A/N: Hello, this is just a little oneshot I was inspired to write. It's a little strange, but I like it anyways. I'm sorry I haven't gotten an update for Acting Out, but hopefully I'll have an update out for the holidays. Please let me know what you think of this little story. Reviews mean a lot, especially to an author who is struggling a little with her stories.
Serenity-hime
The Falling Rain
He walked along the old road, kicking up small puffs of dust with each step. The sun was beating down with its usual harshness, causing the sparse grass along the track to bend back under its unrelenting glare. Even the trees seemed to droop these days, and the people had been praying for rain for months. Many had stopped lighting any sort of fires, out of fear that one stray spark might light up a fire that would consume them all. He was carrying heavy jugs of water that he had filled at a stream not too far from his own home, bringing back what he could to help ease the drought in his village.
The wind picked up, swirling dust around him, causing him to cough. He squinted against the mini cyclone that blew past him, spraying dust everywhere, adding a layer of grime to his exposed skin. When the wind passed, he managed to open his eyes enough to see in front of him. A few feet ahead on the small dirt road, he saw her, unmoving on the ground. Without hesitating he set down his burden and ran to her.
A beautiful woman lay in the middle of the track, seemingly untouched by the dirt around her. Her long golden hair tumbled freely about her, making pools of what seemed like liquid gold all around her fragile form. For a brief moment his eyes flicked to that unusual golden hair; hair unlike any he had ever seen in his life. Slender, creamy white arms were splayed somewhere in that mass of gold, but they were not his concern. Currently the back of her gorgeous, soft-looking white dress that was trimmed in a beautiful gold color was turning a bright crimson. There were two large tears in the back of her dress, through which he could see deep gashes oozing blood.
For a moment he glanced back at the waiting jugs along the roadside. There was a flash of regret, knowing how much they needed whatever water he could bring, but instead he scooped up this unconscious maiden in his arms, and started running towards the village as fast as his feet would take him.
When he was almost there, he looked down to see sluggish blue eyes peering up at him, half closed and almost glazed over. She had the face of an angel, heart-shaped with big eyes and small, soft lips. Her face was somewhat twisted with pain, but she was beautiful. Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper.
"What am I doing here?" He shook his head, raising his eyes to the road ahead.
"I don't know. I found you in the road. You're bleeding." Her eyes grew wide, and she shivered in his arms.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Mamoru." Her eyelids were drooping, and she barely nodded.
"I am called Usagi." Once again her head slumped against his chest and he ran on.
"She should be fine, with rest. I managed to clean and sew together the wounds, and as long as they're kept clean they should heal well." The doctor set down a bloody rag, shaking his head. "I have to tell you, I don't think I've ever seen wounds quite like these. They look like two portions of her back were just torn away. And her hair…" he trailed off and the two of them turned to look as she stirred, a soft moan escaping her. The doctor hurried over to check on her, and Mamoru watched from the doorway.
The doctor helped her to roll over on her side from her stomach. He cautioned her quietly to not sit up, but she tried anyways and sank back down to the table with a groan. She whispered something to the doctor and he hurried off, leaving the two of them alone. The girl twisted around so she could look over at him, her golden hair spilling off of the table and onto the floor. She beckoned for him to come in, and he walked over to sit in a chair across from her. For a while, they sat in silence, her striking blue eyes meeting his with a surprising intensity for someone who was just waking up from that sort of trauma. As if reading his mind, she spoke softly, her gentle voice hardly making it to him.
"My injuries are not as severe as you might believe, but I am incredibly grateful for your help. I will do anything within my power to repay you in any way you require." Her voice was light and musical; it reminded him of birds singing in the spring. There was a deep moment as he studied her, considering her offer, which honestly felt more like a request. When he spoke, his voice was low and unsteady.
"Can you bring back the rain?" She looked at him long and hard before replying.
"What could possibly make you think that I could have any control over the rains? I am no wisewoman, and I cannot call upon the gods for favor."
"But you're an angel." Now she looked startled, and she sat up without so much as a wince. Her voice trembled the smallest bit when she spoke.
"Why would you say something like that?"
"Your hair." He gestured to the rivers of gold flowing over her shoulders, and she reached up to touch a lock of it with a finger. "The stories say that the angels have hair like yours." She shook her head.
"Those are just stories, and you can't put all of your belief into stories told to children at bedtime."
"I have never seen anyone with hair like yours. Besides, what about your wings?" She glanced behind her, and this time simply looked at him with raised eyebrows. He shook his head. "You may not have them now, but how else would you explain those wounds on your back?"
"I was attacked." She wrapped her arms around herself and looked away. Cold suddenly crept over him. "And I don't believe I need to explain myself or the nature of my existence, in any case. I am grateful," she added.
The doctor returned with a ceramic cup half full of with murky water. He held it out to Usagi, making stern noises for her sitting up.
"I apologize for the water. Since the rains have stopped, it is very hard to find any water, especially of the clean variety." She accepted it gratefully, taking small sips. The doctor walked around behind her to check her wounds, and made a strangled noise. Mamoru's head rose sharply and he looked at the doctor, who was looking very concerned at the girl's back.
"Well, your wounds seem to be doing exceptionally well. I don't believe I've ever seen wounds that have done so well after such an ordeal. They haven't even broken open from you sitting up." Usagi nodded.
"I have always been a very fast healer. I get it from my mother's side; all of her people have always healed well from trauma. It's just a blood trait I guess." She shrugged. The doctor shook his head, walking back around.
"In that case, I believe you're free to go. Keep your wounds clean, and don't remove the stitching until it's fully closed." The doctor shook his head, staring at her for another minute. He held up a hand and left the room, reappearing shortly with a simple blue dress. Usagi took it from his outstretched hands, looking puzzled. "It's an old dress. It belonged to my wife before the fever took her. You don't want to go walking around in a ragged, bloody dress."
"Thank you very much for your kindness." She looked pointedly at Mamoru, and the two men left the room so she could change.
As Mamoru was leaving, she caught up with him, moving with a surprising grace despite her injuries. He looked over at her as they walked, headed back to where he had left his jugs of water. There had been no invitation for her to come with him, but she simply walked beside him anyways.
For a while they walked in silence down the road. Her feet were gliding along the ground, not making any noise in the hard-packed earth. The sunlight caught in her hair, glittering off of it as she stares straight ahead.
"So, if you're not an angel, where do you come from?" She looked sideways at him.
"I come from a place very far from here." He smiled wryly.
"Very far from here, eh? I haven't heard of a place named as such before." She shook her head. "Alright, if you won't tell me where you're from, maybe you'll tell me why you're here, of all places?" A frown crossed her face.
"I was exiled from my home, and this is where I wound up. This is where they left me to die alone." He stopped, staring at her as she walked forward a few steps. All he could see was her back, and he quivering shoulders. Something was creeping up inside, some emotion gripping his heart that he couldn't quite name.
"Why were you exiled?" Silence stretched into eternity.
"I committed one of the unforgivable sins of my people." As she turned to face him, unshed tears brimmed in her eyes and he bore witness to an ancient, terrible pain in those eyes. Her voice came out in a husky whisper. "I fell in love."
That dark, awful feeling that had been slowly seeping in clutched at his heart with an iron grip. It took an effort not to grasp his chest as she turned away. He felt lost and confused. Why was he feeling this way? Surely he felt sympathy for her being thrown from her home for something so basic, so essential, but this was overpowering. Hours ago he hadn't even known she existed, so why was he so affected by her? Somewhere inside, a part of him acknowledged and understood, but he didn't hear it. Instead, he caught his breath and walked over to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"I think you need a good meal and some rest. Come with me, and you will share my food and sleep beneath my roof tonight." Now it was his turn to continue on while she stared at his back before hurrying to catch up with him.
"I couldn't possibly–"
"You don't have anywhere to go, right? You don't know anyone here?"
"Well no, but–"
"Then you will have dinner and sleep at my house. Should you wish to argue about your arrangements tomorrow, you may argue them tomorrow."
Surprisingly, she raised no further protest. She nodded, and they walked the short distance to where his jugs still sat in the road untouched. He scooped them up, and they returned to the town mostly in silence.
As they entered the town, many people stopped what they were doing and simply stared. Mamoru looked at her from the corner of his eye, but she didn't seem to notice the stares. She was looking around at all of the buildings, a smile lighting up her face. As they approached his first destination, he turned to her.
"If you could, please wait outside here. I just need to give some water to the lady of the house here – her husband is very ill and generally I am the only one who goes inside, for health reasons." She nodded silently, and waited outside as he rapped on the door, and then stepped inside without waiting for a response. Once he had poured half a jug for the elderly couple, he stepped back outside into the bright sunlight, blinking at what he saw.
Usagi was surrounded by five of the town's children, who were all looking up at her in awe. She was smiling at them, and answering the many questions they were firing up at her in a patient, kind voice. One bold young girl had even reached out to touch her soft golden hair, and was stroking it with a kind of deep reverence. He watched from the doorway as she leaned down to tousle the hair of one of the boys before turning to acknowledge him. When they left to go to the next house, the children followed her, milling around at her feet as she walked. Her laughter rung out across the village along with that of the children.
The day continued in that fashion – each stop added a few more children until when they were finally done, a fair group had gathered. She had started telling them stories while they waited outside, weaving fanciful tales for them to enjoy. Mamoru couldn't help but realize how well she worked with the children. Even the quieter, more reserved ones were running along beside her, laughing and playing. He felt something touch his heart softly, and he smiled. Despite her claims of being from far, far away, she almost seemed at home here.
Eventually they had to part from the children as the sun had almost disappeared from the sky, and the children were all being sought after by their parents for dinner. Mamoru directed Usagi to his home, where he invited her in. He prepared a small, modest dinner of some tough vegetables and a paltry portion of meat. Their meal was mostly silent, with her staring down at her plate and him looking up to sneak glances every now and then.
Afterwards, he set up a pallet for her in the front room. Gratefully she sank down onto it, covering herself with a soft fur blanket. He stood for a moment, watching her curl up beneath the covers, before turning to go to sleep himself. They had hardly spoken since arriving at his house, and it left him with an odd taste in his mouth. As he slipped into unconsciousness, the last fleeting thought he had was a desperate hope that she would still be there in the morning.
And she was. In the morning they rose and made breakfast. Usagi bustled around his kitchen, intent on making breakfast to help her earn her keep, as she put it. After their plates were emptied, she cleared her throat delicately to get his attention. He looked up, and his eyes met her intense blues.
"Mamoru, I want to thank you for taking care of me. You rescued me, had my injuries repaired, gave me food and shelter, and showed me around this delightful little village. I don't know how I could ever repay you for the unconditional kindness that you have shown to a complete stranger such as me. But I do know that I do not want to burden you further." She stood up, her long hair cascading down her shoulders. A sad, pained look flitted across her face, gone as quickly as it had appeared. "I will take my leave."
For a long moment he simply stared at her as she stood above him from the other end of the table, eyes bright, defiant, and very sad. It was an odd combination, but deep down a part of him understood. A chuckled welled up from deep in his chest, and he shook his head. He stood as she stared at him, clearing away their plates. He gestured for her to follow, and they headed outside into the bright morning sun. A ring of children were already waiting, surrounding the area before Mamoru's doorway. After smiles and good mornings he turned back towards Usagi, whose eyes brimmed with unshed tears; of sadness or joy he did not know.
"I think not. You are welcome to go, should you gain the courage, but I somehow think you have already ingrained yourself here far deeper than you could ever imagine. You may stay under my roof as long as you wish, or until a house can be built for you. I have work to do, and will return at the end of the day. I hope I will see you then." He smiled at her, and turned to walk away as the children surrounded her with questions and exclamations.
And so it came to pass that Usagi stayed in the village, and she began to care for the children. The parents of the village were more than happy to have someone entertain them and play with them during the day, as Usagi's presence seemed to encourage them to stay away from trouble, and she was always around to keep an eye on them. She told them fabulous stories of far away lands. She spoke of realms of magic and enchantment, tales of princes and princesses. The children loved her dearly, and she came to care for them very much.
She stayed with Mamoru, despite her daily protests at him sharing his roof and food with her. Every morning she would tell him she was finding another place to stay, and every time he chuckled and told her he would see her that evening. Usagi did her best to clean and cook, and do anything she could to contribute, but still she told him every day that she would leave. As the days passed, he felt more and more assured that she would be there every night when he returned from his labors.
Fondness grew in Mamoru's heart, as feelings are wont to do in such situations. With every day he realized that from that first moment when he saw her in the road, something had been growing inside of him. He dared not admit it to himself, much less aloud or to her, but he felt a little sadder each day when they parted, and a little happier when he returned home to find her standing in his kitchen, cooking up a storm. Joy blossomed in his heart when he saw her smiling face, when he caught glimpses of her leading the children around the village.
He harbored his secret, holding it back lest he frighten her away. In time, maybe she would come to feel the same way about him, but until then he knew he must keep those feelings to himself. Meanwhile, he allowed himself small fancies, imagining that she would sometimes linger near him, or that he would catch her staring at him from the corners of his eyes. A hope was born, one that he did his best to quash, unsuccessfully.
One afternoon it finally happened. He was helping her harvest vegetables for dinner from the small garden behind his house, the two of them laughing over how one of the town's boys had gotten into trouble earlier that day. They were digging up some small, hard potatoes when they both reached for the same one. Their hands touched, and they both stopped for a moment before his hand reflexively closed around hers. Her eyes were fastened on their hands as he turned towards her, and before he even began to speak he saw the moisture forming in her eyes.
"Usagi." She shook her head and pulled her hand away as if burned. She stumbled backward as he reached out to her, the tears overflowing. He let his hand fall. "Usagi, I-"
"No."
"Usagi-"
"No!" Her whole body was shaking, and she was cradling her hand to her chest as though she were trying to protect it. He reached for her again, his hands engulfing her frail shoulders, and she didn't pull away. Despite the tears, her despairing blue eyes met his unfalteringly.
"I can't help this. You know I can't, and you've known it all along. I can see that now, as clear as the skies. I know that you wouldn't still linger here unless you felt the same way. Why are you hiding from this?"
"I…I cannot do this. This can't happen." He stepped closer to her, and she flinched, but still didn't pull away. He tenderly reached up to brush that beautiful golden hair away from her face, and the light of the setting sun caressed her skin.
"Why not?" For the first time, she tore her eyes away from him, jerking her face away from his hand.
"I can't answer that." As gently as he could manage, he grasped her chin with his hand and turned her face towards his. Time slowed down around them as he leaned toward her, her eyes half closed. His heartbeat quickened as he felt her breath upon his face, light and sweet. At the last possible moment, she ducked to the side, pulling him close as her lips brushed against his ear, her voice soft and quivering.
"It was you. I fell from grace, I was exiled, I was thrown from all that I knew, and it was all because I fell in love with you." Memories flitted through his mind, and his throat tightened. An echo resounded through his mind of that first day, when she told him that she had fallen in love. The knife that had been embedded deep within his heart suddenly tore free as she pulled away from his ear, and with tears sliding freely down her face in a mixed expression of elation and anguish, she plunged forward and sealed her lips against his.
It was as if all of the light in the world gathered around them in a brilliant flash, and it radiated joy throughout him, down to the very core of his being. He felt cleansed, as if all of the sadness and pain of his entire life were washed away in that single moment. As they parted, a soft sigh escaped her, and the light faded. Before him was a vision of beauty – a golden angel in white and gold gossamer, with that glorious flowing hair. Stretching out behind her were the most brilliant, magnificent white and gold feathered wings.
Astonishment overwhelmed him as she pulled back, a small, sad smile lighting her face. She cupped his face gently with one of her delicate hands, and he searched for words that wouldn't come. Everything he ever wanted was right here, and he was at a complete loss for words. She closed her eyes and nodded, and the small hands on his face began to glow with a soft gold light. The world seemed to darken around that glow, and it filled his vision. When it cleared she was standing there smiling at him, but she no longer seemed as sad. Her voice came out in deep, silky tones.
"It was the least I could do."
Without pause, he stepped forward and embraced her gently, feeling her arms slide around him as he bent down to kiss her forehead. Before he could speak, he heard the exclamation of children out on the street, and the laughter of many small voices. When he turned to look towards the street, he felt something soft land on his cheek. He raised a hand to wipe it away, when he realized it was wet. Slowly he pulled his hand away to find clear, pure liquid on his fingers. As he held her to him, her musical laughter rising around him, he looked up and saw the clouds roll in and the rain began to fall.
A/N: Yes, there was a lot that was purposefully left out of this story. I think it adds a little something to it :) Please, please review.
