Death of a Dream
Mizu-chan!'s Notes: Yeah, I know. A ton of people have already done this but heeey, why not. By the way, for anyone who read "She-ra in Disguise", yeah there is going to be more to it. But I only write when I'm inspired and right now, I'm inspired to do this. Not "She-ra in Disguise". Hmm.. that's all? I think.. well, ja!
The young girl slowly sat down in her seat. Pale blue eyes were lowered as she listened to the noise surrounding her. And she took no part in it. Defeated, the girl lowered her head, letting dark sapphire strands of silk tumble in front of her face. They hid the tears quite well.
"Alright, class. Get into your seats," came a gruff voice. "And you. Oukuda. Lift your head. This is not a bedroom."
Takiko sighed. She wanted to tell the teacher to wait. She'd be up in a second, just let her dry her tears. But the girl didn't. She simply remained with her head down, giving no explanation or excuse.
"Oukuda!" screamed the teacher. He slammed his pointer down onto her desk, just inches from her face. She stared at the now cracked stick, remaining down. It wasn't because of tears anymore. It was now a battle of wills.
"Get out of my classroom. I'm sick of a snot like you," growled the teacher. He whipped the pointer away and strode back in front of the class again.
Takiko had enough. She stood up, her chair screeching as she pushed it back. The teacher turned his gaze back to her. Her fellow students all glanced up at her, humor in their eyes. They knew what was going to happen and they couldn't wait.
"I've had enough, Takashi-san! You are an arrogant, malicious teacher! You, you," Takiko began to falter. Slowly, snickers began to spread about the room like lightning. Her words made no difference. Lowering her head, the girl whispered out, "Gomen.. gomenasai," before stepping to the door. Once again she had lost.
It was a terrible habit she had gained over the fourteen years of her existance. She would valiantly rush forth into a battle with all she had. But then just stop. She'd look away from her desitantion. She never knew how to get there anyways. Takiko always went to things the wrong way. And she always gave up.
"I hate you, Oukuda Takiko," whispered Takiko as tears brimmed into her eyes. She sat down, waiting outside the principals office.
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"I got another call from your principal, Oukuda."
"Why do you always call me by my last name? I'm your daughter for the love of the Lordess," Takiko spoke, throwing up her arms.
The man sitting in the desk in front of her narrowed his eyes. His spikey gray hair seemed to raise up higher like an angered cats. He slithered from his seat and stepped over to Takiko.
"Listen, Oukuda, I don't understand why you are like this. You have everything, every goddamned single thing in the world, don't you understand that? Step off the stage and stop screaming for attention. You don't deserve it, you're spoiled," spoke her father. He spoke as though he didn't even know the pain he was placing on his only daughter. "You're nothing, Oukuda. If your mother was still here, I'd have a new daughter and get rid of you. But your mother isn't here. Why is that, Oukuda?"
"Because," began Takiko, her voice cracked. It was like this everyday. "Because I scared her away."
"Correct," growled out her father. He raised his hand to give his daugther the usual smack.
"Oukuda-kun," came a low voice. "The press is waiting."
"Ah, yes," Oukuda-kun lowered his hand to straighten his tie. He flashed a grin to his assitant. "How do I look, lovely?"
The woman who had just recently stepped in nodded returning his grin. "Marvelous. Now, go out and knock 'em dead."
"Indeed," Oukuda-kun motioned the womyn out the door. He followed in her footsteps, pausing at the door to look back at the shattered image of a girl, "Oukuda, I'll deal with you later."
"Yes, sir," whispered Takiko. The moment her father left, the girl toppled from the leather chair. She collapsed onto the ground and let the tears stream down her face. Did she truly deserve all this? The hate of her father, the absence of her mother, the scorn of her peers? Somewhere deep inside her, a voice whispered sweetly that no she didn't. But that voice was surpressed by the sobs that racked her body.
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"Ouch," whispered Takiko. A mometn ago, something hard had hit the back of her head. She layed still for another moment before reluctantly pulling herself up to take a glance at her foe. "Hm, nothing but a book," she murmured to herself as she pulled the back closer to her. It was an old book, probably one of her fathers precious discoveries. She snorted as she stood up, the book dangling loosely in her hands.
"Now, where do you go?" she questioned the book as she scanned the plentiful shelves for an empty space. "No where?" she blinked, peeking curiously at the book. "You're a book without a home?" she questioned again. Suddenly, her attention was drawn to the drawer that was hanging open. The drawer that hadn't been open before. The drawer that was always locked. With eyes newly gone wide, she glanced back to the book, "You came from in there? Then you better get back in there before Oukuda-kun sees you out."
Takiko began to lay the book back into its proper place. But she was brimming with curiousity. "One little peek couldn't hurt, could it?" she giggled, telling herself that it couldn't. Hopping onto her fathers own leather seat, she curled her legs indian style. She set the book down on the desk in front of her and flipped it to the front page.
"Ancient Chinese! My favorite!" With hunger brimming in her eyes, Takiko quickly began to read the words scrawled on the brittle page.
"No! Takiko!" came a familiar voice. The door of the office flung open. Takiko turned to glance at the man who had just raced in.
"Oukuda-kun, you.. called me by my first name," an innocent smile spread across her face. "Father?"
"Oukuda, get away from that book!" screamed her father as slowly green light took over her senses. Takiko uttered a small yelp before she lost conciousness. Her father lunged, trying desperately to grab hold of his dissappearing daughter. But he missed.
"Oukuda-kun?" questioned his assitant as she mosied in.
He looked up to her, his expression grave, "The first miko has begun her journey."
"What?! No!" the assitant leaped over to the desk. She leaned over her bosses shoulders. Slowly, the words tiptoed across the page as they told of the journey of the Genbu no Miko; Oukuda Takiko.