The Last Samurai - Waiting (PG)
Title: Waiting (12/14/03)
Author: risa
Rating: PG
Fandom: The Last Samurai (movie)
Summary: Taka waits.
The horses had left before daybreak, and this time, like all the others, she steeled herself as best she could to deal with the worst.
It did not matter that she had grown up here, around restless warriors who incessantly came and went; she simply could not grow accustomed to watching them leave and knowing that their numbers would be fewer when they returned.
She slept fitfully that night, and the next.
The third day dawned just as brightly as any other, but it was the darkest of them all in her heart. She had been assured that they would not be gone long-after all, winter was swiftly approaching.
During such a season, one could not afford to waste three days. She roused the boys with gentle calls and took her place in the fields.
But the morning passed slowly, much of the village’s vitality drained by the fact that all the capable men had left in the campaign. The remaining women and children toiled in silence, as if they were all burdened by secrets that would not pass through their lips.
She did not mind the peace; for a moment, she thought about what it would be like to crawl into that quiet forever.
It did not last.
They were back before sundown, and it was noted with some degree of relief that only a few were missing among the ranks. When her brother approached her solemnly, still covered from head to toe in heavy armor, she knew that she did not need to look to know that her husband was one of them.
She nodded automatically at his careful words, empty to her because she did not care, knowing only that he spoke of honor. As he left her with clattering footsteps, she wondered who else of them would die for that word.
It was not long afterwards that she was made to wait once more, this time for a patient, kneeling by his prone body as her pale fingers weaved shut his wounds. It took her days to purge the smell of his blood from her hands; she could not imagine how her brother could bear it.
She could not bear it! The pitiful drunkard sprawled on her tatami, in her house was her husband’s killer. He did not belong, he was a barbarian! He spoke only in pleas for more sake if he was not grunting and screaming in his sleep, and spent whole days staring numbly at the wooden ceiling. She could not bear it.
She was almost relieved when he resumed life, almost glad to see him standing and walking and learning. But she remembered that he was just another soldier, another to watch leave and wait for. Another who would sacrifice his life for a mere word. She glowered at his back as he left.
As if sensing her gaze, he turned around and smiled back.
Later, she would wonder if she had spent her whole life waiting for that moment.
Author: risa
Rating: PG
Fandom: The Last Samurai (movie)
Summary: Taka waits.
The horses had left before daybreak, and this time, like all the others, she steeled herself as best she could to deal with the worst.
It did not matter that she had grown up here, around restless warriors who incessantly came and went; she simply could not grow accustomed to watching them leave and knowing that their numbers would be fewer when they returned.
She slept fitfully that night, and the next.
The third day dawned just as brightly as any other, but it was the darkest of them all in her heart. She had been assured that they would not be gone long-after all, winter was swiftly approaching.
During such a season, one could not afford to waste three days. She roused the boys with gentle calls and took her place in the fields.
But the morning passed slowly, much of the village’s vitality drained by the fact that all the capable men had left in the campaign. The remaining women and children toiled in silence, as if they were all burdened by secrets that would not pass through their lips.
She did not mind the peace; for a moment, she thought about what it would be like to crawl into that quiet forever.
It did not last.
They were back before sundown, and it was noted with some degree of relief that only a few were missing among the ranks. When her brother approached her solemnly, still covered from head to toe in heavy armor, she knew that she did not need to look to know that her husband was one of them.
She nodded automatically at his careful words, empty to her because she did not care, knowing only that he spoke of honor. As he left her with clattering footsteps, she wondered who else of them would die for that word.
It was not long afterwards that she was made to wait once more, this time for a patient, kneeling by his prone body as her pale fingers weaved shut his wounds. It took her days to purge the smell of his blood from her hands; she could not imagine how her brother could bear it.
She could not bear it! The pitiful drunkard sprawled on her tatami, in her house was her husband’s killer. He did not belong, he was a barbarian! He spoke only in pleas for more sake if he was not grunting and screaming in his sleep, and spent whole days staring numbly at the wooden ceiling. She could not bear it.
She was almost relieved when he resumed life, almost glad to see him standing and walking and learning. But she remembered that he was just another soldier, another to watch leave and wait for. Another who would sacrifice his life for a mere word. She glowered at his back as he left.
As if sensing her gaze, he turned around and smiled back.
Later, she would wonder if she had spent her whole life waiting for that moment.