Disclaimer: of course I own nothing but this title and the
plot...unfortunately...*stares at Nakago longingly and is rightfully chi
blasted*
He looked at the floor reflectively. He stared at the shine the light gave it, at the wood grain, at its dark color. Then he stood and brought his arms through the sleeves of the suit jacket and made towards the door still not lifting his eyes. His cat followed him most of the way then stopped and stood staring at him licking it's paws meditatively. He left going out into the troublesome world every one wanted to escape. Deciding to walk he strode down the sidewalk breathing in the autumn air, it's cold crisp-ness making him want to sneeze. He watched other people sauntering off to work, still trying to come up with excuses to get the day off to spend with their families. He had no reason to complain work was all he really had except for jiro his cat. Well, he had the memories too but those he had against his own will. He didn't want them; he didn't want to remember how conceded, how monstrous he had been in his past. Something no one but him could and should remember. Though he still prayed every night he might run into his secret beloved and say how sorry he was to have hurt her, how he had drove her so insane over whether he loved her or not that she had wasted her life for his. He truly was a monster, everything they had claimed him to be. Tenkou was right to call him a traitor, a disgrace to his heritage...why on earth did Seiryu want him? He let out a small laugh, he knew why...he had the ability to control the power Seiryu had granted him...not that he wanted it...Seiryu knew that his thirst for revenge would give him the ability to hold on to the power...just long enough to kill one man.... He was at the bus stop he was tired of walking and crept under the small gazebo like structure escaping the humid air. It was fairly dim; all he could make out was some figure sitting on the bench. What was really strange though was that he felt his senses...twinging (for lack of a better word) as they had before when he had his powers. He shook it off however, and stared out across the street at the child walking his dog. Soon, the loud rumbling was heard that signified the bus and he stood up his full height and clambered aboard the obtrusive structure. It was once he was on the bus and seated that he was able to make the assumption of why his "seishi sense" had gone off. The girl who got on after him had long deep red hair and amber eyes that could melt the steeliest of hearts. He realized that he was gawking and soon went back to his usual stoic ways, but he couldn't keep his eyes focused on the wall for long. She wore a brown scarf and a long brown leather coat. She had a small black purse with a prada emblem on it. She looked on her way to the city whether it was for work or enjoyment he couldn't tell. He shook his head gently realizing it couldn't be who he so wantingly wanted it to be, and even if it was she wouldn't remember who he was, which he felt rather happy about. 'Her life is better not remembering me' he concluded thoughtfully, and turned to the window turning his back on the woman of his imagination.
He looked at the floor reflectively. He stared at the shine the light gave it, at the wood grain, at its dark color. Then he stood and brought his arms through the sleeves of the suit jacket and made towards the door still not lifting his eyes. His cat followed him most of the way then stopped and stood staring at him licking it's paws meditatively. He left going out into the troublesome world every one wanted to escape. Deciding to walk he strode down the sidewalk breathing in the autumn air, it's cold crisp-ness making him want to sneeze. He watched other people sauntering off to work, still trying to come up with excuses to get the day off to spend with their families. He had no reason to complain work was all he really had except for jiro his cat. Well, he had the memories too but those he had against his own will. He didn't want them; he didn't want to remember how conceded, how monstrous he had been in his past. Something no one but him could and should remember. Though he still prayed every night he might run into his secret beloved and say how sorry he was to have hurt her, how he had drove her so insane over whether he loved her or not that she had wasted her life for his. He truly was a monster, everything they had claimed him to be. Tenkou was right to call him a traitor, a disgrace to his heritage...why on earth did Seiryu want him? He let out a small laugh, he knew why...he had the ability to control the power Seiryu had granted him...not that he wanted it...Seiryu knew that his thirst for revenge would give him the ability to hold on to the power...just long enough to kill one man.... He was at the bus stop he was tired of walking and crept under the small gazebo like structure escaping the humid air. It was fairly dim; all he could make out was some figure sitting on the bench. What was really strange though was that he felt his senses...twinging (for lack of a better word) as they had before when he had his powers. He shook it off however, and stared out across the street at the child walking his dog. Soon, the loud rumbling was heard that signified the bus and he stood up his full height and clambered aboard the obtrusive structure. It was once he was on the bus and seated that he was able to make the assumption of why his "seishi sense" had gone off. The girl who got on after him had long deep red hair and amber eyes that could melt the steeliest of hearts. He realized that he was gawking and soon went back to his usual stoic ways, but he couldn't keep his eyes focused on the wall for long. She wore a brown scarf and a long brown leather coat. She had a small black purse with a prada emblem on it. She looked on her way to the city whether it was for work or enjoyment he couldn't tell. He shook his head gently realizing it couldn't be who he so wantingly wanted it to be, and even if it was she wouldn't remember who he was, which he felt rather happy about. 'Her life is better not remembering me' he concluded thoughtfully, and turned to the window turning his back on the woman of his imagination.