SagaraSanosuke || Beneath the Sakura Trees || Prologue

"I'll always be here waiting, beneath the Sakura trees."
I could always hear those words, like a broken record inside my mind, but even now they still held no meaning to me. Who was waiting, I would constantly ask myself, but never an answer came. I sighed and released my hair, letting it fall to graze my knees, the burgandy ribbons blowing gently in the breeze from my open window. I stared at myself in the mirror, wondering where my life had gone, trying to name the woman that stared back at me. She was older, in her middle twenties, with tired, war-touched eyes that always held a bit of sadness. Their once vibrant aquamarine color had faded to a dull, almost pathetic teal. Her hair was long, pale brown and lifeless, so much the opposite of the short, flirty hair I remembered myself having. I could not bring myself to cut it, however, it remained my only reminder of how many years had actually passed. Still, the greatest difference between this woman and I lie not in the eyes or the hair, but the scars.
This woman in the mirror was scarred.
I tilted my head, letting the bangs fall from my face, the ugly mark running the length of the left side of my face showing itself in the mirror. It was pale today, barely noticeable, but that was only because it was Summer. Come winter, it would take on a deep purple color becoming visable again. I sighed, recalling how it came to be there, cutting across my eye and down my cheek, just kissing my jaw. It had been nearly five years ago, during the war on my homelands and even now I could recall the face of them man who's sword cut my skin.
It was not the only one to be found. My body, though lean and muscled, was riddled with them, jagged and deep scars that marred the once flawless skin. I hid them well, with my gold and burgandy kimono, but I could never forget their existance. Or how'd they'd come about. I turned from my mirror, unable to look at myself and the person I'd become any longer. I lopped the crimson ribbon of my katana hilt through my pants and left my little house, the sun blaring down on my as I traveled alone along the dusty roads from town. I was always tense, eyes scanning the faces of everyone with suspision, ready to slit the throat of the first person who appeared threatening. I could never relax and my muscles constantly ached, but I could not keep my mind from creating the horrible scenarios from the past seven years. People were always watching me, the children on the streets, the farmers in the fields, especially anyone I saw with a sword. It was becoming less of a common thing to weild a sword, guns having become relatively popular, so anyone I caught with one was immediatly against me. Out to get me. Out to kill me. Memories of war, bloodshed, and death haunted my dreams, become so bad that I rarely slept. I only sat in the darkness of my one-room home, clutching my knees and staring blankly into the shadows.
It was not just my sanity the war had taken from me, not just my beauty, but my memory. I could remember nothing about my life beyond 5 years ago. I was not even sure how I became so involved with the war as I was, but, since I couldn't remember, there was nothing else for me. I could not recall my name, my home, my childhood, nothing. It was gone, just out of my reach. Most days I was not reminded of my lost life, but there was always a single reminder that plagued me. It was not dreams, nor memory flashbacks, but a scar.
It lay in the middle of the right shoulder blade, quiet and pale in color, but there were two things about it that told me it had not been random like the others. One, it was too perfect. The lines were too smooth, flawless even, to have been done at random by the jagged end of the sword. And two, it was of initials.
S.S
They held no meaning to me, but a day didn't pass when I didn't how they came to be. Recently, I'd come to wrap my shoulder in bandages, to hide the taunting initials but it was too late. I knew they were there and I found myself constantly wondering about them, when I wasn't busy keeping myself sane. The sun had risen to it's highrest point by now, making the day bright and hot, the hazy lines of humidity blurring the world in front of me. I glanced up, having lost track of how long I'd been walking, suprise to see how far I'd walked. Might as well keep going now, I thought to myself, no reason to go back. I continued my walk, growing bored, when, as if a gift from the Gods, entertainment appeared in front of me.
I sighed heavily and let my fingers curl around the hilt of my sword. Five men, one little girl. It was easy to see the problem. She could be no more than six, her crimson red hair tied into a beautiful cobalt ribbon. She was screaming for help as the man closed in on her. My own eyes narrowed and my sword clicked from it's hilt, the barest hint of sandle slipping on dirt the only sound announcing my arrival. No longer than it took the girl to look up, the men were unconsciouss on the ground. She let out a cry of relief and latched herself to my leg, crying heavily.
"Hey. Stop that." I jerked my leg slightly, trying to nudge her away, but she wouldn't be moved. I rolled my eyes and bent down to her level, holding her by the shoulders as she whipped her eyes. "Stop that."
"Bu-bu-but...thos'bad men..."
"Aren't going to hurt you." I assured her, going as far as to give her a little smile. She smiled back immediatly and I stood, eyes going wide when she grabbed my hand. She smiled up at me and I cocked an eyebrow. "What?"
"You hafta come home wif me, Miss Lady!" She insisted, pulling me eagerly down the street while jabbering about her parents and her home. She was so...bubbly. "You can be Miyoko's newest friend!" She told me and I shrugged, rolling my eyes, but letting her lead me back to her home. She told me all about everything, her smile and happy demenour becoming almost contagious by the time we reached her home. I took a moment to admire it before I was eagerly yanked inside. "Mama! Papa!" She called out, stumbling as she attempting to remove her shoes and still hold my hand. I held her up, raising my eyes when a women spoke.
"There you are, Miyo, we were worried you'd gotten lost. Oh, who is this?" The woman, I assumed to be her mother, suddenly spotted me. Her hands flew to her mouth to cover her gasp as tears appeared in her eyes. She started calling for someone, a Kenshin, her husband I suppose, before fully embracing me.
"Thank the Lords, you are alive! We thought we'd never see you." She stood back and looked fondly at me, a gentle smile on her lips. "Welcome home, Saiyumi-chan."
rest in the results!
I shook my head sadly, removing her hands from my shoulders. "I'm sorry but I am not who you think. My name is not Saiyumi."
The woman seemed shocked as she backed away from me, her eyes wide and confused. "But...you look no different. You are Saiyumi."
"Please, I am sorry and I mean you no discomfort, your daughter brought me here-"
"Kaoru, what is going on?" A male voice suddenly asked and my head snapped toward him, my entire body going rigid.
"Battosai."