Post by Karen Tōshi on Jul 29, 2014 7:07:01 GMT -7
Vigilance. The guard. The shield against the storm.
To sacrifice one's life to defend another that one care's about is a noble deed. The deed of a hero. That's what her mother had told her, her sensei, the only one she had truly respected and trusted. Karen's eyes stared into the sky, a dark shadow passing over them, almost as dark as the thoughts that plagued her mind. She couldn't protect her liege... but most importantly she couldn't protect her friend. They were one in the same, yes, but that just made it all the more pertinent that she should have been there. Demiyah almost died. Died.
Just like her parents did.
For her future, huh? Is that how they justified it again? Killing themselves just so she could become a shinobi. What kind of fucking shinobi was she that she couldn't save one of the women she cared most about in this world?
The sandstone beneath her was uncomfortable, rough, far too warm. But she didn't dare move. From her position on the roof next to the open window she could hear every shift of Demiyah's bed, every conversation the nurses had, even the tiniest shuffling of a sand mole on the street below. Several people had looked up and pointed as she lay there, murmuring and gossiping to themselves about her and the Kazekage. Had the Kazekage let them down? Was she weak? Was she just promoting her closest friends to office for her own pleasure?
No...
No.
NO.
She wanted to scream at them, to beat them within an inch of their lives until they acknowledged Demiyah's sacrifice, until they realized just how much Demiyah cared about all of them. Why couldn't people just listen to the truth? Why did they always have to assume the worst and believe the tabloids? Karen was finished crying. She had finished a long time ago in fact. There were no more tears to give and the prospect bored her. She should be watching over her friend now, making sure she was safe. Happy. Alive.
Karen winced as she heard the undeniable sound of a knife cutting into flesh. Had they began a surgery? Was one of the nurses preparing her for some kind of drug treatment? She didn't know. But she couldn't be too careful, not anymore.
Swinging through the open window with the grace of a cat, it took her only a millisecond to realize what she had to do, wrapping her arms around her friend from behind, using her hand to grasp the red-head's wrist, feeling the young woman's body shaking in pain, fear, anguish... and hate. And through that she whispered, gently, carefully as a shy woman in her night-time embrace.
"It's ok, Demiyah. It's ok. I'm here for you."
To sacrifice one's life to defend another that one care's about is a noble deed. The deed of a hero. That's what her mother had told her, her sensei, the only one she had truly respected and trusted. Karen's eyes stared into the sky, a dark shadow passing over them, almost as dark as the thoughts that plagued her mind. She couldn't protect her liege... but most importantly she couldn't protect her friend. They were one in the same, yes, but that just made it all the more pertinent that she should have been there. Demiyah almost died. Died.
Just like her parents did.
For her future, huh? Is that how they justified it again? Killing themselves just so she could become a shinobi. What kind of fucking shinobi was she that she couldn't save one of the women she cared most about in this world?
The sandstone beneath her was uncomfortable, rough, far too warm. But she didn't dare move. From her position on the roof next to the open window she could hear every shift of Demiyah's bed, every conversation the nurses had, even the tiniest shuffling of a sand mole on the street below. Several people had looked up and pointed as she lay there, murmuring and gossiping to themselves about her and the Kazekage. Had the Kazekage let them down? Was she weak? Was she just promoting her closest friends to office for her own pleasure?
No...
No.
NO.
She wanted to scream at them, to beat them within an inch of their lives until they acknowledged Demiyah's sacrifice, until they realized just how much Demiyah cared about all of them. Why couldn't people just listen to the truth? Why did they always have to assume the worst and believe the tabloids? Karen was finished crying. She had finished a long time ago in fact. There were no more tears to give and the prospect bored her. She should be watching over her friend now, making sure she was safe. Happy. Alive.
Karen winced as she heard the undeniable sound of a knife cutting into flesh. Had they began a surgery? Was one of the nurses preparing her for some kind of drug treatment? She didn't know. But she couldn't be too careful, not anymore.
Swinging through the open window with the grace of a cat, it took her only a millisecond to realize what she had to do, wrapping her arms around her friend from behind, using her hand to grasp the red-head's wrist, feeling the young woman's body shaking in pain, fear, anguish... and hate. And through that she whispered, gently, carefully as a shy woman in her night-time embrace.
"It's ok, Demiyah. It's ok. I'm here for you."
