From: "Miss Hideki" ###################### Raindrops of Rage Part 2 ####################### Misao didn’t know how long she had been walking...running. Any concept of time was lost. All she knew was that she had to get away. There was nothing left for her back there. Nothing but rejection and soul breaking pain. How much more of that could she take? She was only human. She wasn’t cold and cynical and empty. No, that was Aoshi. Her tears mingled with the rain, running down her pale cheeks. She hastily wiped them away as she ran. Ran from the only life she had ever known, ever wanted. But not any longer. She was through. It was time for a new beginning. Time for all her foolish hopes and naïve dreams to die. It was time for her to finally grow up. “I don’t need you anymore Aoshi-sama,” she muttered, pushing her way through the drenched foliage. “I don’t need anyone. I can take care of myself. I don’t need anyone.” Those words became her chant as she made her way through the saturated forest. They echoed in her mind, filling completely her torn emotions. She could feel nothing else. Not the cold rain that drenched her and not the howling wind. And especially no regret for leaving or any type of emotion towards her once beloved Aoshi-sama. There was nothing but the constant litany as a reminder of her independence. “I don’t need anyone.” It grew stronger, with every fleeting step she took. Her freedom expanded as the burden she had carried for so long slowly slid off of her shoulders. The burden of loving Aoshi. The burden of unrequited love. It had taken a long time, but it would happen. She would do it. No, she *had* to do it. For herself at least. How long could she ignore her needs, her feelings, herself? It was slowly ripping her apart. She couldn’t take the weight of loving him anymore. It was utterly hopeless. He would never see her a woman, never see her as an equal. She would always be a child, an obligation to him. And that was something that she could no longer stand. She didn’t need him to baby her, to pity her. She had her pride too. She would make it on her own. She would train and become stronger. She would show him. She would show them all. Makimichi Misao was no longer a child. The wind screamed like a rippling flame, as if to mark her resolve. ******** It was raining heavily. So much like that bloody night, twelve years ago. When rain spilled violently from the sky, embracing everything like liquid death. He watched the rain fall from the skies, painting the inky night with wetness. He hated it. Hated the memories that were associated with the rain. Hated the fact that even after two years, he was still being ripped open. So many memories. He saw those nameless faces he had dipped into death on every face he met. And shady nightmares ate at his mind, scraping away the frail remnants of his sanity. The peace that Himura-san had spoken of was dead. So unattainable that it may not have even existed for one such as he. Without remorse, that was how the world had gazed upon him. For it had been true. Had been. How his soul shrieked and twisted under the pressure of his past. Under things that he could never change. Things that were so hard to change. He was trying but would it be enough? He had already broken once. Slipping into insanity, it was so effortless. He could do nothing. The shadows were simply enough to sweep him into broken nothings. “No,” he whispered, clutching his head. It was throbbing with dark thoughts and harsh agonies. And through the muddled despair came ShiShiO’s voice. “Only the strong survive. The weak perish. The strong survive Soujiro, you must remain strong.” He sank to his knees, his eyes tightly shut. Not again. ShiShiO’s raspy voice grew louder, proclaiming what he for so long had held to be true. No. Stop it. Stealing his sanity. Even in death. Please not this time. With jagged words once more. It became all he could hear, slicing through all his other thoughts. And he could see blood. Thick blood falling and rotting flesh and ShiShiO smiling beneath his bandages and fire burning and thousands of people screaming and so much darkness. It was everywhere, obliterating all else. Darkness painted with blood. Blood like rain. In the night of his past. Icy fingers covered with blood beckoning him closer, into the shadows. The strong survive, that voice told him. Again and again. Blood splashing, blood shimmering, bloody dying. Viscous like the night. Intertwining around him. Coiling and pulling him tighter. Raining upon his despair. He couldn’t breathe. The strong survive, chanted that blood sucking on his frantic form. His reflection shone in those vivid pools of red. He was smiling. Soujiro screamed. ******** Misao gasped as she tripped over an unseen tree root and smashed to the ground. Dirt steeped into her mouth. “Blegh,” she choked, spitting it out. She cursed floridly. And again that cry cut though the rainy night, longer and louder this time. She blanched as she jumped to her feet. It was filled with so much anguish, like a dying soul. She began to sprint towards the shrieking, all her problems vanishing. She had to aide whoever was in trouble. It was her duty as the Okashira of the Oniwa Banshuu. It took her about fifteen minutes to sprint through the forest until she abruptly came to a clearing. The piercing shrills were coming from a wooden barn type structure that stood on the edge of the woods. Stealthily she advanced, wincing at the poignant suffering spilling from those shrill cries. She quickly made her way to the window on the barn’s far side and peeked in. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she could make out a figure kneeling on the floor. It appeared to be a male for his hair was short but she couldn’t be sure. He was the one screaming, his head clutched in his hands. Her eyes widened as he began to repeatedly strike his head against the ground, his yells intensifying. Misao didn’t think. All she knew was that she had to stop the figure from hurting himself. She was inside the barn in five seconds. “Yamete yo!!!” she shrieked, her voice drowned out in the wake of his own insane screams. She dropped to her knees beside him and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him away from the ground. “Stop it!!! You’re hurting yourself!!! You-” He jerked away from her and smashed his fist into her cheek. “I won’t go with you! You can’t take me away! I won’t let you!!!” Misao stumbled backwards from the sheer force of the blow, the night exploding into stars and lights and sparklers of white hot pain. She blinked several times trying to clear her head. He had hit her so quickly that she hadn’t even a chance to block it. Her fingers shook as she gingerly touched her jaw. It was raw and ached like hell. The boy let out a gasp, the small sound seeming so obtrusive in the now silent barn. Outside the rain had stopped. “Gomenasai,” he cried, his voice high and trembling. His eyes were translucent in the black shadows. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t realize that…that,” his voice cracked. “I’m fine,” she told him in as cheerful a tone she could manage. “You didn’t hit me too hard. What about you? Are you okay?” He bowed his head and said nothing. His suffering tore at her heart. The image of him, wrapped in shadows burned into her mind. She didn’t understand it but at that moment a feeling of great protectiveness rose up inside of her. For the time being, his ribbons of lunacy had been caste away. She wanted to help him make sure that they would remain so. She crawled to his side and gently placed her hand on his shoulder, refusing to analyze why she felt such a sharp desire to protect and comfort him. “You...you must be hurt,” she broached hesitantly. “I’m won’t hurt you. I can help you, if you want me to.” He turned and looked at her. “Who are you?” Misao never got a chance to answer the question. In the darkness, all she could see was blood streaming from his forehead down his cheek. “You’re bleeding!” she cried and without thinking, she quickly tore off a piece of her pink sash. Her fingers seemed to move on their own as she brushed his hair away from the cut and with her other hand she fastidiously pressed the cloth to the wound. “Does it pain you?” she questioned gently. His hair was soft under her fingers. He uttered a tiny, weak laugh as though he was embarrassed. “I’ve been hurt before. I’m okay. The rain….the rain makes me go a little bit crazy sometimes. I’m sorry that you were here. That you had to see...I hurt you. I’m so sorry. I---“ “No,” she interrupted. “Please don’t say that. You didn’t hurt me at all. I’m glad that I got here when I did. You could have hurt yourself horribly.” “I deserve far worse.” The bleak acceptance behind his words flamed into her mind. It was something that she understood only too well. That sense of frigid despair, when everything that had always been true crumbled into icy shards. He was without hope and she knew how it felt. Her mind cried out to his, connecting. What kind of life he had fled from, what kind of memory was haunting him now? Her resolve was absolute. She would help him rid his shadows. “Life would be dreadful if we only got what we thought we deserved,” she told him quietly. She pulled her sash away from his head and examined the wound. It had stopped bleeding. He opened his mouth to speak, to contradict her but she stopped him thoughtlessly by pressing her fingers to his mouth. His eyes widened at the gesture. Misao wretched back, startled by what she had done. What was this reaction to him? Her heart pounded rapidly. “You’re not bleeding anymore,” she announced hurriedly, her breathing ragged. “And you should probably get some sleep now. It’s late and you must be tired.” He said nothing in response. Misao almost preferred the craze shrills to the uncomfortable silence that dragged on afterwards as they lay in prickly hay side by side. It was unnaturally quiet, like the stillness after death. She could still feel the cold softness of his lips against her fingertips and that unnerved her. Was it because of Aoshi, that she was mindlessly reaching out to this boy? That perhaps some part of herself was seeking for another person? To prove herself? She dismissed those thoughts as absurd. Aoshi meant nothing to her. She could care less about trying to prove herself to him. What did he care? Did she? Hardly. This boy was suffering and she was only trying to help him. That was all. She didn’t like people in pain. Only Aoshi did. That cold heartless bastard. The glassy tears that slid down her cheeks came as a surprise. Despite everything. Black night hours, pregnant with misery crawled slowly into pink dipped dawn. Sunshine splashed into the barn and Misao opened her eyes. “It’s so bright,” she mumbled, rubbing sleep from her eyes and burrowed her head into her pillow. Unfortunately, there was no pillow. Only piles of hay. Prickly strands that made their way into her nose. She bolted upright and promptly sneezed five times. “Hay,” she gasped, her eyes watering. And like the sudden shattering of glass, all that had happened to her last night fled back into her memory. Leaving Aoshi, her hatred, the boy... He continued to sleep in spite of her clamorous sneezing. He looked so young and serene sleeping, his inky hair resting on his pale cheeks. The wound was caked with dry blood. Her fingers trembled violently. She was looking down into the face of Tenken no Soujirou. She sneezed. --------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ---------------------------- Win a Digital Camera and Earn 6 Percent APY Interest! SFNB is reinventing Internet Banking with a 6 percent APY Interest Checking acct. For acct details and to sign up to win a digital camera: Click Here ------------------------------------------------------------------------