Saemon's face remained the same; passive, calm... but his heart ached for her. It was no story, it was hers, wasn't it? She was so very private about the detail, as he was.
He could imagine the fear she'd felt being pulled away from her family, losing them for the fear and wrath of another. Shinobi lives were never based in happiness. Even those that seem normal and safe at the beginning come to disaster and misery. He watched her eyes as she told her story, then as her own fluttered when it was done. Of all the things to say and not be driven back into sadness... Mio had accepted that as just part of herself, not even the parts she hates the most; just a brick in the towering wall.
He breathed calmly but finally averted his eyes to the far wall and began to speak. "Once there was a little boy. He wasn't so young in age, but very young in mind. He lived a life as any happy family should; without grief or loss, food on the table and a loving set of parents. He even had a little brother who adored him like no other."
"But one day the clouds came. They rolled over the desert lands and blotted out the sun for the boy. He was removed from the warmth of the sun and felt the chill of loss for the first time. He had already begun learning how to fight and to become a shinobi, but until that day he didn't understand about true loss and misery. It rained on his face, washing him in red and father was gone. The clouds that had cut off the sun were made of lies, ambition and jealousy. The clouds smiled as the sun wept and laughed harder as the boy watched the loss... and the clouds wanted to turn the boy into ash, to kill his mother and brother, but they could not and so they laughed and reminded him that at any time they were numerous enough and expansive enough to take the sun away from him again, whenever they wanted to." He closed his own eyes then. He felt the tightness in his throat that proceeded tears, yet none would ever form in his eyes.
He could have stopped there, but this was a story, was it not? And the story wasn't over.
"The boy shed his skin and became a man then, vowing to always keep the sun over his brother's head. The clouds would never really leave the young man and would strangle his mother. She was lost, a dying star that was soon to flicker out. So the boy made a fake sun for his brother, kept him in it while taking all the clouds himself. He did well, grew strong enough that he did not fear the clouds return, though it could happen yet."
"And so as he grew older, his face lined and his body torn and scarred, he assumed to live life in darkness forever, accepting his fate. He did not expect to find the sun on his face once more. And he did not, but he did not miss it when presented with other things he didn't know could be soothing to his soul either. At first it was fire.. a fire he could not tame and left as fast as it came and he was left alone once more. But then came a different kind of rain. It sprouted from a beautiful cloud, different from the others, but so tired and darkened like he was. It too was removed from the sun, always having it at it's back and never in it's face, like the man. The rain was cool, soothing and washed away so much of the blood on his hands and head. He stood in it's beauty and felt an ease he had forgotten could exist..."
Saemon stopped there and he looked back at his blue eyed youth. She was so beautiful. "You can sooth away what others cannot in me, Mio. Your value is more than you know, rain goddess. Even if the sun never touches either of us again, I can fight the clouds and you can wash away the blood."
He could imagine the fear she'd felt being pulled away from her family, losing them for the fear and wrath of another. Shinobi lives were never based in happiness. Even those that seem normal and safe at the beginning come to disaster and misery. He watched her eyes as she told her story, then as her own fluttered when it was done. Of all the things to say and not be driven back into sadness... Mio had accepted that as just part of herself, not even the parts she hates the most; just a brick in the towering wall.
He breathed calmly but finally averted his eyes to the far wall and began to speak. "Once there was a little boy. He wasn't so young in age, but very young in mind. He lived a life as any happy family should; without grief or loss, food on the table and a loving set of parents. He even had a little brother who adored him like no other."
"But one day the clouds came. They rolled over the desert lands and blotted out the sun for the boy. He was removed from the warmth of the sun and felt the chill of loss for the first time. He had already begun learning how to fight and to become a shinobi, but until that day he didn't understand about true loss and misery. It rained on his face, washing him in red and father was gone. The clouds that had cut off the sun were made of lies, ambition and jealousy. The clouds smiled as the sun wept and laughed harder as the boy watched the loss... and the clouds wanted to turn the boy into ash, to kill his mother and brother, but they could not and so they laughed and reminded him that at any time they were numerous enough and expansive enough to take the sun away from him again, whenever they wanted to." He closed his own eyes then. He felt the tightness in his throat that proceeded tears, yet none would ever form in his eyes.
He could have stopped there, but this was a story, was it not? And the story wasn't over.
"The boy shed his skin and became a man then, vowing to always keep the sun over his brother's head. The clouds would never really leave the young man and would strangle his mother. She was lost, a dying star that was soon to flicker out. So the boy made a fake sun for his brother, kept him in it while taking all the clouds himself. He did well, grew strong enough that he did not fear the clouds return, though it could happen yet."
"And so as he grew older, his face lined and his body torn and scarred, he assumed to live life in darkness forever, accepting his fate. He did not expect to find the sun on his face once more. And he did not, but he did not miss it when presented with other things he didn't know could be soothing to his soul either. At first it was fire.. a fire he could not tame and left as fast as it came and he was left alone once more. But then came a different kind of rain. It sprouted from a beautiful cloud, different from the others, but so tired and darkened like he was. It too was removed from the sun, always having it at it's back and never in it's face, like the man. The rain was cool, soothing and washed away so much of the blood on his hands and head. He stood in it's beauty and felt an ease he had forgotten could exist..."
Saemon stopped there and he looked back at his blue eyed youth. She was so beautiful. "You can sooth away what others cannot in me, Mio. Your value is more than you know, rain goddess. Even if the sun never touches either of us again, I can fight the clouds and you can wash away the blood."
