Maybe somewhere deep in his heart, he had always known.

In that instant, in the cool desert night, it seemed that the truth had always been there, sitting at the bottom of his soul, untouched and unnoticed by anyone but him.

It was amazing how your entire life could last an instant.

In that instant, the blade looming above his head shone like a second moon. In that instant, Sarasa's cry of "Onii-chaaaan!" resonated in his mind like the only sound the universe had ever heard, a sound of pain and loss that had echoed throughout time.

In that instant, he almost laughed to himself. For a change, Nagi had been wrong. Fifteen years ago the Savior hadn't been born. But in another instant, after this instant, the real Tatara would awaken.

But that instant was not here yet. In *this* instant, as a sword began its deadly swoop, he lived his entire life.

In that instant, he saw a five-year-old girl covered in sand, delicately holding a clay pot with a small plant in it. That had been the year of the horrible drought, when nothing had grown and the villagers had risked starvation. For his birthday he had been given his first sword, as well as armor, travel accessories, all the necessary accoutrements of a hero. Yet in the wastelands surrounding the village, she had searched and searched and somehow found a piece of green. She had given him a piece of life when he was surrounded by gifts meant for death.

In that instant, he saw an eight-year-old little sister triumphantly pinning him down. She had laughed at his stunned expression - that she had bested *him*, Tatara - and said, "You may be handy with your sword, but if a girl can beat you, what kind of fighter are you?" Her twin braids were falling apart and they were both covered in dirt, but with her proud face and the wide blue sky behind her, it seemed she would always be stronger than he was. She would always be freer than he was.

In that instant, and this one, he realized that his fate had always been decided. She was given the chance to make her own though.

In that instant, with horrified cries of villagers rising around him, he heard his own soft call of dismay. "Sarasa," he had said worriedly, watching his twelve-year-old sister run off into the desert. It was their birthday, his coming-of-age ceremony... and her realization of how worthless she was. If only she knew - seeing her tears at her best friend's death and her sadness rivaling that of Ma- kun's mother had given him the strength he needed to *be* Tatara. Until then, he hadn't really realized what it meant to be the Child of Fate. That night, he realized it meant people would die for him, that perhaps even people he loved dearly would be killed for his sake. The next time, it could be Sarasa who claimed to be Tatara, or would die in his place. So for her sake - and for everyone else who would fight for him - he would not fail. Even if it meant leaving the village and fighting on his own, he would do what he was born to do.

In that instant, he realized what he was born to do. All those years, when people had been teaching him - protecting him - worshipping him, it had all been for her. So she would lead the life she would need to live to take on the weight of being the Child of Fate. She knew pain, but she also loved life. Being practically raised by Nagi, she had the knowledge and the strength to do what she was born to do. And she would do it her own way, a choice he had never had.

In that instant, as he felt the cool dark night coming closer and closer to him forever, he saw a young woman, working hard just a few hours earlier to try to make the earth green again. He saw her watching him with concern in her eyes, and even though he felt guilty for burdening her, he remembered his relief at having someone to share the weight of his thoughts with. And now, he wished for it all back. Because she would have no one. She would have all the responsibility of being Tatara, all the helplessness at not being able to really do anything, all the wearying thoughts of what she must do. And she would have no kind sibling in the garden there to smile at her and just be by her side.

He didn't really know why he had said it - "Sarasa, when I'm gone, protect the villagers and our parents." Perhaps, deep inside, he had felt this moment approach, just as in this moment he felt the approach of cold fatal steel. Maybe he had always known, watching her grow up strong and free against the wide desert sky, that one day she would leave the village and he would stay here forever.

In that instant, he thought her name. Sarasa. Not Tatara; Tatara had not yet been born. But Sarasa was there. Sarasa would live. And the star of Tatara, the spirit of Byakko, would burn bright in her. She would live to do what she chose to do, what she needed to do. Sarasa. Tatara. In those two words, he felt his entire life. He had no regrets, though. With that one word, his last mortal thought, he wished her luck, and love.

In that instant, just as true night fell at last, Tatara knew peace, and the real Tatara was born.

- by Rebecca