Hearts Divided (Dororo)

Oranges

First-person P.O.V.

I gathered my sewing supplies and settled into my room, the vibrant orange fabric reminding me of the fruit I loved so dearly. As I started to stitch, memories of my childhood flooded back - the scent of ripe oranges in the air, the joy of plucking them fresh from the trees in our garden.

My love of oranges seemed to run in the family; my parents felt the same way. I remembered how I used to get my friends from back home to come over for my orange feasts, and how the sweet juiciness of the fruit mixed with their laughing.

There were many different kinds of trees all around our house, and they had something nice to offer. There were apple trees, fig-trees, and numerous other trees beside the oranges, guaranteeing a plentiful crop all year round.

Sometimes we had too much fruit during certain seasons and, under my parent's orders, the maids would head to town and give them to anyone they deemed interested. Today was one such day, and I could hear the maids returning from their trip as I sewed.

Their conversation drifted through the thin walls, mentioning a snapped bridge by the river. I strained to listen, curious about the news.

"I can't believe the bridge snapped in half!" The bridge snapped in half? The one by the river?

"It was a clear cut! Do you think that the thing snapped in half?"

"The thing's been there for years! Maybe it decided it had enough of people trampling all over it." I inched closer to the paper-thin wall and pressed my ear against it, cupping my hands around it in hopes of hearing better.

"Who knows, why did it have to be broken? We had to take the longer way because of that!"

"It wasn't much of an extension, don't complain too much, at least we got rid of all the extra fruits! With the exception of Y/N-sama's oranges of course." At the mention of my name, I giggled, quickly hushing myself when it became awfully quiet outside.

"Well, I heard the villagers say it's been like that since yesterday!"

As the footsteps faded into the distance, I pondered the news of the broken bridge. It seemed odd, considering we had used it recently. Perhaps it had happened after our last crossing. But the timing was still unsettling.

I put down my needlework as curiosity pulled at me like a relentless wind. I couldn't get rid of the impression that the broken bridge was related to anything deeper. I got out of my room and headed for the river, walking faster and faster.

Outside, the sun created lengthy shadows that scattered light and darkness throughout the terrain. The air was clean, with a hint of citrus and a smell of wet earth.

I was able to witness the devastation as I got closer to the bridge. The once-sturdy building was now in ruins, its wooden beams broken and shattered. I knelt to examine the broken bits, trying to figure out what could have caused this kind of damage. It wasn't the wear and tear or even the passage of time, it was something more intentional, more calculated.

I was lost in thought when I heard footsteps behind me. One of the maids came up to me, her expression a mixture of worry and curiosity. She said, softly, "Is everything all right? I understand you came to check on the bridge."

I glanced up, meeting her eyes, and said, "I don't know, it's strange. The bridge seemed just fine a couple of days ago." She nodded and wrinkled her brows in agreement.

"You think it was an accident, don't you?" I asked, feeling a little sick in my stomach. Just a few days ago, the bridge was as sturdy as a rock.

Leaving the bridge behind, my mind still whirring with unanswered questions, I made my way back home. The birds were chirping and, otherwise, the forest was eerily quiet than usual.

Upon returning home, I sought solace in the familiar comfort of my room. The scent of oranges greeted me as I entered my gaze fell upon a clean kimono laid out on the floor by the door, a small note resting delicately beside it. Curiosity piqued, I approached and picked up the note, unfolding it with gentle fingers.

The message was brief, and written in elegant script. It simply read, "Perhaps we should refrain from going near the pond."

A soft smile touched my lips as I recognized the handwriting. Setting the note aside, I placed the kimono in my wardrobe. I was beginning to grow tired as my mind wandered back to the endless possibilities that could have caused the sturdy bridge to collapse as I indulged in the familiar sweetness of oranges. Peeling my third orange I bit into it before immediately spitting it out. My face paled and my eyes widened in horror.

"I didn't wash my hands!"