Of Love, Life, and Magic

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

A woman finds her life again.

Of Life, Love, and Magic

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Of all the rotten days.

 

Of all the rotten days for my search for a home, of all the days for my tattoos to lead me wrong, to lead me here, to the home of notorious and great ninjas in all of Iga, the Hazari’s, today had to be the day. The day officially announcing the week of my accident, the one that lost me my memory and my life. I couldn’t even tell what day physically. Just that it was this week.

Two years later, and you still can’t figure out who did it or who you are, you pathetic waste, the small, cynical voice in my mind whispered.

Shut up. I shoved the voice to the back of my mind, summoning my spirit animal, the dragon on my chest.

For a moment, only his heat was there, warming my heart. “What is wrong, nee-san?” He whispered.

“Are we sure this is the place?”

“Almost completely certain. There’s a sacred ring on the ground.” A glowing ring appeared around the land that was owned by them. “The same ring that lead us here.”

I sighed. “Of course,” I mumbled under my breath.

Suddenly, all my weapons bristled under my skin, prepared to move into reality should I need them. I knew I was being watched as my eyes trailed the heavy bamboo doors, and the family crest over the walls on clean, expensive silk fabric.

He stepped up beside me, wearing a bright orange robe with a dark yellow obi and brown under robe. He had a sword on his side, but what man didn’t, and a thick brown kimono-jacket. Definitely ninja. Definitely trying not to let it show.

“They say it took over twenty men just to carve the door. And one exquisite woman,” he said.

I shrugged. “I don’t see how. A woman couldn’t possibly know the craft as well as a man. The cuts would be much thinner and more gracefully placed.”

His eyebrow came up. “He didn’t expect you to know anything about it,” Nazra whispered.

“I know.”

“She didn’t actually carve the door. But she inspired the artwork. You’d have to walk all the way around and capture it in bits, but it’s the silhouette of the woman the owner loved. She supposedly died in a fire.” He shrugged. “No one really believes that though. Especially not the owner. Her eyes are carved into the door so he could remember how she looked. The color of the wood was specifically made this way for him to remember her eyes.”

“Do you know the people who live here?” I asked.

“Hai,” he confirmed. “My brother, Koneko, and I live here.”

I bowed politely. “I am Misure. A solitary konuichi,” I introduced.

“So forthcoming. That’s not really a good quality to have being a ninja, especially not such a beautiful konuichi like yourself,” he said, bowing in return. “I suppose if you know you can introduce yourself to me, you know I am also a ninja.”

I nodded. “That seems the only assumption.”

He grinned. “Koneko will like you. Come inside,” he said. “I am Jurichi.”

I bowed again. “Nice to meet you.”

“And to you,” he replied. “Koneko won’t appreciate the fact that you’re a solitary. He thinks that all solitaries are utter fools that should all be lined up and assassinated. But I’m sure he won’t be so rude as to make an attempt on your life without making certain you have no use.”

I cocked a brow. “I would appreciate that, I think,” I answered.

He laughed open-heartedly. “It isn’t a nasty thing to say,” he assured me. “I only meant to say that he’ll probably try to put you to the test and see if you’re worth keeping around.”

“Jurichi.”

The man stopped, kneeling to the hallway. “Nii-sama.”

The one he seemed to be identifying as Koneko was a tall, thin man with slightly defined muscles and long dark hair, down to his hips up in his pony-tail. The hair was silky, tossed over one shoulder, and was nearly the same shade as his black kimono top. His kimono bottom went to his mid-calf, and he didn’t seem particularly appreciative that a stranger was in his home.

“Who is this?” He snapped, nodding toward me and locking in on my face with piercing dark eyes.

Nazra snarled. I simply stifled him and kept my eyes down. “A konuichi I found outside the gates. Only gave me the first name Misure,” Jurichi answered subserviently.

I bowed when my name was spoken. “Pleasure to meet you,” I said.

He nodded. “She’s okay. Looks kind of familiar actually,” he said, leaning closer.

“I would tell you if we met, but I am under an unfortunate set of circumstances that makes it nearly impossible to tell.” I didn’t want to explain any more than that, but knowing the way of a ninja, he would ask more.


Submitted: December 05, 2013

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