Okay. . . that's it its official. Computer Disks are completely useless. . . A word to the wise. . . which obviously I'm not. . . always have a backup copy of your work on your computer. . . I had a brand new disk with this chapter on it. . . written absolutely gorgeously. . . and the disk wouldn't read. . . so now I have to rewrite this. . . AIEE!! Sorry. . . give me a minute. . . I'll cool off. . . .I guess I'm also mad because it destroyed my Dragon Knights Pictures as well. . . *sigh*
Oh well. . .
Anyway. . . I'm rewriting this, so who knows. . . maybe it will turn out better than before. . . .
Oh yeah. . . A little note. . . I know that I said last chapter that I was going to tell you about how Makoto-chan got her sword techniques, but I changed my mind. . . that ain't going to happen 'til next chapter. . . hee hee.. . .
R&R&R!!!!!!
Kasumi: WHAT?
Yumi: Read Review and Return
Kasumi: Ah. . ..
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Disclaimer: You know what? I want to make this interesting. . . .
You no sue
'Cause me no own
Sailor Moon or
Kenshin *moan*
Heh! Didn't work. . . oh well. . . I read this really cute one before. . . so I thought I'd try. . . who knows maybe I can use it next time. . . (I have to ask first)
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Memories of the Past Part II
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Dawn awoke on the small village east of Tokyo as a girl, six years of age, sat on the steps of her home, sobbing softly. One year had passed swiftly as Makoto grew with the realization that her brother, someone she couldn't remember meeting, but still had great love for him, was a tragic loss. Her heart had been broken, but her life had to move on. The old woman was selling her to a rich man in Kyoto and he wouldn't want her to be a crybaby, right? The old woman, her caretaker was more involved in the ways of the world, money and material things, than love and devotion.
Drying her eyes, Makoto stood, picking up the empty basket beside her, and slowly trudged around the house for her early morning chore. The garden was ripe by September of that year and the old woman insisted that Makoto picked everything before her rich partner arrived the following morning. The garden had been planted by Makoto earlier that year; the hours lost in the work were torturing and long, carefully sowing and the weeding the earth to give the best conditions for them to grow.
After several hours, the hour noon came along, and she was still slowly trudging up and down the rows, gathering the ripened tomatoes, carrots, and ever other vegetable imaginable. Finally on her last row, she paused for a moment, slipping several cherry tomatoes into her ragged kimono's pockets, before taking up her morning's work and heading back to the house. The large basket was heavy, but she did not care; she was used to this weight from her other work.
Stepping into the area with the fountain, A bucket collided with Makoto's head as the old woman bellowed, "Where have you been?!?" Her deep blue eyes flared with red anger.
Startled, Makoto stooped, picking up the metal bucket while looking at the woman without fear or regret. "I was. . .uhm . . . gathering fresh vegetables for your guest tomorrow, ma'am"
The woman was obviously looking for a reason to punish her, but after looking at the full basket in Makoto's hand, she subdued. "Fine," she said her frown twisting into a smirk. "I want you to pick fresh fruit, too, Makoto. And I want to be able to see myself in these floors before I get back. Understand?"
'Obviously' Makoto thought 'She's going shopping again.' The woman had made shopping a daily ritual in her lie lately. "Yes ma'am," she replied. The woman retreated for her coin purse. "It will be done," she said audibly. With a softer tone, she continues, "Go spend your money, Baka."
Carrying the bucket in one hand and tediously clutching the basket she made her way to the kitchen where she promptly settled in and searched for another basket. In the far reaches of a deep, musky cabinet, she finally found one she was looking for, but there was a long, shiny, metal object lay in it. Sears of pain immediately shot up her scars as she looked at the very, bloodied knife that had been used on her the year before. Shuddering, she dropped a cloth over it, not wanting to touch the knife that had caused her so much pain. Without much of an adieu, she left for the nearby forest that was swarming with fruits.
She had barely been gathering the fruits of the Earth when a scream erupted from near her. Glancing around, she saw nothing but trees and bushes, but she knew she had heard that voice and that it had been from the forest, but where did it come from? She stood to gaze around the bushes that surrounded her in every direction. No other noise was heard, except the gurgling of the nearby stream and the rustles of the whistling wind racing by the bushes.
Puzzled, she dropped to her knees as she turned around, ready to return to her work. Only one problem: A human foot sat in her way. Her eyes followed the foot up the owner's leg, doused in a black outfit, up his chest and his arms, to his face, contorted with a malicious smile smirking down at her. In his hand he held a long tachi in his hand that glittered in blood. "Come here, little girly," he said seductively. "I won't hurt you. Just come here."
Petrified, Makoto slowly backed away form the man with no soul behind his eyes. She shook her head slightly and stumbled backwards over a big rock. The man just walked closer, still urging her to come to him, still wielding his long katana. {AN: Tachi is a long Katana}. She shook her head decisively, picking up the rock in her finger and throwing it with all the strength her six-year-old-body could muster, before dashing to her basket to fetch the knife.
Spinning around after her victory, she gazed, confused, into space. The man was gone. Her crystal green eyes darted around the small clearing and her surroundings, but no sight of her assailant. 'Where is he?' she thought. 'He couldn't have vanished that fast!' Suddenly a fast swooshing sound behind her and the searing pain in her shoulder told her exactly where he had gone. Somehow he had gotten behind her and struck.
In pain, she screamed, but only slightly. Acting on instinct, she swung her arms up over her head, striking squarely in the man's upper right thigh. As he winced in pain, she spun, removed her knife and struck again, this time in the man's chest.
Bleeding severely, the man dropped face-forward in front of Makoto, his limp fingers releasing the katana in his hand. Blood dripping down her arm, Makoto stood shakily, poised and ready with her knife to strike if he moved even half an inch. But something caught her attention.
In the direction of the village, voices crying out in agony and pain were sounded, but suddenly silenced in a short moment. Frightened, Makoto crept to the edge of the forest to peer into the village. But her view was blocked, obscured by the houses and businesses dotting the landscape. Slowly, knife still clutched in her bloody hand, she slipped into the silent village, alert and waiting for any sign of movement the village offered. As she stepped into the village square, she froze.
There, before her, lay the people of her village, murdered in cold blood. The bodies were strewn on top of one another, katanas, daggers, and spears poking form their backs, their faces obscured into horror and fear. The town was in ruin, the walls splattered with the blood of the people and their bodies. It was too much to bear.
She shrank among the bodies, looking for any signs of life out of instinct, but none were found. She slipped and fell face forward over a body, the body of the old woman who shunned her all her life. Her hideous face was twisted in agony, as though she had seen her husband, who lay beside her, be slain by the evil men who attacked the village. A realization settled in on her. She mouthed the words, unable to speak them to the silence of the dusk.
"I am alone. . ."
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Once again guys, sorry 'bout the wait! I know it's been a while, but like I said, the stupid disk broke! Also, I haven't been able to write because of school and everything, but I'm back!!!
Pop Quiz: A special recognition for the person(s) who guesses right!
How old am I making Makoto-chan when I get back into the main storyline with Kenshin?
Results posted soon!!!
Ciao for now!!
Princess Ikumi-chan
P.S. Please direct any questions to my email. . . .
mekbuda_gemini@yahoo.com
Thankiez!!
Ciao!