A Ghost, at Peace
By spheerisl
Pairing: None
Warnings: Touga POV, angst (accepted), movie-verse, reference to sexual abuse
(movie spoiler....) and some surreal aspects
Note(s): TV Tonga does not create much sympathy in me, but movie Touga is a
whole other story....
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Footsteps down corridors and voices carried away by the wind.....
How I have come to be comfortable here.
Watching students pass, eyes shining with dreams still pure and untouched by reality.
Reality seems light-years away in this place, this place with the sun shining during the day and
Stars to guide you during the night, this place that glitters when you hold it up high.
I know every stone.
I know every blade of grass.
I know every petal on every rose.
Sometimes, I sit alone....alone and removed atop the dueling grounds, pretending for a moment that
It is just a garden, just roses and thorns.
But then I smile into the growing dusk.
The darkest of emotions grow in lush gardens, tiny roots invading the ground and taking over
the virgin soil....
Sometimes, if I listen closely ...I can hear my feet running, crushing wildlife in haste.
The sorrow I feel for newly budded growth, trampled under my leather dress shoes, trampled under the weight of my fear, trampled by my back and my hair and my arms....
But that is the past. It is so far from me, so far from here.
I have lived that story, I have told that story. And I did not cry.....not then, not now.
I am foolish after all this time, lingering in a fading dream.
I am foolish to beg for more time, knowing I cannot receive it.
I decide, tonight of all nights, that I am lucky to be here. To witness the castle disappear and
to let the dark water carry me away again... lucky to have loved and to have been loved, lucky
to have inspired the weak to become strong.....
Sometimes... ...yes, sometimes I laugh at myself.
Laugh at what I used to believe, laugh at what used to be mine.. .I must find humor here, in this place that holds me tightly. Even a Prince must laugh sometimes.
Even a Prince that is flawed and cracked from the inside, whose noble heart kept beating though busted... .even a Prince must die.
I did not cry then.
But, sometimes, I wish I could cry now.
Let the tears slide from my eyes and coat the ground, rivers of ancient agony running down my pale face and neck. My grief for my lost innocence is worth as much as my endless chivalry.....
Even a Prince can cry.
Instead, I sigh into the night and walk back down the stairs, the breeze warm and heavy with the scent of millions of roses. I walk around this campus of eternal learning, of eternal wishes and heartache.
I look out into the distance, seeing only blackness pricked with picture-perfect moonlight.
No hint at something more.
No cityscape beckoning you from the horizon.
And I am the only one awake, watching and waiting.....
I think I have become comfortable here and I don't think I will ever leave.
A Prince like me can never truly leave.
END
