So… I’m dressed like a bride.
Meant for the son of the cruel woman. Who was the one, then, that kidnapped me? It seems now that the imposter and Asato-san were… mercinaries? But ones only too happy to do so. Asato-san has old grudges against me. And Kichisaburo…
I thought he was dead, too. But he seems to have a number of people convinced that he is Souji. Asato-san, who should know better… she was with him when he died but is fooled by this man?
But love… it’s a funny thing.
I’m laying, with my ankle elevated and iced, my hand iced, ice on my cheeks. I wonder… if I’m still, perfectly still, if I’ll just freeze. Become a statue, or maybe melt, the water that was once me dripping down through the futon, through the tatami and the floor, to the ground below. Running down to the river, to the sea… lost forever.
Asato-san gave me something, a powder. It’s not knocking me out, like the needle did. It dulls the pain I feel, a bit.
What comes next? I don’t know enough to even try to speculate. All of my planning, my avoidance, my failures… has left me here. A frozen bride.
We can save you… just give up…. come the voices from elsewhere. My sister, my shadow. All who want a piece of the life that I barely have anymore. They made it plain what a failure they consider me to be, even before this. But they still want what they think they have claim to. An old grudge, a new grudge. I took lives they wanted….
Hajime… I thought we’d have more time.
So time is stolen, I cannot hold you long enough
Again I go back to that summer afternoon… the first kiss we shared, to see if the other was -real-… after so long. So long I waited. My hopes came true that day. But the structure, the unending beat of the “story”… it caged us. I let us be caged. I let him be caged.
I thought I’d get to tell him once more that I love him. To see his smile, those golden eyes, hear that voice, breathe in his scent, one more time. To laugh at the joy the children bring us. To find home on that lap… with that man with whom I found a home. Not a structure… but a place to -live-.
I close my eyes. Worlds and places tug at me. But he’s not there, not anymore. Maybe he was already claimed. Already “wiped”, cleaned, ready for another adventure, the memories gone forever. His eyes were red, that afternoon in his office. He was ready to give up on us. He saw what the witness saw, finally.
“Last chace, Hide-chan, to give me what I want.” I hear the voice of the imposter. The one who may not be the ultimate puppetmaster but the one who stole me, who broke my body. The one who wears a stolen haori, once worn by a very good man.
“I… can’t give you what I can’t give,” I say, weakly.
He stands up. “The hens are coming back to finish trying to make you look presentable… ha,” he says, shaking his head. “And Hide-chan… I always get what I want.”
(OOC – close)