music: here to stay // shiro sagisu (bleach soundtrack #2)
mood: inspired
prompts: honor, broken string;
She could feel their gazes upon her, the heat and chill of them intermingling with the many buzzing sounds of speculation that seemed to slither from one end of the hall to the other. Her fingers, cold as her palms were, struggled to maintain their casualness on the wooden banister, even as the fear of falling demanded that they clutch tightly as though her life depended upon it.
She had never realized just how numerous the steps were and she resolved it within herself to never take such things for granted ever again.
It was strange, being blind. She had imagined it to be eternal darkness like the deadest of nights without any sign or sight of a moon. Instead, it seemed to be both the lack and presence of all colors; and most curiously, she found that she could still identify darkness from light. It was seeing and not seeing at the same time, for shapes and form had abandoned her to a landscape as barren as a desert that extended over and above to where a sky should have been.
"What on earth was she thinking?" Someone voice hissed to a silent companion, and Kotori tightened her hold on the neck of her koto as if to relieve the tension that had been slowly building in her breast. Honor. She told herself, repeating the word over and over as gravity danced at her feet, suspending the next step as though she would tread next onto nothing. I was thinking of honor. Her jaw tightened just a little and her heartbeat spiked as surely as a broken string snaps. She had never been given to temper, as bouts of such would be beneath a Kakita, but now the feeling seemed to stalk and claw within her, like an unsettled falcon freed from it's hood, desperate for the great blue sky. I have done something that none of you would ever understand, for you all would see my family in ruin and my mother shunned fr--
Her footing failed. In her mind it seemed the ground yawned to claim her. She had no time to think and yet at the same time all the world to think. She would fall, she thought numbly, and she would rise. The speculations later would do as they would, circulate amongst the fools of this court.
"Kotori-dono," the voice broke into her thoughts cleanly, though the murmur was no louder than a breath. Then and only then did she notice the feel of a strong arm bracing her by the stomach, cradling her -- though not too close -- to the warmth of a body. The hand that held hers seemed oddly familiar, firm and gentle, and her mind raced to put a face to the feeling.
She straightened with dignity, regaining her lost balance and then tilting her chin up the slightest to make known that she was unfazed. She would not know it, but though her eyes stared on as though dead, her features were serene and regal, making both her mother and brother proud. The figure stepped to her side, his fingers still curled around hers. "Come," he murmured, his breath inches from her cheek, and the sounds of conversation resumed as the silent world once her captive audience faded into the noise.
She bowed her head slightly, her hair falling to shield the sides of her face like a curtain.
"Arigatou, Seiichiro."
She could feel their gazes upon her, the heat and chill of them intermingling with the many buzzing sounds of speculation that seemed to slither from one end of the hall to the other. Her fingers, cold as her palms were, struggled to maintain their casualness on the wooden banister, even as the fear of falling demanded that they clutch tightly as though her life depended upon it.
She had never realized just how numerous the steps were and she resolved it within herself to never take such things for granted ever again.
It was strange, being blind. She had imagined it to be eternal darkness like the deadest of nights without any sign or sight of a moon. Instead, it seemed to be both the lack and presence of all colors; and most curiously, she found that she could still identify darkness from light. It was seeing and not seeing at the same time, for shapes and form had abandoned her to a landscape as barren as a desert that extended over and above to where a sky should have been.
"What on earth was she thinking?" Someone voice hissed to a silent companion, and Kotori tightened her hold on the neck of her koto as if to relieve the tension that had been slowly building in her breast. Honor. She told herself, repeating the word over and over as gravity danced at her feet, suspending the next step as though she would tread next onto nothing. I was thinking of honor. Her jaw tightened just a little and her heartbeat spiked as surely as a broken string snaps. She had never been given to temper, as bouts of such would be beneath a Kakita, but now the feeling seemed to stalk and claw within her, like an unsettled falcon freed from it's hood, desperate for the great blue sky. I have done something that none of you would ever understand, for you all would see my family in ruin and my mother shunned fr--
Her footing failed. In her mind it seemed the ground yawned to claim her. She had no time to think and yet at the same time all the world to think. She would fall, she thought numbly, and she would rise. The speculations later would do as they would, circulate amongst the fools of this court.
"Kotori-dono," the voice broke into her thoughts cleanly, though the murmur was no louder than a breath. Then and only then did she notice the feel of a strong arm bracing her by the stomach, cradling her -- though not too close -- to the warmth of a body. The hand that held hers seemed oddly familiar, firm and gentle, and her mind raced to put a face to the feeling.
She straightened with dignity, regaining her lost balance and then tilting her chin up the slightest to make known that she was unfazed. She would not know it, but though her eyes stared on as though dead, her features were serene and regal, making both her mother and brother proud. The figure stepped to her side, his fingers still curled around hers. "Come," he murmured, his breath inches from her cheek, and the sounds of conversation resumed as the silent world once her captive audience faded into the noise.
She bowed her head slightly, her hair falling to shield the sides of her face like a curtain.
"Arigatou, Seiichiro."
3 comments:
This is a wonderful reflection of the effects of blindness on Kotori, and how she must have felt as soon as she had accomplished the deed. The way you portrayed the reactions of the other courtiers was also spot-on.
And, of course, there is Seiichiro... Lovely, how he catches her towards the end of the piece... Foreshadowing of things to come, perhaps?
Foreshadowing of things to come, perhaps?
In a way yes -- but then again, you've already given me their present, so I'm just reworking the past. :)
The way you portrayed the reactions of the other courtiers was also spot-on.
Would you believe I was actually very worried about that? ^^; But I'm glad you think that the way they responded was appropriate. I actually wanted to write about what happened to her mother, but then I figured it would be best to just let my imagination fill in the silences. :)
The silence will let people's imaginations run wild, and they can speculate all they want, and to be honest, I want to see what sort of theories they can come up with.
*laughs*
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