Fan Fiction ❯ chase after the wind ❯ 5 ( Chapter 5 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: gnosis 
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 02.24.2004 | Updated On: 09.22.2004 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.5K | Visits: 161 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 02.24.2004 | Updated On: 09.22.2004 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.5K | Visits: 161 | Status: Completed
When illusion spin her net
I'm never where I want to be
And liberty she pirouette
When I think that I am free
Watched by empty silhouettes
Who close their eyes but still can see
No one taught them etiquette
So I will show another me
- Peter Gabriel
The solemn vale of night was torn open by the forceful hand of Morpheous, god of sleep. Her eyes shot open and darted quickly around the room, desperately searching for something to validate her own existence. She looked frantically for her purpose and she found nothing but the void to great her. She had not made any sudden jesters, no quick movements betrayed her primal fear and yet it was there. She could fool the outside world into believing in her deception but, deep down, she could not escape the fear that remained a constant traveling companion, much like death.
Yet it wasn't death she feared. Death, at worst, was a peaceful and endless sleep, lacking the trappings and toil of life. No, she feared she was not living her life. The only real choice she had ever made, the one thing she did based not on honor or discipline or loyalty to some obscure ancestor who had damned her long ago. She did it for love, not honor. It was a travesty, truly a poetic irony, the kindest person she had ever known was taken from her and used as a weapon, a tool for the acquisition of power. What choice did she have, she had freed him, hadn't she? Hadn't she ?!?! And yet she took no comfort from her choice and the amount of punishment forced upon her had only caused further doubt. She now asked such base questions as who am I and, more importantly, why am I. The void that people keep at a distance, warding it off with spells of religion and philosophy and science, now threatened to consume her. It was as if the words of Nietzsche sounded true in the expanse that was herself, ' if you stare long enough into the void, it stares back.'
She sat up slowly and caste another glace around. This one was not intent on finding meaning but on finding matter. The room, as dark as a realm of space devoid of all stars, came into focus, as if immerging from a primal darkness. The hotel room was fairly expensive one, though it was not the one that everyone else was at. She would have just assumed stay at the hotel that the tournament had provided for her, she found no need for this façade that they were now acting out. Maybe she was blind to the rationality but all she knew was pretending to be Hayate's wife was hurting her. It was killing her slowly, taking everything from her. She felt as though she stood within spitting distance of Eden, the perfect and beautiful place of her dreams, and yet she could not reach it. He laid next to her, his breath being eased in and out of his body, close enough to feel, and yet he was never so distant from her. He too was slowly dying, somehow she felt this, that he was also losing their battle to the void. He claimed that their enemies knew that hotel and so this deception was needed. 'And yet was he so arrogant to presume that he could alter fate with trickery?' she thought, silently.
She needed to leave this room, she felt so sure of that. To be that close to him, that tempted, was too much for any soul to bare. The room seemed to have shrunk down to near nothingness, it seemed as though she and he were the only objects in the room. She knew she had to leave, now. Slowly, with the same mechanistic and methodic movements that she had been conditioned to make, she got out of bed and began to search the room for her clothing. She wore a PJs but had no intention of returning to this room. She would sneak in before he awoke and act like she had always been there, like nothing had happened, like everything was fucking wonderful. But, for now, she would allow a sliver of truth to pierce her otherwise flawless disguise. She put on the same shorts and tank top that had seen her through her ordeal with the jet and the airports and the car ride etc etc etc. She silently put on her shoes and then moved to the door.
Her hand reached for the knob. It caste her hands slim and eloquent reflection back faithfully. It seemed almost as if it was attempting to answer the question of who but she took no note of it. She noticed that he hand slightly trembled but with a bit of effort they quickly returned to the stone cold state that was her persona. She cast one last longing look back into the abyss, back where he lay, and whispered silently to the spirit of the wind ' god night my brother and love' At that the she left the room, as silently as a phantom, an echo.
She decided she would go for a walk. The hotel was fairly big and had several conference rooms and a lounge and a pool. She would find something to occupy herself, find something to keep her from thinking. Yet the phantasms of the day seemed to overpower her mind at every step, for they kept screaming in her ear and forcing her to relive the experiences of life. The hallway seemed bright, to a blinding degree, and she couldn't help but think of the light at the end of the tunnel. This new realm seemed as bad as the old one, but in a different way. The one from whence she had immerged had been to dark to perceive anything, and she had felt lost in her own ignorance, this new place seemed to bright to recognize anything, it seemed to true for her to exist. Her feat seemed to move of their own accord and she was soon in the elevator.
She stepped in and hit lobby floor. She recalled the fact that, near the pool, were vending machines and chairs. She prayed that she would at last find a place to lay her weary head. The elevator jerked to life, almost as if showing resent for being woken at this hour, and then began it's decent. Music played, softly, yet it seemed to her more to be echoes from an old dream. The numbers on the green display slowly ticked off the floors, one by one, counting down with inhuman precision the amount of floors left. Soon she would reach her destination and yet she still felt hesitant, for some reason.
The elevator stopped at the lobby and the doors parted introducing her to yet a third reality. She sleepily rubbed her eyes and stepped out of the device. The only thing that greeted her at this level was the sound of a television, playing gently in the background. It was, no doubt, the night clerk's desperate attempt to ward of sleep. It filled the entire lobby, seeming amplified by the emptiness. She walked slowly towards the pool, which was outside.
The place that they had gone was a tropical region, somewhere in the south pacific, but her dear brother had neglected to tell her where exactly. His threat was that if she failed, her exile would begin there and then she would be hunted. It didn't really make much difference though, all she knew was, as she pulled open the door to the outside, she was greeted with an warm and salty air. The wind blew in gently, again playfully tossing her hair and touching her body. This time it seemed to have some effect, for she allowed a slight smile to form at her lips. She enjoyed the smell of the sea and, as she stepped out of the artificial structure, found the new reality welcoming. It was the perfect mix of light and dark, which both seemed less opposing elements and more friends. They seemed to need each other, to love each other. She allowed the door to close behind her and stepped out.
She moved towards then vending machines, and then she saw him. The man looked fairly old, for what was left of the hair on his head was gray and his beard was the same shade. His eyes seemed tired and worn and his whole figure gave the impression of someone who had gone through life many times Yet there was something else to him. He carried an air about him, a certain human dignity. He seemed to be a true warrior, though aged, one who had fought and found satisfaction in it. She knew from first glance that the man had probably never beat up anyone and yet his struggle was so much more. His looked as though he, like her and her brother, had battled the void, and he seemed to have immerged unsaved. He held a book and his eyes, which had only ceased for a moment to glance at the cause of the disturbance to his solitude, immediately found their way back into the words and phrases.
She normally would have been bothered by his presence, and yet it felt right somehow. He seemed to have a disarming way of being, an existence that seemed to give off peace. Somehow the question was not so much why he was here as it was what would this world be like without him. The smile that had formed grew slightly bigger for now she had company. She doubted that they would speak more then two words to each other, but it was his presence that mattered, his existence served as a way of validating her own. She walked to the machine and put in some money and made her selection. Of course, nothing happened and the thing seemed to mock her.
You have to really hit the enter button, otherwise it sticks, miss? His voice said. There was not a hint of hate or loathing or anything else she had grown accustomed to, it seemed more to her like a mild cerosoty then anything else. ' Well, a bit of chat won't hurt, it can only pass the time' she thought.
She hesitated, should she give her real name or the one devised for deception by her brother, Ayane she said, a bit of defiance carried on it's wake. It was her name and she would do with it as she pleased.
Well then miss Ayane, may I ask why such a young one as yourself has been driven from bed. It has long been my experience that, at this hour of 3, demons seemed to love to crawl up from my past and besiege me with pain. The hour is late and people, especially young ones need their wits. He said, marking his book age and setting it down.
I am not a child She said, a tone of anger..
No, your not. Your eyes are far to worn to be a child's and your voice carries with it to much force. I merely meant that, at this hour, such innocent one's as yourself have nothing to fear from demons
And what would you know of it?!?! She asked, becoming increasingly angered. His voice wasn't condescending, it seemed more concerned, but it was how right he seemed to be. She was a bit scared and she reacted, as she always did, with anger.
Nothing whatsoever he said. He then picked back up his book and proceeded reading it.
Silence seemed to fill the world for a few seconds. She felt the need to talk to someone, she felt the need for company, even from a stranger. Well, who are you and what demons have drove you from you bed? She asked, at last. She really didn't care, she simply wanted to show how assigning such questions were and how personal.
Without so much as a thought or a glance, the man said My name is Augustine. Call me Gus, everyone does. As for my demons, well they come from my life. I have done much that I have to answer for and was simply reflection on my cross and how heavy it is. It is more a fear that what I have become is not what god wished me to be
There is no god she said. This surprised her, for she had never indulged in such ideas before. And yet, she had never really considered the matter, at least not that she could recall. Yet it seemed so right. Gods. They were merely stone idols that her brother forced her to swore upon, nothing more. To fear them, in this light, seemed ridiculous.
He shut his book, again, and looked at her. His eyes did not house either the hate or the sexual perversion that she saw in other men's eyes. They held merely sadness, but a different kind, a kind of dignified melancholy. They, although aged, hadn't lost the fire within them and they seemed, to her, to be sharper then razors.
Then, Ayane, you are much stronger then myself. He cast a glance towards the heavens, which seemed to shine forth with a glory never before paralleled, I was once the same as you, I said such things without knowing what they meant. The stage upon which I have acted is slowly coming to a close, my world is crumbling around me and it is that one idea that keeps life in my bones. It is from him that I find hope
For what? she asked, now genuinely interested.
That somewhere and somehow I have done something worth while. I fear not my death, but the actions of my life, my dear. It is through him, or her he added, as if an afterthought that I find peace. I thought that I had been searching for truth, it turns out I was indulging my ego. I have written theories and treaties and I find no solace in either of them. I am having to reconsider my ideals
Why? she asked
My ex wife just called me today, on my vacation of course. In any case I was a lousy husband, more married to my work then my wife and I am just now realizing that I was an even worse father. My daughter died, hit by a drunk. A strange sort of laugh interrupted him, almost a chuckle. I always said I would become a better human being the next day, the day of new dawn, and I am just now seeing that the next day won't ever come This book I am reading is one that I and my peers have laughed and poked fun of and yet, strangely, I take comfort from it Irony, isn't it? We have such little time and we waste it chasing ghosts Come now, what about you? What evil befalls your mind and soul?
I my husband and I He chuckled a bit and she stopped and said, irritated What?!
No, it is just that I am not used to hearing that term with such endearment. Most people view marriage more as an obligation, something that must be done. It has become a right of passage, an way into a new stage of life. And yet, when you speak that term, there is still some passion and energy. It isn't love, it is something far more intense, men far more poetic then me have termed it yearning. I was just admiring the fact that you can have what you wanted and yet still have such passion for it. Sorry, go on. He said
That is part of the problem. He just doesn't seem to understand me, no it's worse then that, he doesn't view me as something in my own right Does that make any sense? she asked. She slowly became aware that she was disclosing to this strange person at 3:30 in the morning things that she had never trusted anyone with, including herself. And yet somehow it seemed right, she knew they would both remain relatively anonymous and that was a comfort for her. She felt that, due to the nature of the conversation, she could be fairly open with him. On top of that, she was tired from her insomnia and so wasn't thinking in her normal, stone cold, logic.
You are the sum of your acts, not the sum of your being?
Yes that is exactly right She said, happy to be understood, I am merely an extension of our family, not someone He just won't see past it, he is blind All he can think about is his job and his form of currency, she paused, ' after all,' she thought, 'what is currency for a shinobi but honor?' He just I don't know
go on they say this is good for the soul he said, simply
Well I am here with you to take care of some family matters and yet I don't know, I thought I knew what I wanted.but. now it's confused it all just doesn't make sense. My dad died, recently, and I just He was the one thing I thought for sure about, the one being that was pleasing to the gods and now he is gone She laughed a bit, mostly to keep from crying, My... sister she began again, this word lacked the usual spite that she usually gave to it. did something really stupid and I have come here to fix it, to set everything right Yet I feel as though it is wrong'
Did she ask for help? Gus's voice chimed in.
No, no she didn't. I guess she made the best choices she could, given her options She said, in contemplation. She had never really considered Kasumi's motivation for actions. My path was so clear and now it is just all fucked up
Based off the knowledge I have, why don't you just walk away?
it is much more complex then that It has to do with honor and responsibility I can't just walk away
You are, above all else, responsible for yourself and that is about all you are responsible for. Listen kid, take it from an old conformist, life is much more then doing what your told. You always have choice, there is always an option. I wish I knew that before. I no, it would have made no difference, for I is through experience that I learned that, not truth. God though, if only He paused for several seconds, seeming to maul this over in his mind I am going to see if my demons will let me rest and you should do the same With the new light of dawn perhaps the world will look better. Best of luck to you, may you choose better then I did... Unbenosed to her, he would never see that new light. He would take a gun that he bought earlier that day and repaint the walls of his bathroom, a lovely new color of dead. It was easier for him, the coward's he was, to die then bare life. He would, in the end, do as he had always done, run away. It was habit and what was stronger then it?
Good night she said as he walked back into the building. ' choice,' she thought, sarcastically, ' yea right. Did I choose to be a bastered? Did I choose for my mother to be raped? Did I choose to love him, my brother? My life has been simply my struggle to live, there is no choice, merely reaction. Still Fuck I don't know god my head hurts I just am not thinking clearly but when she is gone I know that everything will be fine I will be ok, somehow' and yet an annoying voice whispered, in some distant part of her mind, 'how?' She shook of this question and removed her candy from the dispenser. She would go for a walk, at least she would enjoy that
( notes: yea, took me 4 months, sorry Don't know if anyone cares anymore, but I had the sudden urge to finish this I took a few liberties with Ayane, but we will attribute any un Ayane acts to tiredness Besides, we have all acted out of character, no? New email, "mailto:djordjevicc@kenyon.edu" , in case anyone cares)
I'm never where I want to be
And liberty she pirouette
When I think that I am free
Watched by empty silhouettes
Who close their eyes but still can see
No one taught them etiquette
So I will show another me
- Peter Gabriel
The solemn vale of night was torn open by the forceful hand of Morpheous, god of sleep. Her eyes shot open and darted quickly around the room, desperately searching for something to validate her own existence. She looked frantically for her purpose and she found nothing but the void to great her. She had not made any sudden jesters, no quick movements betrayed her primal fear and yet it was there. She could fool the outside world into believing in her deception but, deep down, she could not escape the fear that remained a constant traveling companion, much like death.
Yet it wasn't death she feared. Death, at worst, was a peaceful and endless sleep, lacking the trappings and toil of life. No, she feared she was not living her life. The only real choice she had ever made, the one thing she did based not on honor or discipline or loyalty to some obscure ancestor who had damned her long ago. She did it for love, not honor. It was a travesty, truly a poetic irony, the kindest person she had ever known was taken from her and used as a weapon, a tool for the acquisition of power. What choice did she have, she had freed him, hadn't she? Hadn't she ?!?! And yet she took no comfort from her choice and the amount of punishment forced upon her had only caused further doubt. She now asked such base questions as who am I and, more importantly, why am I. The void that people keep at a distance, warding it off with spells of religion and philosophy and science, now threatened to consume her. It was as if the words of Nietzsche sounded true in the expanse that was herself, ' if you stare long enough into the void, it stares back.'
She sat up slowly and caste another glace around. This one was not intent on finding meaning but on finding matter. The room, as dark as a realm of space devoid of all stars, came into focus, as if immerging from a primal darkness. The hotel room was fairly expensive one, though it was not the one that everyone else was at. She would have just assumed stay at the hotel that the tournament had provided for her, she found no need for this façade that they were now acting out. Maybe she was blind to the rationality but all she knew was pretending to be Hayate's wife was hurting her. It was killing her slowly, taking everything from her. She felt as though she stood within spitting distance of Eden, the perfect and beautiful place of her dreams, and yet she could not reach it. He laid next to her, his breath being eased in and out of his body, close enough to feel, and yet he was never so distant from her. He too was slowly dying, somehow she felt this, that he was also losing their battle to the void. He claimed that their enemies knew that hotel and so this deception was needed. 'And yet was he so arrogant to presume that he could alter fate with trickery?' she thought, silently.
She needed to leave this room, she felt so sure of that. To be that close to him, that tempted, was too much for any soul to bare. The room seemed to have shrunk down to near nothingness, it seemed as though she and he were the only objects in the room. She knew she had to leave, now. Slowly, with the same mechanistic and methodic movements that she had been conditioned to make, she got out of bed and began to search the room for her clothing. She wore a PJs but had no intention of returning to this room. She would sneak in before he awoke and act like she had always been there, like nothing had happened, like everything was fucking wonderful. But, for now, she would allow a sliver of truth to pierce her otherwise flawless disguise. She put on the same shorts and tank top that had seen her through her ordeal with the jet and the airports and the car ride etc etc etc. She silently put on her shoes and then moved to the door.
Her hand reached for the knob. It caste her hands slim and eloquent reflection back faithfully. It seemed almost as if it was attempting to answer the question of who but she took no note of it. She noticed that he hand slightly trembled but with a bit of effort they quickly returned to the stone cold state that was her persona. She cast one last longing look back into the abyss, back where he lay, and whispered silently to the spirit of the wind ' god night my brother and love' At that the she left the room, as silently as a phantom, an echo.
She decided she would go for a walk. The hotel was fairly big and had several conference rooms and a lounge and a pool. She would find something to occupy herself, find something to keep her from thinking. Yet the phantasms of the day seemed to overpower her mind at every step, for they kept screaming in her ear and forcing her to relive the experiences of life. The hallway seemed bright, to a blinding degree, and she couldn't help but think of the light at the end of the tunnel. This new realm seemed as bad as the old one, but in a different way. The one from whence she had immerged had been to dark to perceive anything, and she had felt lost in her own ignorance, this new place seemed to bright to recognize anything, it seemed to true for her to exist. Her feat seemed to move of their own accord and she was soon in the elevator.
She stepped in and hit lobby floor. She recalled the fact that, near the pool, were vending machines and chairs. She prayed that she would at last find a place to lay her weary head. The elevator jerked to life, almost as if showing resent for being woken at this hour, and then began it's decent. Music played, softly, yet it seemed to her more to be echoes from an old dream. The numbers on the green display slowly ticked off the floors, one by one, counting down with inhuman precision the amount of floors left. Soon she would reach her destination and yet she still felt hesitant, for some reason.
The elevator stopped at the lobby and the doors parted introducing her to yet a third reality. She sleepily rubbed her eyes and stepped out of the device. The only thing that greeted her at this level was the sound of a television, playing gently in the background. It was, no doubt, the night clerk's desperate attempt to ward of sleep. It filled the entire lobby, seeming amplified by the emptiness. She walked slowly towards the pool, which was outside.
The place that they had gone was a tropical region, somewhere in the south pacific, but her dear brother had neglected to tell her where exactly. His threat was that if she failed, her exile would begin there and then she would be hunted. It didn't really make much difference though, all she knew was, as she pulled open the door to the outside, she was greeted with an warm and salty air. The wind blew in gently, again playfully tossing her hair and touching her body. This time it seemed to have some effect, for she allowed a slight smile to form at her lips. She enjoyed the smell of the sea and, as she stepped out of the artificial structure, found the new reality welcoming. It was the perfect mix of light and dark, which both seemed less opposing elements and more friends. They seemed to need each other, to love each other. She allowed the door to close behind her and stepped out.
She moved towards then vending machines, and then she saw him. The man looked fairly old, for what was left of the hair on his head was gray and his beard was the same shade. His eyes seemed tired and worn and his whole figure gave the impression of someone who had gone through life many times Yet there was something else to him. He carried an air about him, a certain human dignity. He seemed to be a true warrior, though aged, one who had fought and found satisfaction in it. She knew from first glance that the man had probably never beat up anyone and yet his struggle was so much more. His looked as though he, like her and her brother, had battled the void, and he seemed to have immerged unsaved. He held a book and his eyes, which had only ceased for a moment to glance at the cause of the disturbance to his solitude, immediately found their way back into the words and phrases.
She normally would have been bothered by his presence, and yet it felt right somehow. He seemed to have a disarming way of being, an existence that seemed to give off peace. Somehow the question was not so much why he was here as it was what would this world be like without him. The smile that had formed grew slightly bigger for now she had company. She doubted that they would speak more then two words to each other, but it was his presence that mattered, his existence served as a way of validating her own. She walked to the machine and put in some money and made her selection. Of course, nothing happened and the thing seemed to mock her.
You have to really hit the enter button, otherwise it sticks, miss? His voice said. There was not a hint of hate or loathing or anything else she had grown accustomed to, it seemed more to her like a mild cerosoty then anything else. ' Well, a bit of chat won't hurt, it can only pass the time' she thought.
She hesitated, should she give her real name or the one devised for deception by her brother, Ayane she said, a bit of defiance carried on it's wake. It was her name and she would do with it as she pleased.
Well then miss Ayane, may I ask why such a young one as yourself has been driven from bed. It has long been my experience that, at this hour of 3, demons seemed to love to crawl up from my past and besiege me with pain. The hour is late and people, especially young ones need their wits. He said, marking his book age and setting it down.
I am not a child She said, a tone of anger..
No, your not. Your eyes are far to worn to be a child's and your voice carries with it to much force. I merely meant that, at this hour, such innocent one's as yourself have nothing to fear from demons
And what would you know of it?!?! She asked, becoming increasingly angered. His voice wasn't condescending, it seemed more concerned, but it was how right he seemed to be. She was a bit scared and she reacted, as she always did, with anger.
Nothing whatsoever he said. He then picked back up his book and proceeded reading it.
Silence seemed to fill the world for a few seconds. She felt the need to talk to someone, she felt the need for company, even from a stranger. Well, who are you and what demons have drove you from you bed? She asked, at last. She really didn't care, she simply wanted to show how assigning such questions were and how personal.
Without so much as a thought or a glance, the man said My name is Augustine. Call me Gus, everyone does. As for my demons, well they come from my life. I have done much that I have to answer for and was simply reflection on my cross and how heavy it is. It is more a fear that what I have become is not what god wished me to be
There is no god she said. This surprised her, for she had never indulged in such ideas before. And yet, she had never really considered the matter, at least not that she could recall. Yet it seemed so right. Gods. They were merely stone idols that her brother forced her to swore upon, nothing more. To fear them, in this light, seemed ridiculous.
He shut his book, again, and looked at her. His eyes did not house either the hate or the sexual perversion that she saw in other men's eyes. They held merely sadness, but a different kind, a kind of dignified melancholy. They, although aged, hadn't lost the fire within them and they seemed, to her, to be sharper then razors.
Then, Ayane, you are much stronger then myself. He cast a glance towards the heavens, which seemed to shine forth with a glory never before paralleled, I was once the same as you, I said such things without knowing what they meant. The stage upon which I have acted is slowly coming to a close, my world is crumbling around me and it is that one idea that keeps life in my bones. It is from him that I find hope
For what? she asked, now genuinely interested.
That somewhere and somehow I have done something worth while. I fear not my death, but the actions of my life, my dear. It is through him, or her he added, as if an afterthought that I find peace. I thought that I had been searching for truth, it turns out I was indulging my ego. I have written theories and treaties and I find no solace in either of them. I am having to reconsider my ideals
Why? she asked
My ex wife just called me today, on my vacation of course. In any case I was a lousy husband, more married to my work then my wife and I am just now realizing that I was an even worse father. My daughter died, hit by a drunk. A strange sort of laugh interrupted him, almost a chuckle. I always said I would become a better human being the next day, the day of new dawn, and I am just now seeing that the next day won't ever come This book I am reading is one that I and my peers have laughed and poked fun of and yet, strangely, I take comfort from it Irony, isn't it? We have such little time and we waste it chasing ghosts Come now, what about you? What evil befalls your mind and soul?
I my husband and I He chuckled a bit and she stopped and said, irritated What?!
No, it is just that I am not used to hearing that term with such endearment. Most people view marriage more as an obligation, something that must be done. It has become a right of passage, an way into a new stage of life. And yet, when you speak that term, there is still some passion and energy. It isn't love, it is something far more intense, men far more poetic then me have termed it yearning. I was just admiring the fact that you can have what you wanted and yet still have such passion for it. Sorry, go on. He said
That is part of the problem. He just doesn't seem to understand me, no it's worse then that, he doesn't view me as something in my own right Does that make any sense? she asked. She slowly became aware that she was disclosing to this strange person at 3:30 in the morning things that she had never trusted anyone with, including herself. And yet somehow it seemed right, she knew they would both remain relatively anonymous and that was a comfort for her. She felt that, due to the nature of the conversation, she could be fairly open with him. On top of that, she was tired from her insomnia and so wasn't thinking in her normal, stone cold, logic.
You are the sum of your acts, not the sum of your being?
Yes that is exactly right She said, happy to be understood, I am merely an extension of our family, not someone He just won't see past it, he is blind All he can think about is his job and his form of currency, she paused, ' after all,' she thought, 'what is currency for a shinobi but honor?' He just I don't know
go on they say this is good for the soul he said, simply
Well I am here with you to take care of some family matters and yet I don't know, I thought I knew what I wanted.but. now it's confused it all just doesn't make sense. My dad died, recently, and I just He was the one thing I thought for sure about, the one being that was pleasing to the gods and now he is gone She laughed a bit, mostly to keep from crying, My... sister she began again, this word lacked the usual spite that she usually gave to it. did something really stupid and I have come here to fix it, to set everything right Yet I feel as though it is wrong'
Did she ask for help? Gus's voice chimed in.
No, no she didn't. I guess she made the best choices she could, given her options She said, in contemplation. She had never really considered Kasumi's motivation for actions. My path was so clear and now it is just all fucked up
Based off the knowledge I have, why don't you just walk away?
it is much more complex then that It has to do with honor and responsibility I can't just walk away
You are, above all else, responsible for yourself and that is about all you are responsible for. Listen kid, take it from an old conformist, life is much more then doing what your told. You always have choice, there is always an option. I wish I knew that before. I no, it would have made no difference, for I is through experience that I learned that, not truth. God though, if only He paused for several seconds, seeming to maul this over in his mind I am going to see if my demons will let me rest and you should do the same With the new light of dawn perhaps the world will look better. Best of luck to you, may you choose better then I did... Unbenosed to her, he would never see that new light. He would take a gun that he bought earlier that day and repaint the walls of his bathroom, a lovely new color of dead. It was easier for him, the coward's he was, to die then bare life. He would, in the end, do as he had always done, run away. It was habit and what was stronger then it?
Good night she said as he walked back into the building. ' choice,' she thought, sarcastically, ' yea right. Did I choose to be a bastered? Did I choose for my mother to be raped? Did I choose to love him, my brother? My life has been simply my struggle to live, there is no choice, merely reaction. Still Fuck I don't know god my head hurts I just am not thinking clearly but when she is gone I know that everything will be fine I will be ok, somehow' and yet an annoying voice whispered, in some distant part of her mind, 'how?' She shook of this question and removed her candy from the dispenser. She would go for a walk, at least she would enjoy that
( notes: yea, took me 4 months, sorry Don't know if anyone cares anymore, but I had the sudden urge to finish this I took a few liberties with Ayane, but we will attribute any un Ayane acts to tiredness Besides, we have all acted out of character, no? New email, "mailto:djordjevicc@kenyon.edu" , in case anyone cares)