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A Thousand Blossoms

Started by Anadwen, April 16, 2014, 08:22:40 AM

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Anadwen

22 pages of prose about the Adachis. Warning: 4th interlude is violent and a little bloody. Also, send reviews, please! Either IM them, or post on here ^_^


Part one: Of audience, heroes and hearts

Just like the winter sun's soothing touch strokes the frozen lands, a glance embraces a sight, stuck in a moment. Just like the soft petals of a blossoming cherry, spiraling onto the ground in the soft carress of the breeze that carries it, it falls upon the scenery that opens up before the eye. But just like the touch of a winter sun, just like a flight of a petal, it is too subtle to be grasped, and only slips through the sight. It is but a mere moment, and the glance is only a silent observer.

It has no right to affect the flow of events.

It has no right to decide whether there be life, or death.

That is the nature of the observing audience, standing by. That is why it is seated, while the act happens before their wide eyes, and it has no effect on the events that shall unfold.

But she comes none the less.

She returns every time, even though she is nothing but a mere observer that is too thunderstruck to even clap, chant, or attempt to affect the act by advising the actors. She is frozen, even though she does not yet know. For though the heart within her chest keeps beating, like a hummingbird yearning to be freed of its cage beats into the air with its tireless wings, it flies up, flutters and freezes every time she lays her sight upon the scene. Frozen.

Sometimes, all of us need heroes to save us from the horrors, someone that would lay his life for us. However, when that happens, we still mourn. But this mourning passes, and we can live on. So what was her hero different in? What did he have that others lacked?

He had a piece of her heart.

A very precious shard of the vessel of her soul. The other pieces could not hold together any more was one to be lost, and that was what she feared. She feared that her heart would break, would he perish, and with him take that one missing shard.

But oh, she fears naught for herself, she fears for him. A heart is different from other gifts - once given, it can no longer be returned unbroken. He would never break it, but with him gone, the one shard, the key piece of an unrepeatable puzzle, similar to a key that opens a lock, would be broken, and there is nothing that could put the edges, jagged and sharp, back together, no hands of such great skill, nor is there anything that could ever replace it.

That was why she always returns. Even though the embers of fire in her eyes burn out with every glance, she holds onto her hope.

Naive, wouldn't you call her? Wouldn't you ask her why she wishes for something as impossible? She could get a pair of wings and fly up into the air like a swan just as easily.

But if you think she would listen, you are naive. She hears nothing but his breath, and while that lasts, she will hold onto her faint hope, like the captain of a ship, rocked by the fierce waves in a storm, keeps looking out for the shore, keeps searching for the safety of a shelter.

Interlude: Why do you keep trying?

Dull, repeated thudding was a sound that would be heard by anyone who would even so little as pass the door of the training hall. Sometimes, there was one or two clinks of metal; sometimes, there would be a pattern of silent steps or a crack. But the thudding was both the loudest, and the most frequent sound.

Everybody got already used to it, even if it was annoying. Hardly anyone paid any attention to the sounds, coming from the training hall, because they were all well aware of their cause. People aren't afraid of things they know, because they know how to change them, or stop them.

Next to the door sat a girl. Playing with the wisps of her silky black hair, she watched the scarce bypassers, and waited for the two-winged door of dark wood to open. It appeared that without any results, because Shinobu sat on the same place for two hours already, and the door still didn't open. Yes, training needs peace, but... Her glance sled onto the tray with food - a bowl of rice, fish, and a glass of water - and she shook her head. How could someone refuse to eat after being awake since sunrise? And did he sleep, even? She wouldn't be surprised if he trained even at night. How fortunate that her room was far from the training hall, otherwise she wouldn't sleep all night because of the noise he was making!

All of a sudden, a different, louder noise, startled her and broke her out of her pondering. It sounded like a loud crash, combined with clinking of metal, and a few stomps. Something cracked, as if breaking, and there was a hiss, coming from behind the door. Without thinking, she picked the tray up, and kicked the door open.

He was there, just like always, but this time, he was bending above his sword, laying across the floor. Its blade was a little bloodied, and she noticed that a stream of red was dripping off his fingers, too. On the side was a pile of damaged remains of a training dummy, and a crack in the wall.

She raised a brow in a question, and her eyes met with his. Both remained silent. The air of expectations, untold words and thoughts, was so thick that a sharp enough blade could cut through it. Eventually, Shinobu's glance made way, and she looked down, placing the tray before him.
"Here's your food. No, I don't care if you want it, or not. What happened?" she mumbled. He looked away. "A bad strike."
Again just a raised brow. "Did you break the wall?" she burst out.
He shook his head.
"Did you cut yourself?"
This time, he gave her a short nod.

She stepped closer, and took his hand to hers, studying the thin, slightly crooked line, running across his palm to his wrist.
"I dropped the blade when it hit the wall. The crash shook the sword with such power that I let go off it. When I tried to catch it, I touched the blade." he explained shortly. Their glances were still avoiding each other. She made a motion that could have been either a nod, or a careless shrug, and wrapped his hand in the long thread that usually fulfilled the function of a belt, holding her robe up. It may have made the black fabric hang around her thin figure like a scarecrow's gown, but she paid no heed to it.

He pulled his hand back with a short, sharp move. No thanks, not a word, all he did was pick up his katana again, and clean the blade, taking it into his hands, and shifted into an attacking stance again.

As Shinobu sat down in the corner of the hall, she wondered whether he even noticed the food at all.

Her brother kept beating into another training dummy. Blow after blow, he was chopping it to pieces, but even though he was fast and strong, his strikes were imperfect. As if done with too much hot-blooded rage, there was too much force, and not enough finesse... Was that how their father said it?

Shinobu's patience eventually ran out. She let out a sigh, and standing up, she approached him.
"So are you going to eat it, or not?" Her voice was full of annoyance and impatience.
He shook his head, then shrugged, too busy with training to answer with words.
"Is that a yes, or no?" the girl rolled her eyes over, folding her arms on her chest.
"It's a maybe. Leave me alone." he growled back, turning his back to her. He made a sure strike at the head of the dummy, and the blade dove into half of it, before it was stopped by the hard wood.

She sighed again. "Father says that you have to eat."
"I know what I have to, or don't have to do." It was closer to a hiss than a growl.
"You'll faint again."
"You're distracting me. Leave."
"I'm not going to drag you across the whole house!" she burst out angrily.
"Leave me alone! Get lost!" he shouted out.
"You're wasting time! Why are you even doing it? You're not good in it, anyway!"

It was an unfair strike. He froze with the blade of his sword in mid-air, and turned around, slowly facing her. Shinobu stood there with her arms crossed, frowning at him.
"I'm doing it to become a warrior!" He drew a sharp breath in. "To be a warrior like father. To protect you, and Isako! That's what I was born for! And now get lost before I help you out!"

Shinobu saw that his patience has ran out, and hurried out of the hall, noiselessly like a ghost, while her long robes comically trailed behind her.

It was evening, and she carried a small lantern with herself, when she returned to the training hall. Before the door, she halted, listening. There was silence... Unusual. She expected the typical thudding again. After that, she simply shrugged, and kicked the door in.

It was quite dark inside. The tray with food was where she put it before, untouched - only the glass of water was empty. Her eyes searched for her brother, though it was difficult in the dim light of a sole lantern.

Then she found him - a dark shape on the floor. He was stretched across the ground, still clenching his katana. Shinobu stepped closer, and noticed a stream of blood, flowing out of the corner of his mouth. From afar, it appeared almost black, but when she reached out with the lantern, its warm light revealed the true color, a glimmering crimson, violently breaking the peace of his beautiful face. His eyes were aimed at something indistinct, but they were hollow and blank. Even if she spoke up, he wouldn't hear her.

Shinobu squatted right beside him, placing the lantern onto the floor, and taking his hand to hers. It was cold...
"Why do you keep trying, Seiki?" she whispered.
His stare seemed to focus, and his eyes found her.

"To protect you..."


Part two: Silence

Some say that time heals all wounds. But that isn't right. There are some that don't get enough of it. And there are some that are simply too deep to ever heal.

She comes. Once again, she comes, in complete silence, which the clattering of her heels, as loud as a scream in the surrounding quiet, punctures, but doesn't break, only strenghtens the feeling of solitude. At this time, even if the room would be full of people, every and each one of them would be alone in his thoughts. There were no words, not even a short utterance here.

And so she comes, but says naught.

There are many different types of silence: as she stands amid the room, not only one envelops her figure, resembling a finely crafted porcelain doll. There is a great silence, which is the sole absence of sounds. Would she say a single word, it would shatter to pieces, and the echoes of her voice would break it, just like a hammer breaks the glass. But she was silent, so this silence remained.
The second silence was somewhat different. It was the silence of waiting - a deeper, less apparent one. It was creeping out of the corners and dripping from the ceiling in the heavy air of expectations. It was a tense silence, like a bowstring, ready to break anytime someone would try to stretch it even further.
And the third silence was hers, only her own. A deeper one, which devours all, but it was hidden inside her, and therefore, one could only sense it if he'd listen for long enough. It was in the small branch of a cherry that she held, in the petals of its blossoms, in the silken threads on her dress, in her long black hair...

She carries the three kinds of silence with herself as she comes. Her figure passes through the lifeless air, followed by the sound of clicking heels and softly waving fabrics, moving around her body. Her fingers spin the branch, but her gaze doesn't turn to it. Instead, it only faces forth, empty like an old box. All in black - unusual for her. But black was his favorite color.

She kneels down beside the bed, careful not to tear her tights, and folds her arms on its edge with the grace so own to her.

Off course, he was still there.

Silent again.

Has he spoken a word since she last saw him? Not likely. She picks up the flower, and gently places it upon the blanket, folded on his chest. It keeps lifting and sinking in his breath, but that is too shallow to make it slide down. The crimson of her irises mirrors it like a mountain lake mirrors the stars of a bright night, but her glance is frozen.

Her very own hero, or at least so she has always thought of him. The one that had a piece of her heart, maybe even bigger than anyone else.

The back of her hand stroke his pale cheek, followed by her glance, which carefully studied everything about him as if she hasn't seen him a thousand times. He had sharp, but elegant features, skin as light and soft and porcelain, and long, dark lashes, which hid his eyes, blue like midnight. The strands of his long hair, blacker than the darkness of night shadows, were spread around his head on the pillow, only a few lined his face. Now, he appeared even thinner than usually, his skin enveloping his tall cheekbones and sharp chin, but that made him no less beautiful.

And yet, he appeared so... Dead.

Barely breathing, not moving once. The fire in her eyes burned out upon realizing that nothing has changed since the last time she came here, but she refused to leave. Her hands entwined around his shoulder, and she laid her head down by his side. Ah, will he wake up soon?

Will he ever wake up again?

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she dove her face into the blankets, full of his scent. It was like the blossoms of sakura trees, and it was like cold steel, and soft breeze... Her fingers clenched around the edge of the fabric, holding it tight, and its thickness drowned out her sobs. She needed him to wake up, to hold her hand and say everything will be fine again! So strong, like the steel of his blade, which now lay by his side, cold without his touch. She needed him to hide her in his embrace, and show her that not everything is lost yet.

But he wouldn't, because he couldn't! He didn't hear her, he couldn't fulfill her wishes! Was he even here with his mind? The chain that held his fate... She could almost see it, and she was afraid that its irons would crack, and he'd be gone!

"Please, come back..." she whispered.
"I need you here. We all need you."
She closed her eyes, and gripped the blanket stronger.
"Come back, Seiki."

Interlude: My deal, my task, my role

Majestic would be the best word to describe that night. Everything was astonishing - not only the hall, adorned for a large and opulent ceremony, but also the guests. Even the mood itself had a taste of wonder!

A large crowd has gathered there. The hall's walls were black, only lanterns burned above the path in the middle, casting their distorted light on the heads of the present, and the wooden floor. Every one had his weapon by his side or on his back, and they were all clothed in the black and white robes of warriors. The head of the clan stood on the end, before the path, where on a stand was a sole long Zanpakuto, the soul-cutter sword only a proven warrior could carry. It was a beautiful sword, by now hidden in a black sheath. Its hilt was black and silver, adorned by a bell, chain, and a black ribbon on its end, and carved so masterfully that it appeared impossible for it to be a creation of hands - it was closer to a perfect work of nature, a collection of elegant curves and sharp tips that held together in an almost unearthly harmony.

And then the door opened. If Takuya in his traditional white coat, pinned by a silver chain, was majestic, then the one that entered was more than that, more than incredible.

On the black robes, lined with white, he wore a large silken scarf, hung over his shoulders, with a silver dragon embroidered into the dark fabric. His long hair was pinned into an ornament, clasped to it, which resembled halved tubes, crafted from a bright metal, and softly cascading onto his shoulders, only a few wisps, darker than the night, falling into his face. All eyes of the crowd turned to him.

He passed through the hall with long, confident steps, not looking to his left or right, only at the sword before him. His sword. His very own Zanpakuto.

Those weapons were serious business. Every one that carried such blade had power, authority, and prowess. To bear a soul-cutter meant to be a warrior.

He passed through the crowd, turning after him with every step forth he made. He was calm as always, like the clouds before a storm, and remained so even when he stood before the blade, waiting for him. He kneeled before it, and bowed his head to his father.

"Seiki Naohiro Adachi," Takuya begun his speech. He didn't even flick a brow at the sound of his name, but patiently waited for his father to say his speech. It wasn't long, but its importance was great for the ceremony. Before one could become a warrior and bear his sword, he had to swear on a few things...

"Do you swear to never hurt an innocent with this blade?" The strong voice of the head of the clan echoed through the hall. Seiki drew a breath in.
"I swear." His own voice was quieter, but crystal-clear. Everyone could hear it.
"Do you swear to use it for good, to protect, not harm?"
"I swear." This time, he agreed louder. It was almost over.
"And do you swear to fight whatever might threaten the lives of the innocent, and protect whoever in danger regardless of their position with it?"

For a moment that felt like an eternity, there was silence. The deepest silence there ever could be, deeper than the bottom of the ocean, and deeper than the depths of one's mind. It was all-consuming and enveloping, it wrapped around the crowd like a blanket, covering their figures, it hid the the head of the clan, it hid the blade, and it hid the young warrior.

Till he pierced it like an arrow, flying through the air.

"By the names of my fathers I swear, and shall I be stripped of all my honor should I not keep this oath."

His voice was cold and crisp, and it shattered the silence like a shard of ice, breaking into a calm surface of a pond. All eyes were fixed to him, watching every move he made, even his breaths, though he remained motionless like a statue thorought all the long time.

"Then, I call you worthy of bearing this blade." Takuya announced, and bent over, handing his son the long katana. Seiki's hands gripped around the sheath, slowly taking it to himself, and he was still on his knees, even when his father let go off the blade.
"Do not let another's hand wield what is yours, my son." the head of the clan reminded him for the last time.

Then, an applause broke out. A hundred pairs of hands clapped, a strange form of congratulation. He was now a rightfull member of the clan, a warrior... His life-long goal was one step - or a huge leap - closer to fulfillment. To many, the sword-receiving ceremony was just another formality. To others, it was tradition that needed to be held to keep the house's glory and strength. But there were some, and he was one of them, for who it was one of the most important moments in their lives. The moment when they became rightfull warriors, the moment when they received their ultimate right - the right to fight the evil. It was what he always wished for, the meaning of his whole life. What else was there?

It was his deal. His task and his role. It was his life.

He stood up with grace, his back only slightly arched back, as he carried his weapon with pride, but still humble in his silence. Slowly turning, he faced the crowd. His family... He was now one of them. A warrior. All eyes were still at him, watching how he begun his way to the middle of the hall, with light, flowing steps bringing his soul-cutter into the middle. It was time to name it...

His hand clenched around the hilt, feeling the threads, wrapped around the wood. It was a beautiful weapon, long, but slim, with cold and calm beauty similar to that of its bearer. Then, he unsheathed the huge blade. It was unusually large - most Zanpakutos didn't have a blade of such size, but after all, each one was different. And this one, his own, felt just right in his hands.

The blade bore a slight flame-like pattern on one edge, though, to him it resembled the slow fall of a blossom, instead of fire.

Blood-red blossom.

That was its name... He could hear it inside his head. It seemed... Right.

It will be the right tool to right the world, or at least rid it of evil spirits. Oh, there couldn't be a better one. It was perfect.

And Seiki was happy.


Part three: Wish for a mirracle

She was found just like that, and painfully dragged back into the cold and harsh reality when the silence shattered. It was merciless - a single sound broke the chain of her thoughts, and brought her to the present moment in an instant, without any compassion.

The sound was hardly louder than a whisper. It was but a few light footsteps of feet in sandals, walking only a little heavier than the breeze, dancing on stalks of grass, and yet they were so loud they completely destroyed all three kinds of silence. She looked up at the newcommer, and her eyes filled with tears, mixing sadness with relief. Maybe now she'd get her answers...

The hope was faint, but she'd hold onto anything at all.

Who entered was a woman, somewhat similar to her - especially in her long black hair, fragile-looking build, and a pair of large, round eyes. Those were, however, deep grey orbs, not crimson mirrors like hers. She stepped forth, letting her red dress trail behind, and bent over a little, facing her.

"I see you have been visiting him today again." she spoke quietly. "That's nice of you, Isako."
Isako pulled his hand to her, and her own fingers entwined around it. "I couldn't stand it alone." she whispered. "I miss his voice, I miss his eyes, I miss his... Everything." In the middle of the sentence, her voice broke, and rivers of tears streamed out of her eyes, which softly closed to hold them back.
"I'm doing what I could, but he hasn't woken up yet." Even in the other one's voice appeared concern. "Maybe... It's better that he hasn't. He'd be in pain if he would."
"I need him back, Haru. I need my brother back." Isako looked down, but her gaze slowly sled back to his face. "I can't lose him, too!"

Haru squatted down beside her, and put one hand onto her shoulder. "He will get better. Don't cry, Isako." she assured her gently, and wiped the tears off her cheeks. The same hands helped her stand up, and then, she turned to tend to Seiki.
She checked how he is doing, but no matter how carefully Isako watched, she couldn't see what she made of it. Her fingers pressed onto his neck, his wrist, carefully moved around his body, while Haru herself muttered something silently.

Eventually, she stood up, and took a deep breath. "His life functions are all working fine..." she started speaking, but got stuck in the middle. Isako raised a brow, and made a small step towards her.
"But? Is... Something wrong?" she whispered.
"His wounds are only healing very slowly. I..." she reached into her hair, and flicked one long wisp behind her ear. "I'm not sure if we will have enought time. Who knows how long I can keep him in this state..." She stopped speaking upon noticing that Isako broke into tears again. She crumbled to her knees, and hid her face in her hands, drowning her sighs in her palms. Haru bent over, and took her to her embrace.
"I won't let him die, Isako. I won't. Trust me." she whispered. The small figure in her hands was shaken by her tears, flinching every moment.
"He's my brother... Who else... Do I have? I can't... Not worry... And I hate... To see him like this!" she mumbled between the sighs, and dropped down, letting Haru hold her. Her high shoes scratched the floor when her legs stretched across it, devoid of any controll of her will.

The taller girl picked her up, and made her sit down on the edge of the bed. She let out a deep sigh, and sat beside her. "All of us are doing what we can... But you know how it is with his wounds. His blade came straight through. It was supposed to be lethal, and he was lucky to make a bad strike, which didn't tear him entirely. If I didn't know him, I'd say his hands shook. It's... Difficult to heal it... I hope we'll have the time need. If we do, then all will be fine, and he should heal alright. If we don't... We have to find another way."
"Or hope for a mirracle." Isako added.
"Or that..." Haru nodded, staring somewhere into the indistinct distance.
"But he said that mirracles don't happen."
"Maybe... Once, in his case, one will."

How she hoped it would.

They both did.

Haru took another deep breath before her next announcement, but upon looking into Isako's deep eyes, full of desperation, the words got stuck in her throat, and they refused to leave her mouth.

She sighed. "All... Will be... Fine." she whispered.
"I wish."
"I wish, too."
"Let's wish together..." Isako offered, looking up through her tears. She turned around, and reached after Seiki's hand. "We'll wish for you. And... You'll be alright, won't you? If we'll wish enough..."

But what if he was right? What if you don't get what you don't fight for with your nails and teeth? And mirracles really don't happen... He never believed in them. Even though they lived their whole lives surrounded by spirits, he still believed in nothing more spiritual, nothing more magical than that. Such a strict, pragmatic, and skeptic man.
But she was different... Like a child, she believed in it all. Maybe that was why she always appeared so gentle and innocent. She was a mirracle by herself.

The only mirracle in which he ever believed. 

Mirracles should be protected, else they may face the danger of being destroyed by the world. That's what heroes are for... And she couldn't lose her hero, ever! Who'd stand there to protect her? Who'd save her from the dangers? Who'd hold her when she'd need a guide, who'd find her in a dark forest and lead her back into the light?

No other could! She needs him.

And so, she hopes for a mirracle.

Interlude: My Guardian

A strange mixture of howls and screams echoed through the gardens. It was ear-ripping, louder than the roars of a dragon, and seemed to be nothing natural. One of the sounds was a low howl, a horrible, beastial scream, while the other was a high-pitched shout. It wasn't the usual mixture of sounds for a morning among the sakura trees.

Their blossoms were destroyed, ripped, broken, and stomped upon. It appeared like a storm has gone through there, broke the branches and dug deep lines into the ground. But what really happened was a little... Different.

It was no storm.

She kept running. Kicked her shoes off and bolted through the gardens towards the family residence, towards the safety of a shelter. She had to be fast enough, otherwise she'd be just as good as dead! And she screamed, calling for anyone that could hear her to come and help her...

Almost out of breath. Something under her feet let go, and she fell over, stretching on the ground as tall as she was. She could already feel it reaching after her, it ripped a part of her skirt off... Climbing to her feet, she started running again. The roofs were so close... But too far. It was behind her back, the howls were too close for her to escape them.

If someone'd be near, they'd hear her... Anyone. Father, the smith, her brother or her sister, whoever could save her!

It grabbed at her again, and she leaped forth to escape the claws. The walls of the house were before her... Just a moment and she'll be there.

She threw herself into the open door. But to her surprise, she didn't crumble onto the floor, but hit something... Soft. Her eyes ran up the black fabric that appeared before her, and saw a familiar face, lined by dark hair. The familiar cold eyes, and a handle of a sword beside. She'd never think she could be so happy to see him, to watch him draw his soul-cutter from its sheath, and gripping onto his robe, let him drag her towards the monster.

A white mask, and black body. Off course, a spirit. She let go off him, dropping onto the stairs.

Before her eyes was now just a mesh, too fast for her to grasp. He ran around the turning ghost, and leaped towards its head from the back, slashing at it with his sword. It sliced it clean, cutting the large head straight off. The mask, resembling a skull, broke under the strong blow of his Zanpakuto, and it crubled to ash. His tall figure was all that remained in the carnage, done in the blink of an eye. She wondered how could he even be this fast... Like a lightning...

Her guardian.

He turned and faced her, coming closer. Frowning? No, that must have been a mistake. He never frowned... She stood up, sheepishly glancing at her shoeless feet. He was towering above her, hiding her in his shadow, and his hand appeared underneath her chin, softly raising her head.
"Are you hurt?" She recognized his voice, but her head was still too confused to get out a meaningfull answer, and so, she just nodded.
"You lost your shoes." he added. "You should go search for them."
Another nod. Only then she noticed how perfectly calm he was...
"Aren't you... Angry?" she whispered, holding onto his arm.

He raised a brow, and shook his head. "Why should I be angry, Isa?" he asked her, and squatted beside her, so his head was somewhere by her shoulders. She stared into his dark blue eyes, and a tear rolled down her cheek.
"I thought you'd get angry that I got chased by one of... Them again. And that I lost my sandals. And... That you had to fight it." she answered, suddenly avoiding his piercing glance, and stepping from one foot to the other.
"That is no reason for me to be angry. It wasn't your fault. I'm glad you reached me soon enough." Seiki explained her, stroking her cheek. "And don't cry. It's alright."
"How... Not my fault? It chased me... How else, then...?"
"It's an old matter. The spirits are attracted to you... Like a magnet. That's because you have strong spirit energy. They'll always chase you, just as they chase me, or Shinobu, or our father. It's something we have to learn to live with... And that's why we're warriors, you know? And it's my task to protect you, because you have a special gift."
"A... I have a gift? What gift?" Isako asked shyly. 
He tilted his head aside. One long wisp of hair sled over the bridge of his nose, and her little hand picked it up, and moved it away.

"A gift to send the ghosts to the other side." he explained plainly, with one hand on her shoulder. "It's a rare, but very useful one."
Embers of fire were lit in her eyes, and the edges of her mouth raised to a smile. "So... You're... Supposed to protect me?"

Seiki stood up, and gave her a short nod, followed by a gesture, telling her to stand up. "Yes. Mine, and everyone else's. We have to protect you, and other ones with this ability. We're your guardians."
At that, she chuckled, and stood up, gripping his forearm with both of her hands.

"Now, we have to find your shoes. Walk on your toes so you don't tear your tights. Mother wouldn't be happy, if you did." he reminded her.

She smiled at him, and followed, even though every one of his long steps was three of hers. Her guardian? How kind...


Part four: The time's out

In her dreams, they were together again, all of them. There, they were happy, none of this has ever happened... In her dreams, he was awake and alive again. For a moment, she even believed it, believed that those dreams were the truth and reality was just a nightmare.

It wasn't that way, but how could she know? Who'd be so cruel to wake her and tell her the truth? No one would.

Sometimes, though, one doesn't get the space to ask questions, and he's dragged to the awakening. Just like she was that day.

When one is as fragile as a flower, as a porcelain doll, this kind of dragging and tossing around by the hands of harsh reality could be painful, but she wasn't broken yet. She'd hold together as long as he'd hold on... How long could that be, though?

The door was banged onto the wall, and it woke her up right away. A pair of hands grabbing her shoulders and shaking her... She slowly opened her eyes, and stared at the intruder. It was still dark, most likely before sunrise. Whose face was it above her? And what did it...

Oh no.

"Haru? What's... What's wrong, Haru?" she muttered, sitting up, and wiping the sleep out of her eyes. Haru beside her looked incredibly nervous and worried... What could it be? Even the healer's usually softly groomed hair looked somehow scruffed, as if she was awake all night... What was rather unusual for someone as refined as Haru. She pulled her legs up and bent her arms around her knees.
"Is everything... Fine?" she inquired again.
"It's not. Otherwise I wouldn't be here..." Haru whispered. "You have to hurry up, Isako."

She was already by the door. Isako wonderd how could she move that fast - but only for a moment, before following her out. She had a bad feeling about this... It grew stronger as they hurried through the residence towards Seiki's room. She really hoped nothing bad happened to him, but something told her that was exactly what was going on.

Apparently, that was not wrong. The door of his room was opened, and when they entered, others were already inside. There were Takuya and Risa in the corner, silently watching, Shinobu kneeling beside bed, looking like a ghost, and the Smith on the other side of the room, in the shadow by the window. But, most important of all - at least to her - was Seiki. Fortunately still alive...

...But it didn't look like he had much time left. He was pale, and every moment he was turning and twitching. Shinobu held his hand, but even she appeared worried. Isako ran straight to the other side and threw herself onto the ground, grabbing his other hand. Her eyes were beginning to fill with tears again, but she pushed them back. Now he needed her strength, not tears!

Haru walked over to Shinobu. "Has anything changed?" she asked her silently, softly bending over, and studying Seiki. Shinobu shook her head. "Nothing... Maybe it got a little worse. He feels cold. The power of my Kido isn't enough to help much." She shook her head. "I don't know what to do... We need you. I'm a warrior, not a healer." Her voice became little more than a whisper. In the meantime, Haru has apparently come to a conclusion that was satisfying enough, judging that she finished examining Seiki's almost lifeless figure.

"It's as we thought. We don't have enough time. All along, we knew that it may eventually get worse, but we didn't know how soon that will be... It was sooner than would be good. If we had a few more weeks-"
"But we don't! Work now!" Shinobu interrupted her harshly, grabbing her by the wrist, and pulling her closer. "Do something, don't just stand here and blabber!"

Isako watched them all along, but more than the quarrel of those two she watched Seiki himself. Her hands clenched around his till her knuckled turned white, and she dove her head into the blankets again. "Don't leave me alone, big brother. Please, don't leave me..." she whispered.

It looked like Haru got to work after getting shouted at by Shinobu, knowing far too well that when the usually calm and cold oldest Adachi daughter got this hot-headed, things were serious.
She muttered something that made even less sense than ordinary spells, and a few confused glances were shot at her, but noticing how her hands, crossed on her chest, begun glowing with a faint red shine, they disappeared, while Haru said several similar, at the first sight completely nonsensical, things.

"...I reject, I refuse, I turn back." Her voice arose at the last few words, and she rose with it to her full strenght, all of a sudden pushing her hands down. The connected with Seiki's chest, and the red light, by now far stronger, passed into him. And he stopped moving.

Completely. Then, his eyes opened. His gaze was indistinct and confused, but he was most definitely awake. Even Isako noticed that. She sprang back, immediately moving towards his face. "Seiki! You're... Awake..." she whispered, unsure whether to cry, or laugh from relief. A smile appeared on her lips, but it was replaced by a look of utter horror, when he closed his eyes again. Her gaze sled up to Haru, who was once again chanting something. Drips of sweat were rolling down the sides of her jaw. She passed another orb of crimson into him, but after checking for his pulse, her face grew pale.

"I fear the worst. His heart beats slowly, and he's colder than he should be..." she whispered, looking both at Isako and Shinobu. "We may be... We may be losing it..."

Shinobu stood up, and started casting her own spell, soon joined by Haru. There was no strength in Isako left to perform even the simplest form of Kido. She was frozen, frozen in horror...

Tears streamed down her cheeks like rivers, streams of hot water on marble. She picked up his hand softly, and shook her head. "Please, don't do this to me, Seiki. I won't let you die..." she whispered.
For a moment, she thought he was a little bit warmer, a little bit more alive, but it was a short sensation, and it was soon gone, too. She shook him, paying no attention to Shinobu and Haru, searching for any sign of life.

"I won't let you die on me, Seiki! I can't, I couldn't... My heart would break and I'd die of sadness! Please, keep strong for me!" she called out to him, even though he couldn't hear her. He couldn't do this to her... She still needed him!

Who would stand by and protect her? Who'd be there to fight for her when she's helpless? Isn't that why big brothers are born first - to protect the ones that come after? If she was ever all alone, he was always there, always with her. He always protected her, like a guardian, her hero... It wasn't possible for him to leave her now.

It wasn't fair... Why now? When she needed him most?

"Don't leave me alone! I won't have you die here, Seiki..." she repeated, shaking his hand frantically.

Interlude: The will to protect and to sacrifice

They were all around him. One's head was on his knees, while another held his arm, and one was leaning onto him with her back. And he, amid them, hardly even moved not to wake them up. What a desperate situation... In a dark room, where a single narrow window let the rays of light enter, and touch the bare walls. That was where they spent the last... Two weeks?

And it was his fault... That fool. First that noble was a liar, then a thief, and now a captor. As if he didn't even have enough honor to fight it out like a man. But why did he have to take the three girls, too? It didn't make sense... It was him who he wanted. He could just as well take him, and leave Shinobu, Isako and Kanami there. They had nothing to do with this... There wasn't a reason to hold them captive, too. Unless he'd want something really, really...

No. Impossible. No man would stoop that low.

It was night already, another sleepless night without a purpose. They were asleep already, but he couldn't find rest... His hands softly moved the girls away from his body, and he stood up, stepping towards the window. It wasn't even wide enough for his whole head to be pushed through, but it was far taller even than him. He supposed they were in a tower... It didn't make sense otherwise, but they were all blindfolded when they led them inside, so he couldn't be sure. The crescent moon outside shone brightly, the only light greater than the distant stars. They appeared so small... Just like he felt.

So small. There was no way out... And he refused to accept the conditions he has been given. To give up his title and die at the hands of some dirty rat as if he didn't have any grace or honor? He'd rather take his own life, rather than that...

A gust of wind blew into the window, and swept his long hair out of his face. His eyes glinted as coldly as steel, reflecting the stars and the moon like perfect mirrors. The air was cool... For a moment, it lifted the sleeves of his black robe, and blew them back, but it was a very short moment. Everything fell back, and he became little more than a shadow in the night again.

The sky was becoming lighter at the horizon... Almost dawn. How many more sunrises would they have to survive here, closed between four walls and four corners, before something radical would happen?

He never felt so lost before. It was his fault... It was pointless to blame someone else. It was him who was too weak to protect his sisters. It was him that got into a quarrel with a man without any morals. It was him all along! And so he had to bear this burden and find a way out alone. He didn't rely on anyone's help... He didn't even consider that. Even though father would be worried, and would most likely investigate... No, this was his personal battle.

A battle of honor and sacrifice, and the will to protect.

Maybe he stood there for a few minutes, and maybe it was a few hours, but all of a sudden, the door on the ground opened. A hooded head appeared, followed by an entire body, and four others behind. He knew them, but he didn't turn away from the window. They came to offer him the same conditions as before... And he wouldn't accept.

"Have you changed your mind, Seiki Adachi?"
It was more of a hiss than an exclamation. He ignored the voice completely.

The hooded man crossed his arms on his chest. The hood sled off. "I'm waiting for your answer. And I'm not meaning to waste my time on you."

"Then, you can leave. You shall get no answer. My mind doesn't change with every rise and setting of the sun." Seiki's voice was cold, bearing his usual calmness, but it was even more emotionless than usually. He still didn't turn away from the window. He wouldn't do so any soon, either.

The man scratched the black curls on his head. "As you wish." he growled, and with a small gesture gave the men by his sides some order. They walked over to all three Adachi daughters, avoiding Seiki himself, and tied their hands up. He, surprisingly, supressed the urge to turn around, even when the last man came to him, and bound his own wrists together. He didn't say a word, and his gaze proudly avoided the eyes of all others except for his sisters. He saw Kanami's distressed look coming from underneath the arm of one of the men while they were led down the stairs, but her head was harshly turned back right after. This time, nobody bothered with blindfolding them.

It was really a tower, and the staircase was long, maybe longer than long. After several  more corridors, they were led to something that resembled an underground hall. There was little furniture except for a simple throne, set atop a stage, divided from the rest of the room by a semicircular staircase. The most surprising of all was the river, flowing through... Its stream was guided into complicated patterns, lining the walls. Seiki noticed that the weapons - their weapons - that were taken from them before were here, divided into groups by their owner, and laid down before the throne.

The girls were forced to kneel beside each other, their hands still behind their backs, while he was left standing a few feet before them, straight opposite the throne, now occupied by the noble. His eyes narrowed with disdain as he glanced upon his figure, a shapeless sack of fat on a chair of wood. How disgusting... No wonder he refused to fight. He wouldn't last a minute.

"Do you think that by refusing my offer you can avoid misery for months, maybe years? Until your father - no less of a fool than yourself - finds you here?" he started his speech, staring Seiki straight into the eyes, but he received no reply.
"If you do," the man continued, "then, you are mistaken."

"My decisions are my own." he spoke at last. "And your conditions are offensive at least."
"Keep your stupid pride, Adachi. It will do you no good in a coffin." the noble growled back, frowning at the young warrior. "For dead you shall be... Soon."
"It won't be your hand that takes my life. And it won't be your hall that will see my blood." Seiki remained ice-cold.
"We will see that..."

One of the men grabbed him by the sleeve of his robe, and tried to drag him forth, but instead received a kick into the back of his knee - from no one else than Shinobu. "How dare you touch my brother's garb!" she hissed, nearly spitting out the words. The man, keeping guard over her, punched her between the shoulders with the hilt of his blade, and Shinobu collapsed onto the ground. Seiki frowned.

"Leave my sisters alone. It's me who you want. Fight me like a man, and then let us decide which one is to die." he spoke. The man on the throne broke into an almost hysterical laughter, which echoed through the hall and shook his corpulent body.
"Fight you? You have good humour. It's a pity it won't help you, either. Why would I fight you when I have you so comfortably at my hand?" he questioned him.
He received nothing that could be considered an answer, just a glance, full of disgust, in Seiki's eyes.
"It would be a waste of time and effort... Besides, it would be too much of an honorable death for you." the noble frowned.
"You don't even deserve to taste the edge of my blade, and cover it in the filth of yours. A man that would stoop so low is a disgrace for mankind itself." 

That was the last drop. The throne almost shook as the man breathed out with fury. He gestured towards Kanami's guard, who gave him a nod, and pulled the girl up by the shoulder. Another man handed the noble one of the blades from Seiki's own pile. The eyes of its owner widened with rage, but otherwise, Seiki didn't react. He knew that if he even made a step forth, Isako, Kanami, or Shinobu could be killed.

The guard made the girl sit on the armrest of the throne. She broke into tears, but didn't dare to move. "Seiki..." she sobbed, "I'm afraid of him, Seiki! Do something..."
Hard steel glinted in the noble's hand as he unsheathed Seiki's Wakizashi blade.
"Aren't you going to hear her out, and do something?" the noble provoked him further, drawing the sword closer to her white throat, arched like that of a swan under his other hand, which pushed her chin up.
"Tell me, Seiki Adachi..." his eyes flashed with a dark pleasure, "Do you love your sisters?"
The sword's edge was on her skin.
"I can see in your eyes that you do... What would you do for them? Would you die for them?" he asked.
Seiki's eyes opened wide. What was he planning to do? Didn't he have any morals at all? He couldn't... He was the one he wanted, not Kanami! He must be bluffing...
"I'll give you ten seconds to decide. Bring him the long blade." the man instructed the guards.

They picked up Blood-red Blossom, and handed the long, wide Zanpakuto to its owner. When it was passed into his hands, the countdown begun.
"Ten."
His hands clenched around the hilt and sheath.
"Nine."
A tear rolled down Kanami's face, and she shook her head, gripping the blunt edges of the blade with her small hands.
"Eight."
Shinobu turned on the ground and coughed, looking up at Seiki. Her eyes seemed so desperate.
"Seven."
The river's flow kept running, the only thing that wasn't frozen.
"Six."
Half of the blade of the soul-cutter was revealed, while the other half was still hidden in the black sheath.
"Five."
The black robe made a soft sound of moving fabric as Seiki made a step forth.
"Four."
Isako yanked the thread, binding her hands, and threw her head forth in a desperate attempt to get free.
"Three."
The Wakizashi in the noble's blade was pressed tighter onto Kanami's neck.
"Two."
Two drops of crimson streamed out, and the girl let out a silent sob.
"One."
The time was up.

"I'm almost sorry. She could have been a pretty one when she'd grow up... But her big brother made the wrong decision." The noble's voice was calm, not showing any emotions, though it was a different calmness than Seiki's. One of a man, confident in crime he was about to commit.

And the blade dove into her soft skin, as white and perfect as the best silk, staining it with endless crimson blood. She didn't even have the time to scream... The entire dark blade was drowned in her blood, flowing down onto her robe like a red river. So full and dark... The flame of life in her eyes burned out, and her body sled onto the armrest like a lifeless puppet. The chain was broken.
All three of them saw the moment its irons shattered, the moment her soul was divided from her body. It arose above the broken mortal shell, a perfect copy of her, and became naught in a few moments. She passed on... And she was no longer there. What they saw, coated in red, was no more than bone and flesh of a destroyed vessel.

He'd like to say that he didn't see it. He'd like to say that he closed his eyes and saw none of it. He'd like to say his conscience went black, and he doesn't remember it. But he couldn't, because that didn't happen.

The blade of Blood-red Blossom screeched as its owner unsheathed it completely. He tried so hard to keep his hands steady... This was his fault! She never had to die! He could have sacrificed himself instead, he should have done it! It would be the best decision... He wouldn't ever let anyone die for him! Nobody had the right to... Nobody was obliged to lay his life for him, it was his duty to protect, and when he was at the end with his strength, he never pleaded anyone to protect him! It should have never been that way.

"You filthy beast..." he whispered, staring at the blade in his hands. It was somehow right that this sword was to take his life... It seemed right to him.
"I take your conditions, if you swear not to hurt Isako and Shinobu. Not a sole hair on their heads will be touched... I will not let them get hurt because of your madness. Take me instead."

He drew a sharp breath in, holding his head up high. The noble revealed a dark, twisted smirk. "So even the steel-hard, invincible Seiki Adachi has a weakness..." he mused, and laughed shortly.
"I will not let the honor of my family and my name to be stained like this!" Seiki replied, almost harshly, but still at least somehow remaining cold, even though his inside was ripped to pieces and screaming out loud in horror, rage, and pain.

He stepped forth.
"Seiki, no! Don't do it!" Isako behind him screamed. Her shout drowned out the sound of his footsteps. Something behind the door crashed.

It was his decision... The only way to keep them alive, and keep the honor of his family intact. He wouldn't regret it... Oh, death will welcome him with mercy.

The cold metal underneath his hands arose as he lifted his arms above his head. He'll die looking up with pride.

And then it sank down, towards his body. Its sharp tip tore the black robe he wore, touched his skin and pierced its whiteness, still sinking deeper and deeper with every moment. It disappeared among his flesh, the hilt remaining above his chest. The tip of the soul-cutter left his body through his back, spilling drops of his crimson blood upon the ground.

It was cold... He was in pain, greater than any he's felt before, but death wasn't coming... It must have been a wrong strike. How was it possible that even though he could feel his very own blade within his body, he was still alive? Something... His mind couldn't grasp what was happening, but it wasn't what should have happened.

Even despite the agony he was in, he pulled the blade back up with his shaking hands, out of his abdomen, and returned it to its original position. More blood was flowing down both of his sides, though he was too paralyzed to feel it. His hands couldn't hold the sword up long enough... It fell back down, skewing into his body above his hips again, but even now, he couldn't deliver the killing blow. He sunk to his knees, still holding the hilt.

The world was hidden behind a veil of darkness, there was nothing left but indistinct shadows of the forms of objects. Another sharp spike of pain, this time from the right side, was added to the already overwhelming agony. He could feel his knees touching the ground, and his head fell forth, staring at his bloodied hands around the handle of Blood-red Blossom. It was his own blood which was so, so red on that white skin... Staining his robes and flowing down onto the ground... And he suddenly felt so cold.

The shouts of his sisters and the laughter of the noble were nothing more than distant sounds his mind couldn't record anymore. It was the end... His end...

The end. This was how the end was... Cold and dark. Slow. But he felt regret for nothing but not being fast enough to protect the others.

His blood was leaving his body, dragging the shattered remains of his conscience with it. Through the marble on the ground, it kept flowing as a thin stream, connected with the river and colored it red.

The door was cracked open, broken into a thousand shards. An entire large company of warriors, garbed in black, stormed in. A dozen swords was aimed at every one in the hall. More crimson was spilled as their blades skewed into the noble and his guards, and the whole ground was coated in it. There was no mercy, no compassion in this storm of blades. Nobody was sparred...

A pair of hands grabbed Seiki by the shoulders. Someone's face appeared by his side, shaking him, and the sword was removed from his wound. His body collapsed lifelessly into the man's hands, quickly tying something over him to stop the bleeding. There was chaos all around...

No, this wasn't the end. Not yet. His heart was still beating, this was not the end.


Part five: Fading

Maybe it was an hour. Maybe it was but a few minutes. She lost track of time, she lost track of everything that was happening, all she wanted to was to hold him and feel that he's alive. She'd never surrender him, and she'd never desert this hope that, like a ship in a raging storm finds the safety of the port, they'd find a way to heal him. Even in a body so frail resided a strong spirit, which burned with the strength of a great fire.

But what her eyes saw broke this hope. Every moment hit it stronger and stronger and it was shattering, and she knew not how much time was left for her till it crashes and crumbles into pieces. Oh, she didn't know a thing... However, even that wouldn't change her hope and her wishes, which remained unshaken.

Her fingers stroke the blankets, pushing them closer towards his body as she laid her head down by his side. Her glimmering eyes watched him, calmed that he was still breathing, but they were filled with tears. Drop after drop was flowing down her white cheeks.

All of a sudden, and more surprisingly than was probably possible, a pair of hands grabbed her shoulders and roughly pulled her up and away. She recognized Shinobu's touch, but she refused to move, holding onto the frame of the bed with her nails and teeth. Her  older sister kept yanking her, till Isako turned around, and grabbed one of her hands, forcefully pushing it away. "Leave me alone, Shinobu! What's wrong with you?" she burst out in confusion.
"Let Haru work... Move on and go out of here, Isako!" she hissed back, still dragging her away.

Isako shot a glance at Haru. The healer appeared so tired, bending above Seiki in concern, with one hand by his neck... Out of strength?

Shinobu used the moment of her hesitation to grab her and pull her a few inches towards the door. "You're too young to see everything here! Get out!" she kept repeating, but Isako was stubborn. She shook her head, and her gaze remained at Haru.
"What's wrong, Haru?" she shouted out, still resisting Shinobu's attempts to drag her out.
The tall girl looked up from Seiki's body. "I'm afraid it might have gotten to the worst... I'm losing him..." she whispered.

In that moment, Isako broke into tears. Rivers ran down her face, and even Shinobu didn't have the heart to keep on pulling her. Her hands dropped the sleeves on her robe, and she fell to her knees, blankly staring into the distance. No, this wasn't possible.

"Don't leave me, Seiki! Please! I won't have you die here!" Isako screamed, crawling back towards towards him and grabbing his hand. Frantically shaking him, she repeated it over and over again, not willing to give up the last beacon of hope she had. He couldn't leave her! That wasn't... Possible... No.

It couldn't be.

But when even Haru let go, and slowly sank down, kneeling, she knew that it was over. Yes, it was the end... There was no way to save him, no way to bring him back, to make him live. All along it was a false hope. It was the end, now and here.

She shook her head, and gripped him stronger, screaming. She didn't even know what words left her mouth, the most important part being just that they resonated in the empty space and filled the air with their loudness. She pleaded him not to leave her alone, she asked him who will protect her if he'd be gone, she promised and she cried anything that came to her mind out loud through the tears. Without him, what would she be but a spark of fire in the wind, without a hard wood to catch onto? What else than a wanderer without a road? A key without a gate to open? She'd be nothing... She was never of any use without a guardian like him! Always so lost, but he was always there to show her the path! She needed him...

A hand appeared on her shoulder again, but this time, it was soft and white, not worn by combat like Shinobu's. Haru's hand. For a moment, she stopped in her crying, and turned her head, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.
"Isako..."

Her voice was soothing, softer than silk, and calm. Even her eyes seemed just like that... They weren't filled with tears, they were burning bright instead of being clouded. "Isako, stay calm." she reminded her kindly. "Seiki will be alright. He won't die... I'll make sure of that, Isa."  Her hand lifted towards the young girl's face, and wiped the tears off her skin. Their drops rolled down her graceful fingers and dripped onto her dress, soaking into the fabric and creating small dark circles on it.

She stared at her, in both awe and surprise. Her jaw dropped, and her own hands arose to grab Haru's, softly picking them up. For a moment, they just looked at each other without saying a word. And then, Isako threw herself into her embrace, breaking into tears again, but this time, it was tears of happiness, and her face was brightened up by a wide smile. "Thank you, Haru, thank you..." she mumbled. Her arms entwinned around the healer's thin waist, and held her firmly, while her face dove into her dark hair. "I don't know how to thank you as much as I feel it..."
"You don't have to thank me, Isa." Haru whispered back, and returned her embrace. "It's enough to know that he'll be around that much longer to make you smile."

It wasn't the end yet. She couldn't describe how happy she was! This feeling, this newly lit hope was burning inside her chest and keeping her warm, creating a smile on her lips. Her guardian... She knew he'd never leave her. He'd tell her to hold her head up high and show her the way out of the dark every time she'd be led astray, he'll do that again every time she'd be helpless! The gate to her key which would lead her forth.

When she was little, he promised to protect her. She never doubted it, not once. He said he'll be there, and she knew he would, even when he was far. She knew he would never leave her alone.

"Thank you for being with me, Seiki." she whispered.
"When you'll need me, I'll be there, too."

Part six: I bring you flowers

A trail of petals marked her way, from the gardens through the long and complicated patterns of the corridors, towards an ordinary looking door. They were white and rose, small, but in a number so great that when someone opened a door and let the wind in, they arose in its gust and whirled through the hallway like a storm of flowers. It was spring, beautiful in its blossom.

Anadwen

(continued from last post)

Spring and blossoms have always been a sign of new beginnings, weren't they?

The sign of rebirth and awakening. Everything was fresh and new, blooming and waking to life.

She brought him flowers. Sakura blossoms have always been his favorite... A few more petals broke off, and spiraling onto the ground, they fell off the branch. Her hands softly laid them onto the table beside the bed, close enough for him to see them and feel their scent. A soft smile appeared on her lips as she did so, and she stroke the flowers with the back of her hand, as if to straighten them. Then, she bent over, and softly shook him to wake him up.

"Seiki, wake up. Look what I brought you! Aren't they beautiful? They always remind me of you... I almost brought more than I could carry." she whispered, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

His eyes opened. They were blue and dark, like twilight sky, or the depths of a crystal-clear lake. They were summer midnight, glimmering with fire. For a moment, his glance wandered around the room, till he found her face, and something else than the usual coldness was alit in those perfect mirrors. "Thank you, Isako." he replied silently. "They are beautiful."

Flower after flower, she picked them from the branches, and laid them down into his hair and around his head, like a halo of blossoms. The smile on her face widened as she looked at him now. Even he smiled... Just a little, but it was a rare sight none the less. She chuckled at it, and grabbed his hand, laying it down onto her thighs. "I knew you'd like them! I was picking them up since sunrise to make you happy. Do you remember when I was little, how I climbed one of the trees, and when you got me down, I had them everywhere? That happened today again! When I had the branches, I had to shake them out of my hair."

The sound of her laughter filled the room. She was shining with her happiness.

Interlude: Memory

Six years have passed. Six long years... So much and so little has changed. It was like no time has passed. The gardens were blooming again. The sun still shone with the same soft light, the breeze still blew the petals around. There were just a few more scars of cruelty on the face of the world.

He awoke with sunrise again, staring the bright circle of crimson light in the face. It was a bright morning, too. His movement was flowing like mercury when he stood up and changed into his black robes up to his waist, slowly walked over to the window, and looked out. The curtains were drawn back under his hands. It was fortunate to have a room in the highest part of the house, because it gave one a beautiful view at the gardens that surrounded it. Now, the blossoms were half dipped in deep shadows of the passing night, which still held onto the tree-trunks and low branches, not eager to ease the grip of its black fingers and disappear. The other half was drenched in rose-colored mist, illuminated by the rising sun, like if they were drowned in a red river, and then brought back above the surface, dripping with crimson.

It was a breathtaking scenery. For a moment, he wondered how the hands of nature can create something so unearthly perfect... Till he remembered what day it was.

He turned away from the window, and grabbed his silken scarf, hanging it over his shoulders and around his neck as he walked out. From his room, a narrow path led down the rock amid the gardens, sometimes carved into the stone, and sometimes completed by wooden steps. He took them by two, quickly climbing down the road. His breath created clouds of mists in the cold morning air, and he left each one of them behind in his swift walk.

Three more steps, and he was on the ground below the residence, stepping into the fallen petals underneath the trees. The path, however, continued through the gardens. He walked on, not looking back, and seemed to even brisken up when he was down from the rock.

The path was twisting underneath the trees, taking turns and avoiding stones in the ground. His steps were silent as he followed it up, towards another hill. There, it widened, and led through denser terrain than before, before it reached a flatter place, somewhere amid the woods. A lot of flat stones adorned the top of the hill. Graves.

He slowed down, and walked towards a small one by the side. His hands swept the flowers and leaves off, cleaned its surface, while he kneeled on the ground before it. A crack of a branch sounded behind him, but he didn't turn back in surprise.

"Come out, Shinobu." he called out calmly. His sister's figure indeed stepped out from behind the trees, and walked over to him. Her black robe billowed in the breeze.
"How long have you known I was following you?" she questioned him silently.
"Since you walked down from the house behind me."
She sighed. "You have keen ears."
"Your spiritual power gave you away. I could sense you." he explained her. His voice was cold and collected.
"I was curious." She was also calm.
Silence.
"It's the fifth year you disappear in the morning and walk somewhere."
Still silence.

She eventually kneeled down beside him, and connected her hands to pray just like he did. They were like two statues, guardians in the mist, towering above a small grave. None of them spoke, honoring the memory of this day. So similar to each other - both calm and quiet.

They were what was left.

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