“We lead our lives like water flowing down a hill, going more or less in one direction until we splash into something that forces us to find a new course.”
Miomomo knew something was amidst when she came back from the rice fields that sunset afternoon. She worked hard every day, tending to the rice, and then training by herself to become a ninja. Her parents never had enough money, and couldn’t afford to send her to the academy for proper training, so she practiced and strived to achieve her goal on her own. So when she walked through the doors, back from her daily duties, she could feel her heart drop; like a bird with a broken wing—she too felt herself trying to stay up, to fight against the pessimistic. She left her shoes by the door and went on the search to find her mother. The house had an eerie feel to the air, the quietness drowning her until she swam up to gasp for air.
“Okasan?” She called out into the seemingly empty house. Racing upstairs, she could feel her heart beat violently in her chest. The uncertainty of it all was slowly killing her, and she knew she needed to see if her mother was alive. The bedroom door flew open to reveal her mother lying there, as if she was asleep. Her long black hair was beautifully sprawled around her, and her delicate beautiful face was calm as a gentle breeze on a summer day. Miomomo could feel a tear planning to make its escape. She brought her hands up to her mouth to silence the verbal pain in her heart that was sure to come. Her mother turned her head to face her.
“Mio-Chan, what is wrong dear?” Her mother’s voice was weak, but beautiful and graceful as a swan frolicking in the water. A sense of relieve washed over her statue frame a water washes over a stone. She ran to her mother’s side and grasped her fragile, pale and cold hand.
“Forgive me Okasan; I thought…I thought something terrible had happened to you.” Her mother gave her the warmest of smiles.
“Your father has great idea on how to get money for my operation.” The voice of her mother’s slightly changed, no longer draft and weak; now full of hope.
“Otousan did; where is he?” Miomomo turned her head from side to side as if he was going to pop out of nowhere.
“He had to run an errand; he should be here very soon.” But he didn’t come very soon.
Miomomo waited outside for her father to come home. The sky grew darker, indicating nighttime was approaching. There was always something calming about the darkness that she loved. It was always misunderstood, like her. A lightning bolt flashed suddenly through the sky. It was going to rain; she could smell it. The sudden flash of light brought a loud thunder noise that roared though the air. Miomomo has never been the one for loud noises, but her mind was somewhere else. That uneasy feeling of the unknown was nagging her; and she could tell something bad was imminent. Her father was later than he usually was, and it didn’t help the feeling, only fueled it. The scent of the impending rain grew stronger, until the sky finally gave up trying to be strong—it let the first few tears graze Miomomo’s face. Then it completely broke down, crying its eyes out. She knew, the sky was weeping for her.
Her father’s silhouette was seen off in the distance. His figure was followed by two others. The confusion etched on her face, as she stood there under the comfort of the porch roof; shielding her from the poignant rain. She was still a little drenched; after all, she did sit on the steps for a few minutes while it rained. Her father approached with the two people that she could now see were men.
“Otousan!” She shouted over the pouring rain, and bowed quickly towards to him. He bowed to her and she could see it in his face, the confirmation of her fears. His face was engraved with deep wrinkles he has developed over the years from stress. Each line—each dash told a story; sad stories. His black orb of eyes stared at her; silently telling her something dreadful was going to come. “Otousan?” Her tiny voice repeated.
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The Geisha WayFanfiction
"She paints her face to hide her face. Her eyes are deep water. It is not for Geisha to want. It is not for geisha to feel. Geisha is an artist of the floating world. She dances, she sings. She entertains you, whatever you want. The rest is shadows...