Genre

Rating

Spoiler Level

Kendo no Go
In the Language of Kendo:
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters

by Akai Kitsune

61: Remember

~*~

'I remember being loved, so loved that I thought I would burst into a thousand pieces, broken apart by such love and slowly put back together by hands, warm and gentle, firm and strong, loving, so loving.'

'I remember light, caressing my skin with the warmth and beauty of life that was forever, never-ending, so full of hope and vitality, it could continue unceasing.'

'I remember dreams, the brightness of not knowing what the future might hold, not really caring, for I knew I was safe, and warm, and loved, so loved.'

'I remember the safety of that love, the security of family and gentle care, of warm eyes full of mirth and joy, of arms wrapped around me to ensure that I always felt as though nothing in the world could harm me, nothing at all.'

'I remember the world I lived in, full of adventure and magic, a sense of carelessness about me, knowing that everything was fine, everything was wonderful, and I could be a child forever without knowing the cares of reality which lay past the shadows, without knowing that they might someday show themselves to me.'

'I remember the shadows flickering in the light of my joy, my love, my life, threatening to ruin everything I cared for.'

'I remember fear, licking the bare wounds of my heart as people died around me, drawing near to leech slowly at the blood of my soul like a vengeful demon, leaving me empty, crying, wanting for what I could no longer have.'

'I remember the sound, loud and oppressive, of the shattering of dreams, watching as they fell to pieces around me, broken, but not by love, never by love.'

'I remember love, how I ached inside when it was gone, taken from me by the world I once loved, once felt joy in, once laughed in, and I remember how I once felt such love, so strong it broke me and brought me together again.'

'I remember pain, knowing that once you are broken, you can never truly return to the way you were before.'

'I remember tears.'

~*~

All memory is revisionist. All language is apocryphal. All memory is collective, the sum of all your selves. All language is learned and all the stories you tell yourself are hazarding a guess.

The antonym of memory is oblivion.

The antidote of oblivion is memory.

~*~