Nanao tugged anxiously at the frayed hem of her deep navy dress. With her free hand, she absently gnawed at her peach tinted nails and stared out of the window. She withdrew the hand from her mouth and traced the intricate patterns made upon the glass pane by the raindrops, which threw themselves against the window persistently as if trying to force entry. An old, musty smell lingered, staining the house. Her foot tapped a familiar rhythm and she hummed a tune to match. Reluctantly she clawed her way out of the soft, warm armchair and padded over to the mantelpiece.
The old, oak mantelpiece was shrouded in a blanket of dust, as if it had been left untouched for years. She let a long, pale finger reach over to a golden frame perched at the edge. Removing layers of dust, she saw the monochrome image which lay beneath. A happy couple, the male's face all too familiar. Though that time had long gone she could still pour the vibrant summer colors into the photograph. She could hear the children's laughter echoing, glasses clinking, and a deep, seductive voice whispering sweet nothings into her ear. Sighing, she let the slender, frail looking hand linger over the photo momentarily, before letting it fall limply by her side.
There was a sudden, thundering knock at the door. Nanao spun around and ran over the the door, flinging it open on it's oil thirsty hinges. There before her stood the man she had longed to see for so long.
"My goodness, you're back!"
The man nodded, smiling down at her. She clenched her hands tightly, refraining herself from jumping into his arms and making a scene.
"It's been so long! It was only moments ago, I was remembering that summer.."
The man nodded again, thoughtfully.
"Yes..It was quite a summer we had..."
Nanao's face, so vibrant and full of life, beamed up at him.
"God Shunsui, it's been so long!"
She moved forward to grasp his hand but he stepped back, as if he had been stung. She looked up with a confused expression, to find that her husband's face had morphed into a younger, unfamiliar one.
"Mam, are you alright?"
Nanao stared at this new man, puzzled.
"I'm sorry to be the one to inform you, but your husband Shunsui Kyoraku died in battle. Rest assured Mam that he did not die in vain. Will you be okay Mam?"
Nanao gripped onto the door frame as if her life depended on it, all the color had drained out of her face. All she could do was nod.
"Very well Mam, we shall be in touch about funeral arrangements. My condolences."
The soldier tipped his hat to her and walked off down the wet, cobbled path. Nanao shut the door, still trembling.
Nanao stumbled over the the mantelpiece snatching the golden framed photograph before collapsing into the hard, cold armchair. She held the photograph against her chest, tears cascading down her face. Her foot tapped a unfamiliar rhythm and she hummed a tune to match. The old grandfather clock's pendulum swung, counting the seconds as they passed. It was as if time itself was mocking her. It was agonizing.