send “auld lang syne” for my characters reaction to waking up from a happy dream about your muse — only to remember that your muse is already dead.
[✾] — Everything about this moment was warm. The air of the room,freshened by a shoji left open just acrack, the sake, the company of hiscompanions. Saitou sat across from Harada, who offered to pour him anotherdrink as soon as his first was swiftly swallowed down.
“Douzo,” Saitousaid, holding the small cup out as Harada smoothly ran the clear liquid intoits shallow depths. A smile flitted across his friend’s face, and Saitou felthimself smile in response.
The sake chased alovely path of fire down Saitou’s throat as he swallowed, the warmth crashingto his stomach and floating up within, spreading comfortable heat through thepatchwork of his veins. As the warmth floated upwards, Saitou found he feltlighter. As if some terrible weight was rising from his shoulders as the finealcohol slowly filled him.
“You’re hitting ithard tonight.” Harada’s words were punctuated with a grin, and once againSaitou found himself mirroring the expression in slight. “Think you can handle more than I can?” The challenge in Harada’svoice was clear.
“There is no question,” Saitou replied smoothly, takinganother small sip.
“Oh? Well in that case- ” Harada bolted down a cup in a single swallow and flashed another grinat the smaller captain.
Perhaps it was prompted by the feeling of lightness that wasprying away Saitou’s usual barriers, but for whatever reason, he found himselfmatching cup for cup with Harada. As they each rapidly consumed round afterround, the feeling of warmth grew brighter within Saitou. The left-handedswordsman felt freer than he had in…when wasthe last time he had felt this way?
Harada laughed. And Saitou, not even knowing the reason,found himself letting out a soft chuckle.
Drink after drink was thrown back. Saitou soon felt asthough he were becoming unattached from himself on the inside, floating free ofany masks or walls. Harada threw an arm around his shoulders, leaning heavilyagainst his side, but Saitou found he didn’t mind the pressure of the largerman’s weight.
With a soft smile tugging at his lips, Saitou nodded. Hereached for one final drink.
The sake hit hisstomach, cold and hard. All of the heat and lightness of the moment suddenlyvanished. Saitou tensed as ice clenched his gut, the horrible feeling racingdown his limbs before he could draw in another breath. A heavy, frigidparalysis gripped him tight, everything around him turning dark.
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It is the shivering that wakes Saitou. An uncommon andunexplainable coldness has fallen over him, seeping into his sleep beforetearing him back into wakefulness. For a moment, confusion gropes at his brain.And then truth trickles in, even icier than the feeling clasping his skin. Itruns a slow, cold stream inside his head, cutting through his thoughts. Thewarmth of the dream, of Harada’s smile, is completely swept away from his mind.
When was the last timeI saw you? He wonders, something inside of him becoming startlingly quiet. Hecan’t remember the last time he has had a reason to smile. The days of hishappiness have gone – along with his comrades, his friends, his brothers.
Loneliness. Grief. These are the heavy feelings thatstrangle the warmth of every new moment that tries to bring some light into hislife now.
Did you diehonourably? He wonders, a thought attempting to soothe what cannot heal. Hewasn’t there when Harada died. Saitou received the news some time afterward,and what he feels now – that heavy, knife-sharp coldness – was what he feltthen.
The fading memory of the dream returns to him briefly,washing across him in small drifts. It has the taste of a memory – or at least,it should have been a memory. I should have let myself be free with youmore. There should have been more smiles, more laughter. He should haveexpressed his warmth and care more for his friend. But now it is far too late.
All there is now is regret.
