Mai-HiME Fan Fiction ❯ All With Good Intentions ❯ Atarashii no Hijimari, Mukashii no Omoi (Old Feelings, New Beginnings) ( Chapter 8 )

Chapter 7: Atarashii no Hijimari, Mukashii no Omoi (æ–°ã—ã„ã®å§& #8249;ã¾ã‚Š

昔 ã®æ€ã„: Old Feelings, New Beginnings)

 

 

Frigid winter air needled Shizuru's skin as she stepped from a bullet-shaped limousine and entered the equally cold foyer of her high-rise apartment building. The door to her flat opened with a resigned creak as she stepped inside, closed it and leaned back against the smooth wood. Today had not been one of her better ones, filled with seemingly endless meetings, one of the dubious perks of being a CEO. Her thoughts tumbled through her mind like rocks in a riverbed as she sat her briefcase by the doorway and slipped off her shoes in the genkan. It seemed like everyone wanted something from her at a time when she felt she had the least to give. There were times during these meetings that she longed for the simplicity of Fuuka Gakuen despite the catastrophe of the HiME Festival.

 

The burdens of her office showed clearly on her delicate skin; careworn lines had worked themselves around her mouth and underneath her eyes. Even the playful sparkle in her bronze-coloured eyes had dimmed in the passing weeks. Shizuru shed her woolen winter coat, silk scarf and leather gloves as she made her way to the place where simple respite awaited her.

 

She opened the sliding glass door to the spacious balcony and was glad that Touro had anticipated her desire for relaxation after a long, trying day. The young woman had already lit a small fire in a Venetian cast iron chiminea by her favourite chair, placed a neatly folded heavy, woolen blanket on it and had a light supper of gyudon and Gyokuro green tea. Shizuru shook her head in amusement. Sometimes Touro mothered her far too much. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, poured herself some tea and dropped into her beloved papasan. In the distance, she could see the snow covering the treetops in Maruyama Park, the powder winking like stars from the surrounding streetlights.

 

Shizuru leaned into the comfort of the fluffy papasan, tentatively sipping from her teacup as Touro entered the balcony from within. The young servant bowed and waited for her employer to address her. The brunette sat for a time, lost in thought before she spoke.

 

“Konnbanwa, Touro-san.”

 

“Konnbanwa, Fujino-sama.” Touro replied soberly.

 

“Have I any messages today?”

 

“Only a few this time, Fujino-sama.”

 

Shizuru reached out her hand to retrieve the notes, sifting through each one with a faintly hopeful glint in her eyes. The brunette gave her servant a questioning look when she did not find what she was looking for. Touro bowed before her mistress, hoping to hide her reactions about the missing message.

 

“Kuga-san has not yet called,” she answered curtly. Touro was trying very hard to suppress her outrage at what she considered to be Natsuki's blatant disrespect.

 

Shizuru regarded her long time servant in silence before standing to carelessly drop the message slips on the patio table. Touro could feel her presence moving within the dimness. She tried to bow her head even deeper, hoping that somehow her feelings would remain shut off from the one she so adored. A gentle hand softly lifted her chin to meet her mistress's eyes. She almost gasped at the tender sadness that shone there, glistening like rosewood. Fujino Shizuru was looking at her as a person.

 

"Ookini, Touro-san."

 

The tall brunette dropped her hand but continued to hold Touro's astonished gaze. “Of all people, no one knows more than I the pain of unspeakable feelings.” Once again, she touched the young girl's face, her voice filled with contrition. “I truly thank you for your heart but I cannot accept it.”

 

Touro could feel sharp pangs of the truth burning like lightning within her chest. She knew this all along and yet, the expectation did nothing to diminish the pain. She wanted to look away and hide her building tears but was held in place by the hands of her mistress.

 

“I could only offer you honesty and my appreciation for all the things that you've done," Shizuru paused, trying to gauge Touro's reaction to this revelation. “Do you hate me now?” she asked; her voice was a bare whisper, an extremely rare exchange of heart just between the two of them.

 

Touro immediately pressed her hand against the one on her face and shook her head almost fervently. Tears flowed freely at the mere suggestion. "I could never."

 

She felt her heart ache as the smile on her mistress's face widened. "Then don't hate Natsuki either." Her eyes widened briefly, first in surprise, then understanding. Touro nodded in obedience. “As you wish, ojou-sama.”

 

A sudden noise from one end of the large patio caused Shizuru's eyes to narrow almost imperceptibly. She touched her servant's shoulder and Touro took that as a sign to withdraw. She bowed to her mistress and went inside the penthouse, closing the sliding wooden door behind her.

 

When she was sure she was alone, Shizuru called out into the darkness. “Is there something you wish to speak with me about, Nakuhara-san?” she said mildly.

 

The tall security director stepped from the shadows, unsurprised as his employer's preternatural awareness of his presence. “Yes, ojou-sama. Unfortunately, the news I have is not good.”

 

Shizuru refilled her tea cup from the small kettle that was on the table beside her papasan. A mild frown crossed her face when she took a sip of the tea and found that it had gone cold.

“I am listening.”

 

Nakuhara cleared his throat nervously, something Shizuru had never known him to ever do. “It is about your father, ojou-sama. I understand that you had planned to see him as soon as you were free from the Board Meeting this evening. However, a sudden heart attack cut his time shorter than expected. He passed away an hour ago.”

 

Her face was the picture of stoicism. Nakuhara was surprised that she hadn't even flinched; as if she had already known what he was going to say. What surprised him even more was the vulnerability he heard in her voice when she finally spoke.

 

“Thank you, Kobe-san, for coming to tell me personally. My father thought very highly of you and I appreciate the respect you have given me in doing this.”

 

The security director went to Shizuru and knelt beside her chair. “You could not have known that this would happen, Shizuru,” he said softly, using her name for the first time since she was a child. “He would have understood why you were not there.”

 

Her eyes glittered in the dim glow of the torches lit on the patio. Nakuhara was startled when she stood abruptly and walked to the railing to look out over the city. He himself felt no small amount of guilt at the moment. It seemed that every time he saw her, he brought her pain like a twisted offering.

 

Her father, Fujino Nobuo, had long ago tasked him with training her to become the most deadly HiME in order to ensure her victory in the great battle. It pained him to know that he was robbing Shizuru of a happy, carefree childhood by forcing a killer's blade into her hands every time they trained. He felt saddened when he instructed her in the arts of death, teaching her how to be the best at something that a girl should never have to know.

 

Still, he had obeyed his kaichou's orders in silence and without question. In truth, he had spent more time with Shizuru than even her birth father. Yet he could not feel the pride of a father for he knew that he had helped raise her in a most unseemly manner. Though she had a strength and fortitude that most women would never have (she even rivaled some men in that regard), there was a darkness within her might never be dispelled.

 

Nakuhara was so lost in his own thoughts, that he was unaware of his mistress's penetrating gaze until she spoke.

 

“Would you be so kind as to inform the Board and make the necessary arrangements, Kobe-san? I have some tasks of my own to attend to before father's funeral.”

 

The older man stood and bowed deeply. “As you wish, kaichou-sama.” He took one last pained look at his former charge then melted back into the shadows from whence he came.

 

 

The next few days were a blur for Shizuru as the preparations for her father's funeral seemed to consume all of her waking hours like a brushfire. She took great care in selecting his formal kimono and stayed up all night with his body after the wake service until the morning of the funeral. It took every ounce of will that she could muster to keep from breaking down in tears during the wake.

 

Business associates, family acquaintances, long absent family members…all lined up to weep and grieve for the deceased Fujino Nobuo. Shizuru ground her teeth in silence as the sycophantic platitudes flowed like dirty water, poisoning the air around her. Half of the people attending barely even knew her beloved father but here they were, acting as if they loved him all the while.

 

She was thankful for the peace and quiet later as she knelt alone in the semi-darkness before her father's butsudan to pray. Unlike her stoic outward appearance, Shizuru's mind was in turmoil. Now that she was fully the kaichou of the Fujino family business, she had to visit the overseas operations to complete the formalities. In truth, this move was more political in nature than she had a taste for. But it had to be done, despite the length of time she would have to spend away from Japan and, more importantly, from Natsuki.

 

Silvery moonlight filtered in through the windows, bathing Shizuru in its ethereal glow. Through the ages, women have often felt a certain kinship with the moon; Shizuru was no exception. She felt that the moon goddess's rays were comforting her, as if the immortal knew of her silent pain.

 

Natsuki, how I wish you were here to lend me your strength, your love. There is so much more than I want to say but it is better this way. I won't hurt you again; I won't allow myself to. I want you to live your life, happy and free. Just knowing this is enough to keep me whole.

 

The sound of soft footsteps came from the gloom behind Shizuru.

 

“My apologies, Fujino-sama,” Touro announced quietly. “But the plane is ready for departure.”

 

Shizuru bowed low before the butsudan and turned to her servant. “Thank you, Touro-san. Would you be so kind as to inform the pilot that there will be a small deviation from the flight plan? There is something very important that I must attend to.”