Adrift
Her heart beat beneath her hand, warm and steady and slow. It feels strange, she thought. Not at all as she had expected. She had imagined something erratic, unrestrained, weightless. Not this dull, unbroken rhythm, this heavy, ceaseless weight.
Not this, she thought. No. Not this.
Her hand fell weakly to her side. For a moment, she listened to the sigh and rustle of the wind. At the sound, longing swept through her, great white wings opening out.
She tilted her face to the sky. Where will I go from here? I can go anywhere, she thought. I am free. She tried to raise her arms, to lift her body and let the breeze bear her away, but she could not.
Damn it, she breathed. My body won't move. Her hands clutched the blooms about her, tightened around the slender stalks as if she could somehow gain purchase and launch into the sky. But she only crushed them in her hands, a sweet coolness running through her fingers and soaking into her palms. The flowers slipped from her grasp, their sad petals limply trailing past her feet and across her lap.
Why can't I move? she wondered angrily. Why? She struggled once more, but her limbs remained motionless, weighty and still as stone. She glanced about, searching the folds of her clothes as one would search for a stray thorn that had snagged the fabric and held her fast. She ran her hands across the silk, following the lines of her legs, her arms, her breast.
Abruptly, her hands closed over the cloth, enfolding that slow cadence between her palms.
My heart, she realized. It is my heart.
She bowed her head. I see, she thought. She smiled bleakly. So this is what I lied and schemed for. This is what I am dying for. Bitterness filled her mouth, stung her eyes. I'm such a fool. She smiled again.
So this is where it ends, right? She looked about at the empty field circling her, the birds wheeling overhead. I'm alone. This, she murmured, touching her heart again, sensing its dreary beat, is the freedom I was longing for.
The wind stirred once more, freeing the petals from their stems and scattering them before her eyes. For a moment, the world swirled about her, pink and gold. Then it blanched, blew white. She raised her head, startled.
He stood before her, his imperturbable gaze resting upon her, grave and golden. She stared at him in disbelief, whispered his name. But the sound receded, overcome by the pulse of her heart, which drummed, quick and restless now, in her ears.
He continued, silent, watching her. The pounding in her ears blended together into a smooth rush, two great white wings opening out.
"I came following after the scent of Naraku's poison," he explained at last.
The sound broke apart into dull, familiar cacophony.
She lowered her face, smiling in bitter amusement. "You'll be disappointed," she replied. "Naraku isn't here."
He stared down at her, still solemn. "I knew that it was you," he said simply.
She could not speak, only pressed her hand against her heart which throbbed queerly now, a new and fantastical tempo.
"I . . . see," she murmured. He knew, she thought, and so he came. The knowledge swept through her, exhilarating and strange. She felt lighter now. So weightless, she fancied, she was rising effortlessly into the air.
Yes, she thought, I see now. I understand. She felt her heart, sensed its hurried, uneven beat. She dropped her hands, her fingers skimming the nodding blooms. This is true freedom – this is what I longed for and found . . . here.
"Are you going?" he asked.
"Yes. But it's all right," she answered. She looked up at him, smiling. He met her gaze, his eyes distant, serene, but to her, curiously warm and near like the sun touching down on the horizon at dusk.
Because in the end, she thought, I was with you.
The wind blew, loosing a torrent of petals into the air. Her hair unraveled, the sleeves of her kimono fluttered out behind her. She arched back, her eyes closed. She was floating upward, light enough now for the breeze, borne aloft into the sky.
For one last moment, she took in the sky, the earth, and him with perfect clarity, blazing in the sun.
I am the wind, the free wind.
Then she flew.
Note: Translations of Ch. 374 from Kuro. Much thanks to her!