Author's notes: So after literally years of not writing anymore fic, and after falling out of the whole fanfic-reading thing, Saiunkoku madness infected me long enough to resume reading Saiunkoku fic... which in turn led to me somehow churning out this piece on the spur of the moment. I say spur of the moment since that's how the idea came to me, really (inspired by a particular tiny flashback scene in the anime), though due to my usual long-winded writing skills the fic ended up being much longer than I originally planned. (That's ALWAYS how these things work for me - I can never seem to write anything short even if I wanted to.) It's funny how I decided to write a Kokujun-Shunki fic, considering they're not even one of my favourite pairings in the series (not that I dislike this pairing, because I DO like them - they're just not very high on my moe list), but my brain never seems to be able to handle writing stories about my favourite pairings/characters. And well, the two of them are just too adorable to NOT have something dedicated to them. The world needs more Kokujun x Shunki love, especially since they don't really get that much screentime as compared to other characters in the series.
But I digress. The whole point of that ramble was actually to say that since I haven't written in ages, this fic is rather rough around the edges, I'd beg you to please be gentle with it. Though come to think of it, I'd actually welcome some good constructive criticism to help whallop my rusty writing skills back into shape. :D
Title: Silent Sanctuary (Please excuse the extreme cheesiness, I've never been too good at titling things)
Pairing: Kokujun x Shunki (Gasp! Because Kokujun is one of the wimpiest guys ever and he so totally should have Shunki by his side ALL the time in order to be, um, not so much of a sissy. That and they're ultra cute together. :D)
Rating: G (I... am actually not too knowledgeable about ratings, but all you need to know is that this fic is suitable for anyone. Unless you have problems with waff. :p
Summary: In which a whole lot of nothing happens. Oh, and Kokujun and Shunki spend a quiet day in the library.
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this story, nor any other Saiunkoku Monogatari characters (as much as I would love to). Because I will never be able to reach the level of amazingness that Yukino-sensei has achieved in creating the wonderful story that is Saiunkoku.
Somehow he wished the day would stretch on forever.
In the somewhat dim light filtering in from a nearby open window, Kokujun sat on a bench in the library, inhaling in the dusty scent of old books and the acrid wetness of paintbrush ink as he focused on the fascinating book before him. There was nothing he liked better than being able to settle down with a book in hand in his favourite place in the mansion – with his shy, self-deprecating personality not being suited for the social interactions and flatteries expected of him as one of the members of the esteemed Sa clan, he much preferred the quiet company of his straw-bound friends, which beckoned to him enticingly with whispers of knowledge and excitement, and which, unlike their human counterparts, never sought to criticize or ridicule him for what he lacked or for his incompetence in carrying out his duties. He had always thought that he would have been the happiest person alive if he could simply hide away in a solitary corner of the library, passing his days uneventfully while going through scores and scores of books, wrapped in the comfortable atmosphere of tranquility and serenity that pervaded this personal refuge of his. He had thought it impossible for there to be anything else that would make this simple dream of his even better.
But now he was finding that he was wrong, and for once in his life he was glad of that fact.
He was fully aware of the soft presence breathing quietly beside him, its warmth pressing gently against him. As he stole a quick glance over to the body leaning against him (No, not leaning, simply sitting beside, he corrected himself sternly, adhering to his strict sense of proprietary which was one of the very few things he prided himself on), his lips curled up involuntarily into an affectionate smile at the sight of the beautiful girl staring steadfastly before her, a very slight frown creasing her forehead as her eyes took in the words spilling out from the pages.
Resisting the urge to reach over and smoothen that crease with his fingers (he was horrified at how forward his thoughts were being, let alone that they had wandered away from the book he was supposed to be focusing on), he reached out to turn the next page over, and all at once the name of his grandaunt leaped out from the pages of the book at him. He wasn't surprised, considering that this book was on his favourite topic, and any book revolving around the granduncle he greatly admired was bound to at least have a mention of the great man's wife who some said was just as impressive as her spouse. All the same, it conjured to mind an image of the formidable old lady, sternly reprimanding him earlier that day for his fumbled attempt at extending an invitation to Shunki.
"Ask her to go out on a walk! You fool!"
He recalled it clearly, the words fresh in his mind for having been uttered only a scant few hours before. The smile on his lips twisted into a rueful one at this recollection of his ineptitude – he had always been all too aware of his deficiencies, and this case was no exception, for he was certainly not one would call a lady's man. Indeed, it was so much the opposite that at times he despaired at his lack of knowledge in the delicate and precise art of courting a loved one. (Just thinking of that phrase embarrassed him horribly – he couldn't quite imagine putting his name in the same sentence with words like "wooing" and "courting".) It was not as if he had any other male role model he could turn to to ask for instruction on this area either – his father was all too often caught up in arguments with his grandfather that left him too wearied and discontent to be in the mood for advising his youngest son in frivolous matters, and his eldest brother Soujun's approach to matters of love was rough-handed when he even deigned to think of it at all, much preferring to involve himself in activities that required physical exertion. The other elder brother, Sakujun, was simply out of the question – he was a complete enigma, and only ever did things at his own pace and for none other than himself. The thought of him even pausing in his prodigal activities to listen to Kokujun's troubles was ludicrous. (And he wouldn't have put it past Sakujun to trick him into making a fool out of himself in front of Shunki - if one of Kokujun's many faults was that he was too gullible, one of his strengths was that he was acutely aware of it.)
That's why, being fully aware of his inadequacies as a potential suitor vying for Shunki's hand (he dreaded watching her being approached by other men seeking to make her theirs, knowing in his heart that they were so much better suited to be her partner than an incompetent fool like him, and always breathed a secret sigh of relief every time Eiki chased each one of them away), he knew he should have listened to his grandaunt's advice this time round – after all, being a woman herself, and with the added bonus of having had lots of experience due to her age, she was bound to know exactly how women wished to be treated in instances such as this.
And yet, knowing this, some selfish part of him wished to reject his grandaunt's advice. Having once thought that his greatest wish was simply to be left alone to peruse his favourite books by himself, he had been convinced more and more that he now wanted to invite Shunki into this secret, special sanctuary of his. He wanted to let her be a part of something that was so important to him, filled with the desire to let her understand him better, and more importantly, he simply wanted to be afforded the luxury of being able to spend some quality time with her. This is why he had mustered up all his courage to extend that invitation to her, using the excuse of reading a newly discovered book on Granduncle Enjun in order to hide his true intentions – he knew that she was aware of his great admiration for his granduncle, and hoped that he could use this knowledge to cover-up his true intention and make it seem only as if he were merely too excited over his discovery and wanted to share his enthusiasm with another. (He felt a slight pang of guilt at the thought of his deceit, but resolved to brush it away – he was willing to sacrifice his conscience by telling a little white lie just as long as he could be with her.)
Distracted in his thoughts, he unthinkingly reached out to turn over another page of the book, his absence of mind causing his hand to shoot out with slightly more strength than he had up till then been careful to keep, and that was how he found the back of his hand brushing against a wall of her jet-black hair, the soft strands skimming over the surface of his skin and tickling it lightly. Captured by the subtle sensation, for a moment he wondered what it would feel like to reach over to touch her softly, to run his hand through the length of her hair, letting it wash over his palm like a supple, rippling wave, his fingers slipping through the silken strands like a fish weaving its way through tenderly caressing fronds of seaweed (of course, he thought absent-mindedly, that was just an analogy, he didn't mean literally that her hair was like the aforementioned coarse and unrefined seaweed - that would have been an utter insult for such beautifully kept hair as hers.)
His reverie was cut short by a movement from Shunki, who made as if to pull away. Jolted back into reality and ashamed of the sudden inappropriate turn his thoughts had taken, he hastily jerked his hand away, and blushing profusely, started to stutter words of apology. But in his hurry to pull back, he had exerted too much force, and as his elbow jerked backward rapidly, it came into immediate and resounding contact with the armrest of the bench. The armrest which had a very pointy, very lethal, very potentially pain-inflicting figurehead carved onto it.
A pause.
A moment of stunned silence.
And then a sharp fizz seared through his arm almost at the speed of light, momentarily paralyzing it.
Trying to stifle the yelp of pain that threatened to erupt from his lips and attempting to smooth his face before the twist of pain on it could become any more obvious, his natural reaction was to clasp the injured spot with his uninjured hand in an attempt to stem the pain.
Unfortunately, this had the effect of making him lose his grip on his book.
Realising with horror that it was making a speedy descent towards the floor, he desperately batted at it, hastily trying to grab it back into his numb clutches, but to his dismay his uncooperative hands only succeeded in making the book hop and skip back up in the air in a whimsical dance of jerks and flips, his flailing arms a rude imitation of a conductor flourishing his baton elegantly at his orchestra, before the wretched book finally clattered to the floor with a loud WHUMP.
Another pause.
And then, with the agonizing pain in his elbow finally ebbing away somewhat (perhaps it had something to do with how his embarrassment had made him clutch his injured arm so tightly in despair that his fingernails dug in to his skin painfully – his pain-glazed mind vaguely misquoted the idiom "fighting pain with pain" at him), he stooped to pick up the book, his face even redder than it had been before. Mentally berating himself for having yet once again behaved like a complete and utter fool in front of Shunki, he lingered in that position with his face pointed towards the floor for a while longer, desperately turning his head away from her in an attempt to hide his embarrassment and buy time to let his brightly burning face cool off.
Unfortunately (again), this attempt was an obvious miscalculation on his part – having failed to realize that remaining in facedown position would cause all the blood to rush to his face, making his brilliant blush worse, he slowly raised himself back into his previous sitting position, unaware that he now sported a countenance that bore a remarkable resemblance to a bright red chilli.
Continuing to stutter apologies and silently cursing himself for his clumsiness, and for having made a moron of himself yet again before the one person he never wished had to see this ungainly side of him, he uncomfortably dusted off the book and flipped it open, trying to find the page they had last left off before his misadventure. In his haste and embarrassment, however, he failed to notice that his trembling hands were gripping the pages rather too tightly, and in turning one of them over, there was a loud and sudden RIIIIIIIP!
And the horrified Kokujun found his right hand grasping a lone loose page, with the remains of the poor victimized book in his left.
He was almost about to cry from the shame at his utter stupidity when suddenly a warm hand was placed over the hand holding the offending page. Turning to look at its source, he saw Shunki smiling her gentle smile at him, eyes softened with understanding. Almost immediately, he relaxed. Oddly enough, as shy as he often was about invading Shunki's personal space, it was different the other way around - whenever she reached out to hold his hand it had the instant effect of calming his rattled nerves. As he looked into her eyes, he felt the oddest of sensations – was it possible for a heart to quiet down and yet flutter at the same time?
Just as he was pondering the mysteriousness of this feeling, she rose and broke away from him – dismayed and thinking that he had done something to offend her, he could only stare disconsolately at her retreating back as she walked away toward a table a few shelves away, rummaged through the contents carelessly strewn on top of it, and, to his immense relief, walk back towards him and rearrange herself in her previous seat next to him. He briefly wondered if it seemed as if she had settled down in a spot minimally closer to him, but quickly wiped that thought away from his mind as impossible. Shunki was as proper in her conduct as he was careful in his behaviour towards her.
Mired deep in his musings, he didn't notice what she was doing until something was thrust before his eyes – his head reeling back slightly from the surprise of having something abruptly encroaching on his field of vision, his eyes refocused on the object she held in her hand and realized it was a small pot with a lid on it. A hole was cut in the lid of the pot, with what seemed like a wooden stick poking out from it. As he stared bemusedly at it, it was withdrawn from his sight and as still in his confused state, he looked on as Shunki removed the lid and withdrew the stick from the pot, applying the gooey substance clinging to it to the thin vertical border of serrated paper that had remained attached to the centre of the book from the spot of the torn off page. Gently prying the ill-fated loose leaf from his stiff grip (he had to mentally chastise himself again for feeling a slight stir of delight as her fingers brushed lightly against his), she pressed it against the now sticky border by running her finger over the length of it. A few seconds ticked by, after which she lifted a corner of the paper and, waving it gently to the left and right with the aforementioned border of paper as a pivot, showed that the page had been stuck back firmly in its rightful place in the book.
At the sight, a brilliant smile broke over Kokujun's face, and with his previous bumbling actions and embarrassment flapped away by the waving motion of the restored page, he reached out to take the book back from her. This time, when their fingers touched, neither of them pulled away. Their gazes lingered on each other's faces for a bit longer, silence bridging the gap in between the two. Far from being oppressive, the silence seemed to simply wrap itself lovingly around these two who needed no words to communicate; rather than useless words, all that was needed was this comfortable sense of quiet understanding.
Having indulged in staring at each other for as long as decorum would permit, the two reluctantly dragged their eyes away from each other and returned their attention to the book in hand. Before long, they had settled back into their previous positions, all prior accidents forgotten. Had an onlooker cast his eyes upon the pair, the quiet way in which they settled down next to each other, barely stirring from their positions of close proximity save for the gentle, synchronised rise and fall of their chest, it would have seemed as if they two pieces of a whole sculpture that had always been together even at the artist's first conception, double figures carved from a single piece of wood, never separated nor never to be separated from the other.
And as they continued to read in the comfortable silence of the library, if this time it might have seemed like Shunki was nestled closer against him, or if the tips of Kokujun's fingers lingered on a lock of her hair that had fallen on the edges of the book, no mention of it was made in the quiet stillness of their peaceful sanctuary.
