Title: The Grieving Wind
Summary: Kyuzo is training the night before the first battle and suddenly meets Kirara, who talks to him about death, killing and life, leading to some stratling admittances.
POV: Third person, alternating
Comments: I might be dancing on a thin line here, seeing as I don't actually remember if, in canon, something actually happened the night before the big war when did the Katsushiro sword thing happen?. I haven't watched the series in some time. If something did happen that night and there would have been no room for this to happen, please keep in mind that it's only a fanfic and let bygones be bygones. "
And don't flame me if you don't like the pairing, because i really do.
The full moon beamed it's light on the earth and an air of restlessness clouded the atmosphere of Kanna village. Villagers turned restlessly in their sleep and the wind blew harder than usual as if in accordance with the people's mood, as inside, the children whimpered in their sleep and the farmers prayed for safekeeping.
This was the night before the war with the Nobuseri and everyone was afraid…
Yet in a rather strange twist of fate, the night sky was beautiful. Stars flashed, unhidden, brilliant in their own, forming pictures of dancing horses and long forgotten gods and goddesses…
But he didn't really notice. In fact, he didn't really care. Stargazing? It had been years since he chose to waste any amount of time on something so useless.
Kyuzo, overcome by the restlessness that plagues most men before the time of war, was practicing his swordplay on a cliff, located right outside the village boundaries, where one could get a perfect view of both the sky and the landscape in their perfect glory.
But again, it was not like he cared how pretty the place was – as long as he was not disturbed.
He jumped and lunged at the neck of an invisible opponent, piercing it. He then turned and parried a blow from another fictional adversary, counterattacking with a slash to the enemy's non-existent stomach. He turned again and stabbed another non-opponent, with both swords this time…
After a few more minutes of this, he reverted back to his normal stance. He looked up at the spot he was training, disregarding the view. Had he been fighting for real, there would have been a bloody mess of corpses rather than blades of grass in front of him. But, of course, there wasn't, so he instead took satisfaction in imagining.
Suddenly, interrupting his line of thought came the sound of rustling leaves from a bush, some feet behind him. Quick as light, Kyuzo reacted. He jumped backwards and spun around, drawing his sword at the same time so that the very tip of the blade was merely inches away from the face of the assailant of his privacy.
She had no choice. The one watching him brushed a branch away to completely reveal her face to him.
He recognized the person. His eyes widened for a flicker of a second.
Kirara stood there, as calm and still as stagnant water. Amazing, considering the fact that if Kyuzo had swung only a few inches further, she'd be deprived of a nose.
"I'm sorry," she said, "did I disturb you?"
He threw aside the question and answered with one of his own. "What are you doing here?"
"I couldn't sleep. I don't think you know, but this cliff is a popular star-gazing spot for my people, so I came here thinking I could be alone…" Her voice trailed off.
Finally he lowered his sword. She gave a small smile. "Do not worry yourself, Kyuzo-sama. I won't bother you. I'll just be sitting over there…" and she walked past him, heading towards some rocks positioned at the very edge of the cliff, which indeed looked like they were arranged for sitting.
The samurai watched her sit down, and, after a moment, drew both his swords and went back to his training…
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Who knows how much time had passed when Kyuzo finally sighed and slid his swords back into their sheaths. He had trained enough for one night, and he couldn't exhaust himself any further without jeopardizing his state in the battle the next day.
He was just about to leave when he suddenly remembered there was another presence on the cliff. Kirara. He turned and glanced at her. She seemed to be lost and in extremely deep in thought.
True to her word, she had not bothered him the whole time. Not a word had escaped her lips, not a whisper, not a sigh, not even her exhale seemed to sound. In fact, had he not seen the subtle rise and fall of her shoulders in breath, he would have sworn that she was dead.
He couldn't really leave with her still here, could he? What if some specie of creature snuck up on her? Or even worse, a Nobuseri? What would that irritating, overblown brown-haired tick of a samurai think of him then? It would be an unforgivable mistake.
So after a quick moment's consideration, he walked up to her.
"How much longer do you intend on remaining here?" he whispered.
"I really don't know," she replied. If she had been startled at any level at all, she did not show it. "Until I start to feel sleepy I suppose…"
He stared at her, an action which usually gives the receiver a considerable feeling of uneasiness, and then, in a move that took her entirely by surprise, sat down on a rock beside her and stared out into the view.
"Why are you staying?" she asked, puzzled.
He didn't reply but continued to stare absentmindedly into the distance.
Kirara raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps it's because you see it as your duty to defend a poor defenseless woman?" she said in a rather mocking tone. "Well I'll have you know that I am perfectly capable of caring for myself and I---"
The samurai cut in. "You hired me to protect the village. I do not wish to prove myself irresponsible."
And the conversation turned to silence, as both chose to forget each other's presences and ponder…
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"Why do you kill?"
Kyuzo looked at her, her words striking a chord in him. Funny. No one had ever asked him that.
She went on. "Or, better yet, how can you kill? You see I've been thinking about this, and I really can't understand. Samurai and Nobuseri, both can slash each other with no remorse. Don't you ever feel any guilt or regret?"
Kirara glanced at him this time, anticipating a response. Instead he looked away, as if by avoiding her gaze, he could avoid the question.
"Then again," she went on, "if you're a soldier of fortune, I suppose you really don't have room for anything so heavy as regret…"
The quiet sank in for a while. Then when she least expected it, the quiet was broken. This time by the samurai.
"…We kill because we know others will mourn…"
Kirara perked up and turned to him. "What?"
He elaborated. "Some samurai kill for the thrill of it. Other do for the benefits by which the profession reaps. However, there is a saying that the Samurai kill because of a need to feel needed and to feel loved. A Samurai will leave home, expecting someone to sorrow in their absence. It is the paradox of leaving the one you love to feel loved. A cruel play of mortal nature. We are aware that our enemies are likewise, that our enemies are people as well, with people who love them who will be left behind."
Kirara sat there, shocked. She had never heard so many words come out of Kyuzo's mouth in one go.
The wind blew, colder now than before, but he did not notice and went on:
"When we samurais kill, we keep in mind that when this man's soul goes to the afterlife, he will not be all sorrowful, for there will be people left on earth to cry for him. That's how it's done, you see: you look into the eyes of one about to die by your hands and see everyone dear to him – his wife, children friends – all who will cry for him when he's gone. It is then you can kill with no remorse. Because you know he'll probably be happier in the afterlife, knowing he was appreciated."
Kirara was struck speechless. She had no idea someone like Kyuzo could take it unto himself to share these kinds of things.
"It is only in death," he whispered, "that you truly realize how loved you really are…"
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"Kyuzo?" Kirara said after some time.
He turned to her in response, his usual quiet self again.
"If someone were to kill you, who would they see in your eyes?"
As if he knew this question was coming, he instantly answered, "No one."
"No one…? Katsushiro, Gorobei, Heihachi, Kikuchiyo…even Kambei and Shichiroji…they all have people who are dear to them, and you have no one?"
"I have no one."
"But doesn't that make you miserable?"
He didn't reply.
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"So no one will miss you when you're gone?"
Kyuzo was growing rather irritated at this. "No. I'm not one to be missed…"
"But the moon."
Kyuzo gaped at her and brushed away the temptation to just walk away from the conversation altogether. He stared at her instead with his eyes, cold and calculating.
"Yes…" she went on. She was smiling. "The moon…it would mourn your loss. It would certainly miss watching you practice your swordplay on nights like this."
The samurai gave no utterance of agreement. But the samurai went on listening….
"And… the steel that makes your swords – they would sadden at the death of their wielder."
She turned to him.
"When you perish, the heavens would weep for another samurai has perished and the earth will cry for the loss of a great warrior."
"And I'd like to tell you…" the last words came out after a moment's hesitation, "…that I really would mourn for you as well …" and her voice trailed off, the wind echoing her last words…
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She suddenly stood up and brushed herself.
"Well," she said, "I think perhaps I'll be able to go sleep now…"
Kirara looked at her companion who didn't even glance at her but went on staring at the horizon.
"I suggest you go to sleep as well. You and the others have a big day ahead…"
Out of respect, she bowed, then turned and walked again into the woods, back towards the village.
It must have been about three minutes into her walk when she heard the sudden rustling.
Her body tensed in automatic reaction. Could it be nobuseri? No. It was still much too early for their attack? An animal? But they had all been scared off by the constructions in the forest?
There was something behind her. Following her, but what?
As if in answer, a hand suddenly clamped down on her shoulder and spun her around. Kirara was never the type to scream when afraid, so she gasped instead, and did not relax until the familiar face of the samurai in front of her became visible in the dim moonlight.
"It's only you," she said, the fact that she had just been scared obvious on her voice.
"…Why?" he muttered quietly.
This time she was purely puzzled by what he just said. She furrowed her brows. "Excuse me?"
His expression was impossible to read as he spoke. "Why would you mourn for me?"
Alarmed, she tensed again. She didn't expect him to ask such a thing. He just wasn't the type. But his grip was steel, and she could see it clearly in his eyes --- he wanted an answer. She was rather unwilling to oblige…
But if it was to be said, it might as well be said now…
"Because..."
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There was a sudden gust of wind. It was unearthly strong.
The trees bent and leaves flew in every direction as the breeze brought howls through the forest that echoed inhumanly and loudly.
In the village, torches flickered wildly and sleeping villagers impulsively drew their blankets tighter around themselves, their dreams disturbed.
In the lowlands, older animals shielded their vulnerable young ones against the unforgiving draft.
In the forest, Kirara closed her eyes and braced herself against the Samurai Kyuzo, hair sweeping and all, who held her shoulder in one hand and head in the other and hugged her body tightly against his.
The unfounded storm went on for countless seconds, until with a small cry, it died down to a gentle breeze, sweeping through everything underneath the moonlight like a loving mother calming her crying children after a good scolding.
In the village, the flames relaxed and the people in their sleep unwittingly sighed in relief.
In the lowlands, the animals nuzzled against their children, glad that the onslaught was over.
In the forest, Kirara opened her eyes.
"That was unnerving," she said louder than she intended.
"Hm." He said in reply.
Kirara suddenly realized in what position they were in and gave a very deep blush. She stepped back quickly. "I'm sorry!" she gasped, "I didn't mean that! I mean…um…just…I'm sorry!" And she bowed.
He didn't say sorry in return. He didn't comment on what just happened. With overt nonchalance and with his typical quiet tone, he merely said, "You should be getting back now."
Kirara looked at him for a long while. Did he forget that she was answering? Was she to continue? She opened her mouth in false start several times, before finally resigning herself to a simple smile, another bow, and the words, "Good night, Kyuzo. May fortune favor you in the morrow."
He nodded in reply.
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He watched her go.
Kyuzo stood there for several moments, looking at the girl's figure disappearing deeper into the woods and towards the village, before suddenly noticing something strange. He lifted his hand and looking closer at the black garment that covered his palm, he saw that he had some of the Water Maiden's hair in his hand. He was amused. He must have held her too securely. Then again, are samurai not always overprotective?
Then, after a moment's consideration, he clenched his fist and brought it to his face, getting a deep whiff of whatever smell trailed from between the cracks of his fingers.
Lavender. It smelled like lavender. And of something else…something…
Life. It smelled of sweet, adoring life.
"The moon would mourn…the steel would sadden…the heavens would weep…the earth would cry…"
He slowly opened his hand and the threads of auburn flew from his hand, mingling with the wind for a few moments before being blown completely away from his sight.
He closed his eyes.
"Why would you mourn for me?"
"Because…"
For the first time in several months, Kyuzo actually smiled to himself. He began walking.
There were some things that were better left unanswered.
Mush and fluff! 0.0. But I like Kirara and Kyuzo because thei dynamic characters and because they compliment each other unwittingly.
And yes I know the logic about not regretting killing someone because someone wil mourn is all screwed, but it was an interesting thought all the same. Don't shoot me for it, please.
I hoped you liked it!