Something Of His Own
Written for the prompt 'shooting star' on story_lottery. Taiki is from the same project as Akio and Kuwabara from Children At Play.
Summer’s end was coming, and with it approached the journey. With it came also his freedom from the school, from the uneasy stares and pointed hints, from the jabs and outright accusations that he had used family influence to enter the school.
It was true, in a way. He was in the school because of his sister, but it had been his lord’s decision, not his own, and not his sister’s.
He hated his sister. She gave him red hair, tossed him into the art of ninja, far away from home and the paddy fields. And when they saw each other, in the cold months, she clung to him as though she had done nothing to cause their parting.
There was nothing to be done but wait. She would be going on the journey with him; to be perfectly accurate, she would go and he would accompany her. A year, maybe more, to endure with her, and with strangers, in unknown territories, but away from those who would persist in their self-flattering delusions that he succeeded through connections and not work.
That last night, before journeying home, he climbed the tower that served as the shelter of the local shrine. What little he had ever brought with him when he entered the school had already been packed and was on his back; any who thought to pull pranks or to sabotage his belongings for the last time would find themselves too late to do anything. Sitting on the roof, he looked down into the shadows of the town, with small spots of light that were lanterns faintly glimmering, and up into the velvet blackness with many more spots of light shining brilliantly.
He felt ill.
Was there nothing of his life that he could own? Was everything to be traced back to his sister?
And, as if in answer, something shot by, glowing brightly. Here I am, it seemed to say. Here is something that belongs to you.
Something of his own.
For the first time in a long while, Taiki smiled.
Summer’s end was coming, and with it approached the journey. With it came also his freedom from the school, from the uneasy stares and pointed hints, from the jabs and outright accusations that he had used family influence to enter the school.
It was true, in a way. He was in the school because of his sister, but it had been his lord’s decision, not his own, and not his sister’s.
He hated his sister. She gave him red hair, tossed him into the art of ninja, far away from home and the paddy fields. And when they saw each other, in the cold months, she clung to him as though she had done nothing to cause their parting.
There was nothing to be done but wait. She would be going on the journey with him; to be perfectly accurate, she would go and he would accompany her. A year, maybe more, to endure with her, and with strangers, in unknown territories, but away from those who would persist in their self-flattering delusions that he succeeded through connections and not work.
That last night, before journeying home, he climbed the tower that served as the shelter of the local shrine. What little he had ever brought with him when he entered the school had already been packed and was on his back; any who thought to pull pranks or to sabotage his belongings for the last time would find themselves too late to do anything. Sitting on the roof, he looked down into the shadows of the town, with small spots of light that were lanterns faintly glimmering, and up into the velvet blackness with many more spots of light shining brilliantly.
He felt ill.
Was there nothing of his life that he could own? Was everything to be traced back to his sister?
And, as if in answer, something shot by, glowing brightly. Here I am, it seemed to say. Here is something that belongs to you.
Something of his own.
For the first time in a long while, Taiki smiled.