September 13, 2014
Light. It was the most enchanting light I'd ever seen. It shined through the cherry blossom trees in shades of pink and white. The wind blew and small pink petals flew all around me. I reached up my hand and felt the petals bouncing off of my palm and onto my chest. What am I doing here? Where am I? It feels like my mind is wondering all over the place, I feel so awed by this place.
The sky above me gleamed of azure blue and the clouds moved at a slow pace over the light of the sun. The sound of rushing water makes me look to my left. An almost endless pond with lotus flowers shined in the sunlight. It was right below me, I stared a my reflection as I lay on the edge of a long deck. A soft sound of wind chimes ring in my hears. I sit up, my head in the palm of my hand as it throbbed repeatedly. I look around me and see that I'm at some sort of shrine. To my right was a big open doorway with two sliding shoji doors at either side. It seems so comfy in there with all of the pillows and rugs around the large room. Papers were everywhere with bright colors all over them that mimicked the same glistening sunlight. My eyes followed the trail to a dark brown short-table in the center of the room. Dozens of paint cans sat on the floor next to the table with paint dripping off their edges.
My eye caught movement over the paint cans as I saw someone dip a thin paint brush into the color gold. The hand holding the paint brush was so delicate, it seemed like the porcelain of a doll. Long dark colored sleeves hung over the hand, I looked to the owner of the ever so fine hand. And to my surprise, I let out a small gasp at the stunning beauty in front of me.
Long, silky golden hair hung over the shoulders of a beautiful man. He was unlike anything I had ever seen. Most of the time long hair wouldn't suit a man, but he, it fit him more than perfectly. The only way to describe him would be to call him a doll, he seemed like the only person who could match such a doll-like hand. He had the delicate features of someone who looked like they hadn't seen anything but innocence. He looked so pure and composed that for a moment, I swear, it felt like I was in some sort of Heaven. "I see that you are awake," said a deep voice that almost didn't suit the man's gentle features. For the first time I look into the eyes of that beautiful man and see the sun. Almost like a trance had taken me over, I couldn't speak, only look into those golden eyes that reminded me of nothing less than the Sun itself. What's this feeling?
A gust of wind blows his hair back behind broad shoulders. Small pink little petals flow into the room. The man barely lifts a finger and the petals doge his artwork and float around him in an instant. "Who are you?" I ask in a faint whisper. Not because I wanted to, but because I could barely manage a word in his presence.
He smiles a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I am Daisuke Sentoki," he says. The way he spoke and the way he moved was so graceful. He looks a me for a moment, as if he were searching for something. "I see, you must be Ren."
I nod, still bewildered by the sight before me. He sits his paint brush down and rises. His dark indigo yukata was loosely laced around his body, exposing his chest. His hair hung low, the tip just barely reaching his waist. He stepped out onto the deck where I still sat gazing at him in awe. He bends down and grabs my jaw. My heart thumps., I could feel my body becoming paralyzed by the shock of the moment. He gives me at somewhat saddened look of despondency. "Do you know what's happened to you?"
I look at him in confusion. "What's happened to me?"
"I see," he sighs and looks away from me. He releases my jaw and stares at the infinite pond in front of us. There's something about the way he said that. What's going on? "You're dead."
I can't be dead. "What are you saying? I feel fine! I'm not dead!" I yelled and immediately regret it. He glares at me like a father scolding his son. His golden eyes penetrate right through me, almost like they can see the soul. Uneasiness washes over me. For some reason... I believe him. I mean, who would lie about something like that? And more importantly, why else would I be with someone like him? "So, what, this is Heaven?" I ask half-jokingly as I gaze at the water below. The air, I can taste the tension in it.
"Not exactly," he breathes as another gust of wind swirls around us and I see his long hair flow backwards. "This place is somewhat of an in-between, you might say. It is neither Heaven nor Hell, it simply is," I look up at him. He was serious, a straight line was on his face as he gazed ahead. "You see this water?"
I nod. "It's amazing. It looks like it goes on forever."
He smiles. "That it is, but if the dead were to touch it, you would be pulled into its depths. This is what you call the River of Souls. Those who do not have a purpose find themselves longing to endlessly flow between time. So they rest here," he says. I glance at him once more and notice that his smile has now faded. He looks back at me, his eyes showing nothing but sorrow. "You are lost, are you not?"
Lost? Am I lost? I don't know what I'm doing here and I'm not even sure how I got here in the first place. All I know is that I'm not at home anymore. And for some reason, I'm sitting here looking up at what seems to be the loneliest and most beautiful man I've ever seen. "I guess I am lost. I know that I'm dead, I just don't understand how. How can I be dead? I-I don't want to die! I don't... I don't know what to do!" I yell. My hands feel shaky. All I can do is look at him. He's so calm and I'm so scared. Am I usually like this? I don't know anymore!
He bends down and looks me in the eyes, flakes of gold look back at me. "Calm down. This is where you are meant to be," he whispers and wipes away a tear that I didn't know was running down my cheek. "You will stay by my side, lone wolf. It's alright." He pulls me closer to him, I feel the warmth of his chest as I rest my head on him.
How could that be? I'm dead and I can still feel him. This shouldn't be possible. His words are so sincere, so believable, I want nothing more than to trust in him completely. But, if I'm dead, can I even do that much? I don't know why, but I feel like I've known him for a while. Almost like I've been in his arms before, like in a dream. I feel like his comforting has helped me before. This feeling... is so familiar. The way he strokes my black hair back away from my face, the way he smells of Gardenias, and even the way he seems to know exactly what I'm going through, all of this seems like a distant memory of him.
I've just meet him, and yet I feel so cherished by him. It feels nice.
***Thanks for reading! Hope you like it! Please comment and tell me what you think, I'd really appreciate it!(:***