Tamao knows this detachedly, with a strange emptiness where her heart usually pounds. Anna has come home (Izumo; her home, never Anna's, but the itako usurps a place that might have been hers all the same) for the winter holiday, and will not be budged to leave, probably, until Yoh has given up.
---
She sees him bruised and battered sometimes, thrown against the wall like a discarded doll. These things are not uncommon when Anna is home.
She tries, a little, to alleviate it. Tugging timidly at Master Yohmei's sleeve, a quiet whisper escaping her throat before she can hastily pull it back.
The Master only laughs. To him there needs be only a trick of the shadows, and little Tamao will jump and squeak. To him, Tamao is squeaking at shadows again -- and there is nothing to fear in shadows.
He smiles and pats her head and says the words that deepens her fears, her thoughts, her nightmares.
"Anna loves Yoh."
No. She wants to say. Anna hates Yoh. There is no
( ... )
What She Lovesmaligned_roseFebruary 19 2005, 10:50:30 UTC
She loves the seeing of him, the knowledge that he is there, irredeemable, unchangeable, eternal. She loves his smiles, and the fact that they will not be kind. She has seen too many of them to expect kindness from him.
They reflect back to her the bitterness of truths she will not swallow -- but for him, gladly.
She is mortal, and will age along with him, but he will go on when he dies, while she remains in a soupy nothingness.
She does not know that to him, she is a kind of penance, a reminder of all his failures in the life he led in the previous world. She does not know that each moment he spends beside her filthy-tainted-human-mortal body is agony, for all that he smiles.
She does not know, because he does not want her to.
He's lost, but still strong.
[If Hao knew about fangirls and was summoned to our world. Drabble.]
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---
Anna has come home.
Tamao knows this detachedly, with a strange emptiness where her heart usually pounds. Anna has come home (Izumo; her home, never Anna's, but the itako usurps a place that might have been hers all the same) for the winter holiday, and will not be budged to leave, probably, until Yoh has given up.
---
She sees him bruised and battered sometimes, thrown against the wall like a discarded doll. These things are not uncommon when Anna is home.
She tries, a little, to alleviate it. Tugging timidly at Master Yohmei's sleeve, a quiet whisper escaping her throat before she can hastily pull it back.
The Master only laughs. To him there needs be only a trick of the shadows, and little Tamao will jump and squeak. To him, Tamao is squeaking at shadows again -- and there is nothing to fear in shadows.
He smiles and pats her head and says the words that deepens her fears, her thoughts, her nightmares.
"Anna loves Yoh."
No. She wants to say. Anna hates Yoh. There is no ( ... )
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They reflect back to her the bitterness of truths she will not swallow -- but for him, gladly.
She is mortal, and will age along with him, but he will go on when he dies, while she remains in a soupy nothingness.
She does not know that to him, she is a kind of penance, a reminder of all his failures in the life he led in the previous world. She does not know that each moment he spends beside her filthy-tainted-human-mortal body is agony, for all that he smiles.
She does not know, because he does not want her to.
He's lost, but still strong.
[If Hao knew about fangirls and was summoned to our world. Drabble.]
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