Megan (jehoshabeath) wrote,

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Takeshi Story - Keiko, dew

Keiko touched the leaves, dew dripped from them and splattered on the ground.
She paused, mind spinning. Invisible thoughts groped for light. Memories denied and dreams long since forgotten. She refused them all time, but in place of their glow, she was filled with cloud, with doubt, with melancholy restlessness.

Yukio was blind. That which he most treasured among senses was dimmed. No more the colored skies. No more the white of winter, green of spring, blue of summer, or red of autumn. That language of creation was muted for him now. All he appreciated and all he gave to it was ended.

And she felt guilt for being able to perceive the beauty of life. Guilt because she did not see it as clearly or as thankfully as he had.

When he asked her to describe the weather and the feilds, she discovered that no living language among men can define it and convey it. It was too powerful to be held within the boundaries of words or syllables. That's why the poet was a master of his craft - in being able to put those wonders into word. And the tea masters who created a ceremony even more so: for they not only isolated and defined the moment - they created a moment all of their own. The ceremony seemed to breathe with its message and grow to form new questions and themes. As did life.

And now, her tea master, was blind.

What was there left?

The dew dripped down her arm, sank and hid within the weave of her sleeve.


Yukio stood at the sliding door of the room. He was still as pale skinned as the bandages over his scarred eyes.

"Is it raining or are you sprinkling water upon the roji?" he asked, his head cocked to the side.

"Oh uh it's just the dew-" Keiko managed.

"Ah," he replied.

And he smiled.

The smile was as terrifying as anything Keiko could have imagined.

"It sounded so beautiful, Keiko. The dew. Ahh the air is full of it, empregnated with moisture. I love these mornings."

Keiko's mind battled within her. How could he possibly be happy? How could he think that was beautiful when he couldn't even see it? Her mind demanded answers, but she spoke nothing. No words could express such a thing.

"Ne, Keiko?"

And it was Keiko who felt mute and blind.
Tags: stories

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