Title ~ Ritual
Pair ~ Japan-centric, perhaps a tint of GerIta or NihIta.
Rating ~ T
AN ~ Just some quick notes – This all was based on my own trip to Hachimingu Shrine in Kamakura, I'm sorry if it's horridly inaccurate historical-wise. I don't have internet access very often so there is a lack of research.
- The Korean Lion-Dog guardians keep impure spirits and demons from entering the temple.
- The space in between the guardians represents life, if you walk closer to the one with its mouth open, you are young and just beginning life. Closer to the one with its mouth closed, you're old and in the evening of your life.
I think that's all. If you have any questions, leave a comment and ask! I'll be glad to answer.
Germany stared up at the Guardians; they stared on into the ethereal horizon, uncaring and undaunted. Stone monstrosities had nothing to fear from a Nation, they would last, and he would crumble, and he would not know until the end how futile the struggle was. His thin pale brows knit in faint concern, dropping his gaze uncomfortably to his ally in shades of worn blue. "Japan…" He muttered, conscious of the pressing presence of the beasts looming over him. "I will wait for you here." He was alarmed when his Asian friend simply glanced up at him, then at the beasts, then slowly back at him and nodded knowingly.
Italy's hand slipped from the German's gloved one, curious. However, questions could wait for later; Japan had already started to shuffle forward. The Italian followed easily, his heart light, while Germany stared up at the Guardians with frustration in his eyes.
Japan's geta clicked softly on the stone under their feet, passing silently between the great Lion-Dogs, Italy on his right, sunlight turning auburn hair to molten copper. Japan managed a small smile. Life just beginning… And his own…? The left shadow of death passed over him and he shivered, the smile dying on his lips. Too old, he felt it in his bones – he was withering away a little more with every passing second. Still he walked forward. The great red gate stood before them, they passed under it without a sound. A long dirt path stretched ahead of them, lined with blossoming cherry trees.
He and his remaining companion travelled in amicable silence, something exceedingly rare for the youthful, energetic Italian. A few of the petals had started to drop off the trees, fluttering slowly to the ground. Like tears… Japan's dark gaze followed one as it spun and floated on the slight breeze, tension slowly melting from his stiff shoulders – until a harsh broken scream shattered the silence. Japan leapt forward, hand twitching automatically to his hip. Empty. His eyes widened slightly and he stumbled, and then paused, turning to stare back at his Italian friend.
Italy was watching him with clear concern visible in his amber eyes. "Ja… Japan… Are you alright? Suddenly jumping about like that… You scared me!" The path was quiet again, the scream locked back inside Japan's mind. The shorter man nodded apologetically after a terse minute, tucking his hands inside opposite sleeves.
"I am sorry, Italy… I… forgot where I was, for a moment…"
He received a sunny smile in response; Italy continued walking forward once more and gently patted his friend on the shoulder. "That's alright," he shrugged, cheer still dancing on his lips. "I do that sometimes as well." They resumed the thoughtful silence, nearing the last Tori gate before the shrine itself.
Once more it allowed them under, stripping another layer from each. Italy seemed perkier than usual, but still he retrained his voice for the sake of Japan, a holy place should not be disturbed. Japan looked over at his friend, the weight on his heart pressing harder than ever.
They walked on, only a little further, over the bride and nearing the dancing stage. That's when Italy stopped, looking up the large building ahead of them. "Is it okay if you go on alone, Japan? I'd like to go and see the cute birds." Japan nodded with a small smile and the Italian returned it before he skipped off to his right, off to see the friendly doves. The shorter man continued slowly, stepping up to the small fountain with beaten copper cups lying all around it. He lifted one by its long wooden handle, dipping the cup into the basin. Holding it out in his left hand he poured a little of the water over his right hand, shivering softly at the chill of the water. He switched hands and repeated the motion, before returning the cup to his left hand. His right hand cupped and he poured a little more of the remaining water into it, bowing low to bring his mouth to his hand. The water touched his lips, icy cold as he sipped at it slowly, deep eyes falling closed.
It tasted like blood.
Nii-san… I'm sorry... China stared up at him listlessly, beautiful raven hair soaked with the blood from the pool he was laying in. He tried to speak, he choked. Nii-san, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Forgive me, I never meant to lose my temper, I didn't want it to be like this. His mouth stayed stubbornly shut. He walked away, China's blood dripping slowly from the end of his katana.
Japan's eyes snapped open, spitting out the water into the rock filled basin next to his feet. He lifted the cup upright and watched the rest of the water spill down the handle, over his fingers, dripping into the basin. He blinked, a soft frown marring his features. It was only water. It looked so red. He set the cup down, telling himself to stop imagining things. His hands were clean, the water was clear and pure. He tucked them neatly into his sleeves again before continuing on to the temple.
Up and up the steps he travelled, past the enormous gingko tree, and stepped into the inner sanctum of the shrine. Miko stepped lightly as they carried on their duties inside the temple, supervised by the priest walking around. Japan slowed to a stop in front of the altar, pulling a five-yen coin from his sleeve. It was tossed forward in with the other coins, landing with a dainty clink. He bowed once, twice, low and respectful, then straightened and clapped. Once, twice. His eyes slid closed again.
Open his heart. Make him understand that I… I didn't mean for it to escalate so far. Heal him. Don't make him forever carry a reminder of my mistakes. Soothe him. He fights with himself – should he forgive me, or shouldn't he... Help him. Help him move on, it's hurting him to dwell on it. Help him. Help me.
Emotionless eyes opened, he bowed low once more. The miko continued to shuffle on around him, the priest continued to walk. The birds chirped freely. The sun was shining. Life was going on around him, going on without him, it seemed. His heart ached. He looked down the steps and saw Italy standing at the bottom, waving cheerfully, waiting. He bowed his head slightly and walked down to his friend. "I am all done. We should hurry back, Germany is waiting for us." Italy nodded, eyes brightening at the thought of Germany waiting for him for any reason, and he took hold of Japan's hand with a slightly devious smile.
"It's too pretty outside to be rushing anywhere, Japan. Let's take our time." Japan flinched at the first brush of Italy's fingers against his own but after a moment they curled warmly over Italy's hand, and he was nodding a little.