Read. Plain and simple.
Title: Conflicted Silence
Rating: Teen
Characters: Kyuuzou, Kirara, because I like them and think its an interesting idea for a pair.
Disclaimer: I don't own characters, they are the product of an amazing anime based off an interesting movie. The text is mine so please DON'T COPY IT. Seriously, write your own stuff…
Summary: Water and Fire. Love and Hate. These are the things which drive them. He is an inferno, and she is an ocean. But sometimes, things can be forgotten. Kyuzo x Kirara
Water and Fire.
Love and Hate.
These are the things which drive them.
Complete opposites in every way, showing that the saying of opposite attraction is false. At least, it is to the eyes of those around them it is. They don't see the smirks, so uncommon for her face, when no one is around. Nor do they notice the vibrating of his swords in anticipation for something besides red blood.
Red Eyes…
No one knows.
Because he is already too stealthy for his own good, and she has proven that no matter what the situation she can adapt. She can be just as silent, and in this endeavor she does…should…needs, to be quiet. Because the bloody brawls, the thugs, and close to death fights of the city from so long ago are nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to him.
He is blood. He is death. It's his calling and his life. She can see it in his eyes, and she can tell it in his voice. She knows he is tainted, but so is she.
Her water has told her so many times. She has been corrupted by emotions she should not have. She's embraced the fire, and it's a flame which her life sustaining liquid can not extinguish.
It warned her that day, when the one she believed she loved fought with him. At the time she had listened. Her hate was true, for the red one had threatened her soldier and was vexing in every behavior. In her eyes he was the ideal model for any egotistic man. So what if he didn't hit a man in the back?
It proved nothing.
But the days passed, and the voice of caution faded away as the fire went from ash to sparks to flame. As the red appeared more and more. The sacred water doused the heat, and halted its enemy, but all flames spread. Thus, the water's song vanished the day its priestess willing mended its enemy.
The day the Tainted protected the Blessed, and the Bessed healed the Tainted. The water ceased its warning than, for the path of the divine had been forsaken.
She had felt it when she began to trust him. It was chill down her spine, and she knew her time as a priestess would end if she continued down the way emotions led her. His thanks though, gruff and seemingly unattached, held much more in it than it seemed. The gaze which came with it, as the others left them alone, was smoldering, and she realized why her eyes couldn't leave his retreating form.
Because her curiousity flared.
Still, she follows her set destiny, despite the difficulty to control her powers as they fight against her. She remains a blessed one for her village to give them hope, and hides her reality from the shame it would bring to her family.
And she waits for the moments of conflicted silence.
He too has changed, though it doesn't appear so. He still bides his time for this war to end, so he may face his opponent. He struggles to find an adversary worth battling, and in the old soldier in white finds one. He trains unwilling men to fight, and at first finds it useless. They are a determined lot though, and gaze to the rivers and streams for inspiration. So they learn.
He is not like them. He is a trained warrior, built to end lives in solitude. So his patience, despite being steadfast and better than any normal man's, reaches its limit. When it does he sends them to shoot their bows by themselves and vanishes.
He is a fighter, an eternal flame, never meant to falter in his passion. His rare two sword style, with its deadliness and grace, is proof enough. When he finds something he wants, something worth his time, he pursues.
Thus why he is in this village of farmers, miniscule and unimportant in the world., thus, why he begins to relax slightly as their enthusiasm slowly sinks in to the samurai around them. He does not voice his opinions, has never found the reason to and never will. He simply carries them out with precision and unrivaled accuracy. Those of Kanna around him learn this, including her.
On that day when they traveled and he went to strike down the enemy she had stopped him. Had the audicity to tell him to move on. He knew they would come back, but said nothing. When they returned, as he knew they would, he simply did what he first intended and destroyed them. Still, she had defied him and she gained his attention.
Her concern for a pathetic injury was annoying to say the least, as was her stare the rest of the travel. But as was his nature, he said nothing. At least until they had reached their destination. Their blonde companion had made a nonchalant comment on the tear in his cloak, and the girl jumped on the opportunity. If it would stop her irritating behavior he didn't care. Besides, he was fond of his cloak.
So they sat, the two if them, in silence as she mended his garment. She said nothing for the first time since beginning to travel. It had been a welcome change, and as his gaze swept over the canyons below he let the view of the world relax him in the slightest.
It was over in an instance as she handed him back his cloak. He thanked her in his way and gazed at her as he took his garment, eyes trailing over her in interest.
Because she caught his notice.
In the moments he can take no more of the insistent babble of the villagers he tries to bear. He moves with the people and trains them for the white warrior and watches everything with a calculating mind, as if he is no different than before. He hides his weakness.
And he waits for the moments of conflicted silence.
Their secret is one none would ever expect nor is it one they wish to disclose. It's why in moments when personal battles have become tedious and everyone else seems too much, each retreats to a mutual sanctuary.
A place past the trees, through the underbrush, and down an invisible path which lies beside the roaring waterfall. Hidden beneath the torrents of her guardian element, and the enemy of his flame, they find peace in an oasis deep within the mountain side.
She goes there because she is a Mikumura and there is no place more calming than her element at its finest. He goes there because he is an inferno and the rushing blue almost calms his red rage. They go there because there is no signal, no set time, and no sign, yet, somehow, the other will always be waiting.
When they are together their ideals battle within their minds.
When they are together their hate for the other's lifestyle flares.
When they are together every moment is a conflict.
Yet when they are together the rest of the world seems to fade. There is the roaring of falls and the intensity of their gazes. There is a conflicted silence in the beginning of every meeting, but as moments past the tension fades away. And they breathe.
She is tainted thanks to his bloodied hands, too purtrid for her being.
He is weakened thanks to her unwavering purity, too naive for his presence.
They create the flaws in each other and thus become a perfect set. It's simple. They fit together as if puzzle pieces, and create a new existence.
They are opposites and the world doesn't suspect. It doesn't notice the glitter in eyes which have seen death for years, oddly craving not to end a life. Her life. It doesn't notice the darkness in eyes which have been innocent from reality forever, now yearning for the truth. His truth.
They're not meant for each other. They will not last...
They do not care.
For they create chaos whenever they see each other, yet they enjoy every moment as hands touch and struggles arise against two opposites.
She has found a warrior to study. He has found a new kind of opponent.
They have found a conflict which would rage if they did not keep it silent. They've found each other and their secret is their sanctuary.
Fire and Water.
Love and Hate.
These are the things which are them.
There is no difference…
Mikumura translates to water priestess.
Love it, hate it, please let me know…
Yoru