Shadows
……
Chapter 1 : Teasing voices
……
Misao opened her eyes, gazing at the ceiling above her head, and sleepily waking from the anguish of an hazy dream.
What time… ? How long have I been sleeping ?
The night was black, the darkness thick and threatening.
She sat up in the middle of a mess of rumpled blankets. Quick and jerky, her breathing hurt, and sweat was rolling on her forehead. Wholly awaken now, she peered into the shadows dancing in her room and through her mind.
A nightmare… Another one.
Sighing slightly, she relaxed and streched out. Her eyes closed, as her mind was running to find an explanation to those nightmares purchasing her during so many nights.
That's useless… I can't even remember what I've dreamed of.
She sighed in exasperation. She hated waking up in the middle of the night, because her thoughts inexorably turned to a single topic, that tormented her as much as it excluded any sleep during long, long hours.
No, no, no. I don't want to think about him. I won't be able to fall asleep otherwise.
She blushed, wondering if Aoshi was asleep, on the other side of the slim shoji that stood between their rooms.
Would be nice to see him sleeping… I guess he might look more, much more relaxed… So far away from his cold, distant behavior…
A long, silky lock of black hair fell on her shoulder, softly brushing her cheek. She wound it around her finger, her fears and nightmares totally forgotten. She felt a bit nervous at the thought Aoshi was only a few steps away from her, although she had never realized it before.
The moonlight was throwing shadows of branches on the shoji : Misao's well- trained vision could even distinguish the delicate forms of leaves and flowers, blooming on the old, beautiful cherry tree of Okina's garden. Had she hold out a hand, maybe would she have been able to gather one of them…
It reminded Misao of the shadow show she had seen when she was very young. She remembered the cheerful, old man who played with his hand-made puppets, behind a hung fabric… her own joy, her enthusiasm at the sight of the shadows dancing in the darkness, like butterflies hanging in the air… Her heart felt suddenly heavy in her chest. Where had gone the radiant little girl she was when she was five years old ? An odd sensation of melancholy overwhelmed her…
When did I spend those twelve years of my life ?
She could remember her childhood, a wonderful awakening to life, under the kindly, tender watch of Aoshi, Hannya and Okina.
She could remember her adolescence, facing her first disillusions and failures, but always willing to go further, to become stronger, and openly claming her love for Aoshi-sama, with no hint of shame…
And then ?
And then had come the times of sadness, of unspoken fears, of hidden pains she tried to keep burried in the back of her heart ; the time of trusting and being betrayed, the time of feeling lonely… If it was what growing was, what being an adult was, she didn't want it.
I made myself Okashira in order to check the fall of the Oniwabanshuu… I wanted to show to Aoshi-sama that I was strong too, that I could succeed where he had failed… But I'm drowning now, and there's noone to catch me…
Tears filled her eyes, and she wipped them quickly, feeling a bit guilty of mourning whereas her pain was not such a hard struggle.
Do I ask him too much ? He used to comfort me when I was a little girl… Why can't he comfort me now ? What changed between you and me, Aoshi-sama ? You used to care about me, remember…
She shook her head with both anger and frustration. An idea had popped in her head, like a little voice turning in her mind and teasing her to death.
He's angry with you. And he is right ! Don't you see what I mean, Misao- chan ? Remember… you stole his tittle, proclaming yourself Okashira without asking their advices to the others… You stole his tittle, telling you were the Okashira and he was not anymore, and it was just as if you had told Hannya, Beshimi, Shikijou and Hyottoko had sacrificed their lifes for a loser, a man who was not able to lead the Oniwabanshuu !
She grited her teeth, hard.
That's wrong. That can't be. I didn't steal the tittle.
But so… Why did you want to show him you were better than him ? You just wanted to satisfy your own pride and your egoism !
1.1 No ! No ! That's wrong… I've never mind…
1.2
1.3 She suddenly felt guilty, terribly sad and lost. Maybe it was right, after all. It would be an explanation to Aoshi's cold behavior towards her. But she really didn't mind to steal his tittle or anything else that could make him pain…
She silently stood up, her mind so confused that she barely could noticed what she did.
Before she could only have realized it, her hand streched out toward the shoji. Her fingers hit the wood and paper-made door, which slid in a soft rustling.
Aoshi's room was filled with darkness and shade, but Misao's eyes were now used to peering into shadows.
What the hell am I doing ? What do I think I want to do by going in his room at such an hour of the night ? Apologize ?
The muscles of her face tightened as her eyes narrowed. It was too late to retract, now she had to assume.
All was quiet in the room. The wind blowed on the roof, covering the sound of her steps. She thought she could simply go back to her room, but the temptation was too strong.
She wanted to see him.
She wanted to see him asleep, his features relaxed, his silky, blue-shaded hair loosely brushing his forehead…
She moved forward, and frowned.
The futon was empty, the blanket neatly folded on it.
Misao relaxed a bit, sighing in relief. She let out a long expiration, unaware she had caught her breath during several seconds. She realized that her neck was painful, when the tension she had amassed broke down.
"Is it something wrong, Misao ?", a calm voice said.
Misao nearly jumped out of her skin.
Her eyes flashed, discovering two icy, piercing eyes staring at her from a shadowed corner.
He was here ! He was here all the time, and I didn't even notice his presence ! Misao no baka !
Her voice shaked, as she tried to recover her componure.
"Iie… Nothing at all… All's right… I just…huh… I…"
Aoshi stood up from his seiza position.
Misao was obviously troubling him during a nocturnal meditation, and she felt terribly out of place.
He moved forward, his face unreadable at all, not even revealing a hint of anger.
"Are you sure ?"
Misao nodded affirmatively, trying hard to look persuasive and calm, even through she clenched her fists harshly so as not to tremble.
Aoshi's voice was cool, but… wasn't it something else ? Did he just want to seem concerned with her, or… did he really care ?
"Hai, hai. I mean… I thought I heard a strange noise…"
Makimachi Misao, you're making a fool of yourself !
Aoshi raised an eyebrow.
Misao jumped a few steps further. Why in the hell did she felt so nervous ? She was used to his presence, dammit ! Her imagination was betraying her again.
She swallowed with difficulty, understanding her lie had no impact on Aoshi.
You idiot, he knows you better than you would ever do…
But Aoshi spoke again, and his voice seemed oddly embarassed.
"I heard you crying a short while ago."
Misao's expression turned into stupefaction.
"I… cried ?"
A hint of surprise passed through Aoshi's eyes, although nobody instead of Misao would have noticed it.
"Didn't you ?"
Misao suddenly remembered of her nightmare, of her pain and sadness when she woke up. An image popped in her mind, and in the meanwhile tears filled her eyes. She saw Aoshi, his kodachi streaming with blood, glaring at her… with a hatred she couldn't endure…
I don't want to see your face anymore.
"Misao ! Misao !"
Her eyes abruptly opened. She was in Aoshi's room again, fighting the tears that ran on her cheeks. Her gaze met his, and her heart wrenched as she caught his concerned, sorry look.
"Misao, what happened ? Tell me, please…"
She wanted to cry, to throw her arms around his neck, she wanted to tell him why she felt so lonely, and she wanted him to comfort her…
But how can I tell you how badly you hurt me ? I know you sincerely regret it. I know you don't feel at ease, and I don't want you to think I try to push you away… You're trying so hard to repair…
"I had a nightmare tonight. I can't remember what it was about. But it was a sad, terribly sad dream…"
Aoshi seemed to relax a little.
He opened the window, and sat on the edge. His look turned toward the stars and the deep blue sky, and he smelled the fresh scent of the night. The wind rushed into the room, brushing against Misao's skin. She shuddered.
"Nightmares show your fears, and the torments that hurt your mind. Something that is bothering you, but that you can't share with anybody. I used to have a lot of nightmares, when I… and I still have, anyway."
His voice was low, deep.
Misao's eyes grew bigger. Confessions were not the forte of Aoshi ; but something seemed to hang in the air between them, like a thin, fragile link which would bring them closer for an ephemeral moment.
What if I tell him now how I feel about him ?
She pushed back the idea. She had something else to ask, something she had never found the courage to speak about.
"Please tell me, Aoshi-sama. Tell me what happened with Himura, and what you're dreaming about…"
…………….
Aoshi gazed at the graceful, little silhouette, that popped in in his room just as to melt away his doubts and fears. She was there, sitting on his bed, her chin resting on her knees… somehow fragile, somehow strong… And he couldn't help feeling lost, when he caught the sad, hurt look in her eyes. Something she was carrying in her, and that started to kill her silently, desperatly, inexorably…
And they were here, just talking, just like friends. He wasn't her friend. Friends can share everything, can't they ? He didn't want to worry her with the darkness of his mind. She could keep the beautiful image she had made of him, a mix of dreams and memories, so far away from what he really was… Or he wanted her to do so, anyway. And now, they were talking, sharing something, so tiny it could be…
It was surrealist. The moment was, and his mixed feelings were, too.
And he desperatly wanted to keep that moment untouched. Just for her and him. No word. No move. Just her little form wrapped in the darkness. His darkness.
During a short while, he thought he could lighten up a candle. But he was the moon, if she was the sun. He was darkness, and she was light. No way they could meet, they could share, they could lo--…
And suddenly, the words he didn't want to hear. The words that broke the beauty, and sent him back to his loneliness.
"Please tell me, Aoshi-sama. Tell me what happened with Himura, and what you're dreaming of…"
She can't understand. She never has.
……………
Misao saw Aoshi stiffen. She closed her eyes, her heart painfully pounding, her eyes moistening.
She had seen the cold anger on his face. Anger with her, or annoyance, that didn't matter.
But what else could she have said ?
She didn't want Aoshi to keep himself locked with ghosts of his past, she didn't want his inner devils to consume him with grief. She could help him ! She knew she was strong enough, she could understand… She didn't want to judge him, but to help…
And the teasing voices in her head… What did you think ? You thought he was glad to talk with you ? You thought he enjoyed your compagny ?
Yes, I did. I was wrong.
Aoshi didn't say a single word. Misao understood the conversation was over. She stood up, trying hard to conceal the sadness in her eyes, and in the meanwhile hopping he would see her loneliness, and ask her something, anything… Ask if everything was all right, wish her a good night, or even… Ask her to stay…
But no word was pronounced. There was no word to say.
She slightly bent over, her fists clenched in the creases of her rumpled yukata.
"Oyasumi nasai, Aoshi-sama." Her voice was trembling, souding unsure.
No answer. She glanced at him worringly. He wasn't looking at her. His gaze was fixed far away, somewhere in the shade, like a cold mask covering a suffering soul.
She had never seen him so distant, as if his mind was wandering in some invisible landscape, some dream she couldn't even guess in the emptiness of his eyes.
Slowly, she took a step towards the door. And another. And now another.
She turned back, and the shoji slid close silently.
……
Chapter 1 : Teasing voices
……
Misao opened her eyes, gazing at the ceiling above her head, and sleepily waking from the anguish of an hazy dream.
What time… ? How long have I been sleeping ?
The night was black, the darkness thick and threatening.
She sat up in the middle of a mess of rumpled blankets. Quick and jerky, her breathing hurt, and sweat was rolling on her forehead. Wholly awaken now, she peered into the shadows dancing in her room and through her mind.
A nightmare… Another one.
Sighing slightly, she relaxed and streched out. Her eyes closed, as her mind was running to find an explanation to those nightmares purchasing her during so many nights.
That's useless… I can't even remember what I've dreamed of.
She sighed in exasperation. She hated waking up in the middle of the night, because her thoughts inexorably turned to a single topic, that tormented her as much as it excluded any sleep during long, long hours.
No, no, no. I don't want to think about him. I won't be able to fall asleep otherwise.
She blushed, wondering if Aoshi was asleep, on the other side of the slim shoji that stood between their rooms.
Would be nice to see him sleeping… I guess he might look more, much more relaxed… So far away from his cold, distant behavior…
A long, silky lock of black hair fell on her shoulder, softly brushing her cheek. She wound it around her finger, her fears and nightmares totally forgotten. She felt a bit nervous at the thought Aoshi was only a few steps away from her, although she had never realized it before.
The moonlight was throwing shadows of branches on the shoji : Misao's well- trained vision could even distinguish the delicate forms of leaves and flowers, blooming on the old, beautiful cherry tree of Okina's garden. Had she hold out a hand, maybe would she have been able to gather one of them…
It reminded Misao of the shadow show she had seen when she was very young. She remembered the cheerful, old man who played with his hand-made puppets, behind a hung fabric… her own joy, her enthusiasm at the sight of the shadows dancing in the darkness, like butterflies hanging in the air… Her heart felt suddenly heavy in her chest. Where had gone the radiant little girl she was when she was five years old ? An odd sensation of melancholy overwhelmed her…
When did I spend those twelve years of my life ?
She could remember her childhood, a wonderful awakening to life, under the kindly, tender watch of Aoshi, Hannya and Okina.
She could remember her adolescence, facing her first disillusions and failures, but always willing to go further, to become stronger, and openly claming her love for Aoshi-sama, with no hint of shame…
And then ?
And then had come the times of sadness, of unspoken fears, of hidden pains she tried to keep burried in the back of her heart ; the time of trusting and being betrayed, the time of feeling lonely… If it was what growing was, what being an adult was, she didn't want it.
I made myself Okashira in order to check the fall of the Oniwabanshuu… I wanted to show to Aoshi-sama that I was strong too, that I could succeed where he had failed… But I'm drowning now, and there's noone to catch me…
Tears filled her eyes, and she wipped them quickly, feeling a bit guilty of mourning whereas her pain was not such a hard struggle.
Do I ask him too much ? He used to comfort me when I was a little girl… Why can't he comfort me now ? What changed between you and me, Aoshi-sama ? You used to care about me, remember…
She shook her head with both anger and frustration. An idea had popped in her head, like a little voice turning in her mind and teasing her to death.
He's angry with you. And he is right ! Don't you see what I mean, Misao- chan ? Remember… you stole his tittle, proclaming yourself Okashira without asking their advices to the others… You stole his tittle, telling you were the Okashira and he was not anymore, and it was just as if you had told Hannya, Beshimi, Shikijou and Hyottoko had sacrificed their lifes for a loser, a man who was not able to lead the Oniwabanshuu !
She grited her teeth, hard.
That's wrong. That can't be. I didn't steal the tittle.
But so… Why did you want to show him you were better than him ? You just wanted to satisfy your own pride and your egoism !
1.1 No ! No ! That's wrong… I've never mind…
1.2
1.3 She suddenly felt guilty, terribly sad and lost. Maybe it was right, after all. It would be an explanation to Aoshi's cold behavior towards her. But she really didn't mind to steal his tittle or anything else that could make him pain…
She silently stood up, her mind so confused that she barely could noticed what she did.
Before she could only have realized it, her hand streched out toward the shoji. Her fingers hit the wood and paper-made door, which slid in a soft rustling.
Aoshi's room was filled with darkness and shade, but Misao's eyes were now used to peering into shadows.
What the hell am I doing ? What do I think I want to do by going in his room at such an hour of the night ? Apologize ?
The muscles of her face tightened as her eyes narrowed. It was too late to retract, now she had to assume.
All was quiet in the room. The wind blowed on the roof, covering the sound of her steps. She thought she could simply go back to her room, but the temptation was too strong.
She wanted to see him.
She wanted to see him asleep, his features relaxed, his silky, blue-shaded hair loosely brushing his forehead…
She moved forward, and frowned.
The futon was empty, the blanket neatly folded on it.
Misao relaxed a bit, sighing in relief. She let out a long expiration, unaware she had caught her breath during several seconds. She realized that her neck was painful, when the tension she had amassed broke down.
"Is it something wrong, Misao ?", a calm voice said.
Misao nearly jumped out of her skin.
Her eyes flashed, discovering two icy, piercing eyes staring at her from a shadowed corner.
He was here ! He was here all the time, and I didn't even notice his presence ! Misao no baka !
Her voice shaked, as she tried to recover her componure.
"Iie… Nothing at all… All's right… I just…huh… I…"
Aoshi stood up from his seiza position.
Misao was obviously troubling him during a nocturnal meditation, and she felt terribly out of place.
He moved forward, his face unreadable at all, not even revealing a hint of anger.
"Are you sure ?"
Misao nodded affirmatively, trying hard to look persuasive and calm, even through she clenched her fists harshly so as not to tremble.
Aoshi's voice was cool, but… wasn't it something else ? Did he just want to seem concerned with her, or… did he really care ?
"Hai, hai. I mean… I thought I heard a strange noise…"
Makimachi Misao, you're making a fool of yourself !
Aoshi raised an eyebrow.
Misao jumped a few steps further. Why in the hell did she felt so nervous ? She was used to his presence, dammit ! Her imagination was betraying her again.
She swallowed with difficulty, understanding her lie had no impact on Aoshi.
You idiot, he knows you better than you would ever do…
But Aoshi spoke again, and his voice seemed oddly embarassed.
"I heard you crying a short while ago."
Misao's expression turned into stupefaction.
"I… cried ?"
A hint of surprise passed through Aoshi's eyes, although nobody instead of Misao would have noticed it.
"Didn't you ?"
Misao suddenly remembered of her nightmare, of her pain and sadness when she woke up. An image popped in her mind, and in the meanwhile tears filled her eyes. She saw Aoshi, his kodachi streaming with blood, glaring at her… with a hatred she couldn't endure…
I don't want to see your face anymore.
"Misao ! Misao !"
Her eyes abruptly opened. She was in Aoshi's room again, fighting the tears that ran on her cheeks. Her gaze met his, and her heart wrenched as she caught his concerned, sorry look.
"Misao, what happened ? Tell me, please…"
She wanted to cry, to throw her arms around his neck, she wanted to tell him why she felt so lonely, and she wanted him to comfort her…
But how can I tell you how badly you hurt me ? I know you sincerely regret it. I know you don't feel at ease, and I don't want you to think I try to push you away… You're trying so hard to repair…
"I had a nightmare tonight. I can't remember what it was about. But it was a sad, terribly sad dream…"
Aoshi seemed to relax a little.
He opened the window, and sat on the edge. His look turned toward the stars and the deep blue sky, and he smelled the fresh scent of the night. The wind rushed into the room, brushing against Misao's skin. She shuddered.
"Nightmares show your fears, and the torments that hurt your mind. Something that is bothering you, but that you can't share with anybody. I used to have a lot of nightmares, when I… and I still have, anyway."
His voice was low, deep.
Misao's eyes grew bigger. Confessions were not the forte of Aoshi ; but something seemed to hang in the air between them, like a thin, fragile link which would bring them closer for an ephemeral moment.
What if I tell him now how I feel about him ?
She pushed back the idea. She had something else to ask, something she had never found the courage to speak about.
"Please tell me, Aoshi-sama. Tell me what happened with Himura, and what you're dreaming about…"
…………….
Aoshi gazed at the graceful, little silhouette, that popped in in his room just as to melt away his doubts and fears. She was there, sitting on his bed, her chin resting on her knees… somehow fragile, somehow strong… And he couldn't help feeling lost, when he caught the sad, hurt look in her eyes. Something she was carrying in her, and that started to kill her silently, desperatly, inexorably…
And they were here, just talking, just like friends. He wasn't her friend. Friends can share everything, can't they ? He didn't want to worry her with the darkness of his mind. She could keep the beautiful image she had made of him, a mix of dreams and memories, so far away from what he really was… Or he wanted her to do so, anyway. And now, they were talking, sharing something, so tiny it could be…
It was surrealist. The moment was, and his mixed feelings were, too.
And he desperatly wanted to keep that moment untouched. Just for her and him. No word. No move. Just her little form wrapped in the darkness. His darkness.
During a short while, he thought he could lighten up a candle. But he was the moon, if she was the sun. He was darkness, and she was light. No way they could meet, they could share, they could lo--…
And suddenly, the words he didn't want to hear. The words that broke the beauty, and sent him back to his loneliness.
"Please tell me, Aoshi-sama. Tell me what happened with Himura, and what you're dreaming of…"
She can't understand. She never has.
……………
Misao saw Aoshi stiffen. She closed her eyes, her heart painfully pounding, her eyes moistening.
She had seen the cold anger on his face. Anger with her, or annoyance, that didn't matter.
But what else could she have said ?
She didn't want Aoshi to keep himself locked with ghosts of his past, she didn't want his inner devils to consume him with grief. She could help him ! She knew she was strong enough, she could understand… She didn't want to judge him, but to help…
And the teasing voices in her head… What did you think ? You thought he was glad to talk with you ? You thought he enjoyed your compagny ?
Yes, I did. I was wrong.
Aoshi didn't say a single word. Misao understood the conversation was over. She stood up, trying hard to conceal the sadness in her eyes, and in the meanwhile hopping he would see her loneliness, and ask her something, anything… Ask if everything was all right, wish her a good night, or even… Ask her to stay…
But no word was pronounced. There was no word to say.
She slightly bent over, her fists clenched in the creases of her rumpled yukata.
"Oyasumi nasai, Aoshi-sama." Her voice was trembling, souding unsure.
No answer. She glanced at him worringly. He wasn't looking at her. His gaze was fixed far away, somewhere in the shade, like a cold mask covering a suffering soul.
She had never seen him so distant, as if his mind was wandering in some invisible landscape, some dream she couldn't even guess in the emptiness of his eyes.
Slowly, she took a step towards the door. And another. And now another.
She turned back, and the shoji slid close silently.