prodigy by aeria-liko

the beginning

Disclaimer: I got the climax of this story from an amazing book called legends of the fall, and hopefully you guys out there wont get the book and ruin this whole point of this story I'm creating. Just read without touching the other book, and tell me what you think of the choice. I don't own legends of the fall and inuyasha or any of their characters, but I will change character personalities as I see fit for the reader's entertainment.

It was the season of the cherry blossom, their soft petals dancing with the whispering wind of the earth. The scent of a beginning rides with the air, a scent of earth, of a new birth, deeply like that of rich soil or the fertility of corn.

The sun's rays warm the backs of two figures facing one another under the cherry tree. At their feet is a stone marker, soil invading the crevices of the engraved name and yet the age of the marker being that of very resent. A small mound of soil is before the marker, springs of grass struggling through the earth.

The two people, as we observe them, are young in body, but quite aged in mind, their hearts almost dead. Dead, quite close, but one thing keeps these two alive, keeps them breathing this new air. We follow their line of sight, being that of the marker, their eyes reflecting memories as if the tombstone itself is the beholder or creator of the past.

We, observers of these two young people, are curious as to the mood and the creation of these memories that cloud their eyes in sadness, heartache, tragedy. The woman looks downward in peace, her bright green eyes reflecting a pain, but understanding as well, as if she knew that these memories took place for a reason. A hint of the death of revenge breathes over the face of the man, as if a blanket of silk that has wrinkled and smoothed itself out. He is the one we are most interested in, for this face is void of emotion, and yet within an animal sleeps, perhaps for the rest of his life. The memories initiated by the marker tells the life of this animal, the man being its puppet, but now, peace, an utter satisfaction.

We step closer to this hauntingly handsome man, his amber eyes deep as the ocean, bottomless almost to the point where we feel like we could drown. His persona screams self control, but we know, oh do we know that is only a mask. We wonder- what has happened to this man- what has made this man calm the beast within?

We, the listeners the observers of these two people, feel the urge to look into these two pasts, their fates entwined with the other. Perhaps we shall learn something from these two; perhaps we could experience this peace after we know the memories.

The beginning of this story, is the end.

Today is May 10, 1945.

This story begins four years earlier.