Post by Hazuki Tsukimiya on Jan 15, 2018 23:39:58 GMT -5
There was no rain this time around, but the air of mysticism the garden had exuded during her first visit was still very much present. A little less cold and wet, perhaps, but there all the same. Intensified, even, in the crisp dawn air.
She had set out from Seireitei full of intent just over an hour ago, but despite the her best efforts she had been unable to find her way back. Retracing her steps once, twice, three times, all to no use; wherever this garden of hers had once been, it had moved.
And then, just like that, she had turned around to start again and found herself in front of the altogether too-familiar wrought iron gate. It had been dark when she had set out, but now the sun was rising and she could hear the muted splashes of the koi pond just out of view. She steeled herself, not fully knowing why. And in she went.
There was no casual greeting, no jaunty wave. The garden seemed—apart from the fish—empty, and for a moment, Hazuki was crestfallen. She had been expecting the same sort of welcome she had received last time; some clever remark or chilling observation intended as much to set her on edge as it was to remind her that she was a very small piece in a much larger game.
‘No, I try not to repeat the same thing twice,’ came the voice and Hazuki’s blood froze, ‘I wouldn’t want people to start thinking I’m becoming predictable.’
Her eyes flicked to the headstones in one of the corners of the garden, and saw the man who she was convinced had not been there a moment ago. He was kneeling in front of them with his back turned towards her, a wooden bucket and ladle beside him.
He scooped some water out of the bucket and poured it over one of the headstones. ‘I’m glad you took me up on my invitation,’ he continued, not turning away from his work. ‘Changed your mind, have you?’
Hazuki swallowed, but the lump in her throat remained. ‘Yes,’ she answered.
He paused, the ladle submerged in the bucket. ‘Still haven’t forgiven me, huh?’
A longer pause. ‘No.’
Another splash of water. ‘Thought not. Ah well, I doubt you ever will.’
Knowledge rose to his feet at last, stooping to pick up the bucket, and stopping just long enough to pluck a small orange fruit from the apple tree that was growing from one of graves. It looked to Hazuki to be a mandarine, and for a moment she thought she was seeing things. Then she remembered where she was.
‘Those graves,’ she began, taking an almost hesitant step forward. ‘Do you know the people buried there?’
‘Know them? Sure, I know them. Better than most, not as well as some. But then that isn’t saying much, is it?’ He made his way to the koi pond and dumped the rest of the water from the bucket, smiling at the splash it made. ‘It’s Wishes’ thing. I just help take care of them once in a while, as thanks for letting me hang around here as much as I do.’
The bucket and ladle were gone, spirited away by some unseen force, and Knowledge finally turned to Hazuki, his starry eyes twinkling as he began to peel the mandarine. ‘You have questions, I can tell.’
‘What’s Wishes?’
‘One of my oldest friends, along with Truth. Like me, they’re—ah, more than what they seem.’
Hazuki frowned. ‘Like you? Like how you’re not really...’ her voice trailed off as she gestured vaguely at him, trying—and failing—to put words to the sensation that the man before her didn’t really exist on the same terms as she did. ‘There?’
‘Yes, like that. He grants wishes. He’d grant you yours, but I don’t think you’d like what he’d take in return. Truth could too, I suppose, but he’s not the helpful sort.’ He had finished peeling, and the long, unbroken rind seemed to unravel until at last he was left holding nothing but the peeled fruit, which he deftly split in half.
Hazuki’s eyes narrowed. ‘And what about you? You offered to send me home the last time we met.’
Something subtle changed in Knowledge’s face; narrowed eyes and a smile that didn’t look quite as genial as it usually did. A touch, Hazuki thought, of something hungry in the way his lips curled. Something vicious. Having learned first-hand what he was capable of, Hazuki almost visibly shrunk back.
‘Perhaps my offer has expired,’ he replied. ‘You wouldn’t be the first person I’ve denied, or given something they didn’t necessarily want or ask for.’ He peeled a segment free of one of the halves and popped it into his mouth, the hungry look dissipating. ‘Besides, imagine how Kasumi and Rania would feel if you were to suddenly disappear.’
Color rose to Hazuki’s pale cheeks, her grey eyes glittering angrily. ‘They would understand,’ she hissed, perhaps a bit more forcefully than she had intended.
Another segment, this time with a smile. Hazuki could smell the citrus even at this distance. ‘Did you?’
She couldn’t count how many times her father had done this very thing to her; to poke and prod until at last she had lost her temper and he had laughed and kissed her forehead. It was enough to make her sick knowing that he was gone forever and this man remained when the situation could just as well have been entirely reversed. But it was not, she noted with some dim satisfaction at the back of her mind, enough for her to boil over. Not this time.
Instead, she simply repeated herself, her voice lower, calmer this time. Convinced that they would manage just fine without her. ‘They would understand.’
‘Probably,’ admitted Knowledge with a shrug. As if he didn’t know better. ‘But I’m afraid I can’t help you anymore. Go home, Hazuki. There’s nothing for you here.’
‘Can’t? Or won’t?’ Her fists were clenched, her lips pressed together into a thin line that was very reminiscent of her aunt.
He peered at her for a moment in silence. The moment stretched on, and on, until at last he looked down at what remained of his mandarine. Put another segment in his mouth, chewed and swallowed. Smiled.
‘Both.’
And then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone. Only the smell of the fruit remained.
It was a long time before Hazuki moved again. Then, finally, she exhaled, slow and shuddering. Closed her eyes and breathed in, the orange light of the morning sun reduced to a ruddy glow through her eyelids. She said nothing. Only the koi made any noise, as they had done since she had arrived.
She didn’t want to go back. She didn’t want to see that strange Seireitei again, filled with people who she didn’t know—or worse, were different from what she remembered. She was sick of having her memories undermined by shadowy reflections in a place that was, in every way, simply a worse reality than the one she had grown up in. She didn’t want to have to face it all again, day in and day out, to leave the apartment she shared with Rania every morning and be reminded of just how awful it was. To feel so disconnected from it all and yet so utterly reviled. It was something she couldn’t just tear down with her sword and it made her feel utterly helpless.
And now her one escape had been taken from her. Her one way out, gone.
She took another deep breath, her fingers guiding themselves to Sakurazuki’s hilt. The touch soothed her as it always did, but it wasn’t enough. She didn’t want to go back. The deep irony of Knowledge’s words almost made her laugh. There was nothing for her here.
In time, she left. Whatever small hope she had that the starry-eyed man would return with a changed mind had evaporated, and Hazuki had glumly turned back to Seireitei and started walking.
The sun was almost at its zenith when the city came into view, and Hazuki’s face had hardened into a stiff mask. She passed the tidy houses in the lower districts of Rukongai utterly unseeing, and only when she reached the white tiles did she realize that someone was waiting for her as she approached.
It was, Hazuki thought at once, her poise that gave it away. That she was short and had long, black hair merely confirmed it, as did the long ribbon affixed to the short sword belted at her hip. But it was the poise, the telegraphed lethality even in a resting stance that announced simultaneously that this was who was in charge and that a light step was second nature for them. It was poise that was intensely familiar.
But somehow, it was neither the features nor the poise that really hammered home what it was Hazuki now knew beyond any shadow of a doubt. It was what the woman in front of her was holding.
The rind of a mandarine in one, long unbroken piece.
She was home.
°1,536
And thus ends the tale of Hazuki Tsukimiya.
She had set out from Seireitei full of intent just over an hour ago, but despite the her best efforts she had been unable to find her way back. Retracing her steps once, twice, three times, all to no use; wherever this garden of hers had once been, it had moved.
And then, just like that, she had turned around to start again and found herself in front of the altogether too-familiar wrought iron gate. It had been dark when she had set out, but now the sun was rising and she could hear the muted splashes of the koi pond just out of view. She steeled herself, not fully knowing why. And in she went.
FADED
There was no casual greeting, no jaunty wave. The garden seemed—apart from the fish—empty, and for a moment, Hazuki was crestfallen. She had been expecting the same sort of welcome she had received last time; some clever remark or chilling observation intended as much to set her on edge as it was to remind her that she was a very small piece in a much larger game.
‘No, I try not to repeat the same thing twice,’ came the voice and Hazuki’s blood froze, ‘I wouldn’t want people to start thinking I’m becoming predictable.’
Her eyes flicked to the headstones in one of the corners of the garden, and saw the man who she was convinced had not been there a moment ago. He was kneeling in front of them with his back turned towards her, a wooden bucket and ladle beside him.
He scooped some water out of the bucket and poured it over one of the headstones. ‘I’m glad you took me up on my invitation,’ he continued, not turning away from his work. ‘Changed your mind, have you?’
Hazuki swallowed, but the lump in her throat remained. ‘Yes,’ she answered.
He paused, the ladle submerged in the bucket. ‘Still haven’t forgiven me, huh?’
A longer pause. ‘No.’
Another splash of water. ‘Thought not. Ah well, I doubt you ever will.’
Knowledge rose to his feet at last, stooping to pick up the bucket, and stopping just long enough to pluck a small orange fruit from the apple tree that was growing from one of graves. It looked to Hazuki to be a mandarine, and for a moment she thought she was seeing things. Then she remembered where she was.
‘Those graves,’ she began, taking an almost hesitant step forward. ‘Do you know the people buried there?’
‘Know them? Sure, I know them. Better than most, not as well as some. But then that isn’t saying much, is it?’ He made his way to the koi pond and dumped the rest of the water from the bucket, smiling at the splash it made. ‘It’s Wishes’ thing. I just help take care of them once in a while, as thanks for letting me hang around here as much as I do.’
The bucket and ladle were gone, spirited away by some unseen force, and Knowledge finally turned to Hazuki, his starry eyes twinkling as he began to peel the mandarine. ‘You have questions, I can tell.’
‘What’s Wishes?’
‘One of my oldest friends, along with Truth. Like me, they’re—ah, more than what they seem.’
Hazuki frowned. ‘Like you? Like how you’re not really...’ her voice trailed off as she gestured vaguely at him, trying—and failing—to put words to the sensation that the man before her didn’t really exist on the same terms as she did. ‘There?’
‘Yes, like that. He grants wishes. He’d grant you yours, but I don’t think you’d like what he’d take in return. Truth could too, I suppose, but he’s not the helpful sort.’ He had finished peeling, and the long, unbroken rind seemed to unravel until at last he was left holding nothing but the peeled fruit, which he deftly split in half.
Hazuki’s eyes narrowed. ‘And what about you? You offered to send me home the last time we met.’
Something subtle changed in Knowledge’s face; narrowed eyes and a smile that didn’t look quite as genial as it usually did. A touch, Hazuki thought, of something hungry in the way his lips curled. Something vicious. Having learned first-hand what he was capable of, Hazuki almost visibly shrunk back.
‘Perhaps my offer has expired,’ he replied. ‘You wouldn’t be the first person I’ve denied, or given something they didn’t necessarily want or ask for.’ He peeled a segment free of one of the halves and popped it into his mouth, the hungry look dissipating. ‘Besides, imagine how Kasumi and Rania would feel if you were to suddenly disappear.’
Color rose to Hazuki’s pale cheeks, her grey eyes glittering angrily. ‘They would understand,’ she hissed, perhaps a bit more forcefully than she had intended.
Another segment, this time with a smile. Hazuki could smell the citrus even at this distance. ‘Did you?’
She couldn’t count how many times her father had done this very thing to her; to poke and prod until at last she had lost her temper and he had laughed and kissed her forehead. It was enough to make her sick knowing that he was gone forever and this man remained when the situation could just as well have been entirely reversed. But it was not, she noted with some dim satisfaction at the back of her mind, enough for her to boil over. Not this time.
Instead, she simply repeated herself, her voice lower, calmer this time. Convinced that they would manage just fine without her. ‘They would understand.’
‘Probably,’ admitted Knowledge with a shrug. As if he didn’t know better. ‘But I’m afraid I can’t help you anymore. Go home, Hazuki. There’s nothing for you here.’
‘Can’t? Or won’t?’ Her fists were clenched, her lips pressed together into a thin line that was very reminiscent of her aunt.
He peered at her for a moment in silence. The moment stretched on, and on, until at last he looked down at what remained of his mandarine. Put another segment in his mouth, chewed and swallowed. Smiled.
‘Both.’
And then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone. Only the smell of the fruit remained.
It was a long time before Hazuki moved again. Then, finally, she exhaled, slow and shuddering. Closed her eyes and breathed in, the orange light of the morning sun reduced to a ruddy glow through her eyelids. She said nothing. Only the koi made any noise, as they had done since she had arrived.
She didn’t want to go back. She didn’t want to see that strange Seireitei again, filled with people who she didn’t know—or worse, were different from what she remembered. She was sick of having her memories undermined by shadowy reflections in a place that was, in every way, simply a worse reality than the one she had grown up in. She didn’t want to have to face it all again, day in and day out, to leave the apartment she shared with Rania every morning and be reminded of just how awful it was. To feel so disconnected from it all and yet so utterly reviled. It was something she couldn’t just tear down with her sword and it made her feel utterly helpless.
And now her one escape had been taken from her. Her one way out, gone.
She took another deep breath, her fingers guiding themselves to Sakurazuki’s hilt. The touch soothed her as it always did, but it wasn’t enough. She didn’t want to go back. The deep irony of Knowledge’s words almost made her laugh. There was nothing for her here.
In time, she left. Whatever small hope she had that the starry-eyed man would return with a changed mind had evaporated, and Hazuki had glumly turned back to Seireitei and started walking.
The sun was almost at its zenith when the city came into view, and Hazuki’s face had hardened into a stiff mask. She passed the tidy houses in the lower districts of Rukongai utterly unseeing, and only when she reached the white tiles did she realize that someone was waiting for her as she approached.
It was, Hazuki thought at once, her poise that gave it away. That she was short and had long, black hair merely confirmed it, as did the long ribbon affixed to the short sword belted at her hip. But it was the poise, the telegraphed lethality even in a resting stance that announced simultaneously that this was who was in charge and that a light step was second nature for them. It was poise that was intensely familiar.
But somehow, it was neither the features nor the poise that really hammered home what it was Hazuki now knew beyond any shadow of a doubt. It was what the woman in front of her was holding.
The rind of a mandarine in one, long unbroken piece.
She was home.
°1,536
And thus ends the tale of Hazuki Tsukimiya.