Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sometimes, Taiga wonders if the sun’s shadow is yet another one cast over him.

It’s a pretty stupid thought, if he has to say so himself. How can the sun, a being of light, cast a shadow upon anything? It can assist in creating shadows, sure, but to have one itself? He’s unsure. And yet, somehow, it’s as if the infinitesimal possibility of that has decided to aim itself at Taiga, and shoot him at point blank range.

He’s embraced the sun. It’s in his name. It’s ingrained in his memory; the minute the sun shone on his back, the two of them facing Tregear for that final battle, it was as if his name had finally connected with his destiny.

And yet, Taiga still isn’t sure. It’s hard to discern what is blessing and what is curse — his father, his fall to Planet Earth, and now even his name. The more experienced Ultras would surely state that it doesn’t matter; how one acts in such circumstances is what matters.

But Taiga still isn’t there yet to quite believe it.

Hiroyuki’s asleep. Titas and Fuma, in a rare circumstance, are too. As such, it’s just Taiga wandering the early morning streets, watching the lifeless blue sky slowly be painted with equally-lifeless-orange at its rim. The sun still hasn’t woken up yet, and it won’t for a few more minutes.

The day he — with Titas and Fuma in tow — came back to the Land of Light is still as clear as day. Once a missing persons case, now a rising star; the accolades from everyone welcoming him home are a stark difference from what he’d thought. He’d been referred to as Taiga, Ultraman Taiga, the hero of light, and the son of Taro was a mere afterthought. He can even feel the warmth on his shoulders as his dad had wrapped his arms around him, muttering really fast about how glad he was to see Taiga come home, pride shining as bright as the sun on that day.

What’s next is supposed to be obvious. That’s what they all say. But even the path of heroism, of protecting these galaxies, is still unclear. It’s as if he’s finally gotten out of one shadow, only to hop-step-jump straight into another.

Then, is at least talking to the sun worth a try?

A glint of light shines into his eye; it’s time. He glances up at the sleepy sun, just beginning to start its day. Right now, when there’s no shadows to distract either of them, could he possibly get an answer?

Oi. What do I do now? If we’re pals now, can you at least tell me?

At first, there’s no answer. The sun just continues its ascent, trying to bring life to the sky. But the sky seems just as dull as before, no matter how much more colour it takes on.

The sun must be having an off day today. But how? Hasn’t it done this for billions of years? How is it failing at what it does best?

A bitter chuckle escapes Taiga’s chest. Then another. Of course! The answer’s been in front of him all along!

Ah…. it doesn’t have a clue about anything, either.