My Collection Of Original Stories

Destined To Love

My friend, Kari, and I decided to go celebrate her 19th birthday a few days early by seeing some new, local music acts at the Orugoru, or "Music Box" (one of Kyoto, Japan's all-ages nightclubs). Music is her favourite thing- well, that and her boyfriend, Kyo. We were having, hands-down, the best time and after an hour or so, Kyo showed up so we all decided to go upstairs for some food and drinks. The stairwell was narrow, so I ended up having to squeeze past a stranger to get by. As I was trying to fit between this person and the wall, we bumped shoulders and he dropped a folded piece of paper. I could see black ink through the thin, yellowed paper. I decided to be courteous, so I bent down to pick it up and then everything when black.

***

"Miss? Are you awake?" a deep, yet gentle, voice spoke to me.

My eyes fluttered open. My head was pounding. I sat up straight, from where I was sitting, and stared at the man in front of me. He was breath-takingly beautiful. His hair was almost shoulder length and it was of a red hue; it curled slightly at the tips. He was wearing a long, burgundy kimono that faded to brown by the time it reached his thighs. The collar, sleeve cuffs, and the obi were all a silky black. It looked like an old Bakumatsu era outfit straight out of my high school history book.

"Why are you dressed like that?" I quizzed, squinting my eyes.

He chuckled, "That's what you're worried about? I guess I could be asking you the same question, then."

"What do you mean?" I looked down at my attire. I was dressed modernly, as one would be in 2017; hair in a messy bun, oversized ripped denim jacket with a white shirt underneath, black skinny jeans, and white Adidas Superstars.

"You look like you came straight out of a time machine. Are you even from around here?"

"I'm not even sure. If here is Kyoto, Japan, then yes."

"Hm," the man said, "so what's your name, miss?"

"Sakura Ayuzawa," I spoke, softly, "and you?"

"Katsura Tojo," he smiled.

"So, where am I?"

"Kyoto, Japan," Katsura responded, a hint of confusion in his voice.

I sighed in embarrassment, "what year is it?"

"1867," he chuckled, "how hard did you hit your head?"

Suddenly, I felt dizzy. How is it even possible to travel back through time? I didn't think it would've actually been an entire other year. I only asked for kicks and giggles because of the comments we made to each other about our clothes.

"Is everything alright, miss?" Katsura looked at me, worried.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Could I possibly offer you some tea? To calm you," he smiled.

"Please. Thank you," I smiled back.

Katsura stood up and walked out of the room. When he got up, I saw how unbelievably tall he was. It was fitting for him though. He seemed sweet and loving but also intimidating to people he maybe didn't like so much. Something about him felt familiar, however. He was a stranger, but I felt insanely attracted to him for some reason I could not fathom.

I brought my knees to my chest and began to look at my surroundings; paintings hung around the room that would be considered antiques back home. As I pulled my arms to wrap around my legs, I felt something in my hand. My eyes widened in shock.

"It's that paper," I said in confusion, "from the Orugoru."

As I unfolded the it, a dead cherry blossom fell out and landed on the blanket I was covered with. I gently slid my fingers on the surface of the dead flower, and, to my surprise, it was still quite soft. Katsura then came in with a beautiful glass tea cup, so I folded the letter back up, along with the flower, and saved it for another time.