Hi there, have a chapter.
Hours later, I stirred.
My eye slid open and the world came immediately into sharp focus. I could see the wooden floor that I'd fallen upon and one of my hands lying on it, palm up and fingers slightly curled. I tightened those fingers into a loose fist and slowly opened them again, wincing at the soreness in my joints. Everything hurt. The pain coursed along the entire length of my body, throbbing lazily and forming an unremitting dull ache. It wasn't as sharp as it had been before, I might even be tempted to call it manageable. What wasn't manageable was the hollowness inside me. My magic was still there but disconnected somehow, no longer a central part of me. It was the loneliest feeling I'd ever had.
I haltingly curled into myself, forming a misshapen ball on the cold floor. And wept.
Pathetic.
So very pathetic.
But I couldn't help it. Loneliness killed me a little on the inside, it always had. As if on their own, my thoughts wandered to Ashura. He'd been the first person to pull me out of my horrendous state of loneliness, and I'd loved him for it. He supported me through the dark continuous nightmares and the long, pointless days. He picked me up every single time I fell, dusted me off, and told me that I could overcome my melancholy, I really could, if I would just smile more often. And so I smiled for him and he smiled back at me, and the beauty of it all was enough to prove that the void inside of me had been filled and despair had been left behind. Or so I thought. I remember feeling so complete and cherished the first time we came together… he held me so very softly and told me that I'd become such a beautiful person despite everything that I'd been through. He said that he was proud of me, and that he loved me. He helped me forget everything that I was and taught me to take pride in who I had become, never looking back to the ugliness where I had started. Those things were in the past, only nightmares, nothing that could shape or affect me anymore.
Then Ashura went mad, and my world turned on end. I was uncertain again and I found myself reflecting more and more on the past, slowly becoming consumed by it while Kurogane watched, pulling at the threads of my carefully constructed self. He was such an enigma to me. He said that my past didn't matter, while at the same time demanding that I be myself. How could the stubborn fool not see that who I am was wrapped up so tightly in my past that the two could not be separated? And that the real me was completely worthless, just poor orphaned little Yuui thrown out with the trash? It was much better to be the person that Ashura had shaped me into, beautiful and loved. Why didn't he see that?
It had taken months for me to realize what Kurogane wanted. Quite simply, he wanted me to accept and embrace my past, not forget it like Ashura had taught me to do. He wanted me to look hard at who I'd been, and then move on. How could I possibly do that? I feared that if I looked backwards into the blackness and filth that was my childhood and tried to accept it as a part of me that the rest of me might change to reflect it. I couldn't do that to myself. Not when I'd experienced what it was like to be accepted and loved. How could recognizing and incorporating my own repulsiveness make me into a better person? It went against everything that I'd ever been taught to think. No, I'd reject this idea and roughly shove away the one who'd suggested it. Kurogane. That fool.
I'd never been so cold with anyone before. The months that we spent in Infinity were an extended stand-off. Kurogane seemed to become more and more affected by my frostiness as the months wore on, softening his demeanor towards me but never wavering on the single thing that I wanted him to drop. I really wished that he would let it go, but the ninja was just as stubborn as I was and we rapidly reached an insurmountable impasse. It became shockingly easy to push him away, and I realized one day that I could stop him in his tracks with a single warning look. That surprised and confused me. I wanted to run from him and his distasteful ideas about what I should be, but I needed the man's blood to keep on living this miserable, increasingly perplexing life of mine. And for whatever reason, it seemed like he was willing to tolerate my attitudes and uncertainties. At least for the time being.
I didn't get it. I didn't get him, or why he was so obsessed with who I really was. Hell, I barely understood myself anymore most days. All I knew was that pushing him away from me eventually started to hurt. I did it again and again, hurting him and hurting me. It forced me to go down mental roads that I didn't think I was really prepared for. What did this all mean? Who was I? Who was Kurogane and what did he mean in all of this? What did he mean to me?
I only had an answer for the last one. It was confused and shady, but still there. Kurogane was special to me. God only knows why, but he was.
And now, after everything, I really just wanted him to be alright and for us to be ok again. I'd work with him, if that was what he wanted, and answer all of his questions. For once I'd let the ninja lead. He deserved no less from me. The witch's question floated through my mind again: do you know what you are going to say to him?
Yes, now I think I do.
Blah. This'll be over soonish, but I've got some more story ideas kicking around in my head for later. Keep your eye out for em. Reviews are love!
SR
