A/N: Here is the third installment of these drabbles. It's short, but I hope you won't mind. Enjoy.
Without You
Izayoi sat serenely at the low table, facing the beautiful lake at the back of her father's palace. It was summer, and the bamboo bordering the lake was green and thick. A warm breeze rustled the leaves of the bamboo distantly as she carefully executed a stroke of her calligraphy brush on the crisp, white rice paper covering the desk. She was writing a haiku; so far it read "Bamboo leaves rustle/In the gentle summer wind". All it needed was the last line, but she couldn't seem to find the right words.
Sighing, she placed her brush down carefully next to her ink-stone and sat back. Her eyes seemed to focus on the clear blue water of the lake, but in reality her gaze had turned inward. Memories of a silver-haired demon drifted lazily across her mind. It had been so long since she had seen him… though not as long as the time between his first and second visits. Still, he had promised to visit her more often and it disappointed her that he had broken his vow. Izayoi sighed again.
How she longed to feel his strong arms around her again, or gaze deep into his captivating amber eyes. Catching herself about to go on a daydream about the handsome demon (again), she huffed in annoyance. Infuriating youkai! She hoped that his thoughts were equally plagued, just to spite him. A sudden epiphany hit her in her anger; she knew how to end her haiku. Unfortunately, just as she was delicately constructing the last character an unexpected visitor startled her, causing her to jump and ruin the poem.
"My apologies, Lady Izayoi, if I startled you," said the intruder. Stifling her annoyance and sorrow at her ruined haiku, Izayoi forced herself to reply civilly.
"Don't worry about it; it was nothing. What may I do for you, Takemaru-san?" she asked politely.
"I simply came to see how you were doing, my Lady," he replied, but she could tell he was nervous and not telling her something. She did not have to wait long before he informed her of what was on his mind. "I also came to tell you that I spoke to your father. He agreed to allow me to court you." Izayoi paled.
"Takemaru-san, you know I only see you as a friend, a very good friend," she protested, trying not to dry heave at the thought of courting him. He was a good man, but she had known him since they were children. He was like a brother… this was so wrong.
"I know, Izayoi-dono, but please, just give it a chance? With time, I'm sure you'll come to love me in the way that I love you." He was just so damn hopeful sounding, like a puppy. She could say nothing. "Please, at least think about it," he persisted. Dumbly, she nodded, still in shock. Takemaru sighed in relief. "Thank you, Izayoi-dono. I'll leave you to your poem now, I guess," he said awkwardly and left.
How could her father do this to her? He knew she only saw Takemaru as a friend. He knew she was infatuated with someone else (Though who it was he did not know. She shuddered at the thought of her father finding out about her secret trysts with the demon lord). How could he? Choking back a sob, Izayoi retreated back into her room, slamming shut the shoji that led outside and collapsing on her futon. She buried her face into the soft fur of the absent lord's mokomoko-sama that had been serving as a lap blanket since he had left and cried. Clinging to it, she tried to glean what comfort it gave. It was his. It smelled like him, and the scent calmed her slowly. After a while she drifted off to sleep, surrounded by furry warmth and the smell of him. She couldn't help but think that her ruined haiku was untrue, so terribly, terribly untrue.
Out on the engawa, fragile rice paper rustled in the breeze, echoing the far-off bamboo by the lake.
Bamboo leaves rustle
In the gentle summer wind
I do not miss you
A/N: I hope this pleased you. Feel free to review; they are always welcome.
Lackadaisically Yours,
The Masked Fox