赤い糸 [AKAI ITO]

A quiet beep sounded from Gilbert's watch and he looked up to see that the light coming through the window had turned a deep orange. He leaned back in his seat on the couch in order to stretch and caught a glimpse of Kiku sitting at the table in his bedroom, leaning over a drawing with which he was obviously engrossed.

The German man dog-eared the page in Kiku's copy of Hobutsushu he had been reading in order to stand up and make his way into the other room. Even as he sat back down again, this time on Kiku's right in order to look over his shoulder at what he was working on, the artist didn't stray from the steady lines he was inking over with a thin black pen.

Gilbert watched for a while, adjusting when Kiku needed to move and occasionally moving markers and toning paper closer when it was required. He got up once to turn a second lamp on, but otherwise didn't move from his place at the young man's side, his hand subconsciously resting at the hem of Kiku's shirt as a sort of comfort. The sky outside was dark when Gilbert finally spoke up. Kiku was running a thick red line along the space between the two people he was drawing.

"So what is the story behind that red string?"

Silence followed for a few minutes. Gilbert glanced between the paper and the artist, watching darker red shading make its way onto the string. When it successfully looked three-dimensional enough, Kiku sat up to grab a white paint pen and began to dab highlights and shine over the two characters and the thread binding their two smallest fingers together. Gilbert finally recognized that the two were some of Kiku's newest characters that he had been doing random sketches of in his free time.

"It is from Chinese legend, but Japanese tell the story a lot too," Kiku finally said, adding a final highlight to the thread before setting the pen down and grabbing a black ink one in order to add his signature to the corner, "It's really very sweet."

Gilbert smiled when Kiku did and leaned his head on his hand to watch him add the final details to the drawing. "How does the story go?"

"Hmm… There is a boy who meets an old man one night when the moon is shining. The man tells him that he is attached to his future love by a red thread, and he shows the boy who she is. However, the boy does not want to be married, so he throws a rock at her and runs away."

The German threw his head back and barked a laugh, eliciting a soft chuckle out of Kiku as well. "Oh mein Gott, what a brat!"

Looking towards Gilbert, the Japanese man leaned back into his chest, having finished everything he could on his drawing. It was of two young girls, one with long white hair and the other with shoulder-length black hair, both with matching serene expressions and a hand reached out toward the other. They were framed by the red string, which twined around them intricately and twisted along their arms before connecting to their pinkies. They were surrounded by small yet infinitely detailed flowers and petals that gave the illusion of wind swirling softly. Gilbert was always blown away by the extent of detail that Kiku put into his work, and even more so in the amount of time his work took him; he was certain he hadn't even had a sketch of this done a few hours ago.

Kiku continued to explain, pulling Gilbert's hand from his lower back in order to wrap it around his waist and hold him closer. "Indeed. However, he does grow, and he does eventually desire marriage, so when he is a man, his parents arrange a marriage for him. He does not meet his wife until the night of their wedding, when she is waiting in his room for him. He lifts her veil to see that she is one of the prettiest girls in his village, but she wears an ornament on her eyebrow."

Gilbert hummed in understanding and pulled the drawing closer in order to take in all the details. "I'm guessing it's the same girl," he commented, holding Kiku slightly tighter to invoke a soft sound of appreciation.

"Mm, don't figure out the story before I tell it," the artist complained with another laugh, "He asks her why she wears it, and she says that when she was younger, a boy threw a rock at her and scarred her eyebrow. So she wears the ornament to cover it because she is embarrassed. The boy realizes that she is the same girl and that the man he met that night was right about how they were tied together by that string of fate." Kiku finished by linking his smallest finger with Gilbert's and lifting their hands to show him their fingers intertwined.

"How romantic," the younger man said softly; he had buried his face in Kiku's neck, reveling in the warmth of his body, "Do you think our threads are connected?"

The artist made a gentle sound as he stared at their bound hands. "I certainly hope so."


I understand this was uploaded by someone else, but I figured for safety's sake I would upload it to my own profile. This was originally written by me back at the beginning of May. I would prefer any further favorites or reviews for this one-shot go to this upload... Thank you.

For future reference, don't steal other peoples' work. It's not nice. :c