Dreams Know
By BlueMoon
This is where the real story begins . . .
He lowered his sword as the last man fell, painting the soil a fervent scarlet. He had finally destroyed the last of his enemies with nothing but the moon high above to welcome his great feat.
Withdrawing his weapon, he left the clearing in a sprint. Trees were racing by him in such a blur. A branch scraped his cheek but left no mark. He wasn't even sure of the reason he was running. He had to have already cleared a few miles at the speed he was going, but his surroundings went unchanging.
Suddenly, he felt his body lurch forward, his face hitting the dirt. It took him a moment before he picked himself up on all fours. He raised his head and saw a pair of pale, dainty feet clad in wooden sandals. His back felt warm and he realized that the sun was right above him, bathing him in radiant light. His eyes traveled up and noticed the tiny pink blossoms on her lavender kimono.
Finally, he forced himself to stand and observe her. She was beautiful, and her frail yet strong arms clung to a large basket. He was no longer in a forest, but was in a wide field of grasses and fruit.
"I just finished picking these strawberries," she said to him, raising the heavy basket higher, "Have some!"
Her smile was so genuine and happy, and her eyes seemed to see deep into him, into the man that he really was.
Her eyes . . .
He was about to leave their gaze to take a berry, when a sudden movement in her eyes stopped him. They widened and shook, her pupils shrinking. He looked down and his heart stopped at the arrow that pierced her.
He caught her as she fell, the basket toppling over and its contents disappearing. He supported her head and embraced her.
"Mo-Mori," her voice barely made out, "Mo-ri . . ."
Her eyes went blank.