Droplets, ficlet 3
Katsura x Kenshin, fire
The moment the boy had stepped out onto the training field, he’d felt the wheels of destiny begin to turn.
It was the colour of his hair that had done it, he thought later.
The colour of flame.
He’d embraced the philosophy of his teacher whole heartedly.
Fire, like the madness he was attempting to harness, would be use to burn down the old, corrupt and overgrown garden that was the shogunate, cleansing Japan.
The moment he’d seen that hair, he’d known it for the sign it was, and that impression was only confirmed by the boys performance on the field.
This young man, this Himura Kenshin, could be that cleansing fire. The fire that would clear away the mulch of the old era to make way for the new.
It was only when he looked into blank, colourless eyes, slowly edging into amber, that he realised his mistake - for in his fervour, he’d forgotten one crucial fact.
In the end, a fire inevitably consumes itself.
The moment the boy had stepped out onto the training field, he’d felt the wheels of destiny begin to turn.
It was the colour of his hair that had done it, he thought later.
The colour of flame.
He’d embraced the philosophy of his teacher whole heartedly.
Fire, like the madness he was attempting to harness, would be use to burn down the old, corrupt and overgrown garden that was the shogunate, cleansing Japan.
The moment he’d seen that hair, he’d known it for the sign it was, and that impression was only confirmed by the boys performance on the field.
This young man, this Himura Kenshin, could be that cleansing fire. The fire that would clear away the mulch of the old era to make way for the new.
It was only when he looked into blank, colourless eyes, slowly edging into amber, that he realised his mistake - for in his fervour, he’d forgotten one crucial fact.
In the end, a fire inevitably consumes itself.