Midnight's Reign

Chapter 15

She stands in front of two graves. Two small wood crosses marking where the dead lie. It's been a week since Dina's death. Kyojuro and Giyu had helped her bury her friend. She insisted on digging a second one, so that Devin could have his own spot beside his sister. Even though there was no body to bury.

She stands beneath the large oak tree, the one with the tire swing. It felt right that this should be the spot of their resting place. She places a single flower on each grave, their soft petals flutter in the light breeze.

She doesn't know what lies beyond, the realm beyond the living. But she hopes that Dina and Devin have found each other.

A large hand reaches out and grasps her hand. She turns her head, smiling at the man beside her. Kyojuro smiles back at her, his presence has become her beacon of light. Whenever he's near, she knows she'll be okay. She takes a deep, calming breath and straightens her shoulders. She already feels a bit lighter.

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Asami sits on the edge of her porch with her nichirin sword in her lap. The soft cloth in her hand slides easily across the red blade as she takes her time cleaning it. It's early morning; the soft rays of pale yellow beam through the wispy clouds. It's quiet. She normally enjoys the silence, but her thoughts were loud this morning.

Her eyes run along the length of her sword, the polished steel shines with every swipe of the cloth. Her thoughts travel to that terrible day. Images of Dina with this very blade plunged into her chest flash in front of her eyes. This weapon has slain hundreds of demons and saved countless human lives, but now it feels tainted. Stained.

She scrubs harder.

She's kept her sorrow bottled up, hidden away from the waking world. Which seemed to backfire on her. She would startle awake in the middle of the night. Body sticky with sweat, heart racing and tears in her eyes. Images of her friends demise would flash in front of her eyes, oftentimes waking Kyojuro as she would writhe in the sheets, sometimes screaming herself awake. He would hold her tightly, cradling her shaking body as he comforted her. His whispers of reassurance and warm embrace would soothe her back to sleep.

She can't change what's already been done. Events of the past are etched into permanency, only to be remembered by those who are still living.

Sometimes, time feels like a villain. Many are robbed of it, many wish for more of it. But it is also a gift. It's not something you're entitled to and no matter how hard you try, you can't control it. The only thing you can do is choose how to spend the time you're given.

She sighs, her hands stop wiping. She closes her eyes as she tries to unravel the mess in her mind. It's normal that she would have thoughts of regret. Thoughts of how she could've done things differently to change the outcome, one where her friend would still be alive. But she knows better. It'll do her no good; dwelling on the past will only hinder the choices she makes for the future.

She opens her eyes and stands. Carefully sheathing her weapon, she makes her way to the gardens. Maybe meditation will help to clear her mind. She follows the dainty stone path, weaving past the pink rose bushes that were in full bloom. The wisteria trees around her swayed in the light breeze, her hair mimicking the gentle movements of the purple branches.

She abandons the path, walking onto the grass as she heads toward a calm looking area. Sinking to the ground, she gets into a meditative position.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Her eyes are closed as she concentrates. The soft rustling of the leaves around her usually bring her comfort, but this time, it's distracting.