remember me and all my falling stars | @hanmina13
kana’s gift is drenched in her blood, fingernails clinging to the edges of it, tips dug in deep, causing brittle bites and harsh slaps of power kana is not necessarily always prepared to control, her abilities oftentimes leaving her bruised, bleeding, or wane. she had an easier time managing it when she’d let herself drown in the darkness, when she’d coiled in the curse of her life, swallowing down the over-sweetened taste of selfishness and brashness, how alive she’d always felt being a little bit synonymous with the devil himself, and that maliciousness had born in her a strength the ivory council had not appreciated, an absoluteness over her abilities that she couldn’t have turned off even if she’d ever wanted to. and no, she’d never wanted to.
but being soaked in that wickedness had also bred in her the capacity to lose everything she’d loved, the one thing in the whole wide world that she loved, her singular, most prized title; motherhood. it had cost her too much, it had stripped her too bare, too raw, too stained, and left her unable to look at herself in the mirror for months afterwards, much less look at anyone who properly knew her. who properly loved her. she’d shunned almost all acquaintances away, anyone who’d be so informal as to call her by her first time, for the first year or so after coming to korea, determined to recreate herself from the soles of her heels on upwards, determined to rebrand, renew, rechristen her life from it’s shattered ashes into a kindling once more.
as such, she hadn’t let anyone find her. her gifts give her the power of locating so she understands how it works better than most, warding herself or simply avoiding against any witches who had sought her out-- and she is aware there had been plenty-- keeping to the shadows, staying a step or two ahead. with a name and a reputation like the one the takeda’s had passed down to her, she knew it wouldn’t be easy, but here in korea, it was easier than back in japan would have been.
but now… now it’s time to step into the light, she supposes. now it’s time to finally open the door and meet with eyes who know her, have known her for years, aligned their souls together despite the darkness that had brimmed in kana’s, loved the heart in her even when they’d all known it had gone stiff and hard and impenetrable. she inhales deeply, nervously, as she strides slowly, purposefully through the small cafe shop, her eyes stinging and sharp, her jaw set, her wardings left in the car; she feels vulnerable, unprotected, terrified, but approaches the younger woman anyway.
“mina-chan.” it’s been years since they’ve seen each other, and kana isn’t sure if mina knows--… if she hates kana now. after what happened. the air burns hot in her lungs as she holds it captive in her chest, her knuckles whitening in anxiety.