Synopsis: They had it attached all of their lives, but what happens to a puppet when the strings are cut?
Prologue
The sky is as infinite as it always had been. A crystal clear basilica where the birds stage their melodic twittering as they race along the sweet bursts of the gentle air, cooling and refreshing in combination with the sunshine that brought a calm sense of awe as soon as it reaches down the earth. An everyday wonder as the ethereal light reflects from the foliage and feathers. The golden ray was warm and soft, wending its way through everything underneath its mighty ball and made the flowers blossom into brilliant mosaics that gave a vivacious hue to the living world.
Somewhere below the magnificent heavens, a beautiful maiden with a crown mirroring the serenity overhead sat at the engawa of an okiya while she nimbly pluck the language of the universe. A heavenly vibration that fills the air with profound emotion without much effort than with an ink and a parchment ever could.
Strum—
She felt the subtle tingles in her fingers as soon as her music stopped, caught off guard by the enthralling bloom of the Sakura that suddenly fell on her lap before reaching to touch the pink petals of the fleeting beauty, eyes as purple as the elegant garlands of wisteria softened into that of an aching slant when her sight flows from tree to tree, noticing the green flags that dances with the ever-soothing wind.
Catching herself from a spontaneous reverie, the intricate floral ornament that held her traditional updo gave off a distinctive pleasant chime while accompanying the graceful shake of her head, a futile attempt in escaping the vice of melancholy that grips at her heart whenever the painful reminder of how the universe did it's best to be unkind comes into mind...
A memory of fiery hair and a gentle smile on a face that she had longed to see before resting for the twilight and arising to at the break of dawn.
Strum~
The blossom flew from her fingers that fractionally moved slower as the maiden resumed the poetic movements, immersing herself in the arms of the blues brought by the dulled shard in her gut while carrying out a tune that existed in the intense moment of love that was given out without trying, born from the looks that were barely glances and instilled in the bond that was made accidentally. Each soulful caress on the shamisen was an egress for one dreamscape into another, a tidal flow of emotions hidden within.
A secret world that she tried vainly to live in...
There were only a few things that made of her - a selfish expectation for she was not meant to feel. She was not meant to love. Her sole business was to sell a dream of luxury, romance and exclusivity.
With skin as smooth and as impeccable as porcelain, wrapped in the finest silk - the perfect wardrobe for a woman so desired by many but not meant to be touched by any.
With face - a beautiful mask, painted with proficient strokes of culture and tradition that shelters the innocent and fragile soul from within.
With lips, tinted with the color of the forbidden fruit that inspires sinful ways, inculcated with the gift of expression that entices and enchants even the shrewdest of intellect.
With skills honed after years of strict indoctrination, mastery of the different crafts for conversation where beauty is the only known language.
She is an embodiment of culture and refinement.
The image of a perfect woman.
A living work of art.
A/N:
A product of a 2AM thought - after watching a movie that I'm pretty sure by now you would have already guessed...Still indecisive if I'm going to follow the story line though.
Botan may be a little OOC in here but I'll try my best to keep everything canon or whatever is necessary given her background in the story that I had in mind.
Apologies for the infrequent updates! Been busy with stuffs... and another sorry for posting a new story when I haven't finished the other ones.
Well...Tell me what you think?
Thank you for reading!
Xoxo
