Well what do you know! I'm back with another fic, this time JapanXTaiwan! This was originally meant as a oneshot for a fic exchange between my friend June and I but I guess I just got carried away...This is set somewhere after 1895 when Taiwan was under Japanese rule. Since my family is from Taiwan, I felt the need to contribute to this little fandom :) I apologize in advance for any historical inaccuracies (although I do like to think I am quite knowledgeable on Taiwanese history)
Hope you enjoy!
On the battlefield, there was no difference between good or evil. People either attacked for power, wealth and women, or they defended against power, wealth and women. As far as Mei could tell, not even the innocent were truly uninvolved; there were always those who hid under the façade of the weak, helpless commoner, yet those hearts were often the darkest, tainted with deception and lies. Then there were the traitors, those hateful, despicable beings who abandoned the trust and expectations of others. Mei held them in contempt. But then again, maybe she was one herself. It was all too complicated and confusing; the types of people out in the world and whatnot, and Mei had long ago decided that there was no difference between them. Despite her conclusions, Mei found herself fascinated with all the corruption and immorality of humans, and held onto the shred of faith that there was still hope in humanity.
Mei took a sip. Too bitter, she decided. She missed the clean, refreshing taste of oolong tea, and wished for more than anything to be back in her home. The tangy after taste of the matcha lingered on her tongue, a harsh reminder of the empty hole in her heart. The tea, she realized, was not so different from Honda Kiku himself. Strong, pungent and bitter, with a green so deep she could not see the depths of the cup, the tea was an ironic reflection of her captor. She took a sip, then another, until she realized that she was gulping the tea down, earning a disapproving look from her maidservant, Shouko. She didn't care. The liquid burned down her throat, tears stinging her eyes, yet she didn't stop. Such little pain was nothing compared to the suffering of her people. It was the least she could do to ease her guilt.
"Mei-san, tea should not be gulped down. It is very unladylike. One should drink it slowly, in order to appreciate and taste the wonderful flavors," Shouko chided. She was a middle aged woman of broad shoulders and a sharp tongue, graying hair pulled back tightly into a bun that gave away her age. Her straight brows framed a pair of dull brown eyes that had seen too much sorrow and suffering to dwell on any lingering emotions in this world. Mei wondered if she would become like her; a hollow, empty shell of a woman, glorious days of youth all lost in the despair and misery of war.
Mei said nothing, only set the cup down with a soft thud against the table. Even the sounds were dull in this country. Nothing here could compare with the vibrant colors that surrounded her home, majestic mountains that towered above the city, and emerald green plains that stretched before her eyes, reaching no end until they touched the clouds on the horizon.
Shouko huffed at her indifference, and snatched her cup way. "Best learn your manners before Honda-san comes," she warned, rising from her position knelt on the floor. The screen door shut with a loud snap, and Mei was left by herself once again.
She fingered her hair. The once dark silky locks that shone under sunlight were now dry and lifeless, with split ends and a plain, dark brown color. It was funny; the effect sorrow had on humans. It not only affected the heart, but the physical being as well. She lay down on the cold tatami floor, trying to rid her mind of the devastating memories etched in her mind, but all she saw behind closed eyes was blood, blood and blood. Blood the color of red roses, a symbol of love and affection, but only reminded her of the loved ones she lost. Choking back a cry, she covered her ears with her hands in an attempt to block out her surroundings. Suddenly the chirping of a bird sounded like the dreadful screams begging for mercy, and at once Mei was transported back into the past.
Red. Red everywhere. Red on the brick walls of buildings, in murky puddles down the streets of innocent blood shed, in the hungry flames lapping at what was remained of the ruined city. Terrified screams filled the air as children were torn from their mothers, distraught cries as husbands were taken captive, dragged away from their families. Smoke filled the air, choking everyone, with tears running their cheeks, either from the smoke or despair, it was impossible to tell. Amidst the chaos, Mei was miraculously calm. Perhaps it was from the sheer loathing she felt for the Japanese, for her eyes burned with fury. Fury directed at Wang Yao, whom she trusted as a brother, the man who raised her as a child and taught her so many things. Fury directed at the Japanese as well, the source of all this chaos and destruction.
The rest of the events passed in a blur; Mei vaguely remembered being lead to a ship, and a man introducing himself as Honda Kiku. He was to be her caretaker, she was told, and to treat him with the same respect she held for Yao. But the respect was long gone, ever since he had handed her over to Japan. As she slowly walked down the dock, she looked into a pair of dark, emotionless eyes. They were the color of the night, every bit as ominous and cold, empty of any feeling or emotion. They seemed to swallow her up whole until she saw nothing, drowning in the obsidian abyss of desolation. And then she was falling, falling into pure blackness, with the sound of the wind rushing through her ears and the feeling of hands grabbing at her as she fell through emptiness. Mei opened her mouth in a silent scream, arms flailing wildly as she reached blindly for something, someone to hang onto for support.
"Mei?"
Mei's eyes flew open with a start. Mind still reeling from her nightmare, she groaned as she slowly took in her unfamiliar surroundings, vision still foggy from sleep. A single candle burned, the only source of light in the dark room. Rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, she looked around for the source of the voice that had rescued her from the traumatizing dream.
"Who's there?" Her voice sounded odd and frightened, bouncing off the walls and echoing around the empty room. It was scarcely furnished, with the traditional bamboo flooring and plain screen doors. A lonely table sat in the corner, with a sad branch of chrysanthemum drooping dejectedly from the vase. It reminded her too much of the stoic, impassive man that trapped her in this horrible place. The only part Mei didn't despise about the room was the screen door that lead to the garden she sought comfort in, her only corner of solace.
There was no reply. Only the sound of the wind rustling through the trees, and the occasional barking of a guard in the distance could be heard. Uneasy and slightly embarrassed at whoever had stumbled across her nightmare, Mei sat up and brushed a hand through her tangled locks. Her eyes caught sight of something.
On the opposite side of the room, where the screen door opened to the halls, something pink lay on the floor. Filled with curiosity, Mei crawled across the room on her hands and slowly inspected the object. It was a cherry blossom, freshly picked from a branch, as the single leaf attached was still green and smelled of fresh grass. Holding the flower close, Mei breathed in the faint scent, the petals tickling her nose. I wonder who left it here, she thought to herself. It couldn't have been Shouko, for she never disturbed her after tea was served, and the grouchy woman wasn't one to display affection with such romantic tasks. Puzzled and slightly troubled, Mei set the flower next to her hair ornaments. The plum blossoms were the only items Mei had left of her hometown, and she had fought hard to keep them.
When Mei had first arrived in Japan, the women had forced her to adapt to Japanese fashion and customs, including removing her hair ornaments. She had refused; the plum blossom was the national flower of Taiwan, and handing them in meant giving up the one piece of home left for her. Her stubbornness had resulted in a heated argument between the servants, until a disgruntled Honda stormed in and demanded them to let Mei keep her flowers, who looked up at him with wide, surprised eyes. That was the first act of kindness he had shown her. Or maybe he was just irritated with the fuss and wanted to solve the silly dispute quickly.
Now dried up and shriveled, Mei had set them on a shelf, checking each day to ensure they were safe from prying hands.
Mei slowly opened the back screen door, quietly as not to disturb anyone who was asleep. The faint glow of the moon greeted her as she breathed in the cool night air, the faint sound of crickets chirping reaching her ears. Looking up at the twinkling stars, she thought about her hometown, if everyone was still struggling to get by, unknown to the fact that just a few rooms away, a certain Japanese young man was staring at the same stars.
Not sure when I will next be able to update as finals are approaching... but chapter 2 should be up in no time!