Maple Leaves { Kazuha X Reader }

VI

Kazuha Pov

I recall the mesmerising, love In my life, she is a peace lover who is the one to silence the noise and equilibrium to my restless nature. Her smile is like the soft sound of the wind on the leaves of trees during autumn, which is so pacific and alive.

She is to me the example of power and elegance, those are the characteristics that make me want to continue my journey with a fresh start. Being with her gives me the feeling of a deep kinship to everything around me. She is like the earth of the beauty and the harmony I look for in my walks.

She is a fellow to me and brings out my inane, the source of filling my poetry and dreams with vivid emotions.

Whenever I think of her, a feeling of warmth is all over me. Like a calm harbour breeze in the stormy sea of life that is all of us.

I stood in the ruins of his clan's home, a place once filled with laughter and warmth, now silent and overrun with nature's quiet persistence. The ground was carpeted with a blanket of scarlet maple leaves. I knelt beside a familiar stone my mother used to sit by as she wrote her poetry, and carefully unfolded one of her old verses to me when I was little, the ink had faded but the emotions were still vivid. As I continued reading. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the scent of autumn and memories of a time long gone.

Closing the parchment, Kazuha felt a deep connection to his roots and a quiet resolve to honour them. He reached for his journal, feeling the urge to write—to capture the fleeting beauty of the moment and the impact Y/N had on his life. With the leaves gently falling around him, he began to write, each word a tribute not only to his heritage but to the bond he now cherished with Y/N, intertwining the past and present into a single, heartfelt poem.

To my restless soul. When I heard her laughter, a question about her laughter arose. But she looks like a soft wind blowing and her laughter is the tune in me. It is so close, so charming that there are no adjectives that can describe her laughter. By her power and elegance, I was deeply struck to imagine that I was on a pilgrimage to lead me, which I had not seen before, with a new spirit. With her, I can sense a powerful link with the nature that surrounds us, as if she were the very flesh and blood of the landscapes I search for while travelling. I miss someone who has come to love life in my journey; it is as if she is faith and music, the reason for my being. Needless to say, she is not only my friend and confidant, she is my guru, the fountain of ideas on which my poetry is based and the factor that pushes me to work towards my dreams.

With a steady hand, I dipped the brush back into the ink and began to write again.

"A leaf may drift, yet still it flies—
Through endless storms, beneath dark skies.
Though roots may bind, I walk alone—
For freedom's call is all I've known."

I placed the brush down and gazed at the words. They felt true, as though they had come from the deepest part of my soul. No matter how difficult the path ahead, I knew one thing for certain—I would follow the wind, wherever it led.

As I stared at the second poem, memories of my mother flooded my mind. I could almost feel her sitting beside me under this spot, her voice telling stories of distant lands and ancient heroes. We would sit there for hours, her arm wrapped around me, pulling me close.

Feeling the comfort of her presence as she gently stroked my hair. Her touch was always so soothing, filled with love and warmth.

In those moments, the world felt whole, I was just a boy lost in her tales, safe and secure in her embrace.

Sometimes happy memories hurt the most

a single tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it, the ache of longing to catch me off guard. I wiped it away quickly as if erasing it could lessen the pain. But the emptiness it left behind lingered, just like the memory of her touch.