Kyōshi-hime
Jōnin - 上忍
Lady Of Tsukigakure no Sato
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone...
Posts: 26
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Reunion
Nov 23, 2008 0:18:53 GMT -5
Post by Kyōshi-hime on Nov 23, 2008 0:18:53 GMT -5
Akihiko looked at the locket for a moment, then tried to put it back around Kyoshi's neck, but the link was broken from when it was yanked from her delicate decolleté. "Mommy. It's broked." The little boy said, starting to feel the sadness of his father disappearing. His little hands went up to his eyes and rubbed them, sniffles accompanying tiny sobs. Kyoshi took the locket, then pulled Akihiko's face to her shoulder. "Hey, no. No tears. Daddy's just going to go get all cleaned up for dinner! Then he's coming back," she said, hoping her own words were true.
The tiny boy sat up and looked at his mother. "Promise? Promise my daddy is coming back?" Kyoshi's heart began to break at her baby's words. "I promise. Cross my heart and hope to cry." She wiped his eyes and kissed him, then put him back down on the floor.
Just then, the two ANBU re-entered the room. "You, escort Akihiko-sama to his room and have the maids prepare him for tonight. And you, you get someone on fixing this door immediately. I want it done before the feast we are having in the Tsuchikage's honor tonight." The second one hesitated a moment, then spoke. "Kyoshi-hime...a feast? We will not have time to prepare the manor." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Make it happen. I want my elite there as well as my Tsukinowa and the Shokujin. Prepare a summons for me to sign." The two bowed, then went their separate ways. Kyoshi was then alone in her giant foyer.
It was quiet.
She walked over to the stairs, and traced her slender fingers along the smooth, black banister before breaking down to silent, violent sobs, and collapsing into a well placed mess on the bottom stair. The niagra of tears flowed generously, unlike before when they stubbornly refused to show themselves. Maybe she didn't believe he was real, or that this was real. But the heaviness in her chest and in the pit of her stomach was real. The love she had for him was definitely real. It was real, and painful, and wonderful all in the same breath, whether she wanted to believe or feel it or not.
She gripped the post of the banister, feeling the weight of the breathless sobs beat down upon her. Her eyes squeezed close, and her dainty mouth parted, letting out an agonizing wail, that turned into a frustrated bellow. Her tears had soaked the lap of her kimono, her head throbbed, and her face hurt. But after a few minutes of tearful release, she just stopped.
The woman's face returned to stone as she wiped her now puffy eyelids and took a deep breath. Tears would solve nothing. It was time to move forward. Slowly, she pulled herself to her feet and began to ascend the spiraled stairs to her room.
It was time to prepare the feast.
[End]
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