~Tamashii no Hikari~
The hardest part about writing something like this is knowing where to begin. There was no real starting point, except at where my own part was introduced in the play. But you know all of that already, don't you?
Forgive me then, if I skip about at first... I'll try not to jump around too much.
It was strange to see it for the first few times, the merging of a shaman with his spirit. I remember asking Yoh many times what it felt like with Amidamaru; I mean, wouldn't it frighten you, knowing that you gave control of your body to the spirit of a man called demon while alive?
But he always smiled at me, his eyes just a bit distant.
"Iie, Manta, Amidamaru isn't an evil spirit. When we merged... it felt warm. He's good, deep down inside. But something happened to him to make him seem so cold."
At the time, I couldn't believe him, but I soon realized that Yoh wasn't the only one full of surprises for me. Time and again the samurai proved to possess unwavering loyalty and fierce protectiveness, even at the possible cost of his freedom.
Come to think of it, one such time stands out in my mind, and I think it's a very good place to start.
~~~
The lights at the inn had long since gone out, the yards empty and the sky quiet. Not even two hours before, a small crowd of teens bearing ominous torches had cowered behind their leader, Bokutou no Ryu, as he threatened a young shaman's life for the sake of revenge.
That very shaman, who should have been fast asleep and recovering from the ordeal, had instead climbed silently to the high roof of the inn to think, hugging his knees with a black tablet clasped in one hand. Occasionally his half-lidded eyes would fall to it, the shadow of a smile tugging on his lip.
~Why must Yoh-dono become a victim?! I won't allow it!~ the voice of a distressed protector echoed once again through the night in his mind.
"You gonna stay in there all night?" he asked softly aloud, turning his gaze back to the stars. The lonely wind whispered mournfully in his ears, but he felt no such sorrow – everything had turned out all right, just as he'd hoped.
No response from the tablet, and Yoh sighed, running a finger over the smoothed surface. "I knew I was going to be okay."
"You put yourself at unnecessary risk, Yoh-dono." The lavender haired spirit at last appeared at his side, head bowed respectfully with lightly clenched fists resting in his lap. "I could never forgive myself if something happened to you."
The boy sat back with arms splayed out at his sides, ignoring the frown that tugged insistently at his mouth. He was rarely known to ever be without a smile. His spirit had been that worried?
"I would have said something, but Tokageroh might have suspected, and killed me right there. I didn't mean to worry you." He absently toyed with the bits of grass stuck to his sandals, once more replaying the events in his mind.
Amidamaru said nothing for a while, merely staring at his charge with concern and a perplexed expression. He recalled his surprise, even intense anger at being sealed within the tablet, if only for a short time. His heart felt heavy – did Yoh not trust him to protect him? Could there not have been another way to defeat the thief?
He knew that the answer was not one he wanted to hear, and simply dismissed the matter completely. He couldn't stay angry with him for long – in the end, yes, his lord had done the right thing; Amidamaru simply didn't like feeling helpless to aid him. Furthermore, he didn't want to be anywhere else than by his side – in the shaman he'd found a friend he held as high as he had Mosuke, though that had startled him, upon the realization. He'd known Mosuke since they were small... but Yoh he'd only known and protected for not even a month!
More puzzlement washed through the spirit, until the boy was curious at his intense silence, and smiled leisurely over at him. Ah yes, that was why. He had such a caring, almost lazy nature, seemingly ignorant but actually one of the most observant children that the samurai had ever come across, be they alive or no. From the beginning, Amidamaru had trusted Yoh without knowing why, despite his reluctance to admit such a thing. A samurai was always wary, and never trusted a soul.
But, he wondered, had a samurai ever met a soul as pure and bright as his shaman's? A surge of pride shoved away much of the negativity in his aura – his lord was indeed one to protect with his life, a treasure to guard fiercely.
"What's on your mind?"
It was a soft question, not at all prying or uncomfortable. The samurai always felt so free to express himself to Yoh, and at the same time repressed such urges; in his time, such a thing as freely given opinions or speaking out of turn often resulted in death.
"Ah... nandemonai, Yoh-dono..."
The shaman tilted his head to one side. "Are you thinking about Harusame?"
Wince. The wound was still fresh, and selfishly he was glad that Mosuke had already passed onto the next realm. "It... comes as only small concern. Lives were saved at the cost of Harusame."
"Yeah... I suppose you're right, but it's still sad."
"Indeed." He allowed a tiny smile to appease the searching eyes of his young lord – Oh, yes, it pained him deeply, knowing that his precious sword, his last link to his time, his life and his best friend who had died to forge it, was gone. Destroyed by his own hand.
Amidamaru didn't realize Yoh had spoken again until gentle fingers alighted onto his shoulder. He sensed it as a transfer of energy; there was no warmth to it that he could truly feel, and he found himself wishing to experience it.
"...?"
"Things will work out all right, Amidamaru. I know they will."
It was Yoh's motto, the phrase he lived by, and every time the boy recited it, it puzzled him even more. How could someone so easygoing hope to overcome the obstacles ahead? Darker thoughts slipped past carefully- built mental walls of feigned nonchalance. Spirits could not dream (as they did not truly sleep), but they never needed to –the single, split-second image of Yoh, face down and unmoving from the grass with crimson streaks tattooing his body was worse than any nightmare. He feared for his shaman, was petrified that such careless optimism would lead to a horrible death, that such a young and vibrant life would be snuffed out much like a candle in a strong wind.
"Hai, Yoh-dono," he said as quietly as he could, returning his gaze skywards to ponder the stars.
Yoh took his time in studying him, and the samurai noted a shift in expression out the corner of one eye, but said nothing, intrigued. Regrettably, the warm hand on his shoulder was removed, but its owner shifted closer to him, thus initiating a fit of self-consciousness within the warrior. He hoped the anxious color in his face would be well-hidden by the moon, and he dared not stir for fear of being discovered. Why did the boy stare at him so? Was he truly so worried?
But Yoh never said a word. He sighed, he smiled, and he joined his spirit partner in his stargazing. Then he fell swiftly asleep in this way, and Amidamaru did not feel as guilty to stare at him now.
The hardest part about writing something like this is knowing where to begin. There was no real starting point, except at where my own part was introduced in the play. But you know all of that already, don't you?
Forgive me then, if I skip about at first... I'll try not to jump around too much.
It was strange to see it for the first few times, the merging of a shaman with his spirit. I remember asking Yoh many times what it felt like with Amidamaru; I mean, wouldn't it frighten you, knowing that you gave control of your body to the spirit of a man called demon while alive?
But he always smiled at me, his eyes just a bit distant.
"Iie, Manta, Amidamaru isn't an evil spirit. When we merged... it felt warm. He's good, deep down inside. But something happened to him to make him seem so cold."
At the time, I couldn't believe him, but I soon realized that Yoh wasn't the only one full of surprises for me. Time and again the samurai proved to possess unwavering loyalty and fierce protectiveness, even at the possible cost of his freedom.
Come to think of it, one such time stands out in my mind, and I think it's a very good place to start.
~~~
The lights at the inn had long since gone out, the yards empty and the sky quiet. Not even two hours before, a small crowd of teens bearing ominous torches had cowered behind their leader, Bokutou no Ryu, as he threatened a young shaman's life for the sake of revenge.
That very shaman, who should have been fast asleep and recovering from the ordeal, had instead climbed silently to the high roof of the inn to think, hugging his knees with a black tablet clasped in one hand. Occasionally his half-lidded eyes would fall to it, the shadow of a smile tugging on his lip.
~Why must Yoh-dono become a victim?! I won't allow it!~ the voice of a distressed protector echoed once again through the night in his mind.
"You gonna stay in there all night?" he asked softly aloud, turning his gaze back to the stars. The lonely wind whispered mournfully in his ears, but he felt no such sorrow – everything had turned out all right, just as he'd hoped.
No response from the tablet, and Yoh sighed, running a finger over the smoothed surface. "I knew I was going to be okay."
"You put yourself at unnecessary risk, Yoh-dono." The lavender haired spirit at last appeared at his side, head bowed respectfully with lightly clenched fists resting in his lap. "I could never forgive myself if something happened to you."
The boy sat back with arms splayed out at his sides, ignoring the frown that tugged insistently at his mouth. He was rarely known to ever be without a smile. His spirit had been that worried?
"I would have said something, but Tokageroh might have suspected, and killed me right there. I didn't mean to worry you." He absently toyed with the bits of grass stuck to his sandals, once more replaying the events in his mind.
Amidamaru said nothing for a while, merely staring at his charge with concern and a perplexed expression. He recalled his surprise, even intense anger at being sealed within the tablet, if only for a short time. His heart felt heavy – did Yoh not trust him to protect him? Could there not have been another way to defeat the thief?
He knew that the answer was not one he wanted to hear, and simply dismissed the matter completely. He couldn't stay angry with him for long – in the end, yes, his lord had done the right thing; Amidamaru simply didn't like feeling helpless to aid him. Furthermore, he didn't want to be anywhere else than by his side – in the shaman he'd found a friend he held as high as he had Mosuke, though that had startled him, upon the realization. He'd known Mosuke since they were small... but Yoh he'd only known and protected for not even a month!
More puzzlement washed through the spirit, until the boy was curious at his intense silence, and smiled leisurely over at him. Ah yes, that was why. He had such a caring, almost lazy nature, seemingly ignorant but actually one of the most observant children that the samurai had ever come across, be they alive or no. From the beginning, Amidamaru had trusted Yoh without knowing why, despite his reluctance to admit such a thing. A samurai was always wary, and never trusted a soul.
But, he wondered, had a samurai ever met a soul as pure and bright as his shaman's? A surge of pride shoved away much of the negativity in his aura – his lord was indeed one to protect with his life, a treasure to guard fiercely.
"What's on your mind?"
It was a soft question, not at all prying or uncomfortable. The samurai always felt so free to express himself to Yoh, and at the same time repressed such urges; in his time, such a thing as freely given opinions or speaking out of turn often resulted in death.
"Ah... nandemonai, Yoh-dono..."
The shaman tilted his head to one side. "Are you thinking about Harusame?"
Wince. The wound was still fresh, and selfishly he was glad that Mosuke had already passed onto the next realm. "It... comes as only small concern. Lives were saved at the cost of Harusame."
"Yeah... I suppose you're right, but it's still sad."
"Indeed." He allowed a tiny smile to appease the searching eyes of his young lord – Oh, yes, it pained him deeply, knowing that his precious sword, his last link to his time, his life and his best friend who had died to forge it, was gone. Destroyed by his own hand.
Amidamaru didn't realize Yoh had spoken again until gentle fingers alighted onto his shoulder. He sensed it as a transfer of energy; there was no warmth to it that he could truly feel, and he found himself wishing to experience it.
"...?"
"Things will work out all right, Amidamaru. I know they will."
It was Yoh's motto, the phrase he lived by, and every time the boy recited it, it puzzled him even more. How could someone so easygoing hope to overcome the obstacles ahead? Darker thoughts slipped past carefully- built mental walls of feigned nonchalance. Spirits could not dream (as they did not truly sleep), but they never needed to –the single, split-second image of Yoh, face down and unmoving from the grass with crimson streaks tattooing his body was worse than any nightmare. He feared for his shaman, was petrified that such careless optimism would lead to a horrible death, that such a young and vibrant life would be snuffed out much like a candle in a strong wind.
"Hai, Yoh-dono," he said as quietly as he could, returning his gaze skywards to ponder the stars.
Yoh took his time in studying him, and the samurai noted a shift in expression out the corner of one eye, but said nothing, intrigued. Regrettably, the warm hand on his shoulder was removed, but its owner shifted closer to him, thus initiating a fit of self-consciousness within the warrior. He hoped the anxious color in his face would be well-hidden by the moon, and he dared not stir for fear of being discovered. Why did the boy stare at him so? Was he truly so worried?
But Yoh never said a word. He sighed, he smiled, and he joined his spirit partner in his stargazing. Then he fell swiftly asleep in this way, and Amidamaru did not feel as guilty to stare at him now.