Sachin (Saw-Chin) ~ 'pure'

Faith

"Ya' know, Simba, why don't we see any more little Simbas underfoot around here?" asked Timon from atop the crown of the king's head. The pair carved a goofy, oddball silhouette against the mellowing evening sky. Beside them laid Nala, her head resting peacefully on her paws, enjoying the good company. Standing next to them on a four-set of stubby legs and hooves was Pumbaa, his ivory tusks darkening slightly in the deepening twilight.

Timon's eyes widened, resembling dinner plates. "Don't tell me," he breathed. He rolled off of Simba's head and grabbed a hold of his ear, speaking directly into it. "…is the ol' gun firing blanks?" he whispered.

Simba whipped his head around, sending Timon flying. "Timon!" he cried indignantly. "Guess not," mumbled Pumbaa as he watched Timon land head first in a berry bush. Nala turned towards them, her eyebrows raised in curiosity. Simba straightened up, clearing his throat. "Ahhh, Timon here was just, uh asking about Gazelle population," he balked.

"Wmmmf nnnt!" came Timon's mumbled reply as he squirmed his way out of the bush he'd landed in. Marching back over to the regal couple, he turned his interrogation to Nala. "Just when are you and Simba expecting numero dos?"

Nala chuckled lightly. "I think Kiara's been more than enough for Simba and I." A surge of pride ran through Nala's chest as she recalled the many accomplishments of her daughter. Her eyes narrowed impishly. "Or are you that desperate for someone else to babysit?"

Timon frantically waved his arms. "No, no, that's fine, that's fine!" He breathed a sigh of relief when Nala laughed good-naturedly and shook her head at his response. "Sheeeesh," he groaned. "Ask a normal question around here…"

"So Kiara will be the only child forever…" Pumbaa mused dolefully to himself as he settled down on his haunches. "Well, at least she has Kovu so she'll never be lonely," he said with a wide Pumbaa smile, drawing matching smiles from both the parents.

A mischievous grin crawled across Timon's face. "Well, you never know," he whispered to Pumbaa. "For all we know, there could be a little Simba running around in the Jungle somewhere even as we speak!"

Nala's blue eyes turned frosty even as her heart went for a loop-the-loop. What? Her eyes narrowed as she turned to Simba, who withered under her gaze. "What is he talking about?" she demanded.

"Uh… well…" Simba stuttered, casting his eyes frantically towards Timon for help. Timon grinned sheepishly and sharply elbowed Pumbaa, who jumped in surprise. Taking Timon's hint, Pumbaa muttered something about missing a grub convention and zipped off with Timon in tow, both spewing all manner of apologies and excuses as they faded into the sunset.

Nala maintained her death stare, waiting for an explanation. Her claws dug into the ground, uprooting the blades of grass. The almost imperceptible tearing sounds seemed deafening. Simba rolled his shoulders and loosed a heavy sigh, staring into the tinted sky as if asking, 'why me?'

Finally he spoke up again. "She was a lioness I met in the jungle." He spoke quickly as if the words were poison he needed to be rid of. "We… had a thing. And then it was over. Alright?" He finished anxiously.

His words may well have been poison for the effect they had on Nala. Her jaw dropped in incredulity, her eyes widening in disbelief. She slowly shook her head, feeling her heart plunge. Simba's ears flattened against his head in fear. "…Nala?" he asked softly. "Are you alr-"

"No," she cried furiously. Disbelief had given way to anger and more than anything a sense of betrayal. "I thought…" her heart sank out of her pads and into the ground. "I though you waited for me the way I waited for you…"

Simba's breath sped up in alarm. "Nala!" he said, his voice desperate, his eyes wide and spilling panic. "Nala! Come on! Nala!"

But his words only bounced back as she sprinted away from him, the air behind her lacerated by long streams of tears dripping from her face. She ran from Simba, from the truth he'd never told her. She couldn't accept it. I waited for you!

******

In the company of the trees and nightlife, Nala brooded. Her thoughts were muddy, flitting between furious and grievous. She stared the trunk of a nearby tree as if she could move it by the sheer power of her emotions. Come on, Nala, she cooed to herself. Just let it out. Then face it.

A rustling in the distance distracted her. She looked up, her ears standing at attention. Go away, whatever you are, she warned. I'm not in the mood. She rolled her neck up to gaze into the sky. The stars winked down at her as if sharing their secrets.

Unwelcome words interrupted her private reverie.

"Don't be angry."

Somebody's going to die, Nala decided, whipping her head around. All at once, every cell in her body slammed on the breaks.

A devastatingly handsome lion stood casually beside a neighboring tree. His auburn frame was slim but far from lanky; toned muscles subtly rippled under his coat. A piercing pair of icy eyes surveyed Nala, drinking her in. "I hate seeing you angry," he continued coolly.

Damn it. Snap out of it. Nala's brain tried to jumpstart itself. Unsuccessfully.

He smoothly padded towards the lioness, a calm smile spreading over his face. His footsteps were silent and graceful, each movement exuding confidence and grace. The evening was suddenly hushed, as if the lion's presence had stunned the birds and the insects into silence. It was a pleasant silence.

"Sachin," she breathed gingerly as she regained some semblance control of her senses.

The lion's laugh rang out through the night air, a genuine and light laugh that made Nala's stomach flutter. "I was beginning to think you didn't remember me," he replied, flashing her a wide grin. The moonlight seemed to dance with delight in his eyes.

Nala's chest was heaving. Her mind drifted off, intoxicated by the scent of fresh forest bark that drifted through her nostrils, coaxing her towards him. What is this? I'm acting like a cub. Get a hold of yourself, Nala! With a final deep breath, she tried to salvage the conversation, or lack thereof. "I… haven't seen you in a while. Not since you came back the week after Scar's death with the Mountain pride in tow."

A regret cast itself over his features. "You should have come with me when I left Scar's madness, Nala," he murmured. He looked at her searchingly, only to find her eyes boring into the ground. "Things would have been different." He took a step. "Easier." He edged closer. "Better." He was nearly muzzle to muzzle with Nala.

She took a step backward in dismay. Why am I reacting like this? I made my choice long ago… didn't I?

Her mind wandered back to the time of Scar's rule.

A cub sat alone. Around her, the rain fell to the ground in sheets like a blanket of sorrow, mixing with the puddles of tears gathering beneath her. The loss of her best friend was a raw, open wound that bled freely. Every smallest thing seemed to summon his arrogant smile, or his confident laugh, or his playful smirk. And in the face every memory, her tears flowed like the rain around her.

A golden brown paw reached over and brushed away a tear before it could fall to the ground. Nala squeezed an eye open to see Sachin giving her an anxious frown. His eyebrows furrowed in concern, he ran his paw over her back soothingly. Nala felt some of her pain and grief funneling through his paw as he willingly shared her burden. She shivered, cold. She felt him pull her close, and without a second thought she buried her head into his warm, welcoming coat seeking refuge. Hugging each other close, the friends drifted out of their tears and into the consoling oblivion of sleep.

The memory gave way to the day he left.

Scar reluctantly slunk out from his throne room, pushed into action by the unusual and unwelcome sounds of life nearby. He sauntered out to the edge of the outcropping and observed the unfolding scene with his characteristic brand of detached boredom. "And just what is happening here?" he slurred sardonically.

Sachin stood tall and proud, a tree that would not be moved by the harshest storm. "I've had enough, Scar," he announced boldly, his eyes screaming a challenge to Scar's authority.

Scar rolled his eyes, idly toying with a claw in disinterest. "And I suppose you know," he meandered, cleaning his paw, "that your challenge shall be met," he frowned slightly as he picked at a persistent piece of dirt, "with the slobbering, deathly jaws of a hundred hyenas?" He finished with a smile as the offending chunk fell to the ground in front of him.

"I'm not challenging you, Scar. I'm leaving."

Scar's ears perked up as his seething viridian eyes jerked down to the lion that opposed him. Sachin met his gaze without a flinch. "What?" he hissed.

With as even a voice as he could muster, Sachin explained. "I'm leaving, Scar. I'm done." He stared up at the monarch, defiant. "I'm finding a new pride."

Scar glowered at the lion before him. "Well, I must admit my displeasure at one of my subjects rebelling