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Nov. 17th, 2008 02:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kat8chaGaping stomach wounds were a bitch. Hiyoshi glared up at Kirihara, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. Kirihara smirked and twisted his sword in Hiyoshi's guts. Hiyoshi coughed, clutched at the edges of Kirihara's sword, splitting his palms open and wetting the blade. "You're trash." Kirihara sneered. "You'll always be trash." The wide blue sky behind Kirihara became red, became burnt, Hiyoshi could smell the fire again, the sickly, sweet pork like stench of burning bodies. Kirihara's grin twisted, his face morphing into the open, saddened, bloodied and crying face of Hiyoshi's mother. "Wakashi…. Wakashi why…"
Hiyoshi jerked himself awake, his breath catching on a scream, the blankets twisted painfully along his legs. Hiyoshi's nails were digging into his stomach, leaving a circle of bloody half crescents. "…shit." Hiyoshi panted, his sweat cooling quickly causing his night clothes to stick to his back and arms. Hiyoshi carefully untwisted his sheets from his legs and slipped out of his bed. The board right beside the bed creaked slightly, and Hiyoshi's breath caught again, his eyes flickering right and left. Hiyoshi's room at Atobe's was sparsely decorated, a bed, a clothes chest, a small mirror, and a chair. The window faced south, and the crescent moon hanging in the sky provided a sickly sliver of light.
Enough to see that there was no one in the room but Hiyoshi and his nightmares.
Hiyoshi scrubbed at his face. It had been months since his family had been slaughtered, nearly half a year now, and nothing had come of it. Hiyoshi had reported to the capital, his leg splinted with a branch and a Rikkai soldier's sword, the cut on his arm still tender. Hiyoshi had reported to Atobe, a full report behind closed doors while the dust of his travel still stuck to Hiyoshi's tongue, and then an edited and rehearsed report before the assembled members of Atobe's house.
War had never been declared on Rikkai.
The attack of Hiyoshi's family had been a premeditated warning to Atobe, something along the lines of 'don't side with Seigaku', Hiyoshi believed. Atobe was uninterested with Seigaku and their holy crusade to break Rikkai's empire apart. At the moment, Rikkai was winning, so Hiyoshi doubted Atobe would switch allegiances quite yet.
Not unless Seigaku looked like it had a fighting chance. Given the fact that they had gathered the rebel troupe Fudomine to their cause and they had found a base in the former republic of Yamabuki… Hiyoshi would say Seigaku definitely had a chance. It all depended on whether their whiz-kid Echizen could pull through.
Hiyoshi tossed his night shirt onto the ground, goose bumps sprung up immediately on his skin, the room was cold. Hyotei always got cold during the winter. It was why it was called the 'Kingdom of Ice'. Still, Hiyoshi hated it. Stripping out of his pajama pants Hiyoshi walked to his clothes chest and fished out his practice clothes. He was not going to get to sleep, not after a dream like that, so he may as head to the gym and stretch.
Maybe wearing himself out would help.
Hiyoshi jerked himself awake, his breath catching on a scream, the blankets twisted painfully along his legs. Hiyoshi's nails were digging into his stomach, leaving a circle of bloody half crescents. "…shit." Hiyoshi panted, his sweat cooling quickly causing his night clothes to stick to his back and arms. Hiyoshi carefully untwisted his sheets from his legs and slipped out of his bed. The board right beside the bed creaked slightly, and Hiyoshi's breath caught again, his eyes flickering right and left. Hiyoshi's room at Atobe's was sparsely decorated, a bed, a clothes chest, a small mirror, and a chair. The window faced south, and the crescent moon hanging in the sky provided a sickly sliver of light.
Enough to see that there was no one in the room but Hiyoshi and his nightmares.
Hiyoshi scrubbed at his face. It had been months since his family had been slaughtered, nearly half a year now, and nothing had come of it. Hiyoshi had reported to the capital, his leg splinted with a branch and a Rikkai soldier's sword, the cut on his arm still tender. Hiyoshi had reported to Atobe, a full report behind closed doors while the dust of his travel still stuck to Hiyoshi's tongue, and then an edited and rehearsed report before the assembled members of Atobe's house.
War had never been declared on Rikkai.
The attack of Hiyoshi's family had been a premeditated warning to Atobe, something along the lines of 'don't side with Seigaku', Hiyoshi believed. Atobe was uninterested with Seigaku and their holy crusade to break Rikkai's empire apart. At the moment, Rikkai was winning, so Hiyoshi doubted Atobe would switch allegiances quite yet.
Not unless Seigaku looked like it had a fighting chance. Given the fact that they had gathered the rebel troupe Fudomine to their cause and they had found a base in the former republic of Yamabuki… Hiyoshi would say Seigaku definitely had a chance. It all depended on whether their whiz-kid Echizen could pull through.
Hiyoshi tossed his night shirt onto the ground, goose bumps sprung up immediately on his skin, the room was cold. Hyotei always got cold during the winter. It was why it was called the 'Kingdom of Ice'. Still, Hiyoshi hated it. Stripping out of his pajama pants Hiyoshi walked to his clothes chest and fished out his practice clothes. He was not going to get to sleep, not after a dream like that, so he may as head to the gym and stretch.
Maybe wearing himself out would help.
