"Failure"
Hotaru sat down in her room and closed her eyes, shutting out the world and the night that blanketed it. She opened her eyes again and walked over to the corner of her room, a folding screen covering the back corner from the rest of the area. She moved one side of it and slid behind it, a large, mahogany chest staring up at her from its spot against the wall. She knelt in front of the box and lifted the corner of the mat it was on, pulling out a small key and sliding it into the over-sized padlock. When she opened the box a white face stared emptily up at her, it's black and red markings stark against the bleached features. She reached inside with trembling fingers, picking up the mask in one hand and lifting it off the bed of black cloth it had been resting on for she didn't know how long.
She sank to the floor all the way now, pulling the animal's face out of the box, red strings falling over and tangling on her fingers as she held it over her lap. Her free fingers slid over the narrowed eye holes, then ran down the rounded cheek bones and over the bottom of the short muzzle, touching the smoothly raised line that created lips for the creature. She set it aside finally and rose a little, dipping into the chest once more. This time she pulled out the black cloth, and silver pieces to go with it. Dragging the sturdy, but light material out she let it fall across her partially bare lap, gripping onto it with her fists.
Standing she untied her obi and let her kimono fall to the floor. Stepping out of her stockings she slid a black suit over her body in place of them. Easing the silver vest on and pulling the dulled katanas onto her arms, she tugged on gloves and finally bent down to retreave the mask. Pulling her hair pin out and tugging her bun down, she let her long hair cascade over her shoulders and down her back. The mask felt heavy as it rested on the side of her head, the red string standing out against her curls, tiny silver bells attached to their tasseled ends.
She looked down into the box and saw only a few things left. Reaching inside she ran her now gloved fingers over tattered scrolls and gleaming weapons. Kunais, sinbons, shuriken, and a few paper bombs. There was a rather large katana in its scabbard on the bottom of the box too. She reached in and pulled it out, sliding it over her shoulder and securing the strap between her breasts. The glint of metal caught her eye again, this time peeking from beneath a handkerchief she had in there, but she turned and ignored it. Walking from behind the screen she smiled softly to herself, in effort to keep from crying, as she looked at herself in the full bodied mirror hanging low on the wall across from her.
Her saddened reflection stared back at her, the black and silver outfit glaring in contrast to her pale skin. Her tattoo was brightly visible now, there for anyone and everyone to see. She pulled the mask down over her face, part to feel it again and complete the outfit, and part to hide her face from herself. She blinked, her lashes hitting the smooth cut edges of the eye holes, her lips resting against the animal's own. Slowly she pulled the sword out of the scabbard on her back, it gleamed in the dim lighting, the soft "shing" of metal ringing through the room; though the blade was as dull as the ones on her arms.
She slid into fighting stance, holding the sword across her chest with both hands, the white face of a leopard staring back at her, red and black leopard spots twirling up one brow and to the edge of the mask, then starting beneath the opposite eye and spinning to the bottom edge of the mask. Now tears did fall out of her eyes. She had meant something at one point. She had been someone to fear. "You know I've got kids that argue with me and say you're a legend their parents made up?"
The door slid open behind her and she spun, ripping the mask to the side of her head and pointing the tip of the blade at the person coming in, her eyes wide with something between fear and anger. Usagi looked up and gasped, then laughed softly and bowed her head as Hotaru relaxed and dropped the sword to her side. "Sorry, sorry, I didn't realize you were umm...having a moment..." Usagi started to back out of the room, but Hotaru waved a limp hand in her direction.
"Never mind it all, come in, come in, Nee-san." She sighed and looked at herself in the mirror, taking a step towards it, the tip of her blade dragging across the tatami mat. Usagi came in and shut the door behind herself, holding two cups of tea.
"So...you put it back on...Why?" She sat down at the little table Hotaru had set up in the front back corner, beneath the high window. Putting the cups down she pushed the potted plum stem aside, its stark red blossoms letting lose a few petals. "Sorry about that, honey." She brushed the leaves off, but Hotaru shook her head.
"It's fine, I just forgot to water it." She slid the sword into the scabbard on her back and turned to face Usagi, who smiled up at her. "Does it look as stupid as I feel?" She wondered halfheartedly. Usagi continued to smile, then shook her head and took a sip of her tea.
"It still looks as beautiful on you as any kimono would. I'm sure you put all other kunoichi anbu to shame in it." She giggled and Hotaru gave a light one, turning and glancing at herself in the mirror again. She reached out and put a hand on the corner of the mirror's frame, leaning on it as her other hand rest on her hip and she stared herself down.
"I just...Them being here like this...talking about the anbu and asking me about it...It just made me want to see it for myself. It made me want to remind myself that I really DID almost make it in...I really could of been one of the elite...You know?" She glanced at Usagi, who nodded slowly, as if she did know. She sipped at her tea again and Hotaru looked back at her reflection.
She reached out with her free hand and gripped the other side of the mirror's frame, now holding onto it, as if gripping onto this image of herself; afraid to let go of it again. "Kashi was so proud of me...He was scared, but proud. It was what he always wanted for me." She smiled lightly, almost forgetting her friend was in the room watching her. "We all could've still been together...Doing everything together...And I could be his pride and joy still..." She blinked and released the mirror's frame violently, as if it had burned her.
She stepped away quickly, spinning on her heel and storming over to the box, ripping off the mask and hurling it to the matted floor. She started to strip down with violent jerks and pulls on the almost new outfit, angry tears spilling out of her eyes. "Now I just feel like some fucking failure when I put it on." She grumbled nastily through tears, snarling at the mask on the floor.
Usagi watched quietly, once more knowing that she just needed to wait for the right moment to ask her questions. "You aren't, dear...You know you don't have to stay where you are." Usagi reached out a gentle hand, watching Hotaru throw the garments back into the chest, hurling the sword and mask atop them, then slamming the lid closed. She sunk to her knees, her hands resting on top of the lid, and stopped for a moment.
"I know." Then she shook her head and swiped her eyes clean with her arm. "Listen, I've already told you that you didn't have to do for me what you did. I've already told you I don't like you being here for this time in my life. You can leave whenever you want, I'm not going to stop you." She grabbed the thick kimono off the floor, jerking it back over her shoulders and almost slamming it shut over her body, jerking the obi into a knot at the front.
"Oh, Hotaru-chan, you know I'm not going to leave you. I love you and everyone else does too. We're all just waiting on you to love yourself again." Hotaru came back over and sat heavily on the cushion across from Usagi's. She stared at the steam rising out of the cup on the table. There was a moment of silence between them, then Usagi laid her hand on the table, holding it palm up, waiting for Hotaru.
She slowly slid her hand into her friend's and Usagi smiled, closing her fingers around the smaller hand. "You can't let one man decide your destiny for you. Whether you want to hear it or not, he's probably not coming back...So all this effort to make him notice you is going to go to waste. You're throwing everything away in effort to make him angry and to make him come back...Hotaru-chan, you can't throw your life away because he threw HIS away." Now Hotaru broke down. She dropped her head onto the table and started to sob, balling her free hand into a fist and hitting the table slowly, over and over again.
"I hate you, Onee-san." She whimpered, her words echoing against the wood. Usagi smiled patiently and reached out, stroking her hair back from her face and behind her ears.
"I know you do, honey, I know you do. That's what I'm here for."