Genre

Rating

Spoiler Level

To Be Afraid

by Eddy ::: 08.Dec.2003

Tomoe feels little these days.

The sake is hot on her tongue, and she thinks that she likes the taste of it.

When the blood hits her umbrella, it sounds like rain. Pitter patter: she thinks the sound is innocent, and hates it.

When the blood hits her hand, it is hot like the sake, but thick. The smell of it makes her fainter than she was before. And she was already faint enough from drinking.

When the sun rises, she finally sees him. His scar is still bleeding, and she thinks she knows why. It gives her strength.

Tomoe is quiet because to be quiet means that nobody will expect you to speak, and Tomoe does not trust herself to speak without giving herself away. When Tomoe speaks to the battousai, it is slowly, because to speak slowly means you have more time to think and more opportunities to bite your tongue when it is necessary.

It is very often necessary.

She knows it is dangerous to continue to keep a diary, but she almost wants him to read it.

Sometimes Tomoe thinks it is impossible that he does not know who she is.

When she asks to watch him kill, she thinks this is for his sake. Her face is long and blank and her eyes distant because she is seeing something else --

the blade enters through the throat and out the back of the head, and then it twists, suddenly, and the flesh parts before it in a gush of blood, the thick vein was punctured before but now the blood has somewhere to go and it spills like water over the sharpened edge of the katana

-- she realizes she is afraid.

When she realizes she is afraid, then she realizes that she had been angry. When she realizes she had been angry, then she realizes that hate is a feeling. And when she realizes that, then she realizes that she no longer hates him, and that is why she is afraid.