St. Ignatius Church, Tokyo, Friday Afternoon

[withoutverona]

Four years.

It had been four years since Romeo met Juliet Capulet, and here he was. Still alive, still much more well than he deserved. The girl who had been his wife was fading in his memory, and he wished some part of him didn't see that as a good thing.

He didn't often go to Mass in Japan, but if there were ever a reason for it, this anniversary would serve. The ancient words, the rhythm of it, the incense -- all of it comforted him.

On his way out, he lit two candles: one for Juliet, one for Mercutio.

He hoped somewhere, they had forgiven him.

[OOC: NFB due to distance. Open after he leaves the chapel for phone calls, the girlfriend, etc., if you're willing to deal with a Shakespearean in mourning.]

Comments

[dojima-hime.livejournal.com]

"Someday will come when someday will come, and it's no use fretting about someday today," Dōjima replied in that cheerfully practical manner of hers, but she let go of his hand long enough to spin around and bow at the church before they left the grounds completely.

She may not have been raised religiously, but like most Japanese she did still respect the dead, and some forms were to be observed.

"Today, we will go to the beach," she said, taking his arm again. "I have sparklers in my purse to use as an offering, since incense is boring, and we can get a room at an inn and drink wine until late."

[withoutverona]

"Sparklers on the beach are what they'd both want, anyhow," Romeo said, and his smile was becoming more genuine. "A brief, beautiful shower of sparks for brief, beautiful lives, forged in flame. And the wine is for the living."

[dojima-hime.livejournal.com]

"Is that your poetic soul speaking, or your thirst?" Dōjima laughed.

[withoutverona]

"My thirst inspires my poetic soul," Romeo said loftily.