"Glory be to the Father,
And to the Son,
And to the Holy Ghost.
As it was in the beginning,
Is now, and ever shall be.
World without end,
A-men."
- the Gloria Patri, written 1851 by Henry W. Greatorex
======
Inori
Prelude - "As it was in the Beginning..."
Written by Kate "SuperKate" Butler (duncan@avenew.com)
======
He sighed, leaning forward to caress the child's cheek gently. Even his old, stubby fingers,
the knuckles rimmed by wrinkles, could feel the perfect softness of the girl's skin. "She's
beautiful," he choked out, staring down at the infant before him. "Just like her mother was..."
"Yes, yes," sighed the dark-haired man from his desk, not bothering to look up at his
elderly visitor. His dark eyes remained focused on the typewriter page, never wavering. "Sora was
beautiful, Rei is beautiful, I understand." He shook his head and finally pulled himself from his
work, turning to glance down at the old man. "Now, Hino-san, I know you didn't come here just to
complement me on my daughter. Something is bothering you, and I want you to tell me. Otherwise, you
may not be coming back to this house."
Hino Hito sighed and pursed his lips, lifting his face from the child's bassinette to turn
toward his son-in-law. Well, the man who had been his son-in-law before... A frown crossed a wrinkled,
normally jovial face as he crossed the room and sat in the armchair before the other man's desk. For
the first time in his life, he was actually fearful of what the younger man would say and do to him.
As long as Sora had been alive, her husband had watched his tongue, never daring to cross her. Now,
he couldn't be so certain what the shifty-eyed, always cold politician would say and do.
"Seiji-kun, I want you to be honest with me," he began, fiddling idly with the sash of his
traditional Shinto robes as he spoke. "I think we both know that you'll be running for our parliament
next year. Tell me, do you think that you'll have the time - or the desire, for that matter - to
tend to your own daughter as you campaign your way to the top?"
Tugging off his glasses, Nuzono Seiji eyed the elderly man carefully. In all the time his wife
had lived, the government official had never been interested in the man's words. Until now, that is.
Now, he suddenly found a new reason to appreciate the virtual stranger. "You've managed to spark my
interest, Hino-san. Please, continue."
In her bassinette, the infant stirred and whimpered slightly, but neither her father or
grandfather heard her rousing.
"I know that you loved my daughter as much as I loved my wife, and that you love your child
as much as I loved mine," pressed the Shinto priest, feeling his determination beginning to build,
backing his every word and thought. "But Seiji, I think we both know that Rei should not be forced
to move around, campaigning, or to be locked up and tutored for her entire life. She needs friends, a
sense of belonging... She deserves a normal life."
At this, his son-in-law scoffed slightly, setting his reading glasses back onto the bridge
of his nose in one smooth movement. "I do not think that my daughter's life will be as horrible as
you think, Hino-san," he retorted coolly, fingers beginning to press down the familiar keys of his
typewriter as he spoke. "I appreciate your concern, though, and - "
Dark eyes, eyes that were almost black, widened as the short, slightly rotund man stood and
pulled the sheet of paper out of the machine. "My daughter is dead, Seiji, and I don't think I have
to remind you that it was partially your fault that she no longer walks this Earth." Brown eyes
narrowed direly at the young man before him. "Sora was all I had, and you stole her away from me,
first by marriage and then, by her death. I won't let you take my granddaughter from me, too." He
turned to glance sorrowfully at the bassinette, a sigh escaping his lips. "How long will it be before
you bore of her and turn away from her for the sake of your work? How long before she finds herself
ignored and alone, just as Sora did?"
Rising, Seiji moved to stand above the small babe's bed, staring down at the child. A few
messy strands of black hair hung her face as eyes - the brightest, most lively violet color he had
ever seen - stared up at him. He moved to brush the strands from her face, frowning as she flinched.
Could she be making the decision on his behalf? Perhaps.
"I can pay you enough for her education and basic board, but that is all," he informed the
old man, voice suddenly turning cold as he walked back to his desk and slid a new sheet of paper
into his typewriter. "She will attend the schools I wish for her to attend, and her fate will still
remain in my hands. The first weekend of every month, I will have an afternoon visitation with the
child." He glanced up from his work and toward the grinning man before him. "But I want you to realize
one thing, Hino-san."
Hito frowned slightly, brow furrowing. He wasn't sure that he wanted to hear what it was his
son-in-law had to say. "What's that?" he questioned carefully.
The politician sighed, eyes moving to glance at the wedding picture that was still proudly
displayed on the corner of the desk. "I want you to realize that I regret Sora's death every day
of my life...and I always will."
The Shinto smiled sadly and nodded in agreement. "So do I."
---
End Prelude.
And to the Son,
And to the Holy Ghost.
As it was in the beginning,
Is now, and ever shall be.
World without end,
A-men."
- the Gloria Patri, written 1851 by Henry W. Greatorex
======
Inori
Prelude - "As it was in the Beginning..."
Written by Kate "SuperKate" Butler (duncan@avenew.com)
======
He sighed, leaning forward to caress the child's cheek gently. Even his old, stubby fingers,
the knuckles rimmed by wrinkles, could feel the perfect softness of the girl's skin. "She's
beautiful," he choked out, staring down at the infant before him. "Just like her mother was..."
"Yes, yes," sighed the dark-haired man from his desk, not bothering to look up at his
elderly visitor. His dark eyes remained focused on the typewriter page, never wavering. "Sora was
beautiful, Rei is beautiful, I understand." He shook his head and finally pulled himself from his
work, turning to glance down at the old man. "Now, Hino-san, I know you didn't come here just to
complement me on my daughter. Something is bothering you, and I want you to tell me. Otherwise, you
may not be coming back to this house."
Hino Hito sighed and pursed his lips, lifting his face from the child's bassinette to turn
toward his son-in-law. Well, the man who had been his son-in-law before... A frown crossed a wrinkled,
normally jovial face as he crossed the room and sat in the armchair before the other man's desk. For
the first time in his life, he was actually fearful of what the younger man would say and do to him.
As long as Sora had been alive, her husband had watched his tongue, never daring to cross her. Now,
he couldn't be so certain what the shifty-eyed, always cold politician would say and do.
"Seiji-kun, I want you to be honest with me," he began, fiddling idly with the sash of his
traditional Shinto robes as he spoke. "I think we both know that you'll be running for our parliament
next year. Tell me, do you think that you'll have the time - or the desire, for that matter - to
tend to your own daughter as you campaign your way to the top?"
Tugging off his glasses, Nuzono Seiji eyed the elderly man carefully. In all the time his wife
had lived, the government official had never been interested in the man's words. Until now, that is.
Now, he suddenly found a new reason to appreciate the virtual stranger. "You've managed to spark my
interest, Hino-san. Please, continue."
In her bassinette, the infant stirred and whimpered slightly, but neither her father or
grandfather heard her rousing.
"I know that you loved my daughter as much as I loved my wife, and that you love your child
as much as I loved mine," pressed the Shinto priest, feeling his determination beginning to build,
backing his every word and thought. "But Seiji, I think we both know that Rei should not be forced
to move around, campaigning, or to be locked up and tutored for her entire life. She needs friends, a
sense of belonging... She deserves a normal life."
At this, his son-in-law scoffed slightly, setting his reading glasses back onto the bridge
of his nose in one smooth movement. "I do not think that my daughter's life will be as horrible as
you think, Hino-san," he retorted coolly, fingers beginning to press down the familiar keys of his
typewriter as he spoke. "I appreciate your concern, though, and - "
Dark eyes, eyes that were almost black, widened as the short, slightly rotund man stood and
pulled the sheet of paper out of the machine. "My daughter is dead, Seiji, and I don't think I have
to remind you that it was partially your fault that she no longer walks this Earth." Brown eyes
narrowed direly at the young man before him. "Sora was all I had, and you stole her away from me,
first by marriage and then, by her death. I won't let you take my granddaughter from me, too." He
turned to glance sorrowfully at the bassinette, a sigh escaping his lips. "How long will it be before
you bore of her and turn away from her for the sake of your work? How long before she finds herself
ignored and alone, just as Sora did?"
Rising, Seiji moved to stand above the small babe's bed, staring down at the child. A few
messy strands of black hair hung her face as eyes - the brightest, most lively violet color he had
ever seen - stared up at him. He moved to brush the strands from her face, frowning as she flinched.
Could she be making the decision on his behalf? Perhaps.
"I can pay you enough for her education and basic board, but that is all," he informed the
old man, voice suddenly turning cold as he walked back to his desk and slid a new sheet of paper
into his typewriter. "She will attend the schools I wish for her to attend, and her fate will still
remain in my hands. The first weekend of every month, I will have an afternoon visitation with the
child." He glanced up from his work and toward the grinning man before him. "But I want you to realize
one thing, Hino-san."
Hito frowned slightly, brow furrowing. He wasn't sure that he wanted to hear what it was his
son-in-law had to say. "What's that?" he questioned carefully.
The politician sighed, eyes moving to glance at the wedding picture that was still proudly
displayed on the corner of the desk. "I want you to realize that I regret Sora's death every day
of my life...and I always will."
The Shinto smiled sadly and nodded in agreement. "So do I."
---
End Prelude.
