Twenty-Nine Days
Summery: His life is guided by the principles of honor, and he only has twenty-nine days to regain it. BushidoXChesire one-shot
February 14th, Valentine's Day
Midnight
For the morning of love it was bitterly cold. Sharp winds howled through the early day that could easily cut through anything standing in its way, like this warrior's uniform. Underneath a tree slept Bushido, almost buried by the stalking weeds in the field around him. He grimaced against the chill, and tossed around trying to get comfortable again. Or warm, either one.
Just as he started to drift off into peaceful sleep again, something rustled in the field. In his half-asleep state, he braced for the next gust of wind and the stinging pain on his face. He waited and waited, but it seemed that the winds had died down. Bushido opened his eyes, his hand grazing the hilt of his katana. Everything seemed to stand still, silence hanging in the air, until another rustle was heard. The hand hovering above the sword suddenly gripped it tightly. There was even more rustling, as the uninvited guest recklessly moved around in the night. Focusing in on the sound, the warrior tried to discern where it was coming from.
Above! Leaves trickled down the tree trunk behind Bushido accompanied by a small gasp. Bushido seized the opportunity to unsheathe his katana. Nimbly, he hopped up the up the branches of the giant oak.
The journey up the tree lacked any surprise attacks that Bushido was anticipating. At the peak of the tree, he surveyed the landscape below. The vast field didn't show any traces of his intruder. Yet just as he started to climb down, something budged in the corner of his eye. He quickly sidled over to the source of action, clutching onto the branch an object was dangling from. A box was strapped down to the tree by a metal talon pierced through the middle. The claw was just starting to tear down the box; it was slipping off the tree branch. Bushido quickly snatched it, and taking the talon with him, jumped off the rocking tree.
He quickly lifted the lid off; flinching back in case any attacks should spring up at him, only to find a tray full of chocolates. Tentatively, he picked one up, and after inspecting it, popped the piece into his mouth. Immediately it melted, spreading warmth through him on this cold morning. His eyes trailed to the moon where he could just barely make out the silhouette of a figure hopping from tree to tree on the horizon.
The warrior's name embodied the meaning of the Japanese samurai code of honor, and honor was something Bushido was about to uphold. His duties in life were save the innocent people around him from peril and bring honor to his name. His mission now, by accepting and eating those chocolates, was White Day. In this case, honor became White Day, the holiday celebrated a month after Valentine's Day where the man gives a gift in return for what he received a month earlier.
But what could be used as his return gift? Instantly, Bushido knocked cooking off his list. Lowering to the floor, he rested his head against the tree. This spear, he had seen it before. Running it gently through his fingers, Bushido tried to recall who it belonged to. He brought it to his face; a green ribbon tied around the grip stood out. Bushido frowned, untying it. He definitely remembered seeing this. Then it hit him. Scenes of fighting and being frozen in Paris flashed at him.
That girl, the one in the mask, the mask that smirked with sharp fangs, who belonged to the Brotherhood of Evil, who were now the frozen ones. Bushido stared at her claw, perplexed. Even so, they weren't match. Hero and villain, a pair that could never work in Bushido's mind, and yet…he still felt obligated to return the favor. He was the hero in the pair, after all.
His thoughts kept returning to how she escaped her frozen prison. He pondered it, but in the back of his mind, Bushido concluded that he might never find out. There were so many possibilities. Was it really her? Was her being frozen all an illusion? It continued to pester him. It wasn't that it had to be her; Bushido wanted it to be her.
After sticking another piece of chocolate in his mouth, Bushido slumped further down to the floor, his mind vacant of any ideas. His hands hit the cool floor and suddenly he sat up straight again. His fingers rubbed the gritty soil underneath the tree. Bushido knew what to do.
The weather worked on his side for the next month. He scoured nearby forests for any traces of plant and flower life. Working with what he could find in the middle of winter, Bushido returned to the tree. He spent his days planting the flowers, building a protective hut around the seedlings, caring for them, and all the while fighting evil. His duties to both his flowers and his people could not be neglected, it was an honor thing, and maybe passion too.
A month passed, and each day Bushido looked forward to seeing his plants grow more and more. He picked up the water can to give them their daily dose when he heard shrieks coming from the village below. Out of instinct, his free hand went to his sword. Bushido intently watched the village below for the source of the shriek. Hearing a loud crash and seeing debris scatter, Bushido darted to his feet and reluctantly started to sprint toward the source of danger.
He took one final longing glance at his little flower bed and the green ribbon tacked to the tree trunk above it by her spear. Today was the day, a month had passed and White Day was upon him. In that short time, he bonded with his creation. Bushido longed to picture the face of that cat girl when she received her bouquet, if only it wasn't hidden by a mask, and if only he knew where to find her.
Another crash brought him back to attention and Bushido rapidly continued down the hill to the town below. He ran to the center of the village, expecting to see the villain ransacking it here more deliberately. His sword clattered to the ground to see that such an action had already been completed. Bushido looked around, taking in the damage. He was too late; the villain came and went. The citizens had already started to clean up the rubble that was thrown about in their homes. Bushido stepped toward one of the town's structures. It was made out of wood, showing off the town's rural and simplistic ways of life. He ran his hands down the wall where he saw slash marks, four of them.
His eyes widened with realization and he inhaled sharply, his mind returning to his tree. Turning on his heel, Bushido briskly walked back over to his sword, swooping down to pick it up in one swift movement. With that same pace, Bushido stumbled out of the village and back up the hill.
The sun was setting rapidly; pink and orange hues lighting up whatever elements of day were left. A girl clothed in a green robe emerged from the bush of weeds. She approached the tree with stealthy confidence. Silently, Cheshire removed her claw and ribbon from the tree it was pinned to, replacing them back on her body. Looking down, she spied the flowers planted inside the miniature hut. Bending down, Cheshire used her claws to cut them loose from the ground.
Bushido burst through the reeds in time to see the cascading black hair of a girl stand up in front of his flowers. Cheshire heard his noisy entrance and turned to face him. Bushido staggered back, a mask with sharp fangs, green ribbons, claws, it was really her. Gracefully, Cheshire bowed, leaped up, and bounded away, holding the flowers close to her heart the whole time. She left him at the base of the tree, transfixed in a state of awe.
Bushido would let her get away, helping to rebuild the town in her place. It was his duty as a hero to help and it was her duty as villain to destroy. Two extreme opposites are what they are. Though he couldn't help but smile dreamily, knowing that underneath her scary mask, she was too.
A fic for a contest on a forum with the theme of a Holiday, in case this seemed familiar to anyone. The Robin and Starfire Shrine is the place to be!!!
Hope you all enjoyed!!
