Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Kazemaru and Miharu ❯ Chapter 27

Miharu was having trouble adjusting to life in the palace. She had only been gone a couple weeks, but it seemed now that she was a completely different person, and the trappings of her home that were once familiar now seemed odd and different. It wasn't that they had changed, but rather as if the light came in the room from the opposite direction than usual, so that she saw them in a way she never had before.

 

She also had difficulty adjusting to the company. Kazemaru wasn't an intellect, but he was certainly a good deal deeper than her handmaidens. All they talked about was fashion and who-did-what and some poem they had just heard. She had a hard time working her way into their prattling. The descriptions of kimonos they admired paled beside the beautiful gifts Kazemaru had given her, especially the silver kimono. Nobody seemed to have any gossip that was anywhere near as interesting as her own life, and she certainly couldn't talk about that. Poetry was the only thing she could talk about, and the girls got tired of it quickly because they had to memorize everything while she could read or write it.

 

Besides that, she was constantly distracted by thoughts of Kaze. She would find herself remembering in vivid detail the warm brush of his lips on the sensitive skin of her neck. Or perhaps the firm grip of his calloused hands on her wrists. The way he smelled, like rainstorms and pine, with a touch of that elusive metallic scent she couldn't name—it was almost magnetic, and she supposed it had to do with him being a yokai.

 

She would gaze at a wall for half an hour and think of these things. When her handmaidens brought her attention back to the present, she would have to come up with some excuse for her ponderings. She wasn't very good at it, but her handmaidens were too dense for the most part to figure it out.

 

Except, maybe Chiaki. Miharu found it almost unnerving the way she watched her, carefully, taking everything in and storing it away. She never asked questions, but Miharu always had the uncomfortable sensation that Chiaki knew her secret. Maybe it was her eyes… they were strange somehow, and Miharu sometimes wondered if Chiaki could read minds or something ridiculous like that.

 

The weeks dragged by like an old man taking his time to reach the dinner hall, and spring began to imperceptibly melt into early summer. Miharu was impatient and concerned by turns, and found herself picking up nervous habits like biting her lip and tapping her nails. She received no letters from Kazemaru, but she figured he was just being cautious. It occurred to her only once that something may have happened to him in his war. She panicked, but in an instant a calming wave washed over her, drowning all of her fears. He was there, she could feel it, somewhere. She began to focus on this sensation, as something to pass the time. At times it grew very strong, and seemed to be coming from a specific direction. She would look, and once she thought she saw something white flit between the trees. She smiled. He was always watching out for her, wasn't he?

 

* * *

 

Kaito, too, was growing impatient. Nothing had happened for almost two months, and he began to wonder if the demon would ever return at all. Not that he wanted his daughter in harm's way, he just wanted retribution.

 

Shun continually urged his patience, but after a while he grew concerned as well. At last he decided that some sort of provocation should occur.

 

“But how do we draw out the damn vermin?” Kaito asked.

 

Shun thought about that a moment. “Perhaps if I tampered with the spell he placed on her, he would become angered,” he suggested.

 

Kaito laughed. “Houshi-dono, that just might do it.” He clapped the man on the back.

 

Shun smiled a little. “It is important to think like one's enemy, betimes.”

 

From the corner, Chiaki laughed.

 

* * *

 

Miharu was in the garden with her maids, arranging some flowers while one of them haltingly recited poetry. She was, as usual, thinking of Kazemaru and wondering when he would come for her as he had promised. It was a beautiful day, and when she looked up, she was not surprised to see the priest who had taken up residence in their palace strolling on the stone pathways.

 

He hailed them, and the ladies murmured a few greetings in response. Miharu smiled and nodded, and went back to her flowers. The priest did not walk on, though.

 

“Milady Miharu,” he began cautiously, “Are you feeling alright?”

 

Miharu looked up and frowned. “Yes, I'm quite alright. Why do you ask?”

 

The priest came to stand next to her. “Well, it's just, your aura looks a little dim. Have you been feeling nervous and ill at ease lately?”

 

Miharu smiled a little. “Why yes, actually, I have. Though I can't imagine why…” she tried very hard to make the last sound as far from sarcastic as possible.

 

The priest nodded. “I thought so.” He reached into his robes and pulled out a small scroll. “You can read, can't you?” he asked.

 

She nodded. “Mostly hiragana, but a little Kanji.”

 

He smiled. “Well, this is a holy text for meditation. I really think you might feel better if you read it.” He held it out to her.

 

Miharu grinned. “Thank you! How very thoughtful of you, Houshi-dono.” She set down the arrangement she was working on and reached up to take the scroll.

 

The instant she touched the handle, though, she felt as if something passed through her. It was like walking through a curtain of thin fire, painful for a moment, and then gone as quickly as it came. She paused. That was strange…. She felt oddly heavy, and something seemed not quite right, as if the world had tilted. The urge to panic rose like a bitter tide at the back of her throat, and she tried to calm herself. She probed for the comforting sensation of Kaze's presence, the easiest way to smooth over her strange reaction.

 

There was nothing.

 

She tried harder, reaching out mental fingertips through the thick blackness of the world like someone lost in a foggy night.

 

Nothing.

 

Suddenly she found herself alone in all the world. The priest and her maids seemed to be nothing but distant figures. She was so, so alone. She could not recall the touch of his hand, the sound of his voice, the feel of the wind winding its fingers in her hair.

 

Miharu doubled over sobbing, and her very surprised maids rushed to comfort her. Shun stared wide-eyed at the grief-stricken girl. That was certainly not the response he had expected.

 

Perhaps there was more going on here than he thought….

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AN:

 

Poor Miharu… must be patient, must be patient… wait? Am I talking to Miharu or myself? Lol.

 

Thank you guys so much for all your comments on Eternity and In Present Company. My original work is where I focus all of my skill, though, so I would really love hearing from you on this stuff.