Weary No Matter the Amount of Rest

“I did not sign up to travel to our parent’s listening to your endless badgering like I’m a bee hive,” Kaoru fumes at the airplane window overlooking an endless sea. They had been in the air for a couple hours flying over the Yellow Sea south bound from Japan.

The din of muttering passengers wasn’t loud enough for her to focus on some random family discussion instead of the endless chattering of her sister, Masae. She sat listless in the seat besides Kaoru trying to hold the claustrophobia at bay with any kind of distraction.

“My, oh my.” Masae teases tossing her hair for ridiculous drama’s sake, “you can’t stand up for anything can you?”

“I hated every moment growing up with you,” Kaoru spits out spitefully.

With a big grin hoping she found a button to press till it broke, “Like you ever grew up.”

A thunderous rumble penetrated the aluminum walls and caused everyone on the plane to give pause, but neither of the sisters noticed at that moment, instead focusing on where they could twist a verbal knife.

“Coming from a girl who’s dating experience consists of bus passengers,” she menaces, “I don’t think your much of an example.”

Outside the window as the two oblivious sisters start tearing into each other’s short comings a military fighter banks towards the plane to release a missile towards the airliner then lifts out of the path.

As screams of panic start leaping from the passengers, Masae can only focus on the terrible relationship the two sisters shared. The two were burning oil and boiling water, “says my sister who couldn’t get digits from an Otaku. Your legs will be together longer than….”

…

..

.

Dasha snaps awake holding back a scream as she remembers the momentary flame and shrapnel that quickly ended her life. Breathing in exacerbation, “I wish I would stop remembering those last moments with Masae.”

Slowly turning to leave her bed sheets with a sheen of sweat from another night of constant nightmares she dons her slippers to move through the elegant bedroom. Dasha was the Countess of Marshall County, and the home she claimed was as reserved as her appearance. Long light brown hair hung to the middle of her back over her nightgown and after grabbing a thick white cotton robe from the closet, she pulled it aside then started for the hallway.

“31 times now,” she considered as Dasha’s hand reached the door handle, “I don’t know why I ever bother keeping track. It might as well be infinite…”

Turning the handle the door pulled open and she stepped out into the morning cool air of the Medieval home trying to find some reason to continue this endless cycle, “A lifetime with Kyle is ok… I guess…” her quiet words trailed into a breath of exhaustion before her practiced smile was donned.

“Good morning, Countess,” Nancy, her personal maid, beamed with eagerness to learn and prove her worth like every life up till now.

Dasha nodded as appropriate her noble status, “Good morning, Nancy.” She continued walking worried that stopping would weaken her resolve to do anything.

Nancy mentions with pride, “breakfast is waiting along with the Count, my Lady,” she lets Dasha pass by as always.

A passionless “thank you,” was all she could muster. After a dozen lives, she knows everything about Nancy’s family, friends, and her capabilities.

Walking down the grand stairs to the dining hall she could smell the same food until Dasha arrived at the entrance where the house butler stood dutifully to serve the slightest whim with efficient passion. “Good morning, Countess,” the butler Michael pronounced as if his duty was his soul, and he wasn’t wrong.

“Hello Michael,” she forced a practiced smile and entered the room where her husband was seated taking small portions of eggs, cheese, vegetables, and toast. He looked up like a puppy upon her entrance then quickly stood to attend to her. Kyle was such a loving husband willing to sacrifice himself for anything her heart could desire. ‘If only that heart wasn’t seeking rest,’ she thought while approaching her seat across from Kyle’s place setting.

Kyle was attractive in his own way with dark black hair slightly receding at his temples. Not so handsome that the room took a breath when he entered, but enough he would never worry about finding a date for the annual gala. He pulled out her chair for her sit gracefully before helping her adjust closer to the table, “Such a pleasure you can join me, Dasha.” He said with earnest love and kissed her cheek.

“Every day is a dream with you,” she replied touching his hand with thanks before a maid rushed in and placed breakfast before her flawlessly. ‘Whether together or apart, nothing changes’, she laments in her mind, ‘whether dead or alive, nothing changes. I’ve tried everything I can think of and it just repeats over and over…’

“It’s always the same in the end,” she says to no one.

Count Kyle perks up like a dog hearing someone was going to throw a ball, “What is that, dear?”

“The food is always good,” she says with kindness encouraging a misunderstanding, “How is recruiting Steven coming along?”

Kyle looks quizzically at Dasha, “I don’t recall talking about that with anyone yet… But I am interested in him taking over the Edgemont kingdom caravan.”

Dasha knows all too well what proceeds from here, but there’s no reason to help. Everything seems old and worn out that avoiding the suspicion feels exhausting, “he always struck me as a man that wasn’t given an opportunity to shine. I think he’s a diamond in the rough.”

‘What should I do with myself,’ she thought to herself trying to search for a purpose, anything that would spark and emotional response other than to stamp it out. ‘I could incite a war with the nomads in the North but that would take years. Screw it. I just want to go to Disneyland and amuse myself as the world dies again.’

“It’s not like Jisha would stop me,” she says to herself then leans into the ridiculousness, “Kyle, what do you think about a family entertainment business?”

Kyle cocks his head lost in the strange use of terminology, “what’s a family business?”

Taking a bite of her eggs considering the idea, she sees no reason not to, “oh! It’s an idea I imagined to bring excitement to boring repetitive lives with rides.”

“Like horseback rides,” Kyle asks not sure where this is going, “carriage rides?”

“More or less.” She stands determined not to let this idea escape her attention, “please excuse me, I think I need to find someone right away.” She marches towards the door considering the breadth of the opportunities, “could they build a roller coaster? No reason not to find out.” Quickly she exits the dining room with an energy that hasn’t surfaced in a long time.

He stands to see her off, but Dasha is long gone and all he can do is look at the Butler at a loss for words, “it’s nice to see she found a hobby… I think? Please hep her with whatever she needs, Michael.”

“Of course my lord,” he replies as a matter of fact.

Kyle asks lost, “do you know what a roller coaster is?”

Michael adds after contemplation, “I think it’s a serving tray that rotates, my lord.”

The count nods, “of course, that makes sense. Dasha was always a fan of dinner party novelties.”