Revelation
Standard disclaimers apply. Don't ask me why the theme suddenly went Catholic, I can't answer you that o_0 Now, I know Japan mostly is around Buddhism or the Shinto's when it comes to religion and philosophy, but I can't deny the fact that I'm Catholic. And God knows I know nothing about other religions. Poor excuse, I know -_-;
Chapter 1: Fate
Confiteor Deo Omnipotenti…
Beatae Mariae semper Virgini…
Beato Michaeli archangelo…
Sanctis apostolis omnibus sanctis…
The calm, mystifying sound of gentle hymns awoke her from her deep sleep, bringing a pale, trembling hand to hold her pained body. She touched the smooth material that was wrapped around her head, contemplating on what might have caused her to be where she was. She felt the softness of fabric beneath her slim body, finding her hand gently caressing the warm covers. She couldn't clearly remember what had happened, but she was injured and wounded, finding both her hands and a few more parts of her body wrapped in the same material that was on her head.
She adjusted her eyes to the dim, crimson light that flickered from the oil lamp that lay on the wooden table beside her bed, welcoming the warmth that went with its presence. She found herself staring at the intoxicating flames as they danced inside the clear glass, bringing her mind at rest. She sat there in complete silence. As seconds ticked by, the sudden thought of her task flashed in her mind, only to be interrupted as she heard soft, careful steps coming her way.
"Ah, I see you are awake," the deep, soothing voice came from behind the wooden door, followed by the sight of an old, kind-faced man clad in a heavy tan robe, a small cross placed in his hand. She suddenly thought of a few Christian sanctuaries from which she had read from a book that contained such people. Was that where she was?
The old man watched her with kindly patience as she started to look around. Finally, her eyes rested on the man's, finding the gaze warm and welcoming. If only she wasn't afraid, she would almost smile back. Almost. "Where am I?" she asked with all the respect and courtesy she could muster. Her voice betrayed her the calmness and solidity she wanted to let out, only to come out as that of a trembling, vulnerable child. And perhaps, in this place, that was what she was.
She watched the old man's lips curl up in a small smile, the soothing warmth of his eyes never leaving his gaze. "You are in a monastery above the mountains," he explained, eyes never flinching even as the girl's own widened at that revelation. "We don't know how you got to the very top, but we found you unconscious and badly injured a few distance from here so we decided to take you in."
Her eyes lowered at that thought. She had heard of these monasteries, they were rested atop mountains and it was a great challenge to climb up to it. Those only who are strong at will and faith were able to climb up unharmed. It would be hard to explain to them how she got up, especially in her tight kimono. Any alibi would be seen through the impossibility of the action. She just hoped they wouldn't ask.
After what seemed like hours of silence and utter staring, the old man nodded his head. "We shall not ask of your story if you do not wish, we respect your privacy."
She let out a grateful smile at that, nodding her head meekly as the old man smiled back. He turned his back to her and headed for the door. "I shall be bringing an apprentice to you and have him give you all that you need. God bless you, child."
She watched the old monk leave, his steps dying down behind the thick walls of her room. She was not quite accustomed to other religions except those that were common in Japan, but it didn't bother her. The people in that place seem kind enough to take her in, and she could only thank them for their kindness. She found herself getting back to bed, her body relaxing to its soft comfort.
She closed her eyes, the flash of remembrance appearing in her mind once again. The task at hand, the tears of her friends. She couldn't stand to see them weep, and so she went away without telling them. She tried to look for him, but who knows why she landed in that place. She didn't believe in fate, only in coincidence, and she doubted he was there in the first place. The only thing she could remember was a dreadful storm that almost cost her more than she could have bargained for.
Her earlier thoughts were interrupted as the soft sound of another company came her way. She looked beneath the covers to see who it was, only to see a man clothed in the same robe the monk was wearing a while ago, she believe he was the apprentice the monk had told her of. Only this time, the figure wasn't old, the hands that held the silver tray were long and smooth, unlike the old man's, which were wrinkled and weak. The young man's were evidently strong, moving with an unmasked grace that left her staring.
She watched in silence as he settled the tray on a table opposite her bed. He moved with such beauty and elegance that she found herself unmoving, letting the show of magnificence drown her through his movements. She could only be reminded of one person with the same grace, and she longed to know where that friend was. Longed to be able to look into the joy that his presence would bring to her friends.
As if on cue, the young man pulled down his hood, startling her as the river of crimson locks flooded behind his back. She was dumbfounded as she watched him pull a small band from his pocket, holding up his hair in a fixed bun before he placed back the brown hood.
This time, she couldn't help recognizing him. His grace, his form, and the hair most especially gave him away. There was no more doubt in her mind that she was mistaken. No doubt. It was him. "Kurama…"
Her voice was but a mere whisper, yet she saw him stiffen in place, his hands suddenly finding the edge of the table. She felt the tension that came between them envelop her in an uncomfortable silence. She felt him tremble against the small table, his body leaning in it for what looked like support. She waited for him, her patience paying off as he slowly looked back. She recognized those orbs that could take any female's breath away, the very same ones that can possess such sharpness that could kill. But now, it reflected neither, echoing only that of the shock hers gave away. Her hands trembled once again at the distant gaze that those emerald eyes gave to her. As if he doesn't know her. Or as if he wished he didn't.
It was too much of a coincidence. Maybe it was fate after all.
Et tibit Pater…
Quia peccavi nimis…
Kyrie Eleison…
End of Chapter 1
Standard disclaimers apply. Don't ask me why the theme suddenly went Catholic, I can't answer you that o_0 Now, I know Japan mostly is around Buddhism or the Shinto's when it comes to religion and philosophy, but I can't deny the fact that I'm Catholic. And God knows I know nothing about other religions. Poor excuse, I know -_-;
Chapter 1: Fate
Confiteor Deo Omnipotenti…
Beatae Mariae semper Virgini…
Beato Michaeli archangelo…
Sanctis apostolis omnibus sanctis…
The calm, mystifying sound of gentle hymns awoke her from her deep sleep, bringing a pale, trembling hand to hold her pained body. She touched the smooth material that was wrapped around her head, contemplating on what might have caused her to be where she was. She felt the softness of fabric beneath her slim body, finding her hand gently caressing the warm covers. She couldn't clearly remember what had happened, but she was injured and wounded, finding both her hands and a few more parts of her body wrapped in the same material that was on her head.
She adjusted her eyes to the dim, crimson light that flickered from the oil lamp that lay on the wooden table beside her bed, welcoming the warmth that went with its presence. She found herself staring at the intoxicating flames as they danced inside the clear glass, bringing her mind at rest. She sat there in complete silence. As seconds ticked by, the sudden thought of her task flashed in her mind, only to be interrupted as she heard soft, careful steps coming her way.
"Ah, I see you are awake," the deep, soothing voice came from behind the wooden door, followed by the sight of an old, kind-faced man clad in a heavy tan robe, a small cross placed in his hand. She suddenly thought of a few Christian sanctuaries from which she had read from a book that contained such people. Was that where she was?
The old man watched her with kindly patience as she started to look around. Finally, her eyes rested on the man's, finding the gaze warm and welcoming. If only she wasn't afraid, she would almost smile back. Almost. "Where am I?" she asked with all the respect and courtesy she could muster. Her voice betrayed her the calmness and solidity she wanted to let out, only to come out as that of a trembling, vulnerable child. And perhaps, in this place, that was what she was.
She watched the old man's lips curl up in a small smile, the soothing warmth of his eyes never leaving his gaze. "You are in a monastery above the mountains," he explained, eyes never flinching even as the girl's own widened at that revelation. "We don't know how you got to the very top, but we found you unconscious and badly injured a few distance from here so we decided to take you in."
Her eyes lowered at that thought. She had heard of these monasteries, they were rested atop mountains and it was a great challenge to climb up to it. Those only who are strong at will and faith were able to climb up unharmed. It would be hard to explain to them how she got up, especially in her tight kimono. Any alibi would be seen through the impossibility of the action. She just hoped they wouldn't ask.
After what seemed like hours of silence and utter staring, the old man nodded his head. "We shall not ask of your story if you do not wish, we respect your privacy."
She let out a grateful smile at that, nodding her head meekly as the old man smiled back. He turned his back to her and headed for the door. "I shall be bringing an apprentice to you and have him give you all that you need. God bless you, child."
She watched the old monk leave, his steps dying down behind the thick walls of her room. She was not quite accustomed to other religions except those that were common in Japan, but it didn't bother her. The people in that place seem kind enough to take her in, and she could only thank them for their kindness. She found herself getting back to bed, her body relaxing to its soft comfort.
She closed her eyes, the flash of remembrance appearing in her mind once again. The task at hand, the tears of her friends. She couldn't stand to see them weep, and so she went away without telling them. She tried to look for him, but who knows why she landed in that place. She didn't believe in fate, only in coincidence, and she doubted he was there in the first place. The only thing she could remember was a dreadful storm that almost cost her more than she could have bargained for.
Her earlier thoughts were interrupted as the soft sound of another company came her way. She looked beneath the covers to see who it was, only to see a man clothed in the same robe the monk was wearing a while ago, she believe he was the apprentice the monk had told her of. Only this time, the figure wasn't old, the hands that held the silver tray were long and smooth, unlike the old man's, which were wrinkled and weak. The young man's were evidently strong, moving with an unmasked grace that left her staring.
She watched in silence as he settled the tray on a table opposite her bed. He moved with such beauty and elegance that she found herself unmoving, letting the show of magnificence drown her through his movements. She could only be reminded of one person with the same grace, and she longed to know where that friend was. Longed to be able to look into the joy that his presence would bring to her friends.
As if on cue, the young man pulled down his hood, startling her as the river of crimson locks flooded behind his back. She was dumbfounded as she watched him pull a small band from his pocket, holding up his hair in a fixed bun before he placed back the brown hood.
This time, she couldn't help recognizing him. His grace, his form, and the hair most especially gave him away. There was no more doubt in her mind that she was mistaken. No doubt. It was him. "Kurama…"
Her voice was but a mere whisper, yet she saw him stiffen in place, his hands suddenly finding the edge of the table. She felt the tension that came between them envelop her in an uncomfortable silence. She felt him tremble against the small table, his body leaning in it for what looked like support. She waited for him, her patience paying off as he slowly looked back. She recognized those orbs that could take any female's breath away, the very same ones that can possess such sharpness that could kill. But now, it reflected neither, echoing only that of the shock hers gave away. Her hands trembled once again at the distant gaze that those emerald eyes gave to her. As if he doesn't know her. Or as if he wished he didn't.
It was too much of a coincidence. Maybe it was fate after all.
Et tibit Pater…
Quia peccavi nimis…
Kyrie Eleison…
End of Chapter 1
