Drabbles
Harumi
Her name meant clear weather. But as you learn when you're a freedom fighter, titles mean nothing.
Scars
The slashes across her cheeks, like the red leaves that never fell from the forest trees, marked her for a job she was never ready for.
Distance
"Stop treating me like I need your help! I'm not helpless!" she needed time, and space to learn to stop blaming herself.
Observation
He learned by watching her, that there are different ways of dealing with pain then his own.
Reluctance
Making friends, for a boy who never spoke, could prove to be a challenge. But in her case, it proved to be more treacherous.
Closed
She didn't want friends. They lead to connections, which led to bonds, which…eventually…led to pain. And she didn't think she could handle any more pain.
Children
They were all children, none more than sixteen. But war and hard ship had changed them, molded them into hardened versions of themselves.
Toys
She didn't play with dolls, or cloths, or tea sets. Instead she passed her time with knives and swords. She became skilled and fearsome. Maybe that's what got them started.
Life
She never enjoyed killing, but when those men tried to hurt him, the only boy who had ever reached out to her, she found relish in spilling their crimson blood.
Maybe
He thought she didn't care about him, but as he watched her jump to defend him, he realized that maybe his attempts to connect hadn't been a waste of time after all.