Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction / Sailor Moon Fan Fiction / Azumanga Daioh Fan Fiction ❯ Love Reincarnate ❯ Revelations Of Reincarnation ( Chapter 2 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Serenitychan13 
Anime/Manga: Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction / Sailor Moon Fan Fiction / Azumanga Daioh Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Romance / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 07.20.2004 | Updated On: 08.17.2004 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.6K | Visits: 320 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction / Sailor Moon Fan Fiction / Azumanga Daioh Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Romance / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 07.20.2004 | Updated On: 08.17.2004 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.6K | Visits: 320 | Status: Completed
Love Reincarnate
A Rurouni Kenshin Alternate Universe Fic
By: Serenity-chan
Chapter 2:
Revelations Of Reincarnation
Souzou and Midori were sitting on a bench under a large sakura tree in the quad of the campus, eating in silence. Souzou was thinking about the drawing he had seen. The man and woman seemed so familiar, as if he had known them... He vaguely recognized the man from one of his high school history books.
It was his namesake, the leader of a group known as the Sekihoutai - Souzou Sagara. He had been stabbed in the back by the early Meiji government and excecuted. Souzou barely suppressed the urge to shudder. His birthday was March the third, the day his namesake was excecuted in 1868. He cursed his mother's unique mind for a moment.
It had been her whacked-out idea to name him after some unknown victim of the political system. All his life he had grown up hearing in school that the Sekihoutai were a bunch of traitors and had grown to hate his name. When he had found out the truth about the Sekihoutai, he was totally enraged. But he wouldn't think about that now...
"Saginuma-san," he said quietly, breaking the silence. "Who are the people in your drawings?"
"Please, you don't have to call me that," Midori replied, dodging the question in an equally soft voice.
"Midori-san, then," Souzou corrected himself, not deterred. "Who are they?"
Midori looked away, turning red again. She really didn't know. All she knew was that she kept having these recurring dreams from the age of sixteen on. She was seeing things through the eyes of the woman in the pictures, living with and loving this man by her side. It was as if she were sharing another person's memories. But that was silly and anyway, she couldn't tell HIM all that. He probably already thought she was a lunatic. There was no need to go and prove it!
"I dunno," she said, shifting uncomfortably. "Just something that came up."
Souzou flipped through the sketchbook and his eyes widened when he found a picture that couldn't have been anyone but HIM! He carefully traced the lines of the sketch. The man was again bared to the waist. Souzou recognized his own features - the slim yet muscular build, the unruly black hair that always hung over one eye, even the scar on his stomach! He remembered what his grandfather had said to him once, about reincarnation.
- "It's not just about identical appearances," his grandfather had told him after he confided in the old man about a particular... dream. "You may share your predecessor's memories, however faint they may be. The stronger the memory, the more recurrent the dream... I think I may have been a hamster at one point because..." -
Souzou shook his head. His grandfather was just a loony old man, babbling about the past and some garbage about reincarnation. He turned his focus back to Midori, who was worrying her lower lip with her teeth. She was looking at him a little oddly, as if he had been spacing out.
"Sorry about that," he mumbled. "I just saw..."
"I know," Midori said, cutting him off.
"So... where ya from?" inquired Souzou, eager to change the subject.
"I'm from here, noplace interesting," Midori replied in monotone. "How about you?"
"My family's based not far from Shimo-suwa," Souzou told her. "The lake's within walking distance of our house."
"Pretty," breathed Midori.
"Enough spacing!" shouted Ready For Action. "Ask him something!"
"So what classes are you in?" Midori asked lamely. "What's your area of art?"
Souzou smiled.
"I'm a singer," he responded, waiting for the inevitable.
"Can I hear?" asked Midori.
"HUH!?" Souzou exclaimed, choking on his strawberry Pocky.
He had totally expected her to assume he was gay and leave.
"Well, uh, sure I guess," he stammered. "Anything particular?"
"I was hoping you would pick something," Midori said sheepishly.
Souzou smiled again, blushing a little.
"How about sometime when there aren't all these people around?" he offered shyly.
Midori was about to answer when a gust of wind picked up. The pages of her sketchbook flipped wildly, landing on the one drawing she had never wanted ANYONE to see. Souzou's eyes automatically fell on the page in front of him. Those cocoa-brown eyes widened disturbingly and he slammed the book shut.
"That one's not mine," Midori lied. "My little sister drew it."
Souzou gulped in relief.
"Ok..." he choked out.
"Sorry about that! My sister's such a perv," Midori said exasperatedly, knowing she was lying but doing a damn good job of it anyway.
"Er... It's alright..." said Souzou.
It wasn't like he had never seen that before... He had gone to a normal high school and his friends were normal guys, so he'd seen his share of dirty magazines. Hell, Kyo had a personal library of them until his mom found out. Souzou and his friends knew good and well what lust was. But none of those cheap photos had the raw passion and love he saw in that drawing. His dream came roaring back into his head.
That same woman, the one in the traditional yukata, was lying beneath him. His dreams were heated and they always had the same beautiful, romantic night. He could hear the woman panting his name, but he always woke up before he could say hers coherently. Snapping out of his... fantasy, Souzou forced his eyes to focus on Midori's face. Before he could stop himself...
"Midori..." the name escaped his lips like a whispered prayer.
"What?" Midori snapped, thrown off by his lack of an honorific with her name.
"Nothing..." Souzou muttered, cursing his male brain. "I just spaced out a little."
"Ok..." Midori answered. "But anyway, what classes do you have?"
Souzou laughed at her rather desperate attempt at a subject change.
"Double periods of Advanced Theory 2 first thing - it's gonna be total hell- , then I have a private lesson until lunch," he told her. "After lunch, I have a practice period, then a study hall. Last of all is figure drawing. Don't ask me why. I just decided to try for an extra class. And that's just Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays, alright! I have regular classes on other days. Booked solid all the time til Sunday."
"Well, SOMEONE's just a LITTLE bit of an overachiever, aren't they?" Midori teased.
Souzou rolled his eyes.
"I think I have the same figure drawing course as you," said Souzou, as if this had just dawned on him, pointing to his schedule.
"Oh, I don't have that class---" Midori started.
"Damn," muttered Souzou.
"--- I'm a co-instructor," finished Midori.
Souzou's jaw dropped and his eyes nearly popped out of his handsome face.
"WHAT!?" he exclaimed, sounding as if he were being strangled.
"Yup, that means *I* will be teaching YOU," Midori announced proudly.
"Just don't laugh," warned Souzou.
"Trust me, I won't be," Midori assured him, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Today is my first day as a co-instructor..."
Souzou smiled at her, though she could see the concern in his eyes.
"Good luck!" he told her.
"Just don't cause any trouble," she begged, wanting to do good her first day.
Souzou took Midori's hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He wasn't sure why, it just seemed like the right thing to do, and Midori didn't deny him. Violet eyes met cocoa-brown and both lit up.
"Don't worry," Souzou assured her - then his manner turned flirtatious and charming, as it had been that morning. "I'll be your star student!"
Midori smacked his shoulder lightly and froze as the bell rang.
"YIPE!" she squealed. "I have to get to my artistic design class!"
"See ya in about an hour!" Souzou called, stuffing his books into his bag and heading off.
Midori watched him go, then bent to pick up her bags. She checked once more and, yes they were all there. The color supplies - pastels, pencils, oils and watercolors - were organized together in one bag. Her complete works were in the portfolio in her backpack, right next to her watercolor pads and pencil sketchbooks. She never noticed that one particular red leatherbound sketchbook had been swept up into the wrong bag.
A Rurouni Kenshin Alternate Universe Fic
By: Serenity-chan
Chapter 2:
Revelations Of Reincarnation
Souzou and Midori were sitting on a bench under a large sakura tree in the quad of the campus, eating in silence. Souzou was thinking about the drawing he had seen. The man and woman seemed so familiar, as if he had known them... He vaguely recognized the man from one of his high school history books.
It was his namesake, the leader of a group known as the Sekihoutai - Souzou Sagara. He had been stabbed in the back by the early Meiji government and excecuted. Souzou barely suppressed the urge to shudder. His birthday was March the third, the day his namesake was excecuted in 1868. He cursed his mother's unique mind for a moment.
It had been her whacked-out idea to name him after some unknown victim of the political system. All his life he had grown up hearing in school that the Sekihoutai were a bunch of traitors and had grown to hate his name. When he had found out the truth about the Sekihoutai, he was totally enraged. But he wouldn't think about that now...
"Saginuma-san," he said quietly, breaking the silence. "Who are the people in your drawings?"
"Please, you don't have to call me that," Midori replied, dodging the question in an equally soft voice.
"Midori-san, then," Souzou corrected himself, not deterred. "Who are they?"
Midori looked away, turning red again. She really didn't know. All she knew was that she kept having these recurring dreams from the age of sixteen on. She was seeing things through the eyes of the woman in the pictures, living with and loving this man by her side. It was as if she were sharing another person's memories. But that was silly and anyway, she couldn't tell HIM all that. He probably already thought she was a lunatic. There was no need to go and prove it!
"I dunno," she said, shifting uncomfortably. "Just something that came up."
Souzou flipped through the sketchbook and his eyes widened when he found a picture that couldn't have been anyone but HIM! He carefully traced the lines of the sketch. The man was again bared to the waist. Souzou recognized his own features - the slim yet muscular build, the unruly black hair that always hung over one eye, even the scar on his stomach! He remembered what his grandfather had said to him once, about reincarnation.
- "It's not just about identical appearances," his grandfather had told him after he confided in the old man about a particular... dream. "You may share your predecessor's memories, however faint they may be. The stronger the memory, the more recurrent the dream... I think I may have been a hamster at one point because..." -
Souzou shook his head. His grandfather was just a loony old man, babbling about the past and some garbage about reincarnation. He turned his focus back to Midori, who was worrying her lower lip with her teeth. She was looking at him a little oddly, as if he had been spacing out.
"Sorry about that," he mumbled. "I just saw..."
"I know," Midori said, cutting him off.
"So... where ya from?" inquired Souzou, eager to change the subject.
"I'm from here, noplace interesting," Midori replied in monotone. "How about you?"
"My family's based not far from Shimo-suwa," Souzou told her. "The lake's within walking distance of our house."
"Pretty," breathed Midori.
"Enough spacing!" shouted Ready For Action. "Ask him something!"
"So what classes are you in?" Midori asked lamely. "What's your area of art?"
Souzou smiled.
"I'm a singer," he responded, waiting for the inevitable.
"Can I hear?" asked Midori.
"HUH!?" Souzou exclaimed, choking on his strawberry Pocky.
He had totally expected her to assume he was gay and leave.
"Well, uh, sure I guess," he stammered. "Anything particular?"
"I was hoping you would pick something," Midori said sheepishly.
Souzou smiled again, blushing a little.
"How about sometime when there aren't all these people around?" he offered shyly.
Midori was about to answer when a gust of wind picked up. The pages of her sketchbook flipped wildly, landing on the one drawing she had never wanted ANYONE to see. Souzou's eyes automatically fell on the page in front of him. Those cocoa-brown eyes widened disturbingly and he slammed the book shut.
"That one's not mine," Midori lied. "My little sister drew it."
Souzou gulped in relief.
"Ok..." he choked out.
"Sorry about that! My sister's such a perv," Midori said exasperatedly, knowing she was lying but doing a damn good job of it anyway.
"Er... It's alright..." said Souzou.
It wasn't like he had never seen that before... He had gone to a normal high school and his friends were normal guys, so he'd seen his share of dirty magazines. Hell, Kyo had a personal library of them until his mom found out. Souzou and his friends knew good and well what lust was. But none of those cheap photos had the raw passion and love he saw in that drawing. His dream came roaring back into his head.
That same woman, the one in the traditional yukata, was lying beneath him. His dreams were heated and they always had the same beautiful, romantic night. He could hear the woman panting his name, but he always woke up before he could say hers coherently. Snapping out of his... fantasy, Souzou forced his eyes to focus on Midori's face. Before he could stop himself...
"Midori..." the name escaped his lips like a whispered prayer.
"What?" Midori snapped, thrown off by his lack of an honorific with her name.
"Nothing..." Souzou muttered, cursing his male brain. "I just spaced out a little."
"Ok..." Midori answered. "But anyway, what classes do you have?"
Souzou laughed at her rather desperate attempt at a subject change.
"Double periods of Advanced Theory 2 first thing - it's gonna be total hell- , then I have a private lesson until lunch," he told her. "After lunch, I have a practice period, then a study hall. Last of all is figure drawing. Don't ask me why. I just decided to try for an extra class. And that's just Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays, alright! I have regular classes on other days. Booked solid all the time til Sunday."
"Well, SOMEONE's just a LITTLE bit of an overachiever, aren't they?" Midori teased.
Souzou rolled his eyes.
"I think I have the same figure drawing course as you," said Souzou, as if this had just dawned on him, pointing to his schedule.
"Oh, I don't have that class---" Midori started.
"Damn," muttered Souzou.
"--- I'm a co-instructor," finished Midori.
Souzou's jaw dropped and his eyes nearly popped out of his handsome face.
"WHAT!?" he exclaimed, sounding as if he were being strangled.
"Yup, that means *I* will be teaching YOU," Midori announced proudly.
"Just don't laugh," warned Souzou.
"Trust me, I won't be," Midori assured him, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Today is my first day as a co-instructor..."
Souzou smiled at her, though she could see the concern in his eyes.
"Good luck!" he told her.
"Just don't cause any trouble," she begged, wanting to do good her first day.
Souzou took Midori's hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He wasn't sure why, it just seemed like the right thing to do, and Midori didn't deny him. Violet eyes met cocoa-brown and both lit up.
"Don't worry," Souzou assured her - then his manner turned flirtatious and charming, as it had been that morning. "I'll be your star student!"
Midori smacked his shoulder lightly and froze as the bell rang.
"YIPE!" she squealed. "I have to get to my artistic design class!"
"See ya in about an hour!" Souzou called, stuffing his books into his bag and heading off.
Midori watched him go, then bent to pick up her bags. She checked once more and, yes they were all there. The color supplies - pastels, pencils, oils and watercolors - were organized together in one bag. Her complete works were in the portfolio in her backpack, right next to her watercolor pads and pencil sketchbooks. She never noticed that one particular red leatherbound sketchbook had been swept up into the wrong bag.