Kim
スター軍の司書
Kyoto, Planet Yamatai, Tombs of Fallen Soldiers. YE 39
The summer heat in Kyoto was staggering, or at least it would have if Michiko had not been deep beneath the Chiharu’s Temple placing flowers in front of the cool, black polished marble tombs. Each tomb had a name engraved on the stone with a small service portrait of each of the fallen Star Army members. The priestess was not clothed in her regular attire but a halter sundress covered in rich blue bellflowers. Her long dark brown hair was draped over her right shoulder but not tied back out of the way. She gently traced the name of a young Nekovalkyrja that gave her life in defense planet Yamatai during the Battle of Yamatai in YE 33.
The soldier had lived only a few years in service to her country and few people came to visit her here. Michiko thought it was lonely to dwell within these beautiful walls without a thought. Tombs were meant to be tributes to one’s accomplishments in life but death is lonely. In life this soldier might have had people that loved her but now, she was lovingly forgotten.
The Ketsurui knelt to the large basket that rested by her slippered feet and retrieved a red rose. She kissed the rose before she placed it carefully into the small vase that rested on the front of the tomb. “I see you.” She repeated the ritual at each of the memorials in the halls before she ended in front of the raised platform that Chiharu’s tomb rested.
Bright sky blue eyes stared at the elaborate portrait of Ketsurui Chiharu. She was not a mere etching like the other portraits, she was lovingly depicted in full color, smiling despite what horrors those crimson eyes had seen. Michiko had spent many nights gazing into the face of the woman she was supposed to be. Her true mother in a sense but not. She had to live with the knowledge that her birth had been a disappointment to her adopted mother, Yui, who really wanted her friend and lover back.
Yui had become a good mother to her over the years but she was a busy woman, running the military and protecting Yamatai. Michiko could not help but feel like a failure. She had begged to be allowed to join the Star Army but never actually left the planet and had retreated to the temple for lack of a better idea of what to do with herself.
She desperately wanted to be someone else. She did not want to be this disappointment to her mother and an awkward message on an answering machine to someone else. As a Ketsurui princess not actively engaged in anything but dwelling on her own failings, Michiko had the benefit of infinite free time. She felt like a little bird trapped in a gilded cage. The door was open but she was terrified to fly. Would she only disappoint her family further by failing at this next attempt at usefulness? Would she just become another name to be recorded on cold stone?
She wondered what exactly she had been doing all these years. Michiko had gone back to school and thrown herself into her studies to become a doctor. She struggled with her synesthesia until she was finally able to treat patients without injuring herself. It took her longer than a normal Yamataian doctor to get qualified because of her unique condition but she had been proud when she accomplished it. But she had not told her mother or sisters that she graduated. She had not wanted to be a burden on them by getting their hopes up for her future to only fail again.
The young Ketsurui hadn’t talked to her mother about her plans to leave Yamatai nor had she actually left any real message to Zemerias. Michiko had been hiding from her mother for weeks because she was scared to announce her plans to only crumble at the last minute. Every time she started to call Zemerias she hung up before the call connected. The Red Tsubaki was going to take her far from home and she was terrified of what her parents would say. But she knew that she had to say something. Michiko felt a chill on her neck as tears rolled down her cheeks. She sniffed and tried to wipe them away but was unsuccessful as she silently cried. Am I just meant to be your reflection with no life of my own?
The summer heat in Kyoto was staggering, or at least it would have if Michiko had not been deep beneath the Chiharu’s Temple placing flowers in front of the cool, black polished marble tombs. Each tomb had a name engraved on the stone with a small service portrait of each of the fallen Star Army members. The priestess was not clothed in her regular attire but a halter sundress covered in rich blue bellflowers. Her long dark brown hair was draped over her right shoulder but not tied back out of the way. She gently traced the name of a young Nekovalkyrja that gave her life in defense planet Yamatai during the Battle of Yamatai in YE 33.
The soldier had lived only a few years in service to her country and few people came to visit her here. Michiko thought it was lonely to dwell within these beautiful walls without a thought. Tombs were meant to be tributes to one’s accomplishments in life but death is lonely. In life this soldier might have had people that loved her but now, she was lovingly forgotten.
The Ketsurui knelt to the large basket that rested by her slippered feet and retrieved a red rose. She kissed the rose before she placed it carefully into the small vase that rested on the front of the tomb. “I see you.” She repeated the ritual at each of the memorials in the halls before she ended in front of the raised platform that Chiharu’s tomb rested.
Bright sky blue eyes stared at the elaborate portrait of Ketsurui Chiharu. She was not a mere etching like the other portraits, she was lovingly depicted in full color, smiling despite what horrors those crimson eyes had seen. Michiko had spent many nights gazing into the face of the woman she was supposed to be. Her true mother in a sense but not. She had to live with the knowledge that her birth had been a disappointment to her adopted mother, Yui, who really wanted her friend and lover back.
Yui had become a good mother to her over the years but she was a busy woman, running the military and protecting Yamatai. Michiko could not help but feel like a failure. She had begged to be allowed to join the Star Army but never actually left the planet and had retreated to the temple for lack of a better idea of what to do with herself.
She desperately wanted to be someone else. She did not want to be this disappointment to her mother and an awkward message on an answering machine to someone else. As a Ketsurui princess not actively engaged in anything but dwelling on her own failings, Michiko had the benefit of infinite free time. She felt like a little bird trapped in a gilded cage. The door was open but she was terrified to fly. Would she only disappoint her family further by failing at this next attempt at usefulness? Would she just become another name to be recorded on cold stone?
She wondered what exactly she had been doing all these years. Michiko had gone back to school and thrown herself into her studies to become a doctor. She struggled with her synesthesia until she was finally able to treat patients without injuring herself. It took her longer than a normal Yamataian doctor to get qualified because of her unique condition but she had been proud when she accomplished it. But she had not told her mother or sisters that she graduated. She had not wanted to be a burden on them by getting their hopes up for her future to only fail again.
The young Ketsurui hadn’t talked to her mother about her plans to leave Yamatai nor had she actually left any real message to Zemerias. Michiko had been hiding from her mother for weeks because she was scared to announce her plans to only crumble at the last minute. Every time she started to call Zemerias she hung up before the call connected. The Red Tsubaki was going to take her far from home and she was terrified of what her parents would say. But she knew that she had to say something. Michiko felt a chill on her neck as tears rolled down her cheeks. She sniffed and tried to wipe them away but was unsuccessful as she silently cried. Am I just meant to be your reflection with no life of my own?
