Distance

Makimachi Misao's POV

by dyosa :)

standard disclaimers apply. don't sue me please. thank you.

***

I watch you from behind the screen doors as you sit there, on the opposite

side of the courtyard, and try to assess our distance from each other.

Twenty... or maybe twenty-five paces away.

Ruefully, I look at you again. As you sit there, quiet and composed, silently

welcoming the rush of the cool morning breeze as it softly breathe on your

dark bangs playfully.

I winced, foolishly envious of the mirthful wind with its closeness to you. But

the slow sway of your hair, as it languidly caresses those hooded eyes,

tempts me unmercifully to stroke it myself.

Then, I snapped back to reality. Back to my ten-meter distance away from

you.

I scrutinize, still. Clad in your white yukata with matching light auburn

hakama. Unmoving and so silent as ever. The rise and fall of your

breathing is ambiguously decipherable behind your garment. Those large

callused hands, idly resting upon your lap. Your broad frame slightly

relaxed, but never letting vulnerability take post.

Your silence and stillness is so unnerving. You are like a cold perfect statue

amidst a vast barren field. Defying anyone that nears you.

Defying me.

I suddenly felt restless, uneasy. I shifted from one foot to another and

turned my gaze to the awaiting tray of tea and stared at it blankly.

Should I, or should I not? Why now, when it used to be so easy? I shouldn't

stare at you too much and let me feel this way. Yet, you're the only one

who makes me feel this way.

I tear my fitful gaze at the tray and stare somewhere else. Unconsciously, I

fiddle with my gold ribbon as I relinquish the soft breeze myself.

Letting out a sigh, I gingerly pick up the tray and start my seemingly

hundred-mile march towards you.

I know you were watching me, I feel it as my skin burn in sensitivity. Along

the way, I summon all my strength to greet you with my usual smile.

I turn around a corner, then another, and found myself easing my way down

to kneel before you, and smile.

"Ohayo, Aoshi-sama!" I greet cheerfully, glad to hear my own voice. Afraid

that I may not.

You nod. A mere gesture, but enough to let me know that you comply with

my presence.

Approximately twenty-one paces away.

I execute the tea ritual, miraculously ending without much of a spill or

visage of tenseness. I wonder, did I gain that much self-control due to my

extreme nervousness?

Then I heard Omasu call me from the kitchen on the opposite side.

I hurriedly scramble up, uttering my excuse then turn around.

"Wait Misao," I heard your voice. Your voice.

I turn around, and found your left had extended, almost touching my right

upper arm. Then you slowly pull it away, hovering almost enticingly, down

my arm, sending warm sensations up my limb and washes throughout my entirety,

then found its place on your lap again. A small hint of flush upon my cheeks, I

presumed, the only evidence of this small, yet hidden, intimacy.

I await for you to continue, questioning you with raised brow as I look into

your blue-gray orbs, not wanting to drown, yet, in those abyss. But I did,

I always do.

"You left this," and hands me a gold material.

I reach out, a fleeting moment of contact with your left fingers on my right

palm. A fleeting caress, but already more than enough to keep me afloat

throughout the day.

"And," a pause, "thank you for the tea." A small smile.

I was unable to speak. I, instead, gave my best smile and left.

The next thing I knew, I'm back behind those screen doors. Again, I

estimate the distance between us.

A breath apart. Or maybe less.

owari

***