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Disclaimer: You know the drill.... Rurouni Kenshin does not belong to me and this fic was written purely out of my imagination for entertainment reasons
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Yuriko: I had an overwhelming urge to write. Now you get to see what happens when Yuri-san gets into her writing. This is one of those fics that had no inspiring idea and came to me as I went along. I think these are my best writing times. I finished my other story, R&J Wars in one night, about fifteen pages in one shot, not bad out of 41 pages. This is an A&M fic, and i'm sort of in a dark mood after reading an oh-so-dark-and-heart-wretching GW fic so expect that sort of mood. On second thought, don't expect anything.

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Life's Revenge
by Yuriko Shinomori
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A peace of mind was all she needed, but how could she have known that? All he had to say was that he heard her, that he understood. All the pain, the late nights laying awake, afraid she'd live the rest of her live trying to get him to....
....to smile? to look at her with eyes that didn't make her want to scream at him?....
An ache rises within....
....to look at her with eyes that didn't make her want to run to him? to look at her with a peaceful face?....
The ache grows...
....to look at her with a look of yearning? to look at her with eyes that hungered for her?....
Fragile drops fall....
....to look at her the way she looks at him....
The pain is one that cannot be released.

~~~*~*~*~~~~

It wasn't supposed to happen this way.....
Love is supposed to conquer all.
Dammit.
You were supposed to tell me you loved me!

It is impossible to ignore the woman crying. She is not loud, she is in the corner of the room where few people pass, but she need not be the the sun for people to know she is there. Her beauty would stop any person in their step, only marred by the infinite sadness in her eyes, the look of suffering on her face. Yet she does not seem like onewho has been abused, or pushed around, or taken advantage of. She looks like a single soul that has never had a chance to be. She looks like one who had the world only to have it torn from her hands moments later. She is unaware of the world revolving around her. Tears will not stop for time. The world is supposed to go on turning, but I think it would stop for this woman.

He had left her without saying goodbye.....twice. twice. The first time he returned a ghost. He would wander around with barely a word, trapped in his world of never-ending guilt and self-accusations. She had tried everthing to draw out his emotions, a response, but she failed. She thought she was making progress. Gods, she had even made him smile! Slowly she saw him emerging from the dead. It was small things, a simple glance when she brought him his tea, a small gesture to emphasize a point.... She thought her heart would explode with happiness. Then once, just once, in the middle of the night, she woke up to see him in her doorway, the moonlight creating a ghost-like silhouette. There was a look in his eyes she had never seen in her life, pure emotion, unshielded. It made her whole body freeze, her eyes locked in his. She could not name exactly what she saw, but she knew she'd seen desire. An then he left....again. Without a word or hint, he had left. It was after that night, she woke up thinking it was all a dream, a smile on her face. But when they went to his room he was not there. It looked as if he had never been there, like he never existed. The second time he left her, he did not return.

Her life turned to hell. There was no light in her eyes, no skip in her step. The optimism she had held within her her whole life abandoned her. They say that time heals all wounds....you know what I say to that? Bullshit. I think that woman crying in the corner would agree with me. You know what happens when time passes? Your life is drained out of you until you are an empty husk with nothing but faded memories and tears and dreams of what should have been. It's not like she didn't try searching for him. Of course she tried to find him, but it was in desperation. She could feel the energy draining out of her with each step she took. Soaked, alone, and in the middle of nowhere, she stopped. In the middle of the road you might have seen a lone girl about nineteen suddenly drop to her knees. If you had been there that night, she might not be where she is today, but I could be wrong. But as it is, no one was there. She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the dark clouds above, letting the heavy rain fall down onto her. She spread her arms wide on impulse. She opened her mouth so that she could taste the falling drops.


~~~*~*~*~~~~

Cry for me tonight.
Cry because you were not there.
Cry because you could not hold my hand.
Cry because you could not say the words that I needed to hear.
Cry.......Cry for me.

~~~*~*~*~~~~

You must be wondering what happened. Did she ever find him? Did she go mad? Did she try to commit suicide? What happened to her? She did them all. She slashed her wrists with a small knife, watching with detachment as the blood flowed from her body to the ground beneath her. The world grew unsteady and she fell to the cold, wet earth as darkness overtook her sight. But no. She could even have this release. She woke up. But she was not on the ground outside as she should have been, a lifeless corpse, pale in her beauty and innocence. Instead she found herself in a small room, a lantern by her side. Too weak to move, she waited... You think that I'm going to say that who's house should she happen to be in but her own true love's! Well you're wrong. She was in the house some nameless stranger who has no importance in this story, but found her close to death by his farm. She left him with what money she had left and continued on.

Each step seemed to carry the weight of gravity. She did not eat, nor sleep, nor speak. It was at this point, at her very end, when she should already have died twice over that she finally found him. She had dreamt of that moment for years. Every night she imagined what she would say, what she would do when she finally faced him. But she did not face him at all. Who she faced was not the man she had loved and cherished. He was not even the shadow of the man she had known. He was a boy, with gentle blue eyes, that smiled at her when he met her in the road. He was a child with an innocence that surpassed her own. He was the son that should have been hers.

~~~*~*~*~~~~

Now I'm sure you're looking at me wondering, "Well, what happened?" I'll leave you with the idea of The Lady or the Tiger. The princess was left with the choice of sending her love to the lions to die a painful death, or into the arms of another woman, never to be hers again. You make the decision....Was this his son? Or was this all simply the dream of a young girl in love?

~*~*Owari*~*~


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