From the pen of Osaka Shizuku
The moon always watches me, taunting me, from its vantage point high above the hill, its faint, queer green shimmer a reminder of this world, this unknown I stepped into, this choice I made. It strikes at me, rolling across me, a circle of sharp edges cutting, cutting, reminding me of she who I forced to make this choice with me, she whose true identity was revealed, cut away to announce her who is my dearest love, my nearest enemy.
Tonight, tonight there is a respite, clouds as fluffy as the snow around me holding off the moon, nothing gleaming, everything taking this moment to hide its secrets. I feel the snow, cold against my skin, as cold as my skin. I would leap and stretch my fingers and feel my growing wings cut into the sky but in that movement, I might forget that I must see her now, before my gentle ally, this storm of softness, is cleared off by the wind I can feel cutting into me now with the coldest of cruel interests.
Where was she? Where would she go? Was she also wandering the night. Or had she chosen chains? Before, before that step, that kiss, that bond, I had known her, there, but now, here, in this new world, stronger urges strangle us both. I barely recognized my handfasted bride.
The wind sped faster, sharper, so needed to be my steps. Was she at the crypt? The clouds and snow were my only allies this night. She would be in the clearing, the forest, where she heard the call the loudest.
"Kasumi!" Snow filled my mouth, smaller, wetter, less of a blanket, more of a draw to despair. The sky brightened, the moon calling on all her divine powers to part the curtains before her and reveal all her true subjects, no matter what disguises hide their fears.
"Kasumi!" my numb feet heated from the friction of my pace.
"Kasumi!" The spell cast, my boots off the ground, I flew toward her, my breath and my bane, pine needles as cold and sharp as my fangs shearing my sleeves, drawing the ichor, leaving a bloodless trail through the snow.
She was there, crouching, yellow cloak covering her fair hair, eyes still the serene pink sakura spring of there, not here, not of this world, not the bleeding red of ripping rage.
She could hear it in my voice, always, but never asked. What she had become in this world had no resemblance to anything about her, unlike my form, which brought out all the cruel, cutting truths on my nature.
Kasumi leapt into my arms. I could almost see the tail that had not yet manifested wag. If my heart had any beats, they would have hastened, any blood it would have warmed. Flecks of snow were freckles on her chilled face, a glinting highlight of rare beauty. I could see the beloved features in more detail as the last of tonight's snow drifted lazily. The last of tonight's snow … I stopped myself from looking up, closing my eyes, pulling my beloved in, feeling her shudder, shift, inhaling this delicious warm brightness, blessed by the moon to survive even me.
And then I felt her claws rend my cloak, rip into my back, and the howl shattered my ears, so I let the thirst take me, her rare warmth, her rich blood.
Another night, spent bite for bite, lips too bloody to kiss, too lost in battle to claim a kiss.
A/N: Two challenges: weather and title. Also, the world needs more ShizuKasu content.
