would you help me to hand this to a maiden of St. Charlotte chapel?”
    “Okay,” she said, then walked away to northern part of the land.
    “What was that?” asked Ryuna while watching the young nomad started to walk faster and slowly disappeared from their sights.
    “Well, if you want to know,” he laughed, “Wedding ring,”
    ***
    The bell chiming from the tower above. The young nomad watched the clouds flowing away in the great blue yonder. Long time she took to watched, then finally she opened a big black door of the chapel.
    A black haired girl caught her eyes – for that time she was sure that the girl was the right person she’s looking for and she wasn’t wrong. The young nomad carefully walked closer to her, “Excuse me…” she called.
    “Yes?” she turned her head. The young nomad kept silent, a little nervous with no reason. The young girl smiled at her and asked, “Are you a wanderer?”
    “Yes,” she replied.
    “What are you looking for?”
    She felt a little hesitant, but unconsciously she answered the young maiden’s question. This time she didn’t asked for the meaning of love – though she will ended up asking it – but she asked for her true purpose; the meaning of life.
    Hearing the young nomad’s sentence, miss maiden just smiled and said with her gentle tender voice, “That’s the secret of the Most High. We shall just live our life as the way it is. As long as you believe, you’ll never be able to astray,”
    She stared deeply at the maiden, felt more and more weary. “What is love?” she finally asked.
    “Now that you asked about love…” she replied slowly, “Love… is something soft and tender like a huge teddy bear. As we want to embrace it, we couldn’t as it’s too huge that we’re the one embraced by them. Sharing unreal warmth, that’s love,”
    The young nomad stayed still at her position, thinking hard to save the memories she just received. Somehow she felt it’s getting hard for her, to found more likely thousands of different description. She took a breath and pulled out the red box the politician gave her, “Someone asked me to give it to you,”
    The young maiden took the box from nomad’s hand. She stared at it for very long time, then she smiled happily and thanked the nomad.
    The young nomad had never ever seen such a smile.
    ***
    “Look out!”
    A hundred pieces of letter float on the air. Very beautiful scene, remembering that was a gentle-winded day. The young nomad got in to her sentimental mood, seeing such a scene. Only, a poor postman just stared at the screwed letter miserably.
    “Oh,” said the young nomad, awake from her daydream, “I’ll help you,”
    “Thanks a lot!”
    The letters were on various envelope, if you yourself saw it you would sit down and picking which envelope is the best among all instead of thinking about the meaning of love.
    The young nomad and the postman kept gathering letter for some times. He mumbled all that seconds just before the young nomad finally said again her favorite quote, “Mr. Postman, what is love?”
    “Well, simply, love is something you keep nicely and lock tightly until someone you’d like to open it,”
    “Oh,” she said. The young nomad stood up, and walked away, left the poor postman behind – who just could see her walked further with not doing anything of his shockness.
    Now that she left the poor postman, she walked through the nice town square. Once at the time, she saw a blond-haired girl was peeking behind a wall. She stepped towards her.
    “Hey,” she said. The girl bounced out shocked out.
    “Y-yes?” she asked.
    “No, just…” the young nomad said hesitantly, “What are you doing exactly…?”
    She just laughs and took another peek beyond the wall. “Me? I’m just stalking,” she said, “my crush. Anyway, it’s very good to say hi. Hi, I’m Valley Sanctuary Tristan, basketball athlete,”
    “Your crush…” the young nomad repeated, “How does it feel to have it – the crush?”
    “It’s hurt, that’s why we called it crush. Who mentioned it? I forgot!” she said, with her cheerful loud voice, then laughed again. “Not for me! Crushing is fun!”
    “What is love?”
    “Well, now that you mention,” she thought a while, “Guess it’s something bouncy… Only appear for particular person… Yeah, that’s it,” she said. Then she immediately smiled and looked at the nomad, “Hey, would you do me a favor?”
    “Yes?”
    “Would you hand this scarf to a mister-who-sits-there, pleaaase??? Pretty please~?”
    The young nomad nodded and the athlete gone. She walked ahead and found the person she was crushing on. He was a blond-haired little writer with his penetrating green eyes. The young nomad stopped in front of him, saying nothing until he raised his head off his paper.
    “Yes?”
    “A girl who was stalking her crush told me to hand this to you…” she said – too honestly.
    The writer threw a little smile and let her took her seat in front of him. The young nomad saying nothing though the writer stopped writing for her, and offer her few compliments.
    “Mr. Writer, what’s love?”
    He took a sight again at the young nomad, which started to drink her coffee. “It is an end, a beginning, a meeting, a separating, a losing, an existence,” he said, “Well I guess somehow it’s all fake, but however, it’s not. Just something started from losing your way, then make your new page of day – rewrite a story of life,”
    “Story?”
    “Everyone has one. Happy ending, sad ending, whatever ending. Just make another first step, just as how as you start your everyday,” he said, “Find your own,”
    The young nomad, again, silent. But the sentence now became harder to receive. She didn’t get the meaning, but she strangely could feel it.
    “Thank you,” she said, stood up and walked away, continued her journey.
    She wandered a little long; the sun now is on the top of his position, shining greatly upon the summer sky. How beautiful the blooming rosebuds in every cheeks of toddlers; they laughed in childlike affections. Are those laughs the right sort of thing she was looking for? Or is it the happy smile of their mothers?
    Her eyes caught something. Strangely, she couldn’t take her eyes off. There seated by, a brown haired sleepy-looked man, behind a desk. She walked a little closer, then closer, then closer…
    “What?” he suddenly said.
    “N-no,” the young nomad replied surprisedly.
    “You’re a nomad,” he said within his husky voice. “What are you looking for? You came to me – you’re looking for an answer. What is it, young nomad?”
    “Are you an oracle?” she asked.
    “Title mentioned,” he replied.
    The young nomad lied her head down, staring at her toes. She needed to decide what to do – is this the end of her journey of seeking for the meaning of life?
    “Mister,” she said finally, “What is love?”
    “So that’s your question,”
    “I was looking for the meaning of live…” she said slowly, “My mother, who died several years ago, wrote in her diary, which saying that this life…”
    “I know,” he cut.
    “Life is the jewels of love, affections and care, which circling through into infinity,” said the young nomad, didn’t care about the oracle’s words.
    “And the chain which linked to others – which bound ended by love, begin with love, and made by love,” he continued her words.
    The young nomad kept her lips tight a little and said, “It’s true,”
    The young oracle smiled and made up his seat, “Love is a dream you see in your sleep – it’s the flower of every unconscious either conscious world. It’s everything in every time you close your eyes; open it, taking your breath, releasing it… It’s just simply everything without any significant signature,” he said, “It is the air, the fire, the water, the earth, the life. Either is the sky above, the stars that shine – the world that you see. I am the love – you are the love. Everyone is love. Everything is love.
    “Well, what can I say? I just have a thing I shall leave you to take it to your heart. It’s all I know about love. Which I know that,” he smiled wider, “love is just in front of you,”
    The young nomad raised her head, stirred her sight around. Looking at the park – filled with love, and that one man standing, which meant to contain all love she had and she needed. The one, and only. But he is not a prince charming; he is not a brave knight. He was just a man with all his splendor and tenderness. Whom, telling the brave young nomad that love is just a simple thing like eating few things when you hungry, warmth, explosion in your heart, something to win, gentle, smile, freshness, something tickling and sweet, heart beats, enjoyable taps, deep thoughts, something which keep on wrapping us on it, embracing, and hugging; something we keep in our heart, something for only particular person – and a story. But now what which she knew mostly about love is –
    “Hey,” the man said, “what’s your name?”
    – love is love.
    “I’m Mathilda,” the young nomad smiled.