Define the Truth

I wonder. I wonder a lot. Why? How? When? To none of these questions have I got the answer. I simply have the question that continues to resound in my thoughts. Thoughts haunted not only with these questions... but also with images that together form the scene where I proved myself to be mistaken. To be wrong. ... to be a Lie.

It is an impossibility. After all, how can I... the so-called Truth, be a Lie? How can I ever be wrong? Is not all I say or do per definition right and the way things should be? Is that not the very definition of the Truth?

... these questions bother me. I always was the one to have, no...to BE the answer. Yet now I am nothing more than this pathetic excuse. "I never wanted to murder her. It simply is the way things go". It is not right. Nothing is right anymore.

Yesterday, at the funeral of the fallen, I heard someone speak the truth. A sound I hadn't heard for so very long. The person spoke of Heroism, Love, Loyalty. He spoke of these things in honour of the fallen. In honour of the dead. The murdered.

I realise it was my mistake. I realise that if I had done things differently, all of this would not have happened. But I am not able to turn back time. I do not know a trick that might allow me to make amendments. This is a mistake that cannot be turned back.

I stayed with her after the funeral. Perhaps I was worried, concerned. Maybe I felt guilty. Once again the answer escapes me. I do know, however, that I felt that I needed to be there. So I stayed with her while she tried to keep from breaking. I saw how her lips were pressed together and white. I saw the emptiness in her once so bright golden eyes. I saw how her defences slowly crumbled. All the while I knew it was my fault.

She kept up the façade that she was okay until she sat down under the tree that had witnessed so many of her... their memories. Many things had happened here. Many arguments, fights and conversations. But also peaceful silences filled with nothing but their breathing. Declarations of their love and friendship. So many things under this very tree.

When the first tears rolled down her face she still sat pressed with her back against the stem, knees pulled up and her forehead resting on them. I knew she was crying by the way her shoulders shocked. By the miserable aura she gave off. That obvious pain.

Her thoughts were just as obvious as her sadness. The muttering of words spoken years earlier.

-Sweet Memories-

The time they had met. The first time she had been taken on a tour. The first time Soi had beaten up a guy who harassed her. The first time Soi had saved her life. The first time she had saved Soi her life. Their endless nights of training and talking. Their times just sitting in the dark, watching the moon shine and the petals flow by.

A short laugh escaped her mouth, despite the tears blocking up her throat. Her legs stretched out and she faced the night sky. A shaky smile was on her face. They had shared so many good times. So many times she loved and would never forget. Times with her Little Bee. A person... she would never forget.

Then she closed her eyes and movies played behind her eyelids, invisible for the rest of the world to see. The only things remaining about Her that were hers alone to see.

If I had eyes, I would have cried. Right there and then. Their love had still been in the making. A lot of insecurities that had to be polished away. Had they been given the time I am sure they would have succeeded. But I broke them off.

I plucked a flower that had not yet bloomed. I touched the wings of a butterfly while it was drying in the sun, having only just been transformed from a small caterpillar. I took the bag and stone... and drowned the kitten.

"Wisely and slow, they stumble that run fast."

I let my emotions run. I charged without a reason, without thinking it over. I stumbled. I fell. And my fall was broken by Life and Love, crushing them.

Whose truth is the Truth? Who defines the truth, and says what is right? Not me, that much I can say. Do I even exist? Or am I merely a changing fantasy, different for every living soul? Somewhere along the way I lost my identity. I contradicted myself and created happiness simply for the purpose to hurt.

What is the Truth? Can I be defined in one sentence? Or even in a million words? For happiness on one side can lead to hurt on the other. I should not... not be able to contradict myself. Do I even exist? Do I?!

... Even this answer is different for everyone. So before I, who can no longer be called the Truth, fade away... Tell me, what is your one truth?

-Sweet Goodbyes-

The laugh slowly fell off her face. With a shaky breath she opened her eyes. Her left hand tightened on the golden hoops, her right on the decorated knife.

"Oh happy dagger. This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die."

Her eyes slowly drifted shut.

---

AN: And so the story of a caring Ōmeada, a not-so-very-shy Soi, let's just call it general OOC-ness, ends. I hope you all enjoyed reading this, or at the very least don't think it's a total waste of time. I realise it contains quite a bit of ooc characters and things that simply don't make sense... But still, I think I did a good enough job for my very first fic. I've only just started learning so expect more of me to come!

A big thank you to everyone who reviewed! You got me by surprise by all being so positive, really ^^

And now I say Adieu, and till next time! -bows deeply-