Despereaux
Chapter 1: With you
T H I S S T O R Y B E G I N S with a poor six year old girl named Ino Yamanaka. Currently, eighteen and has dreams that remained un-relished for twelve horrid years. Reader, be cautioned that this story is not faint of heart. This story shall contain unimaginable angst and tragedy ahead. Not all stories end with a happy ending…will this?
Reader, it is your duty to find out.
To understand Ino's current state we must travel back-wards. Why were Ino's dreams un-relished for twelve years? Has her dreams been relished now that she is eighteen? Let's go back …back to when Ino was a heart-broken little girl. Let's go back …back to when her mother disappeared. Forever.
Ino was a poor girl in a simple poor family with beautiful dreams. She always dreamed about how she would one day be queen and give money to the poor unlike their current ruler who collects daily tax even though the village has nothing to offer.
She had heard many tales from her mother about the village's unseen prince. A prince named Nara Shikamaru, the King's pampered son. Ino wanted to meet him. He was held in security though. Deep, DEEP within the walls of the stone castle by his father and is barely seen outside, in the light with other children.
Nara Shikato was very cautious about people his son is around. He certainly did not want a filthy poor girl in his son's life. After-all that would be considered bad influence. There was a one out of ten chance she would ever meet Shikamaru. She believed oneday she would...and she would be the one to save him from darkness.
There was absolutely no way a pauper can save a prince in the villager's eyes. But really, who could blame Ino? She was six years old after-all. She was so innocent, so full of life.
Until it happened.
She soon learned that nobody cares about your wants …if you're nobody. Not even your dreams.
InoYamanaka was a mere six years old when her mother, holding onto Ino's hand and staring directly into Ino's eyes, died.
''Mother?'' said Ino barely above a whisper. ''Mother, couldn't you stay here with me?''
''Who is that?'' asked her mother as she shifted around to face Ino, who was sobbing silently on the wooden chair beside her bed. ''Who is that holding my hand?''
''It's me, mother, Ino Yamanaka.''
''Ah, child, let me go.''
''But I want you to stay here,'' said Ino, wiping first her uncontrollable runny nose and then runny eyes.
''You want,'' said her mother.
''Yes,'' said Ino. ''I want.''
''Ah, child, and what does it matter what you are wanting?'' said her mother. She squeezed Ino's hand once, twice and then she died, leaving Ino alone with her father, who, on a market day in the late spring soon after his wife's death sold her for a handful of cigarettes and a blood-red table cloth.
''Father?'' questioned Ino confusedly when her father began walking away from her with a cigarette in his mouth and a red table cloth draped around his shoulders like a cape.
''Go on, Ino,'' he said casually. ''You belong to that man now.''
''But I don't want to, father,'' she said. ''I want to go with you.'' She took hold of the red tablecloth and tugged on it.
''Lord, Child,'' her father said, ''and who is asking what you want? Go on now.'' He untangled her fingers from the cloth and turned her roughly to the direction of the man who had bought her.
Ino watched as her father walked away, the red tablecloth billowing out behind him. He left his daughter and he did not even bother to look back. She was crying and calling for him. He did not look back. He did not.
Not even once.
Ino's life was horrible, a complete hell for the next few 12 years…until she met a man.
A man named Nara Shikamaru.