03. Little Match Girl
記憶
-Memories-
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Intrigued (and slightly angered), he slowly makes his way towards the sakura.
(Who would dare intrude in his garden?)
An odd sight meets his eye: a thinly clothed girl leaning against the tree, untidy raven hair spilling over her shivering bruised body, huddled around a little match stuck in the icy snow. Her violet gaze seems transfixed by the small flame - her only source of light and heat.
A peasant, he thinks.
"Rukia…." the whisper makes it way out of her lips - hoping, wanting, wishing. "Rukia…" she murmurs listlessly, rocking back and forth. A tear drops to the frozen ground.
Unintentionally, ice cracks; violet eyes dart up, startled, meeting his steady onyx gaze. The haori, the kenseikan, the scarf draped regally around his neck … a noble. Letting out a squeal of surprise, she hurriedly gets up, her face reddening in embarrassment, and runs out of the garden, never once looking back.
He stands still for a moment. A peasant…what would a peasant be doing here?
Peasants belong in Rukongai.
Turning around abruptly, his haori extinguishes the tiny match flame in its wake as he makes his way back to his mansion, still lost in his thoughts.
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That little spot by the sakura became a place more frequently visited. Night after night he would linger there, watching, waiting…she didn't come at first; but he would soon find that his waiting would be over.
The flame would soon ignite again.