Chapter 2-Rain, Reflections and Hormones

Rain.

Droplets of water that fell from the sky in a never-ending cycle. It watered crops, filled dams and washed away the past. Rain was also known as the tears of the heavens.

'How fitting that name is.' Sakura thought bitterly as she stared into the grey storm clouds. The sky could no longer hold in its tears and neither could she. It was impossible to tell whose tears stained the ground below.

She had failed again.

Sakura had done everything correctly, perfectly. From the moment the man walked into the room to the point when those dreaded words left his lips:

"Sorry, but you're not my type."

Even though Sakura was looked like a masterpiece, recited the elements of a perfect bride and wife without a single mistake and acted faultlessly, she had still been rejected. The day had ended in failure. Madame Matchmaker was fed up with her failures and disgraces, today was the last straw. While the Madame had acted civil after the client's rejection, the moment he exited the room, her rage had been released onto Sakura. The girl knew there was nothing she could do to calm down her enraged mistress and took on whatever abuse, both verbal and physical, that was thrown her way. Sakura had deserved it for failing once again. After beating bruising her body, honor and pride, Madame Matchmaker kicked Sakura onto the streets with nothing but the clothes on her back.

Sakura aimlessly wandered Roma's deserted streets. She was a foreigner to this city, country and continent. She didn't belong here. She didn't belong anywhere.

It was a blessing that everyone had fled for cover when the sky started to cry, it would throw salt into her wounds if any one were to see her like this. The doors on either side of her were locked tight, keeping out the rain and anything else. While Sakura did know that there was one door that would always be open, the tattered remains of her pride prevented he from going through. The girl wasn't afraid of being turned away but of being let in. Felicia had a big heart and open arms and would always be ready to bring her into her home. Felicia was the sister and best friend that Sakura could ever wish for but the noble had already done so much for her. Coming to her friend in such a state would probably be too much of a burden.

Sakura soon found that she had left the city behind her and was now on the banks of il Tevere. She had often come here with Felicia and Isabel in her spare time. The river had a serene scene that Felicia loved to paint and held a calming sensation. Even when pelted down on by the rain, its waters still stayed a crystal clear blue and its banks were still dotted with blades of green and flowers of white and red.

When Sakura peered into il Tevere, she knew she was going to be met with her own reflection… so who was that girl staring back at her? Her eyes were red and puffy from the rain and thoroughly exhausted. What had been a neat mask of white paint had been smudged and mixed with reds and purples into a disgusting palate of colors with dripping black lines. Silk of pale shades had been shredded, bloodied and torn, leaving only ragged strips of cloth. Numerous ugly bruises littered her body and painted her skin with splodges of purple, black and blue.

Sakura immediately looked away. What was she if her reflection showed her someone she didn't know?

'A useless being and a waste of space.' Foul thoughts polluted her mind faster than she could block them out. Sakura knew she wasn't of any use to anyone and she was a liability to those she knew. She didn't even recognize her own reflection so why should she even exist?

Sakura removed her sash from her waist the used it to tie her legs together. She then drew the sword at her waist, seeing the blade for the first and last time. There was no turning back now. In stark contrast to its glossy black hilt, the blade was greyish-white shade of silver and shining like the moon above. Engraved on the blade were several characters in her native language. Sakura didn't ponder these characters for long or what they meant; all she was focused on was regaining her honor.

And thiswas the only way.

{~~~}

Major Lovino Vargas di Napoli disliked many things. This included loud noises, bad food, fools, Germans, Frenchmen, Englishmen, Americans, drunkards, annoyances, perverts, drunk perverted Frenchmen, drunken annoying Englishmen and drunken perverted annoying albino Germans just to name a few. Rain, wet horses, muddy roads, cold and empty stomachs were also part of the list. Unluckily for him, he had experienced all these hated things within the past twenty-four hours.

His superior ordered him to sneak into a pub where three Allies officers were seen entering and obtain any information that could be used by the Axis to gain an upper hand in the war. The place was filled to the brim fools and other annoying bastards that were all dead drunk making as much noise as humanely possible. Lovino was met with a flying bowl of sludge to the face the moment he stepped through the entrance. Anyone that called bright yellow slush with purple poka-dots food was utterly insane. After spitting out the sludge and narrowly avoided being grouped by some crazy pervert (that was probably French), Lovino was snatched away by the English officer, who was completely wasted, and sat for what felt like hours as the drunken Brit wailed every woe of his life straight into his eardrum. While the young soldier didn't mind listening to a drunkard spill his life story, the loud (and sober) American officer recognized him as an enemy and he had to flee the scene before anyone started listening to the Yankee.

The Major's day went from bad to worse after he submitted what information he had gained from the babbling English officer. His superior was a German albino narcissist that was celebrating winning a bet by poisoning his liver with as much beer as possible. Lovino had to work with the albino's freakishly tall little brother who had an emotional range of a potato to stop the albino from doing something he would later regret (though Lovino wished he could have just let the bastard embarrass himself in any way possible). Once the albino-bastard was sober, Lovino had been assigned to deliver conscription notices to Roma as punishment for a little (read as 'a lot') of swearing. It had started raining by the time he was half way to the Italian capital and it would be a waste of time and energy to turn back.

So here he was, cold and soaked to the skin on the back of a smelly horse and a completely empty stomach, swearing every other second. The only good thing about the trip was that Felicia lived in the capital and his little sister never failed to bring a smile to his face, no matter what mood he was in.

'But knowing my luck, Feli's gone north for the Carnivale.' Lovino thought bitterly as his horse dragged its hooves though the muddy road.

A faint gleam from the surrounding woods instantly caught the miserable soldier's attention. Dismounting from his horse, Lovino followed the fading light through the trees. His hand lay on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw and enter battle at the first sign of trouble. He soon reached a clearing and there, sitting on the banks of il Tevere, was a kneeling girl. Lovino was facing her back and, though couldn't see her face, he could tell she was a beautiful. Her robe, despite being worn and tattered, showed off her natural curves perfectly without being classed as scandalous and complimented her pale skin. Long black hair tumbled down her back like a waterfall with a pale pink flower-comb pinned on the right side of her head. She was the silver lining of his terrible day and Lovino felt as if he could just stare at her forever… until he saw the sword.

A beaten up girl was kneeling on a riverbed.

She had a sword in her hand.

The sword was aimed at her neck.

Shit.

Lovino charged at the girl and wrenched the sword from her hand. He was about to throw the blade into il Tevere when something snagged his arm. He turned to see the girl glaring at him with passive rage.

"What are you doing?" She demanded politely. Her face was covered in a hideous mask of make-up but it didn't conceal her true beauty.

The adrenaline started to fade as Lovino stared into her hazy brown eyes. 'Pretty lady. Pretty lady. Pretty lady.' His infatuated mind chanted. He had been stuck in a war camp of the last five years with a bunch of burly muscle-heads. It was obvious that he would go crazy at the sight of a female (that wasn't one of his sisters), especially one as beautiful as the girl before him.

Snapping his mind out of its hormone-induced haze, he answered, "I should be the one asking you that question." Lovino was careful to watch his language. The girl had nearly committed suicide; one wrong word could push her off the edge. "What were you trying to do? Preform seppuku?"

The slight, but noticeable, anger left her and sorrow flooded onto her face. "No, it was jigai. It was the only way to regain my honor."

"Honor isn't worth losing your life over!" Lovino yelled.

"YES IT IS!" She yelled back. Tears were welling up in her eyes and Lovino expected her to break down then and there but she stayed strong and continued with the same momentum. "Honor is the only thing I have left! I have no home, no family and am nothing but a burden to those who care for me. I am a failure as a bride and will never find a husband. I can't even recognize my own reflection! If I don't have honor…" The girl collapsed into the young major's arms, weak from the emotional (and possibly physical) strain. "…then why should I keep on?" She whispered before fainting.

Lovino was unsure what to do. He had an unconscious, and probably homeless, girl in one arm and her proposed suicide weapon out stretched in the other while standing out in a rain that didn't seem to be letting up anytime soon. But what would his parents think if he took her home? He received a scolding and a heavy punishment when he brought a stray cat home as a child, how much more would a girl stir them up? They dead set on chaining him to a snotty noble woman were firmly against any mistresses. Even if he were to say he didn't want to marry her, they would probably throw her out onto the streets. He couldn't just leave her there, she would probably try to kill herself again. She was bloody, bruised and had nowhere else to go. Bringing her with him back home was the morally right thing to do.

And she was a lady.

A pretty lady.

'Damn hormones.' Lovino thought as sheathed the sword in the sheath on the girl's waist and carried her back to his horse (which hopefully hadn't ran away because he forgot to tie it up). At least Felicia would be on his side… if she was town.

Notes:

Napoli- Naples in Italian

il Tevere (The Tiber)- The river on which Roma was founded.

Carnivale- Refers to il Carnivale di Venezia (the Carnival of Venice), an annual festival held in Venezia that ends with Lent and is famed for its masks.

Seppuku and jigai- Japanese ritual suicide to restore/preserve honor. Jigai is the female version of seppuku since disembowelment is considered unlady-like, they basically cut their throat instead of their gut. In summary, men kill themselves by slicing open their gut (seppuku) while women slice their throats (jigai). Google it for a better explanation.