Memories
@--,--'--,-'---,-'---,---'---,---------
**God created memories so that we might have roses in December.
~P. G. Wodehouse
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Hey, lad! Yeah, you there! It's closing time! Get outta here!"
Drunkardly, a young man walked out of the bar. He lurched instead of walked, swaying to and fro dangerously. It was already dead in the night, the streets dark, empty and quiet, almost everyone asleep in their beds. The whole place was foreign to the drunkard him. He never had a very good sense of direction, anyway. he just happened to come across the dark and quiet bar, perfect for his present mood. Though he was just about dead drunk, he suprisingly had a pretty clear mind. Finally, sick and tired of wandering around trying to find the place where everyone was waiting for him, he collapsed onto the floor. Well, almost everyone, now that SHE was gone.
He leant against the hard wall of the narrow alley. Suddenly, a voice piped out from within his consciousness: Tasuki, Tasuki, drinking again? God! that really sound like Chichiri lecturing him when he returns dead drunk. He muttered to the freaky voice in his head:"Go away", but it just refused to give up. Once again, it made one of his useless comments,"Drunkness is nothing but voluntary madness.".... talking to himself, the young man replied," yeah, maybe i AM mad...... or else, why would i be hallucinating?" Having no answer to that, the voice in his head kept silent.
Shivering with cold, he curled up into a ball, trying to keep as warm as possible. He was too tired to even use his tessan. It was a cold, cold december night, but then again, which night wasn't cold for this country of Hokkan? Cold days. It reminded him, once again, of the day when she died. That was the coldest day of his life. No matter how much he tried, he will never be able to feel warm completely. Sighing to himself, he tried to block the flow of memories that threatened to overwhelm him. Drunkenness is not a mere matter of intoxicating liquors; it goes deeper, far deeper. Drunkenness is the failure of a man to control his thoughts. Maybe that's true. The memories that he usually surpressed was now fighting back, trying to break through their prison. At times like this, all he wanted to do is to sleep, but that was impossible, with the raging wind blowing round his ears, giving him no peace. Looking up into the sky, he was suprised to find that it was a clear night, the stars plainly seen, like sequins glittering on a piece of dark velvet. But that was not a very good move. All his memories broke through the wall holding them in, flooding his mind, deaf to his struggles and pleas. Of all the signs, her sign, the Hydra shone the brightest on the velvety sky. near to it was the Crater, his own sign, much dimmer.
**There is no greater sorrow than to recall happiness in times of misery.
Nuriko........... Dazedly, he stared at the constellation, tears filling his eyes. Finally, unable to control them anymore, the tears fell freely onto the ground, drop by drop, each glistening like crystals. No matter how he tried, he just couldn't stop. How many times he had cried since she left them...... He really did not want to cry anymore........ Too sick of crying. How he wished she was there beside him, but that was impossible...
Memories of them together played out in his head, like video player playing tapes, but with no stop or pause buttons. There she was.... so beautiful even in men's clothing, that time when he first met her at Mt. Reikaku, trying to save Miaka from him. Then, there was them fighting his fellow bandits... She was so graceful, so strong, even when beating the life outta them. A short laugh escaped his throat. He listened in suprise. was that his voice? That hoarse, bitter voice? He sighed, continuing to wallow in his misery. Whenever he felt lonely and a little intimidated, she was the only one who knew. She knew how much he missed Kouji... the life as a bandit... Mt. Reikaku. She also knew that he felt out of place in the palace, with all its finery, gold and jewels at every turn of his head. That was when they became close friends. They would joke around, teasing each other, beating the crap outta each other, tease miaka, try to cheer her up....
The memories of the time in the palace faded out, to be replaced with a fresh, bitter memory. That was only about two weeks ago... On a snowy mountain, freezing cold. He finally saw her again, only to find that she was dead. He would have sworn that the whole world turned cold, but it was already cold. Denial surfaced in him, but no matter what he said or did, Tamahome still told him the same thing: She is dead. The words echoed round his head, in his bones. the words finally struck home. Unknown to him, he started crying unstoppably. The emotions he always tried to keep out of sight was revealed in the tears that pattered to the snowy floor. He only realized he was crying when Chichiri handed him a hanky.
Unwilling as he was, he didn't try to stop the memory from replaying, for a reason unknown to him. Standing up, he started walking. //Instead of sitting there and freezing to death, I might as well take a walk... to where she is buried. //
~*~
**The bitterest tear shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.
~Voltaire
After about an hour, he reached it. Slowly, he walked over to the big slab of stone that marked the spot where she was buried. Stroking the surface of the stone, he whispered her name. Fresh tears welled up, but he fought them back.
A voice behind him made him look up, and turn around. "Why, I never knew you are such an emotional person."
"?!?"
"Hi again. Haven't seen you for quite some time."
She looked normal. She SOUNDED normal. If she wasn't translucent and much too pale, he would have thought that she was alive.
"I...I missed you, so I came here."
"I know that. I been seeing what you've been up too, laddy. I have one piece of advice: snap outta it! What's the use of being dead drunk?" Seeing that he was silent, she continued. "What you should do is to try and help Miaka!"
Finally getting his nerve back, he retorted:"I'm mourning over you, but you aren't even flattered. Here you are, lecturing me like Chichiri! Can you at least act more like a dead person?"
Quietly, she replied:" Yes, I am flattered. I never knew you cared so much. But now is not the time to mourn!!!! You have to help Miaka! She's Kounan's only hope against Kutou! Without her, Kounan will lose, and poor Hotohori-sama will never be able to take it."
A sick feeling formed in his stomach. A foreign one. Bitterly, he said. "Oh, so it's all for your dearest Hotohori-sama, isn't it? I should have known"
That totally shocked her. "... You've changed so much.... don't you understand, it's for everyone! This is my country, where I was born and raised. I don't want anything to happen to it!"
The bitterness of his words suddenly struck him. Feeling remorseful, he apologized.
She just smiled. "Don't worry 'bout it. Now, I want you to stop drowning ur misery in alcohol, ok? It doesn't work. Trust me. I tried. And don't mourn anymore. This would have to happen to me, sooner or later. Please, just do me a favour and help Miaka as much as you can." she floated closer towards him. Slowly, she materialised, looking more and more like a normal human again. Her feet touched the ground. She walked over to him. Roughly, she pulled him into a tight hug. "I miss you so much too..."
Her light lavander scent filled his nose. "Me too... I wish you never died. Don't leave....please?"
"Silly boy. I have to leave." She reluctantly let go of him, and turned to leave. Yet, she turned back, and bent down in front of him. She kissed him lightly on the lips. "Forget me." With that, she disappeared.
He slumped back against the tombstone. He thought that he heard a faint "nyannyan!", but then again, he might be hallucinating. The kiss DID feel real, though. Touching his lips lightly, he closed his eyes. Almost immediately, he fell into a deep slumber, but not before he whispered one unfinished sentence:" You never knew..... I never told you...."
A few short hours later, daylight broke across the country. In a certain country, the sun shone down weakly at a certain hill covered in snow, on a certain person. On that hill, a patch of bright orange, catching the morning sun's rays, could be seen in the midst of sparkling white. There, Tasuki was asleep, his hands around a tombstone. In his sleep, he whispered something. "I love you......Nuriko"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
**Not the power to remember, but its very opposite, the power to forget, is a necessary condition for our existence.
~St. Basil
@--,--'--,-'---,-'---,---'---,---------
**God created memories so that we might have roses in December.
~P. G. Wodehouse
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Hey, lad! Yeah, you there! It's closing time! Get outta here!"
Drunkardly, a young man walked out of the bar. He lurched instead of walked, swaying to and fro dangerously. It was already dead in the night, the streets dark, empty and quiet, almost everyone asleep in their beds. The whole place was foreign to the drunkard him. He never had a very good sense of direction, anyway. he just happened to come across the dark and quiet bar, perfect for his present mood. Though he was just about dead drunk, he suprisingly had a pretty clear mind. Finally, sick and tired of wandering around trying to find the place where everyone was waiting for him, he collapsed onto the floor. Well, almost everyone, now that SHE was gone.
He leant against the hard wall of the narrow alley. Suddenly, a voice piped out from within his consciousness: Tasuki, Tasuki, drinking again? God! that really sound like Chichiri lecturing him when he returns dead drunk. He muttered to the freaky voice in his head:"Go away", but it just refused to give up. Once again, it made one of his useless comments,"Drunkness is nothing but voluntary madness.".... talking to himself, the young man replied," yeah, maybe i AM mad...... or else, why would i be hallucinating?" Having no answer to that, the voice in his head kept silent.
Shivering with cold, he curled up into a ball, trying to keep as warm as possible. He was too tired to even use his tessan. It was a cold, cold december night, but then again, which night wasn't cold for this country of Hokkan? Cold days. It reminded him, once again, of the day when she died. That was the coldest day of his life. No matter how much he tried, he will never be able to feel warm completely. Sighing to himself, he tried to block the flow of memories that threatened to overwhelm him. Drunkenness is not a mere matter of intoxicating liquors; it goes deeper, far deeper. Drunkenness is the failure of a man to control his thoughts. Maybe that's true. The memories that he usually surpressed was now fighting back, trying to break through their prison. At times like this, all he wanted to do is to sleep, but that was impossible, with the raging wind blowing round his ears, giving him no peace. Looking up into the sky, he was suprised to find that it was a clear night, the stars plainly seen, like sequins glittering on a piece of dark velvet. But that was not a very good move. All his memories broke through the wall holding them in, flooding his mind, deaf to his struggles and pleas. Of all the signs, her sign, the Hydra shone the brightest on the velvety sky. near to it was the Crater, his own sign, much dimmer.
**There is no greater sorrow than to recall happiness in times of misery.
Nuriko........... Dazedly, he stared at the constellation, tears filling his eyes. Finally, unable to control them anymore, the tears fell freely onto the ground, drop by drop, each glistening like crystals. No matter how he tried, he just couldn't stop. How many times he had cried since she left them...... He really did not want to cry anymore........ Too sick of crying. How he wished she was there beside him, but that was impossible...
Memories of them together played out in his head, like video player playing tapes, but with no stop or pause buttons. There she was.... so beautiful even in men's clothing, that time when he first met her at Mt. Reikaku, trying to save Miaka from him. Then, there was them fighting his fellow bandits... She was so graceful, so strong, even when beating the life outta them. A short laugh escaped his throat. He listened in suprise. was that his voice? That hoarse, bitter voice? He sighed, continuing to wallow in his misery. Whenever he felt lonely and a little intimidated, she was the only one who knew. She knew how much he missed Kouji... the life as a bandit... Mt. Reikaku. She also knew that he felt out of place in the palace, with all its finery, gold and jewels at every turn of his head. That was when they became close friends. They would joke around, teasing each other, beating the crap outta each other, tease miaka, try to cheer her up....
The memories of the time in the palace faded out, to be replaced with a fresh, bitter memory. That was only about two weeks ago... On a snowy mountain, freezing cold. He finally saw her again, only to find that she was dead. He would have sworn that the whole world turned cold, but it was already cold. Denial surfaced in him, but no matter what he said or did, Tamahome still told him the same thing: She is dead. The words echoed round his head, in his bones. the words finally struck home. Unknown to him, he started crying unstoppably. The emotions he always tried to keep out of sight was revealed in the tears that pattered to the snowy floor. He only realized he was crying when Chichiri handed him a hanky.
Unwilling as he was, he didn't try to stop the memory from replaying, for a reason unknown to him. Standing up, he started walking. //Instead of sitting there and freezing to death, I might as well take a walk... to where she is buried. //
~*~
**The bitterest tear shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.
~Voltaire
After about an hour, he reached it. Slowly, he walked over to the big slab of stone that marked the spot where she was buried. Stroking the surface of the stone, he whispered her name. Fresh tears welled up, but he fought them back.
A voice behind him made him look up, and turn around. "Why, I never knew you are such an emotional person."
"?!?"
"Hi again. Haven't seen you for quite some time."
She looked normal. She SOUNDED normal. If she wasn't translucent and much too pale, he would have thought that she was alive.
"I...I missed you, so I came here."
"I know that. I been seeing what you've been up too, laddy. I have one piece of advice: snap outta it! What's the use of being dead drunk?" Seeing that he was silent, she continued. "What you should do is to try and help Miaka!"
Finally getting his nerve back, he retorted:"I'm mourning over you, but you aren't even flattered. Here you are, lecturing me like Chichiri! Can you at least act more like a dead person?"
Quietly, she replied:" Yes, I am flattered. I never knew you cared so much. But now is not the time to mourn!!!! You have to help Miaka! She's Kounan's only hope against Kutou! Without her, Kounan will lose, and poor Hotohori-sama will never be able to take it."
A sick feeling formed in his stomach. A foreign one. Bitterly, he said. "Oh, so it's all for your dearest Hotohori-sama, isn't it? I should have known"
That totally shocked her. "... You've changed so much.... don't you understand, it's for everyone! This is my country, where I was born and raised. I don't want anything to happen to it!"
The bitterness of his words suddenly struck him. Feeling remorseful, he apologized.
She just smiled. "Don't worry 'bout it. Now, I want you to stop drowning ur misery in alcohol, ok? It doesn't work. Trust me. I tried. And don't mourn anymore. This would have to happen to me, sooner or later. Please, just do me a favour and help Miaka as much as you can." she floated closer towards him. Slowly, she materialised, looking more and more like a normal human again. Her feet touched the ground. She walked over to him. Roughly, she pulled him into a tight hug. "I miss you so much too..."
Her light lavander scent filled his nose. "Me too... I wish you never died. Don't leave....please?"
"Silly boy. I have to leave." She reluctantly let go of him, and turned to leave. Yet, she turned back, and bent down in front of him. She kissed him lightly on the lips. "Forget me." With that, she disappeared.
He slumped back against the tombstone. He thought that he heard a faint "nyannyan!", but then again, he might be hallucinating. The kiss DID feel real, though. Touching his lips lightly, he closed his eyes. Almost immediately, he fell into a deep slumber, but not before he whispered one unfinished sentence:" You never knew..... I never told you...."
A few short hours later, daylight broke across the country. In a certain country, the sun shone down weakly at a certain hill covered in snow, on a certain person. On that hill, a patch of bright orange, catching the morning sun's rays, could be seen in the midst of sparkling white. There, Tasuki was asleep, his hands around a tombstone. In his sleep, he whispered something. "I love you......Nuriko"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
**Not the power to remember, but its very opposite, the power to forget, is a necessary condition for our existence.
~St. Basil