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Anime/Manga Fan Fiction >> Rurouni Kenshin

The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

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Ice Blue Tear
By Jitou

 

Boyu Productions Presents
Ice Blue Tear


{No, it can't be. There must be some mistake. But...}
Shinomori Aoshi, leader of the Oniwa Banshu, inwardly shook
his head, crying out in protest. Yet by all appearances, he seemed
to be calmly looking out the window.
{I knew she had stopped making her visits a few months ago,
but I never would have guessed...}
"Is something the matter, Aoshi-sama?" Omasu, who had just
come into the room to bring him some tea, asked. She was
wondering why Aoshi seemed to be staring out at nothing.
Granted, Aoshi normally did seem to be doing nothing but wear
that blank expression on his face, but somehow she felt there was
something wrong.
"No, there's nothing wrong. Thank you for the tea," Aoshi
said, his eyes focusing back in on the room. Omasu just nodded,
feeling that something was amiss, but unable to verify anything.
Now with the stoic, expressionless face that was seated on the desk
before her. With nothing else, Omasu left the room.
Seconds passed. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into
hours. Aoshi sat at his desk, unmoving. Over and over, the scene
replayed itself in his mind. As he had looked out the window, he
had seen Misao, lovely Misao, carousing with a young man whom
the okashira often saw frequenting one of the taverns down the
street. He was an introverted young man, who worked his keep,
just like any citizen of Kyoto. Misao had seemed so absorbed, so
engaged, trying to amuse and illicit reactions from the young man.
Aoshi didn't really understand why it seemed to bother him. Or
perhaps, his cool, outward demeanor refused to understand. But his
insides screamed in truth and understanding. And the truth hurt.
{That's... that's what she used to do... only for me...} Aoshi
thought bitterly, the only sign of his distress a whitening of his
knuckles as he rested his hands on his desk. {Have I really lost
her? But why...}
Although he fought against it, refused to acknowledge it, the
leader of the Oniwa Banshu felt a heavy ache in his chest. It was a
sort of numbing sensation, a fearful sensation, a sensation which
left him paralyzed. The tea that lay on his desk before him lay
untouched, the once hot liquid now as cold as the room's
temperature. Aoshi's eyes involuntarily went to the tea cup. No, it
wasn't as cold as the room. It was much colder.
He hadn't really realized when Omasu had began serving him
tea. In his memory, he recalled only one thing. Someone else used
to knock on his door, murmur a slight apology and bring in the tea.
A free-spirited, aggressive girl. A girl whose endless tirades and
incessant chatter drifted along the periphery of his senses.
He never realized how much he enjoyed the sparkle of that
distraction. Not until now. And with awareness, came regret.
{How, how could I have been so foolish?} his inner self railed,
threatening to chip away at his stone cold exterior. {All this time, I
wasted it, and now, I've let the opportunity pass me by.}
Unbidden, a small tear formed at the base of his right eye. As it
grew larger Aoshi suddenly became aware of it, and suddenly, his
hand jerked, almost of its own volition. The sudden movement of
his hand, uncontrolled, was an anomaly to him. It felt alien,
frightening, terrifying. It smashed into the tea cup upon his desk.
The tear from his eye fell.
The tea cup sloshed across the table, spilling its tepid content
over the hard wooden surface.
Aoshi started, in surprise, in fear. In despair.
The tea flowed across the table, spilling onto his chest and
coat. The world grew cold, the numbness in his chest screamed.
Aoshi felt his mind falling, a lulling sensation, as if it were frozen,
on ice. His fingers bunched up, his body wracked in a sudden
spasm, and then his mind shook. His chest felt like it had been
stashed under a pile of frozen ice blocks, for all the sensation he
could get out of it. The pain was intense, fiercer than a raging
blizzard. His head felt like mallets were smashing onto it, giving
him a giddy, flighty feeling. He collapsed against his chair,
drained, exhausted, wanting to die.
The tear fell onto the floor, where it drained away into the
wood.






***Blah blah


I'm sorry, you all must be wondering what the hell
this is. I know it's not my style, I guess some of
you are shocked, thinking that the cheerful boyu
couldn't possible have written such an angsty little
thing.

I dunno, it's just that I'm really feeling like shit
tonight. I feel really bad, and this little piece of
"therapeutic" writing just popped out. Unfortunately,
it didn't seem to work. I still feel terrible.

Urg.

Later.




------------------------------------------------------
Jitou mosquiton@crosswinds.net





 

The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

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