Words Were Words Till Proven

The old man paused, but he didn't look up. He continued to shift his fingers between the pages of his booklet. The clear sound of rustling pages floated throughout the entire room. The birds outside didn't stop chirping, and the disciples outside didn't stop sweeping. No words were spoken, but Daiyu understood.

It didn't change.

Seeing this, Daiyu didn't say another word and lowered her head.

Words were always empty until you give them meaning.

Words were words until proven.

Shouldn't she know that the most?

A boiled cup of tea would eventually turn cold. Why rush to get the same result? Daiyu looked back at the ground. Her feet seemed so small. Could it even take her to the places she still wished to go?

Her thin fingers reached out to grab the cleaning cloth in front of her, her brown eyes were strangely calm.

There was no sign of frustration.

No anger nor sadness.

Too calm.

The elder frowned, his eyes trying to penetrate into Daiyu's thoughts. He eyed the child carefully before he shifted his attention back to his booklet, his emotions foreign.

Concentrating on her master's tea set, Daiyu's right hand mistakenly came too close to the teapot, and whole earthenware slid off the table. As she tried to grab it, it slipped out of her hand. Daiyu frowned and aimed to catch it again, her left hand faster than her right. However, Daiyu miscalculated the distance, and her hand came knocking onto the surface of the pot. The force of her hand caused the whole pot to shatter. The hot liquid came splashing out onto Daiyu's hands. The chatter of porcelain fragmenting on the floor seemed to reverberate within her ears.

Failure.

Even as her fingers became bright red and blistered, Daiyu only stared at her hands blankly. Not a tear came from her deep eyes, and not a sob sounded from her throat. From her heart, she felt something oddly wrong.

It hurts.

But it wasn't enough.

Something was missing.

What was it?

Daiyu stooped down to pick up the broken pieces, her fingers were sliced, and the skin split from the sharp shards. Droplets of blood dripped on the wooden floorboards as she worked. The old man furrowed his eyebrows. Daiyu was one of his beloved disciples. Although there was a disagreement between them, he didn't think any less of her. Seeing her emotionlessly picking up the pieces and neglecting her fingers, he felt something was wrong with her.

Was she torturing herself due to guilt? He sighed. This child was helpless.

"Leave," A soft command came in front of her.

Daiyu looked up at her master. His expression was peculiar. Pursuing her lips, she began to leave the room. All she wanted to say was already said. All that was left was her master's answer, which he did not give.

Cupping her hands respectfully to him, she began to back out of the room. She strode out calmly, her expression blank.

The untreated blisters on her hand appeared to rage painfully, but Daiyu didn't pay it any attention. As her feet came to a stop, her eyes abruptly centered on a pale pink blossom in front of her. A memory barged into her mind.

**********

"Senior sister, this flower reminds me of you the most."

Two children stood side by side, their hands entwined within a circle of trees filled with pink blossoms. The wind surged peacefully, carrying loose petals along with it, and they settled lightly upon the head of the children. A bright smile lit up both their faces.

"Does it? How?"

"It's beautiful, just like you."

How odd that simple words could be interpreted so differently just by the order it was placed. Why not say that she was as beautiful as the flower? But instead, the words he said were that the flower was beautiful like her. The young girl blushed while the boy continued to stare attentively at the blossoms.

**********

The words of the past floated into her head. Nonetheless, all the emotions that once came with them had long been gone. The feelings they used to stir up was also gone with time. While the memory was clear, Daiyu didn't seem to see it clearly. Her vision was blurry like a fog had covered her eyes with its hands.

Misty.

Unclear.

Daiyu swayed her head.

Who was it?

Why did the flower look so familiar?

Who were the two children?

Her memories were so fuzzy, so vague. She took a step away from the tree. Turning away from the direction of the other disciples, she looked to the left. She took a step toward the forest of lush green bamboo in front of her vision, her presence melting with the nature around her.

After she left, the wind seemed to dance with the abandoned blossom, picking up speed and swirling around the entire tree carrying the loose petals with it. Soon there was nothing left; only a bare branch remained where the flower once stood.

Gone.