Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Desire ❯ Fumiko Matsuraya ( Chapter 7 )

Chapter VII : Fumiko Matsuraya

Thanks to all reviewers, silent or otherwise. I would like to especially thank Mojine, who is my kababayan and strengthened my conviction about writing this fic. The * line of this chapter is not from my imagination; the author of which escapes my mind once again.

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"ONCE UPON a time, there was a man who had Heaven over his head, the world in his arms and Hell underneath his feet. He had the sun and its fire at his disposal and everything in between. However, in all of his majesty and glory, he never had enough room to hold the love of his life in his heart. He may have had the sun, he may even control the stars and the moon, but it was all in eclipse. And so he yearned for light, up to this day, with the mark of a man who hungers with every fiber of his being: ardent ocher eyes.

"For there is nothing lost that may be found, if sought.*"

SHE TRAIPSED through the shadows and felt a sense of familiarity and ease. A whirlwind of memories threatened to return from her subconscious. However, a brick wall of fear and pain shielded them from her. Never a good combination…

The rustle of leaves and the soft fall of her footsteps cleaved through the air. Her back was ramrod straight and her insides were coiled spring. She can't help but feel eyes on her, like phantom hands clasped hers and an ironclad emotion engulfed her body. The billowing wind became whispers of the night and the glimmer of the stars transformed into a lover's greeting. Something eerie yet expected was supposed to happen; its promise carved in stone.

She gulped and heaved a weary sigh. It was becoming too solemn for her liking. The air was too quiet, the room too dark and she too alone. She approached the nearby lamp to illuminate the room. The fire glowed meekly, as if it was shying away from her luminance. Decided that it had to do, she sat at the porch and attempted to collect her thoughts.

"Here you are."

"Who's there?" She rose quickly and almost stumbled when she shuffled towards the yard. The voice chuckled at her near-accident. She harrumphed in indignation. "Who are you? Careful, I'm a martial artist." A flash in the darkness indicated that he - the intruder - carried a sword. If she shouted for help, her larynx would be torn in ribbons, if he was fast enough. Oh, wait, the nearest house is a block away, dammit.

"You know who I am. You've been far from me too long. I've been patient long enough." It sounded close to her. She felt something rise in her chest and made her teary-eyed. I shall wait for you. Then you shall wait forever. She brushed the moisture away and tried to be intimidating to the intruder.

"I don't understand what you're saying." She tried to move closer to that patch of moonlight and hoped for security in the light.

"I've come for you. I've come to love you as I've once done." As simple as that.

"You're crazy. Are you a stalker? Wait, don't answer that, of course you are. Go home to your wife, mister, I'm sure she'll accommodate your apparent needs. Or if not, go get yourself a willing whore." There, she said her piece. Perhaps if she put up a fight this jerk would eventually give up. She gasped as she found herself face to face with him. Her jaw slowly moved open as she focused into his visage. He's...

"This is becoming tedious. Sleep, my Light." He waved his hand over her eyes.

"Get out of my house. Get out, now before I--" her words were cut off in slumber. He carried her by the waist, wasted no time and leapt over the walls.

"We'll talk when you remember everything," he whispered to his beloved bundle.

WITH A start Kaoru jerked awake, the cobwebs in her head gave her a faint disoriented stare. Her arms were crossed on top of a desk and there were lines that indicated she slept on them for a good hour or two. It felt like that too, since she remembered very little of what had transpired before she dreamt.

Speaking of that, she shook her head in confusion. She knew she lost her memory of her past life, but it didn't bother her until now. She was found -- well, she found herself -- at a temple at the foot of Mt Fuji by a couple who was in charge there. They took her in after cleaning her wounds and dressing her injuries. Attempted to would be the correct phrase, actually. They cowered in amazement and fear as golden light bathe her and restored her health. They weren't the only one who was surprised, she convinced them later on, because she didn't know who she was.

With kind eyes and soft compassion, they took her in. They told her that she may be a handmaid of a mountain kami which would explain her lack of worldly recognition. It would only be a matter of time, they said to her, before her purpose would be realized. She let them at that, glad they didn't haul her into a traveling cirque or label her as a demon. They were overjoyed when they saw the sakura trees blooming out of season, every blue jay out in the porch during the dazzling light of day and even the herby tang of the ajisai that didn't come until fall. These wonderful phenomena they attributed to her, and she laughed gaily with their praises and kisses.

She took her place as their daughter and as an apprentice to taking care of the temple. It was a small edifice made of rosewood and surprisingly, for a secluded temple, didn't smell moldy. Over time, calling them as her parents didn't unsettle her somehow, and their bond solidified when they christened her Fumiko.

Her days were bright and gay. Matsuraya Shigeki and Mara were her parents. She didn't have nightmares. Not a leaf was out of place. She was Fumiko Matsuraya.

A WEEK passed without her thinking about that dream. Until now. It would recur every time she closed her eyes, even if it was only a nap, she would dream this vivid dream. A gnawing sensation clawed at her belly and confused her. There was no reason to be afraid, she posited to herself, I have no need for my past life because I am happy where I am.

She continued to carefully chop the root crops they grew in the yard. Even though she was an amnesiac, she knew that she didn't have any culinary skills. So she had asked Mara to teach her how, and she laughingly obliged, theorizing that the reason for her abysmal cooking skills was that deities had no use for mortal food. She flinched at the direct metaphor then blindly placed her hand over the stove fire.

Mara screamed, which prompted Shigeki to come bounding inside the kitchen. When he saw Fumiko's hand over the roaring flame, he immediately reached for the water bucket to douse the fire. Both he and Mara went to her, tried to assess the damage to her appendage. Miraculously and unsurprisingly, her flesh mended itself.

"I still feel the pain, otou-sama, okaa-sama." She touched her unbound hair and fiddled with the ends. "I tried cutting my hair yesterday, but the blade dulled after several attempts. I think it's as strong as the temple ropes. I also attempted to kill a blue jay, but no matter how hard I tried to grasp it still kept on breathing. "

"Oh, my little daughter..." Mara whispered and gathered Fumiko in her warm embrace.

"I'm so scared. I am certain there would be no death for me. And I don't want to see you wither away. I am lost," she sobbed into her mother's bosom.

Shigeki offered his consolation. "We might wrinkle with age, dearest, but our love for you is as fresh as the day Mt Fuji stood in all its glory."

"This isn't about death, Fumiko-chan. Tell us what bothers you so," Mara coerced softly.

She looked up at them. "T'is the truth I am scared. I have been...dreaming...about certain circumstances and it vexes me so."

"Tell us about these dreams," Shigeki said.

She drew a breath before she relayed the goings-on in her tumultuous mind. When she finished, there were tears in the eyes of her parents. Shigeki murmured something to Mara and she seemed to hesitate for a while before slumping in defeat. She reached inside the folds of her robe and extracted a burlap pouch.

"We think this belongs to you," Shigeki explained. Fumiko fumbled with the strings that tied the bundle in place. Curious about its contents, she hastily upended the tiny sack to reveal what's within. She gasped at what she saw.

A perfectly round stone of the deepest violet rested in her palm. A gossamer string, as delicate as a spider's web, held it in its middle. The stone itself was wonderfully warm and incredibly lightweight. She stared at it, like she was supposed to remember something, as if it were a catalyst to trigger her memory back. But nothing came.

She looked back up at her parents and tilted her head to the side in a silent question of what to do next. Both stared back quizzically and let her do what she wanted to do. Obviously, as one is wont to do with a necklace, she draped it around her neck.

"We found it along with you. Mara saw it several feet away from you and figured it's yours. Does it remind you of anything?"

"No. I don't think it's supposed to."

Her mother's brow went into orbit.

She laughed. "Mou, okaa-san!" Shigeki pinched her nose.

"C'mon, let's go prepare dinner."

"MAY I help you?"

"Yes, thank you. I am aware that you have found a young lady around here. Black hair, blue eyes, about this tall," a burly monk asked.

Mara's eyes widened. She peered into the man's eyes and noticed, just now, that he a companion. The figure was overshadowed by the monk's towering form so she was unable to catch a glimpse. She stared at them, and hoped they would give her further explanation. When they offered her none, she called for Shigeki.

"We just would like to ask you about a girl you found about a month ago."

"How did you know we found a lady?"

"So you did find one?" he deadpanned.

"Please sir, state your business. We are but an old couple taking care of this holy temple, meaning to live peaceful lives," Shigeki explained.

"Along with that girl?" the monk asked and pointed a finger towards the entrance of the temple. Surely, she was there, surrounded by blue jays that chirped chattily.

"Fumiko!" Mara gasped. Though a good ten feet away, Fumiko's head snapped in attention and looked at them. The figure behind the monk stepped away from the shadows that hid him and looked straight at her. He looked at her, in all his resplendent crimson hair, amber eyes and silver sword.

Shigeki eyed the sword warily and, remembering his daughter astounding gifts, misunderstood. "Fumiko, they're assassins! Run! Run away now!"

Her father's message was loud and clear. In a flurry of wings and dust, she bolted towards the yard.

The monk sighed at the commotion. "Let me take care of this," he said to his already missing companion.

Fumiko ran. No, flew as if the air were her feet. She didn't know where to go but all she knew was that she had to get away, to hide, to disappear. The man's eyes directed at her. They were on fire and she wasn't sure if she could handle that intense heat. Her breathing grew heavier. Was she slowing down?

A peculiar buzz caught in her ears. She stopped, as if on command and looked fatally behind her. He was there, standing a mere foot from her. Beads of salt trickled down her temple. He grinned.

"I can't escape from you, can I?" she gulped.

"No. I'm afraid not."

Her days would be bright and gay. Matsuraya Shigeki and Mara would still be her parents. She wouldn't have nightmares. Not a leaf would be out of place. As long as she's Fumiko Matsuraya.

But she knew she wasn't.