But I Naught
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Momiji loved him. Entirely. With every complacent corner of her gentle heart, did she care so much about him. Momiji hated him too. Almost all the time. Disappearing, reappearing, acting as if the world revolved around laid back summer days and brightening music of the Japanese breeze. Her soft excoriate was covered by the draping emerald blanket clutched in her palms, nuzzling the softness to brave the discomfort of her heart.
Maybe it was all for me...
He had worried her. Each time he fought, each time he went out alone and gone away for weeks at a time, each time he touched her cheek softly, caressing them with his masculine digits, reassuring her that he would return to her... perhaps hold her in his arms... something she craved now than any other time.
All for me.
Selfish was what she thought of herself. Greedy was the word. She had degraded her name of "Maple", and even the steady sun shunned her. There was nowhere to hide from herself except the source of her hope, nothing to comfort her now but her reason, no complete escape from the relentless doubt she caved in upon herself, the unyielding agonizing futility that pecked at the very thread of her wretched core of her tired soul.
Me, me, me. I'm the one who loves him... and no one else.
All she could do was bury herself in the one thing that sustained her. Focus on it until it became a small shimmering point of infinity... and possess it. And the pain that trailed along, it gnawed inhumanely at her insides, and she cried out in shame. She cried out for her salvation. She cried out to end the hurting. She cried out to be cleansed. She was the Kushinada.
And maybe... I do it all for him.
The tears staggered across her frenzied visage. The blue mitama began to glow and enlighten her soul... he would be back soon... to save her... to hold her... to reassure her. Momiji's fingers brushed over her lips as a wry laugh bubbled out... her head fell forward as her eyes draped shut. The windows suddenly broke loose into a scattered mess around her bedroom, slicing across her face as if several blades were the assasins. The crimson liquid dribbled expectedly down her face, mixing with the salt-saturated tears.
And for Kunikida-Sama...Takeuchi-Sama.... and the rest of the TAC.
The Aragami appeared in a more horrid figure, convulsing and throbbing as life gushed through its veins. It sensed her confusion and distress. She ignored the pain, calling for help frantically as the Aragami squirmed closer. It took hold of the princess carefully with it entrails of vines and vegitation, then, tightened its grip as to almost crush her, rubbing across her cheek a frail but blood-caked vine which sprouted that of a human eyesocket and eye. She began coughing up her blood, the most distasteful flavor filling her mouth.
I'm not like that... not selfish... not greedy...
The others called out her name, she could taste the salty bloody mixture that had slid down across her tiers. Gunshots were taken off and screams of pain were cut off with threatening gushes of thuds and thumps of the bodies. She couldn't see nor breathe any longer.
I am Momiji Fujimiya... I do it because I love them...
The grip so-suddenly as it came, eroded from around her. Vision blurry, she could recognize the figure, the smell, the soothing voice. She knew he wouldn't let her down. ...So now, she could rest, knowing it was alright. It was always alright. He always came back to her. Eyes closed and a bloody mix collected on floorboard she laid upon.
Because I do love him.
--------------------
Momiji loved him. Entirely. With every complacent corner of her gentle heart, did she care so much about him. Momiji hated him too. Almost all the time. Disappearing, reappearing, acting as if the world revolved around laid back summer days and brightening music of the Japanese breeze. Her soft excoriate was covered by the draping emerald blanket clutched in her palms, nuzzling the softness to brave the discomfort of her heart.
Maybe it was all for me...
He had worried her. Each time he fought, each time he went out alone and gone away for weeks at a time, each time he touched her cheek softly, caressing them with his masculine digits, reassuring her that he would return to her... perhaps hold her in his arms... something she craved now than any other time.
All for me.
Selfish was what she thought of herself. Greedy was the word. She had degraded her name of "Maple", and even the steady sun shunned her. There was nowhere to hide from herself except the source of her hope, nothing to comfort her now but her reason, no complete escape from the relentless doubt she caved in upon herself, the unyielding agonizing futility that pecked at the very thread of her wretched core of her tired soul.
Me, me, me. I'm the one who loves him... and no one else.
All she could do was bury herself in the one thing that sustained her. Focus on it until it became a small shimmering point of infinity... and possess it. And the pain that trailed along, it gnawed inhumanely at her insides, and she cried out in shame. She cried out for her salvation. She cried out to end the hurting. She cried out to be cleansed. She was the Kushinada.
And maybe... I do it all for him.
The tears staggered across her frenzied visage. The blue mitama began to glow and enlighten her soul... he would be back soon... to save her... to hold her... to reassure her. Momiji's fingers brushed over her lips as a wry laugh bubbled out... her head fell forward as her eyes draped shut. The windows suddenly broke loose into a scattered mess around her bedroom, slicing across her face as if several blades were the assasins. The crimson liquid dribbled expectedly down her face, mixing with the salt-saturated tears.
And for Kunikida-Sama...Takeuchi-Sama.... and the rest of the TAC.
The Aragami appeared in a more horrid figure, convulsing and throbbing as life gushed through its veins. It sensed her confusion and distress. She ignored the pain, calling for help frantically as the Aragami squirmed closer. It took hold of the princess carefully with it entrails of vines and vegitation, then, tightened its grip as to almost crush her, rubbing across her cheek a frail but blood-caked vine which sprouted that of a human eyesocket and eye. She began coughing up her blood, the most distasteful flavor filling her mouth.
I'm not like that... not selfish... not greedy...
The others called out her name, she could taste the salty bloody mixture that had slid down across her tiers. Gunshots were taken off and screams of pain were cut off with threatening gushes of thuds and thumps of the bodies. She couldn't see nor breathe any longer.
I am Momiji Fujimiya... I do it because I love them...
The grip so-suddenly as it came, eroded from around her. Vision blurry, she could recognize the figure, the smell, the soothing voice. She knew he wouldn't let her down. ...So now, she could rest, knowing it was alright. It was always alright. He always came back to her. Eyes closed and a bloody mix collected on floorboard she laid upon.
Because I do love him.
