Self-Assurance

By Beezy

Prologue

The poet sat up through the night, unable to sleep. The tempest outside, and her beloved's recent confession, blew the desire to sleep right out of her. Things would never be the same between them. The poet stared bitterly at her opal-stone ring and came to realize what Euripides, one of her favorite writers, meant when he wrote: Never say that marriage has more joy than pain.

Chapter One

Aoi Nagisa returned home that night from her day job, feeling despondent. Her head hurt and there was a faint, yet stabbing pain in her back, between her shoulder blades. She could only find solace in a relaxing night at home.

In the master bedroom, she let down her shoulder length red hair. She proceeded to groom and saw, in the mirror sitting upright in bed behind her, Suzumi Tamao. Nagisa smiled. Her blue-haired wife had her notebook on her lap, her pencil pressed to her lips, a bemused expression on her face.

Nagisa changed into pajamas and plopped down on the bed next to Tamao. She looked up from her notebook and smiled that peaceful, adoring smile Nagisa loved so much.

"How was work?" Tamao asked.

Sighing, Nagisa leaned her head back so it was resting on the head-board. "My boss is cutting my paycheck."

"What?!" Tamao had set down her notebook. She stared intently at Nagisa.

"He can't afford to pay for some facilities and services in his building, so he has to cut ---"

"But why my Nagisa-chan?!"

"It's not just me who's suffering," Nagisa giggled nervously. "Everyone's getting their paycheck cut."

"By how much?" Tamao demanded.

"Seems like …" She did some quick math in her head. "…about forty percent."

"Ay…" she groaned, flopping down on the bed.

"Times are tough," Nagisa reasoned. "He needs the money to keep his company from going bankrupt."

Tamao nodded a resigned agreement.

Nagisa noticed the page in her notebook was blank.

"You haven't written today?"

She squeezed her eyes shut. "I just can't think of anything. When I try to write, I …" She opened her eyes and shook her head. "It seems like my mind is as blank as my notebook."

"That's a fairly poetic line, you could use that," the red-haired woman suggested.

"Can't," Tamao sighed, sitting back up. "I tried it earlier, but that poem didn't amount to much." She held the notebook out. "It's been a bad day for writing. Read for yourself."

Nagisa accepted the notebook and flipped through it. Indeed it had been a bad day for writing. Tamao had written some stinkers; Nagisa, who wasn't even all that literate, could see that. Half of what she wrote wasn't even original.

Childhood memories are like spoiled milk.

A rose is a rose is a rose.

Unrequited love = horse cart

Faith in God is like cloth

Nagisa turned the page, and then laughed. She laughed so hard, she doubled over on the bed, holding her sides.

Tamao snatched the notebook from her, her face bright red. "I knew that one was awful! Stop laughing at me!"

"Okay … Suh-sorry, Tamao-chan," Nagisa gasped. With a sigh, she ceased laughing.

The blue-haired poet turned the notebook over in her hands. She read the page.

"Goodness, this is terrible," she smirked, and started to chuckle herself.

Here is the page Nagisa and Tamao laughed at:

Love = Socks

I'm an anklet; Nagisa is an argyle

Compatibility between anklets & argyles

This poem socks

You are going to get fired

"Tamao-chan, you won't get fired," Nagisa assured.

"The deadline for publication is in December," Tamao sighed, burying her face in her hands.

"That's a long way away. You have time." It was currently February.

"You wouldn't believe how short a time that is for a writer."

They chatted awhile about events and issues. This was what they normally did before going to sleep. And sleep they did. Nagisa fell into a deep, dreamless sleep with Tamao's arm draped over her.