Post by yulan on Oct 26, 2009 15:00:24 GMT -6
Northern Earth Kingdom - Lyogu
Hayase smiled warmly, endearment bubbling up inside her at the almost childish shift of expression on Kizo's face. "Of course it's not too much trouble. If it was, I wouldn't be asking."
He reminded her of Tae sometimes. As expected of men, they both had strong opinions of their own that, once formed, couldn't be shaken even by the forces of nature, yet nothing tested their resolve quite like the prospect of displeasing a woman. She'd seen it with Tae countless times over the years. She would offer her thoughts, then he would boldly reply with his own, only to hesitate and add a disclaimer as if to stave off his wife's potential wrath. Oh, men. How could they be a source of both so much frustration and endless amusement all at once?
Unbeknownst to her, Hayase's finger continued its slow, gentle strokes against Kizo's forehead as she mused over the two men in her life whom she loved the most, and when she stood up her hand was the last to rise, fingers trailing an inch across his skin. She lingered by his bedside a split second longer than necessary, then crossed over to the partition that blocked his corner from the rest of the room. Hayase paused and turned back, chewing on her lower lip.
"I won't be long. If you need anything else, call for Mei Li, the assistant on duty."
Perhaps it was because Kizo was so badly wounded, but she found herself oddly reluctant to leave him, even to fetch him something to eat. Well, was it really so strange? Considering the last time they were separated, Kizo had taken Kawara into the forest on a suicide rescue mission and returned with his life in tatters, Hayase's damnably overactive imagination kept conjuring up similarly horrible fates for Kizo should she turn her eyes away for longer than a minute. But he was a grown man, albeit a grown man who often seemed a little too fond of throwing caution to the winds; he didn't need her hovering around like a worried mother... or a worried lover, for that matter.
The time when they would have to separate for good was nearing. Best if Hayase started distancing herself early, and not just in the physical sense.
She took a step forward, then turned her head back again to etch the sight of Kizo into her memory: the weak glow of the lamp thrown against his bed, his injuries exaggerating his scruffiness, the mess of bandages she knew were hidden beneath the covers. How was she supposed to let all this go, tuck him away in her mind as merely another finished chapter of her life?
Her face briefly contracted as if in pain. Then Hayase heaved a sigh and finally left the clinic.
It was well past dinner hours and not many of Lyogu's residents ate late. Twenty minutes after setting out Hayase returned with a tray carefully balanced in her hand, a large bowl of lightly seasoned pork stew in the center, a smaller bowl of white rice beside it. Unsure whether Kizo had drifted off to sleep again, Hayase held her breath and tread lightly as she peered past the partition into his 'room'.
Hayase smiled warmly, endearment bubbling up inside her at the almost childish shift of expression on Kizo's face. "Of course it's not too much trouble. If it was, I wouldn't be asking."
He reminded her of Tae sometimes. As expected of men, they both had strong opinions of their own that, once formed, couldn't be shaken even by the forces of nature, yet nothing tested their resolve quite like the prospect of displeasing a woman. She'd seen it with Tae countless times over the years. She would offer her thoughts, then he would boldly reply with his own, only to hesitate and add a disclaimer as if to stave off his wife's potential wrath. Oh, men. How could they be a source of both so much frustration and endless amusement all at once?
Unbeknownst to her, Hayase's finger continued its slow, gentle strokes against Kizo's forehead as she mused over the two men in her life whom she loved the most, and when she stood up her hand was the last to rise, fingers trailing an inch across his skin. She lingered by his bedside a split second longer than necessary, then crossed over to the partition that blocked his corner from the rest of the room. Hayase paused and turned back, chewing on her lower lip.
"I won't be long. If you need anything else, call for Mei Li, the assistant on duty."
Perhaps it was because Kizo was so badly wounded, but she found herself oddly reluctant to leave him, even to fetch him something to eat. Well, was it really so strange? Considering the last time they were separated, Kizo had taken Kawara into the forest on a suicide rescue mission and returned with his life in tatters, Hayase's damnably overactive imagination kept conjuring up similarly horrible fates for Kizo should she turn her eyes away for longer than a minute. But he was a grown man, albeit a grown man who often seemed a little too fond of throwing caution to the winds; he didn't need her hovering around like a worried mother... or a worried lover, for that matter.
The time when they would have to separate for good was nearing. Best if Hayase started distancing herself early, and not just in the physical sense.
She took a step forward, then turned her head back again to etch the sight of Kizo into her memory: the weak glow of the lamp thrown against his bed, his injuries exaggerating his scruffiness, the mess of bandages she knew were hidden beneath the covers. How was she supposed to let all this go, tuck him away in her mind as merely another finished chapter of her life?
Her face briefly contracted as if in pain. Then Hayase heaved a sigh and finally left the clinic.
It was well past dinner hours and not many of Lyogu's residents ate late. Twenty minutes after setting out Hayase returned with a tray carefully balanced in her hand, a large bowl of lightly seasoned pork stew in the center, a smaller bowl of white rice beside it. Unsure whether Kizo had drifted off to sleep again, Hayase held her breath and tread lightly as she peered past the partition into his 'room'.