Such a Loss, pt. 2
Nov. 25th, 2007 05:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nebuliaAbout eight months ago, I posted this: Such a Loss, about Samurai 7. It was a freewrite, typed directly into the Post and Entry box here on lj and completely unedited.
Guess what. I'm doing it again.
, samurai 7
Kirara led him up to her home by the hand, which had been far too empty since her grandmother's death. As they neared, Katsushirou suddenly slowed, looking hesitant. "Kirara-dono..."
Kirara looked back at him. He was blushing again. "What?"
"This is your house, isn't it? Wouldn't this be unseemly? Unless," his eyes widened a little as something occurred to him, "You're married now?"
Kirara blinked. "What? No!"
He let go of her hand. "Then I cannot stay with you. I'll stay with Rikichi-dono, or in a barn, or something. What would the villagers think of you?"
Kirara sighed. "First, you can't stay with Rikichi and Sanae, as they have four children and are constantly adding on to their home. Secondly, you cannot stay in a barn, because you deserve better. And third, the villagers would think I have taken a vow of celibacy, as they've already thought so."
Katsushirou blinked. "What?"
She sighed again. "Katsushirou-sama, I'm twenty-four. I don't know what it's like where you came from, but here, I'm a spinster. I mean, Komachi is nearly sixteen, and she could have gotten married two years ago. The villagers have decided I'm not going to get married, and I suppose they're right."
For a long time, she thought that if Kambei-sama had returned and offered, she would have gladly married him. But then she wondered how much she truly loved him--if she loved him at all. Was it infatuation? Or had she simply been in love with the idea of this strong, fearless, pure samurai, when, in reality, no such thing existed?
"Kirara-dono?"
She looked back at Katsushirou. "Oh! I'm sorry. I was thinking."
A smile flickered in his eyes and at the edges of his lips, though he obviously tried to hide it. "I noticed."
She lifted an eyebrow and then smacked his shoulder lightly. "Shush."
"I didn't say anything," he said innocently.
"Oh...never mind." She grinned at him. He offered her a careful smile back. She decided she'd seen him smile more in the past five minutes than she'd ever seen him smile before.
"You're happy," she said.
He stopped moving suddenly and she regretted her words. When she looked back at him, his eyes were wide and startled. And then he suddenly nodded, his face content. "I am," he told her. "I never...I never really had a home before coming to Kanna or after I left. I guess I kind of consider this my home. Because it was here that I was most welcomed, and here that I felt most at home."
"Where did you live before here?"
"In a city. My father was a leader of it, like Ukyo's father in Kogakyo. But I was the second son and the fifth child, and my mother died at my birth. My older brother was born with only one leg--it cuts off at the knee--and from childhood my father did not consider me ruthless enough to take over the city. Not to mention that right away it looked as though I might not be my father's son." He gestured to his hair. "So I killed my mother, and prevented him from getting a decent heir. He ended up training my older brother, but then he ignored me entirely." They entered Kirara's house, and Kirara sat down, gesturing to Katsushirou to do the same.
"Please, continue," she said, suddenly interested.
Katsushirou blinked up at her, but nodded. "Since my father barely acknowledged my existence, I had to find my own tutors. One day, when I was ten or so, I saw one of my father's guards doing a kata in a courtyard that had once been my mother's, though it was unofficially mine now. At least, no one except me went there. So I requested that he teach me. And he did. And four years later I left home, and almost two years after that I met you. I hadn't spoken to my father since I was six, and hadn't seen him since I was nine. I doubt he even realizes I'm gone." He looked up at her, his face blank. "So you see, home wasn't really home."
He didn't seem hurt by that fact, and Kirara wondered if it just seemed normal to him. Or maybe he'd gotten better at hiding his true emotions.
She wondered if she knew him at all anymore.
He yawned; big and loud, it made his jaw crack. She giggled, stood, and rolled out her grandmother's old futon for him. "You should go to bed," she said. "I didn't realize it until just now, but you look exhausted."
Katsushirou seemed to have totally run out of energy. He mumbled "Okay," removed his cloak, and crawled onto the futon, where he promptly fell asleep.
Kirara smiled. It was good to see him again. It really was.
Guess what. I'm doing it again.
, samurai 7
Kirara led him up to her home by the hand, which had been far too empty since her grandmother's death. As they neared, Katsushirou suddenly slowed, looking hesitant. "Kirara-dono..."
Kirara looked back at him. He was blushing again. "What?"
"This is your house, isn't it? Wouldn't this be unseemly? Unless," his eyes widened a little as something occurred to him, "You're married now?"
Kirara blinked. "What? No!"
He let go of her hand. "Then I cannot stay with you. I'll stay with Rikichi-dono, or in a barn, or something. What would the villagers think of you?"
Kirara sighed. "First, you can't stay with Rikichi and Sanae, as they have four children and are constantly adding on to their home. Secondly, you cannot stay in a barn, because you deserve better. And third, the villagers would think I have taken a vow of celibacy, as they've already thought so."
Katsushirou blinked. "What?"
She sighed again. "Katsushirou-sama, I'm twenty-four. I don't know what it's like where you came from, but here, I'm a spinster. I mean, Komachi is nearly sixteen, and she could have gotten married two years ago. The villagers have decided I'm not going to get married, and I suppose they're right."
For a long time, she thought that if Kambei-sama had returned and offered, she would have gladly married him. But then she wondered how much she truly loved him--if she loved him at all. Was it infatuation? Or had she simply been in love with the idea of this strong, fearless, pure samurai, when, in reality, no such thing existed?
"Kirara-dono?"
She looked back at Katsushirou. "Oh! I'm sorry. I was thinking."
A smile flickered in his eyes and at the edges of his lips, though he obviously tried to hide it. "I noticed."
She lifted an eyebrow and then smacked his shoulder lightly. "Shush."
"I didn't say anything," he said innocently.
"Oh...never mind." She grinned at him. He offered her a careful smile back. She decided she'd seen him smile more in the past five minutes than she'd ever seen him smile before.
"You're happy," she said.
He stopped moving suddenly and she regretted her words. When she looked back at him, his eyes were wide and startled. And then he suddenly nodded, his face content. "I am," he told her. "I never...I never really had a home before coming to Kanna or after I left. I guess I kind of consider this my home. Because it was here that I was most welcomed, and here that I felt most at home."
"Where did you live before here?"
"In a city. My father was a leader of it, like Ukyo's father in Kogakyo. But I was the second son and the fifth child, and my mother died at my birth. My older brother was born with only one leg--it cuts off at the knee--and from childhood my father did not consider me ruthless enough to take over the city. Not to mention that right away it looked as though I might not be my father's son." He gestured to his hair. "So I killed my mother, and prevented him from getting a decent heir. He ended up training my older brother, but then he ignored me entirely." They entered Kirara's house, and Kirara sat down, gesturing to Katsushirou to do the same.
"Please, continue," she said, suddenly interested.
Katsushirou blinked up at her, but nodded. "Since my father barely acknowledged my existence, I had to find my own tutors. One day, when I was ten or so, I saw one of my father's guards doing a kata in a courtyard that had once been my mother's, though it was unofficially mine now. At least, no one except me went there. So I requested that he teach me. And he did. And four years later I left home, and almost two years after that I met you. I hadn't spoken to my father since I was six, and hadn't seen him since I was nine. I doubt he even realizes I'm gone." He looked up at her, his face blank. "So you see, home wasn't really home."
He didn't seem hurt by that fact, and Kirara wondered if it just seemed normal to him. Or maybe he'd gotten better at hiding his true emotions.
She wondered if she knew him at all anymore.
He yawned; big and loud, it made his jaw crack. She giggled, stood, and rolled out her grandmother's old futon for him. "You should go to bed," she said. "I didn't realize it until just now, but you look exhausted."
Katsushirou seemed to have totally run out of energy. He mumbled "Okay," removed his cloak, and crawled onto the futon, where he promptly fell asleep.
Kirara smiled. It was good to see him again. It really was.
