Reaching for the stars II |
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It was late night and still the young girl was wide awake, yet deperately trying to go to sleep. Her birthday was over, and like always, Aoshi didn't make an appearance. Misao didn't know why but she expected so much of him... She wanted him to be there for her. She wanted the Shinomori that she wanted there, showing her the love she knew he had inside. She wanted so much and yet she received so little... And so he never came. Neither to her birthday celebration or to her. She had to act strong to be the leader of the Oniwabanshuu but everyone else knew that she couldn't keep this up. This facade of being strong, like a good leader should. They also knew that Aoshi was deeply in love with Misao... And that they knew that one day, this facade of callousness would fade... Lovers are blind, but neighbors were not. Misao didn't mind the fact that Aoshi did not seem to care, she knew that for a fact that he cared for her deep within. But it so frustrated her because she didn't know when Aoshi's shell was going to break... And she so wanted it to. * * * Twilight sunshine touched her sleeping eyes softly. The sound of birds sweetly singing woke her from her shallow sleep. "Morning..." She looked around, realizing that she wasn't in her room. She had already fallen asleep outside, her head resting on a tree that overlooked the river. She had fallen asleep last night, probably while crying, and didn't realize it until now. She rubbed her eyes free from drowsiness and began the walk home. It was very early in the morning, somewhere around 5 o'clock she assumed. The once busy streets of Kyoto were all so silent and so peaceful as they stood there, bathing in the weak morning light. Not a person was in sight, not a single sign of life. It seemed so desolate but still so full of rising anticipation. People would soon come out of those shut doors and business would once again commence and the town would be woken from that same sleep it was in. Misao crept into the Aoiya and it was fairly easy since she was the self-appointed leader of the Oniwabanshuu. Her feet moved with such subtlety and with such cat-like grace that even though she stepped on falling autumn leaves, they did not even make a rustle. She went around, trying to see if any of them were already awake. Okina was fast asleep and so were Okon and Omasu. Kuroju and Shiroju were as well, fast asleep. And now her heart raced. Her blood pulsated throughout her entire body as that one single thought stuck in her mind. "Aoshi-sama..." She walked, her feet were gaining speed as every second passed by, in anticipation of the person that she wanted to be with the most. She sprinted towards the one place that she always remembered as where she would always find Aoshi alone... When she needed him the most... The Shrine. The same shrine that Aoshi always prayed in... Where he would spend hours and hours alone... In deep meditation with himself... And, dreaming that it would be true, herself. She wanted so much to be what he thought of, every second, every moment, every time the clock would stand still, as if teasing her. He wasn't there... When she needed him most. Misao fell to the floor, and burst into tears, uttering Aoshi's name to herself as her hands covered her sobbing face. * * * The morning sun washed all over his body as he quietly made his way up the beaten pathway. The man had eyes as cold as steel, yet also as warm as the Winter sunshine as it poured down on those lonesome, chilly days... His body stood proud, poised, and silent. His Kodachi, at his side, like they have always been from the first day his hands had gripped them. He emanated the aura of a merciless, hateful and savage killer. But somehow, he also shed the light of an elegant and even delicate warrior... Unknowingly, he himself had his own faults, although he would rather die than admit them... Or even hear anyone speak of them. He was a paradox of everything that everyone had known of him. One person views him as the most perfect thing in the world, while others simply view him as a persistent samurai that would just not give up the ways of Bushido. Yes, he was a paradox of many different things and opinions... But none of them really mattered... Only her's did. How could he forget the same time he himself had thrown her out the window? The same day that he had completely shattered her slightly deluded perception of the man she knew as Aoshi Shinomori. The same hour that he had used to fight the man that the both of them looked up to. The same minute that he had let go of her, personally. He wanted to turn back time and redo everything he could have to have given her a better childhood. One without having to run around Japan constantly searching for the man she loved. And now, he stood there, where all her suffering began. Where he himself had told her to go away and never come back... He may be mature in mentality, but he was still far too young to reminisce. He should leave that for all the years ahead of him. There was no need for words, for he knew that the soil, wind and trees remember the blood spilt on their once clean earth. He knew that each and every thing in existence had a soul, a heart, and they felt every sigle foot step, every blow, every clang of steel against steel on that day. He wished he could turn back time and make things better... He wished so much for that. He was scared, yet he would hate to admit that fear lived in that heart of his. All that he truly feared was the fact that he may never actually really love her... The same way that she loved him. He didn't know how to say it, nor did he have enough courage to even whisper it to her in private. He was in fear of a girl, and a girl who would not fight him for any reason at all... It was this fear that held the two apart... No matter how much someone says I love you, you still need a partner to dance to a love song... Aoshi wanted to give her all she wanted, but he just couldn't. He couldn't give her anything in return for all the loyalty and love that she showed him. It was like trying to reach for the stars. And we know, that stars can almost never be reached. ...Almost...
: : owari : : Ramble:
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