Five Roses
By Sachi Gosetsuke
Summary: Five roses…that's how many he gave her. And he told her he would love her until the last one dies (JunxKaz).
Sachi: is it just me, or does this website suck now?
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Second Rose: Beyond Beauty
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"Love is only half the illusion; the lover, but not his love, is deceived" - George Santayana,
She stood at the shores of the lake, ankle deep in the watery depths.
The sun had set just an hour ago, its vibrant colors of orange, pink, and lavender now turned blue black, with few stars in the sky twinkling in all its glory. A beautiful crescent moon sat up in the sky.
Hours before she had occupied herself with making little splashes about, like a little girl, pretending she was back in Yakushima…she said a prayer in her head, saying her blessings and such, closing her eyes and letting the wind lift up her hair above her shoulders and dress floating around her. Her sandals were in her hand.
It's way past the hour on which Kazuya promised to meet her. Where was he? She had kept up her own promise on agreeing to come here, her in her new white dress and sandals in hand, her favorite white headband that he loved to always see her in. She had to cancel a dinner with some fighters from the tournament and when she could be working on some 3WC documents, she chose to see him.
Because she loved him.
She held up the rose in her hand. She doesn't really know why she brought that as well… She just figured it would be a nice gesture in showing him that she loved the simple rose.
But she stood there, the air around her creating goose bumps on her bare skin, the water not helping at all, and she criticized at her rose.
It was already wilting. She had to wear a band-aid on the finger that got pricked by its thorns.
Jun couldn't help but wonder ever so vaguely on her lover's other promise…that he would love her until the last rose he gives her dies. He didn't mean that literally…did he?
It sounded even dumber a second time.
Of course not. Roses die too quickly, just like the one wilting in her hand. Their love was stronger, truer, and much more real and beautiful than roses.
But what did she know about love? Her, a mere innocent 22 year old who had never been with a man, never slept with one, and of course, never loved one.
Yet Jun loved her family…and she loved her friends…and more than that she loved the her homeland Yakushima filled with its vast beauty and animals…moreover her love for her family and friends was enough to know that she was not being foolish and it wasn't infatuation. Her feelings for Kazuya were true love.
A pedal fell onto the surface of the lake.
And she didn't even notice.
Jun remembers how early she had compared Kazuya's "faults" to thorns on a rose…could her love actually be a rose, which holds such beauty and perfection, to her, but as everybody else who doesn't know him, simply choose to see mostly thorns clouding the real beauty within?
Jun chooses to forgive easily, and she can see beyond what everyone else can as well. She sees true beauty in Kazuya; perhaps even more beautiful than a rose, who only has it's beauty. Yes, he has thorns that if pricked by, you'll be scarred. Yet she hasn't been pricked.
…Or could it be that she was just like "everyone else" as they stared upon a magnificent rose; staring at it's vibrant shade of blood red pedals, inhaling its sweet fragrance and cherishing it forever…while ignorant to its sinful thorns.
She didn't care though.
Another hour came by. It was darker than before. The moon shined vividly against the ink black sky as her only light. It was dark, and cold, and she was still there at the shores of the lake waiting. Several more pedals had fallen to the water. She shivered in her solitude, a little angry, yet most of all disappointed.
She finally made her way back to her room.
Inside, she quickly changed into her nightgown, tossed her lovely white dress on a nearby chair…and noticed a new crimson rose in the exact vase filled with water that she had just removed the first rose from, hours ago.
She inspected the rose clearly, not surprised at all. But all the same, struck awe by the rose's beauty. She placed the other rose in there with it.
Underneath the vase however, was a white note. Taking it, she already knew whom it was from by the slanted, hastily written, Western-style cursive.
Jun,
Please forgive me, but I will not be able to meet you at the lake tonight. Some things have come up to my attention.
Judging from your absence right now, I can tell that you had already left. I will try and send someone to tell you so. If not, than you can tell that I am very busy at the moment.
Love always,
K.
