A/N: Sorry this update took awhile, but I've been dealing heavily
with college and just found out I may not get the HOPE after I thought I
would.
* scowls *
Warning: Some mild cursing and a small amount of violence and blood (though not enough to make you curl into a corner and weep from being mentally damaged.) Enjoy! ^_^
Chapter 39
Liberation
The moment I open my eyes, it is clear what I must do. Akahito's face is still lax with sleep, his eyes still pressed closed, his mouth still partially open, his arm still draped across my back, holding me to his chest. Being careful not to disturb him, I take his arm and gently lift it from around me, scooting away from him and toward the opposite side of the bed. I then lower his arm to his side, and watch as he shifts and sighs at the loss of the heat of my body next to his.
Still being as silent as a moth, I creep from the bed and take care not to trip over his clothes as I search for my gown. After dressing myself, I stand still for a moment beside the bed and watch Akahito as he continues to sleep. He was my last customer. I knew this the moment I awoke. After my dream, I could never sleep with another man. I could always try for the sake of my life, but I would never succeed. There is nothing about other men that revolts me. I still think that a man's body is beautiful, but only because it is something that I myself don't possess. It's exactly the same with men's obsession with women's breasts-they don't have them, therefore, they long to see them and touch them. I smile gently and allow myself a soft laugh at my thought.
No. The reason I will never touch another man but Tasuki runs far deeper than the rugged skin of a man's palm or the stubble on his chin. They all have souls, of course; but none are as riveting as my lover's. His is like a fountain of vigor, a lake behind a cracked dam that broke and washed over me when I touched him that first time in the tavern so long ago. His soul awakened me, made me come alive again. After that long five years that seemed to be five decades to me, I woke up; and, for once during my life as a whore, I dared to look around me and truly see what I had been forced to become. A thing whose value is measured only by what is between its legs. A blind merchant of myself. A woman of nothing.
But instead of forcing my eyelids apart to make me realize what I was, Tasuki coaxed my eyes open with his gentle fingertips. And I saw myself. But after the typhoon of shame that immediately followed, I realized how easy it all was to repair. Maybe not technically; I still legally belong to Shingen, after all. And my body has possibly been permanently corrupted by the seed of hundreds of men. But spiritually and emotionally it is quite simple. Almost too simple. But of course, I of all people would still have problems as high as mountains.
Trust. That is all that is required. How sad and how silly it all would seem to someone else, someone ignorant of all the things I have seen and done, heard and spoken, felt and touched. They would think me foolish. Possibly insane. Because to think that all of life's problems could be solved by a simple act of willpower is to think unnaturally.
Perhaps that is why I have been so reluctant to truly put all my trust in Tasuki. I understand that it could mean I am not of a sound mind. It could mean I'm not really thinking straight, true, and logically. It could mean I'm taking a chance. And that is one of the most frightening things that a person could ever encounter.
But I could really give a shit now. It's too late-far too late. I've seen him and touched him, and I know he's coming back to me. It's only a matter of time. Today. Tomorrow. Next week. Who the hell cares?
The only sad thing is how long it's taken me and how many times I truly thought I had finally conquered this goddamned demon. Too long-far too long. But what does it matter now? It has happened, and not even Shingen's monstrous fists could undo it.
I lean over the bed and delicately smooth Akahito's unruly hair with my fingertips. He was kind to me, sincerely and genuinely loving at times, and I will truly miss him. He stirs under my touch, but his eyes remain closed, deep in sleep. I whisper a goodbye to him and turn to leave.
I remain deathly silent when I exit the room that my last client and I shared. He'll wake up soon and realize that there is no one there to pay, and then I'm not exactly sure what he will do. He understands my hatred of Shingen, so I'm sure he'll take his leave from the brothel as if all went well, never allowing my pimp to think otherwise.
I feel so invigorated. So free. I feel like I can stretch and not have my fingernails scrape up against an iron cage. And I realize that it feels unimaginably good.
I thought I had succeeded in my escape from the room where Akahito still sleeps, but when I see Shingen standing at my bedroom door, his heavy shoulder leaning against the frame, I realize that I have not escaped anything at all. I stop, the soles of my feet frozen to the wood of the balcony floor. He smiles at me as if he is pleased to see me. How damn ironic. Freedom on my mind; captivity standing in front of me.
"I was wondering when you'd decide to get up," he replies, his smile widening. "How generous of you to offer to entertain Akahito for the entire night."
I debate in my mind as to what I should do. In all truth and simplicity, he is all that stands in my way. If he were not here to hinder me in all ways imaginable, I would be as free as a bird to fly wherever I pleased. But no. Here he is, standing next to my door, adamant on making me speak to him, pass by him, know that he is what stands between me and peace. I could flee. I could make a bound for the stairs and run like a frightened deer to the gates of the palace, begging the emperor to shelter me until Tasuki returns. Or I could defy my dream. I could blatantly ignore the heat that is still enveloped around my entire body, seeping into the pores of my skin. I could thank my pimp for his praise and tell him that I am only sneaking off to my room to freshen up before returning to Akahito's side to bid him good morning-and collect my fee for his two hours of my company, as well as the small extra charge for spending the night with me.
Or I could do what I have ached to do from the moment Shingen wrapped his monstrous arms around my child's body and lifted me into his cart for the ride back to the capital-away from my confused siblings and guilt- tormented father. I could stare him in the eye and tell him that I am not his. That I am my own, and no one else's.
He narrows his eyes at me, unnerved and confused by my peculiar silence. I am lost in my thoughts, but still very aware of his eyes on me. He is thinking to himself, wondering to himself. Soon he will become suspicious, but it makes no matter to me. I already know what I will do. I don't know, however, what will happen to me afterwards. A myriad of things could take place. But amazingly I detect no fear in me anywhere. All I am able to feel is the warmth of the walls of fire from my dream. And I can still see my darling Tasuki so clearly, so vividly. I cannot help but smile slightly. A mistake, perhaps, for Shingen sees it, and his narrowing eyes and pursing lips transform his face in front of my eyes. Ah, I think slyly to myself. There it is, just as I knew it would be. Suspicion.
I lift my head until it is parallel with the floor, then lift my eyes until they are able to stare directly into his. He shifts his weight away from the frame of my door and walks slowly towards me, taking care to keep his eye on me at all times as if I were a tiger ready to leap for his throat at any moment. Now is the time. Liberation is at my fingertips. Freedom is floating just above my head. And they will be mine no matter what I will endure afterwards.
"Shingen."
His name is calm as it rolls off my tongue, but it freezes him in mid- stride. He looks at me with a mixture of confusion, anxiety, and interest, and I look back at him with a blank face. I cannot be unnerved. Not now.
"Shingen, " I repeat, "Akahito was a very pleasant and cordial last customer. I trust that you will tell him this for me, since I will not see him again."
Instantly, his eyes take on a sickening sheen. His lips tighten themselves into a straight line across his face. I know he wants to speak, to try to stop me before I even truly begin, because he knows what I am about to say-
"And I wish to tell you something as well, " I reply softly, "I shall be leaving very shortly, and I would greatly appreciate it if you would continue to treat the other women as you have been doing these last few months. I think we both can agree that business has increased noticeably since the dutiful obeisance of His Highness's decree. I would hate for your good fortune to fade away after my departure."
"What the hell are you talking about?" he spits menacingly at me, barely grinding the words out between his teeth.
"I'm talking about my future, Shingen," I answer, my voice remaining soft and demure, "It does not lie within the walls Black Dove--or within your hands."
I see his eyes widen, but I wonder if it is due to shock or fury. He remains perfectly still, but I can see a slight trembling to his form. I continue, deciding to be oblivious to him.
"I am no longer yours. As of this moment, I am my own. And like I said before, I will be leaving soon."
Upon hearing this, he flies at me like a lunatic. To my horror, I don't expect it. I could have easily dodged his heavy body with my lithe one; I could have made a dash for the stairs to evade him. But I never expected to see his eyes, flaming with anger, staring at me as he lifts his arm above his bandanna-covered head and hurls his palm into my cheekbone. His blow sends me into the wall; and in a blinding flash of pain and shock, I feel the rough, angled wood of a doorframe connect with my brow. The weight of my body follows my forehead, crashing into the wall and collapsing on the floor at Shingen's feet.
For a moment, I am disconnected from the world around me. I open my eyes, but see a woman's slender hands in front of me instead of the dark, polished wood of the balcony floor. A bone needle is clasped daintily between her thumb and forefinger, and I watch in child-like awe as a pearl- white dogwood blossom takes form on the sleeve hem of a gown.
"Watch closely, Tansho," the woman's voice replies gently, "You must not pull too hard or the thread will snap. It's very easy to do when working with delicate thread on such thick fabric."
The woman's hands fade from my vision as if I lift my head upward. And then her face comes into view, and I feel my chest constrict as I recognize her. Smooth brown hair as dark as mahogany is twisted elegantly into two buns atop her head, each tied with white ribbons that flow like rivers of snow down the remaining curtain of dark hair spilling across her sloped shoulders. Eyes the color of smoke and peach-tinted lips smile serenely at me, beckoning to me, calling for me. I know her. I've seen her before. I've studied the masterful twist of her wrists and fingers as she sewed in her shop. I've listened to her soothing voice sing me to sleep with old folk songs. I've felt her delicate arms wrapped securely around my back, holding me to her breast. And it's been so long since I've seen her.
"Mother," I whisper to myself, oblivious to anything but the scent of her exotic perfume and the strange curve to her gray eyes.
And then I am thrust once more into the present world. I turn my head, only to feel a sharp pain above my eye as I accidentally scrape my forehead against the floor. I ignore the pain and turn my face upwards, trying to find my mother's face again. But he is there instead, looming over me like a storm cloud, his angry eyes on fire. And then I see his arm arch itself again, rising above his head like a tidal wave ready to come down on me while I lie vulnerable at his feet.
The bastard! My mind shrieks to me. How dare he?! How dare he?! Not again! Never again!
In a furious, blind, and desperate action, I shove my hand down the neck of my gown and grope in the valley of my breasts until my trembling fingers make contact with the only thing that can save me now. He'll kill me. He'll beat me to death. And I know it just as I know my mother's face in the midst of my pain.
I grasp the pendant in my hand, the metal warm from being buried between my breasts for so long. As his fingers curl themselves into a fist above his head, and his arm begins its decent from the air, I pull the scarlet sign of Suzaku from its hiding place next to my heart and hold it firmly above my head as my shield from Shingen's oncoming blow. But his hand never even gets close to me.
I look up at him, terrified and enraged at the same time, only to see his arm suspended in mid-air, and his eyes locked on the blazing image of the red phoenix god that is molded into the medallion clutched in my hand. Rage overcomes me, and I thrust it upwards at him violently.
"Do it!" I howl at him, almost to the point of madness from both my fear and fury, "Goddamn you to hell, Shingen! Do it if you desire so much to see me dead at your feet! The gods so help me, I will see you dead at mine first!"
He stares at the piece of metal grasped in my fingers, and realizes his horrid mistake. And for one glorifying moment since our confrontation, I see the terror in his eyes once again.
My eye suddenly begins to sting, and I realize that blood from the wound on my brow has dripped into it. I lift my other hand to wipe the blood away, but never lower the hand that clasps the pendant. It is the only thing holding me back from the edges of hell, and I hold it as if I am holding my own life.
Shingen lowers his arm and straightens himself slowly, his eyes still glued to my hand. He knows he has no power over me any longer. And although I know without a doubt that his rage for me still burns inside him, he will not dare to raise his hand to me again tonight or any time in the near future. But my time has been drastically shortened with my bold declaration of my freedom. And Shingen is no longer pleased with my docile and industrious behavior, now that I have once again turned rebellious. His patience with me is tried. I have injured his pride and his honor as a man and as a pimp. The fear of his own demise if he dares to harm me is diminishing fast. My life is in danger even though I believe for a short moment that I have saved it. He will one day find a way around the law of the emperor, and on that day he will surely kill me.
He turns and walks with deliberate slowness down the stairs to the tavern, my eyes following him until his head disappears from sight. I remain crumpled on the floor, my fingers still curled around the crimson metal amulet, lifting it to the sky as if it were all that keeps the universe from crushing me.
I finally lower my arm after several long minutes, and rest my aching, spinning head in the crook of my bent elbow. I curl my other arm to my chest and press the scarlet amulet to my heart once again, warming it with what little life I have left in me. It is possible that I have done more harm than good to myself. I have freed my soul, but my body is still in danger of being buried beneath the ground. Tasuki's quick return is my only hope now.
I may be free, but only in the depths of my heart.
A/N: So here is the chapter you've all been waiting for! Tansho has finally told Shingen to shove it! ^_^ Yay!! Well, of course, this is nowhere near the end. There is still quite a lot more to come!
Replies to reviewers:
Touki Yume: Yeah, I was kinda going for the creepy, surreal effect. I'm very into the supernatural (in fact, it actually plays a rather big part later on in the story. ^_^)
Zerianyu: Oh, hon, I'm so sorry you lost a relative! I hope you feel better soon-I know it can be hard when you loose someone you love. And, yes, Wyoming was really cool (very very different from Georgia ^_^), and you should go to Yellowstone! It's an amazing place!
Kitty Lynne: Hey there, Lynne! Thanks so much for all the great compliments about Akahito (too bad he's not a major character, huh? ^_^) Oh, and I've read through chap 23 of the "The Promise", and I can't wait for more! You've got another hooked fan! ^_^
Nako-chan: Yeah, I know that having so many chapters already written but not posting them is kinda cruel, but it's helped a lot in letting me update at a regular pace. If I wrote and posted my chapters one right after the other, my updates would be very erratic.
Thanks a lot for all your reviews!! I love to read them over and over again when I'm having trouble sitting down and staying there long enough to write. ^_^ Love you all!
* scowls *
Warning: Some mild cursing and a small amount of violence and blood (though not enough to make you curl into a corner and weep from being mentally damaged.) Enjoy! ^_^
Chapter 39
Liberation
The moment I open my eyes, it is clear what I must do. Akahito's face is still lax with sleep, his eyes still pressed closed, his mouth still partially open, his arm still draped across my back, holding me to his chest. Being careful not to disturb him, I take his arm and gently lift it from around me, scooting away from him and toward the opposite side of the bed. I then lower his arm to his side, and watch as he shifts and sighs at the loss of the heat of my body next to his.
Still being as silent as a moth, I creep from the bed and take care not to trip over his clothes as I search for my gown. After dressing myself, I stand still for a moment beside the bed and watch Akahito as he continues to sleep. He was my last customer. I knew this the moment I awoke. After my dream, I could never sleep with another man. I could always try for the sake of my life, but I would never succeed. There is nothing about other men that revolts me. I still think that a man's body is beautiful, but only because it is something that I myself don't possess. It's exactly the same with men's obsession with women's breasts-they don't have them, therefore, they long to see them and touch them. I smile gently and allow myself a soft laugh at my thought.
No. The reason I will never touch another man but Tasuki runs far deeper than the rugged skin of a man's palm or the stubble on his chin. They all have souls, of course; but none are as riveting as my lover's. His is like a fountain of vigor, a lake behind a cracked dam that broke and washed over me when I touched him that first time in the tavern so long ago. His soul awakened me, made me come alive again. After that long five years that seemed to be five decades to me, I woke up; and, for once during my life as a whore, I dared to look around me and truly see what I had been forced to become. A thing whose value is measured only by what is between its legs. A blind merchant of myself. A woman of nothing.
But instead of forcing my eyelids apart to make me realize what I was, Tasuki coaxed my eyes open with his gentle fingertips. And I saw myself. But after the typhoon of shame that immediately followed, I realized how easy it all was to repair. Maybe not technically; I still legally belong to Shingen, after all. And my body has possibly been permanently corrupted by the seed of hundreds of men. But spiritually and emotionally it is quite simple. Almost too simple. But of course, I of all people would still have problems as high as mountains.
Trust. That is all that is required. How sad and how silly it all would seem to someone else, someone ignorant of all the things I have seen and done, heard and spoken, felt and touched. They would think me foolish. Possibly insane. Because to think that all of life's problems could be solved by a simple act of willpower is to think unnaturally.
Perhaps that is why I have been so reluctant to truly put all my trust in Tasuki. I understand that it could mean I am not of a sound mind. It could mean I'm not really thinking straight, true, and logically. It could mean I'm taking a chance. And that is one of the most frightening things that a person could ever encounter.
But I could really give a shit now. It's too late-far too late. I've seen him and touched him, and I know he's coming back to me. It's only a matter of time. Today. Tomorrow. Next week. Who the hell cares?
The only sad thing is how long it's taken me and how many times I truly thought I had finally conquered this goddamned demon. Too long-far too long. But what does it matter now? It has happened, and not even Shingen's monstrous fists could undo it.
I lean over the bed and delicately smooth Akahito's unruly hair with my fingertips. He was kind to me, sincerely and genuinely loving at times, and I will truly miss him. He stirs under my touch, but his eyes remain closed, deep in sleep. I whisper a goodbye to him and turn to leave.
I remain deathly silent when I exit the room that my last client and I shared. He'll wake up soon and realize that there is no one there to pay, and then I'm not exactly sure what he will do. He understands my hatred of Shingen, so I'm sure he'll take his leave from the brothel as if all went well, never allowing my pimp to think otherwise.
I feel so invigorated. So free. I feel like I can stretch and not have my fingernails scrape up against an iron cage. And I realize that it feels unimaginably good.
I thought I had succeeded in my escape from the room where Akahito still sleeps, but when I see Shingen standing at my bedroom door, his heavy shoulder leaning against the frame, I realize that I have not escaped anything at all. I stop, the soles of my feet frozen to the wood of the balcony floor. He smiles at me as if he is pleased to see me. How damn ironic. Freedom on my mind; captivity standing in front of me.
"I was wondering when you'd decide to get up," he replies, his smile widening. "How generous of you to offer to entertain Akahito for the entire night."
I debate in my mind as to what I should do. In all truth and simplicity, he is all that stands in my way. If he were not here to hinder me in all ways imaginable, I would be as free as a bird to fly wherever I pleased. But no. Here he is, standing next to my door, adamant on making me speak to him, pass by him, know that he is what stands between me and peace. I could flee. I could make a bound for the stairs and run like a frightened deer to the gates of the palace, begging the emperor to shelter me until Tasuki returns. Or I could defy my dream. I could blatantly ignore the heat that is still enveloped around my entire body, seeping into the pores of my skin. I could thank my pimp for his praise and tell him that I am only sneaking off to my room to freshen up before returning to Akahito's side to bid him good morning-and collect my fee for his two hours of my company, as well as the small extra charge for spending the night with me.
Or I could do what I have ached to do from the moment Shingen wrapped his monstrous arms around my child's body and lifted me into his cart for the ride back to the capital-away from my confused siblings and guilt- tormented father. I could stare him in the eye and tell him that I am not his. That I am my own, and no one else's.
He narrows his eyes at me, unnerved and confused by my peculiar silence. I am lost in my thoughts, but still very aware of his eyes on me. He is thinking to himself, wondering to himself. Soon he will become suspicious, but it makes no matter to me. I already know what I will do. I don't know, however, what will happen to me afterwards. A myriad of things could take place. But amazingly I detect no fear in me anywhere. All I am able to feel is the warmth of the walls of fire from my dream. And I can still see my darling Tasuki so clearly, so vividly. I cannot help but smile slightly. A mistake, perhaps, for Shingen sees it, and his narrowing eyes and pursing lips transform his face in front of my eyes. Ah, I think slyly to myself. There it is, just as I knew it would be. Suspicion.
I lift my head until it is parallel with the floor, then lift my eyes until they are able to stare directly into his. He shifts his weight away from the frame of my door and walks slowly towards me, taking care to keep his eye on me at all times as if I were a tiger ready to leap for his throat at any moment. Now is the time. Liberation is at my fingertips. Freedom is floating just above my head. And they will be mine no matter what I will endure afterwards.
"Shingen."
His name is calm as it rolls off my tongue, but it freezes him in mid- stride. He looks at me with a mixture of confusion, anxiety, and interest, and I look back at him with a blank face. I cannot be unnerved. Not now.
"Shingen, " I repeat, "Akahito was a very pleasant and cordial last customer. I trust that you will tell him this for me, since I will not see him again."
Instantly, his eyes take on a sickening sheen. His lips tighten themselves into a straight line across his face. I know he wants to speak, to try to stop me before I even truly begin, because he knows what I am about to say-
"And I wish to tell you something as well, " I reply softly, "I shall be leaving very shortly, and I would greatly appreciate it if you would continue to treat the other women as you have been doing these last few months. I think we both can agree that business has increased noticeably since the dutiful obeisance of His Highness's decree. I would hate for your good fortune to fade away after my departure."
"What the hell are you talking about?" he spits menacingly at me, barely grinding the words out between his teeth.
"I'm talking about my future, Shingen," I answer, my voice remaining soft and demure, "It does not lie within the walls Black Dove--or within your hands."
I see his eyes widen, but I wonder if it is due to shock or fury. He remains perfectly still, but I can see a slight trembling to his form. I continue, deciding to be oblivious to him.
"I am no longer yours. As of this moment, I am my own. And like I said before, I will be leaving soon."
Upon hearing this, he flies at me like a lunatic. To my horror, I don't expect it. I could have easily dodged his heavy body with my lithe one; I could have made a dash for the stairs to evade him. But I never expected to see his eyes, flaming with anger, staring at me as he lifts his arm above his bandanna-covered head and hurls his palm into my cheekbone. His blow sends me into the wall; and in a blinding flash of pain and shock, I feel the rough, angled wood of a doorframe connect with my brow. The weight of my body follows my forehead, crashing into the wall and collapsing on the floor at Shingen's feet.
For a moment, I am disconnected from the world around me. I open my eyes, but see a woman's slender hands in front of me instead of the dark, polished wood of the balcony floor. A bone needle is clasped daintily between her thumb and forefinger, and I watch in child-like awe as a pearl- white dogwood blossom takes form on the sleeve hem of a gown.
"Watch closely, Tansho," the woman's voice replies gently, "You must not pull too hard or the thread will snap. It's very easy to do when working with delicate thread on such thick fabric."
The woman's hands fade from my vision as if I lift my head upward. And then her face comes into view, and I feel my chest constrict as I recognize her. Smooth brown hair as dark as mahogany is twisted elegantly into two buns atop her head, each tied with white ribbons that flow like rivers of snow down the remaining curtain of dark hair spilling across her sloped shoulders. Eyes the color of smoke and peach-tinted lips smile serenely at me, beckoning to me, calling for me. I know her. I've seen her before. I've studied the masterful twist of her wrists and fingers as she sewed in her shop. I've listened to her soothing voice sing me to sleep with old folk songs. I've felt her delicate arms wrapped securely around my back, holding me to her breast. And it's been so long since I've seen her.
"Mother," I whisper to myself, oblivious to anything but the scent of her exotic perfume and the strange curve to her gray eyes.
And then I am thrust once more into the present world. I turn my head, only to feel a sharp pain above my eye as I accidentally scrape my forehead against the floor. I ignore the pain and turn my face upwards, trying to find my mother's face again. But he is there instead, looming over me like a storm cloud, his angry eyes on fire. And then I see his arm arch itself again, rising above his head like a tidal wave ready to come down on me while I lie vulnerable at his feet.
The bastard! My mind shrieks to me. How dare he?! How dare he?! Not again! Never again!
In a furious, blind, and desperate action, I shove my hand down the neck of my gown and grope in the valley of my breasts until my trembling fingers make contact with the only thing that can save me now. He'll kill me. He'll beat me to death. And I know it just as I know my mother's face in the midst of my pain.
I grasp the pendant in my hand, the metal warm from being buried between my breasts for so long. As his fingers curl themselves into a fist above his head, and his arm begins its decent from the air, I pull the scarlet sign of Suzaku from its hiding place next to my heart and hold it firmly above my head as my shield from Shingen's oncoming blow. But his hand never even gets close to me.
I look up at him, terrified and enraged at the same time, only to see his arm suspended in mid-air, and his eyes locked on the blazing image of the red phoenix god that is molded into the medallion clutched in my hand. Rage overcomes me, and I thrust it upwards at him violently.
"Do it!" I howl at him, almost to the point of madness from both my fear and fury, "Goddamn you to hell, Shingen! Do it if you desire so much to see me dead at your feet! The gods so help me, I will see you dead at mine first!"
He stares at the piece of metal grasped in my fingers, and realizes his horrid mistake. And for one glorifying moment since our confrontation, I see the terror in his eyes once again.
My eye suddenly begins to sting, and I realize that blood from the wound on my brow has dripped into it. I lift my other hand to wipe the blood away, but never lower the hand that clasps the pendant. It is the only thing holding me back from the edges of hell, and I hold it as if I am holding my own life.
Shingen lowers his arm and straightens himself slowly, his eyes still glued to my hand. He knows he has no power over me any longer. And although I know without a doubt that his rage for me still burns inside him, he will not dare to raise his hand to me again tonight or any time in the near future. But my time has been drastically shortened with my bold declaration of my freedom. And Shingen is no longer pleased with my docile and industrious behavior, now that I have once again turned rebellious. His patience with me is tried. I have injured his pride and his honor as a man and as a pimp. The fear of his own demise if he dares to harm me is diminishing fast. My life is in danger even though I believe for a short moment that I have saved it. He will one day find a way around the law of the emperor, and on that day he will surely kill me.
He turns and walks with deliberate slowness down the stairs to the tavern, my eyes following him until his head disappears from sight. I remain crumpled on the floor, my fingers still curled around the crimson metal amulet, lifting it to the sky as if it were all that keeps the universe from crushing me.
I finally lower my arm after several long minutes, and rest my aching, spinning head in the crook of my bent elbow. I curl my other arm to my chest and press the scarlet amulet to my heart once again, warming it with what little life I have left in me. It is possible that I have done more harm than good to myself. I have freed my soul, but my body is still in danger of being buried beneath the ground. Tasuki's quick return is my only hope now.
I may be free, but only in the depths of my heart.
A/N: So here is the chapter you've all been waiting for! Tansho has finally told Shingen to shove it! ^_^ Yay!! Well, of course, this is nowhere near the end. There is still quite a lot more to come!
Replies to reviewers:
Touki Yume: Yeah, I was kinda going for the creepy, surreal effect. I'm very into the supernatural (in fact, it actually plays a rather big part later on in the story. ^_^)
Zerianyu: Oh, hon, I'm so sorry you lost a relative! I hope you feel better soon-I know it can be hard when you loose someone you love. And, yes, Wyoming was really cool (very very different from Georgia ^_^), and you should go to Yellowstone! It's an amazing place!
Kitty Lynne: Hey there, Lynne! Thanks so much for all the great compliments about Akahito (too bad he's not a major character, huh? ^_^) Oh, and I've read through chap 23 of the "The Promise", and I can't wait for more! You've got another hooked fan! ^_^
Nako-chan: Yeah, I know that having so many chapters already written but not posting them is kinda cruel, but it's helped a lot in letting me update at a regular pace. If I wrote and posted my chapters one right after the other, my updates would be very erratic.
Thanks a lot for all your reviews!! I love to read them over and over again when I'm having trouble sitting down and staying there long enough to write. ^_^ Love you all!