A/N: This is a birthday gift for Beth…I know this is a little late, I wanted to get it out in the morning, but FFN was giving me trouble, and it simply would do as I demanded of it, you know how that goes.
Anyway yes, I know Shimako is mostly noted to be with Ginko Trees. However, the willow tree is likely even more part of Shimako than the Ginko is.
There are a few reasons for this, but, most notably is Shimako's religious beliefs, and her desire to strive for Christianity. Off the top of my head, I know there are roughly 25 bible verses that reference the willow tree…there may actually be more, but if there are, I don't recall them. These references pertain to everything from homosexuality (Corinthians 6:9) to all sorts of stuff, some verses more obscure than others.
Something to note, is that a willow branch will often be used as an offering on Psalm Sunday.
Another interesting part of the willow tree is that in Japanese mythology, willow trees are a place where ghosts tend to gather, and there are many famous sayings about the dead waiting for their lovers there…or go to there to watch over the land…a sort of kami of the land…
An interesting side note, there is a story called the "Green Willow" and that is a Japanese ghost story. A young samurai who falls in love with a woman who has a spiritual connection with a willow tree. There is a similar tale also called "The Willow Wife"…it follows the same basic idea.
Finally, in Buddhism a willow's branch is one of the most important attributes of Kwan Yin, the bodhisattva of compassion.
All of these things, I think, really have a lot to do with Shimako as a whole, and truly embody her very well…that being said, on with the fiction.
Happy Birthday Beth!
Among Willows
Ezekiel, Psalm, and Leviticus…Forgive me of my crimes, and that I sow the seed of my love for her, here of all places, among the treasured vines and shapely bark that gifts us such sweet shelter. That I turn such a blind eye to the teachings of Corinthians…I know I am a sinner…that I partake of this act willingly, unrighteous though it is…sinful, as it must be, I do not deny my deepest desire of her.
The book of Romans warns that I shall fall short, and fall I have, weak in the knees, because I need her.
In those lessons, ones I once held dear, I knew that I would somehow absorb the teachings, taking from them life's greatest lessons. I still feel as if, in spite of what I plan to do, that such passages will serve me well. I pray that is the case, and know deep down, somehow it is not.
Even so, I come here, hand in hand with her…seeking what should never be sought…
Tested by serpents, and acknowledging every sin that I have committed, here in a forest made of willows…and what beautiful things they are.
Long, flowing tendrils, swaying in the wind. It's as if they wave goodbye instead of welcoming a dear friend. Wise and strong, they come in all forms. Emotions that drift from the deepest depths of the soul. Ghosts that continue on…as they say upon the sickbed, I will be the willow that stays at your bedside.
An old adage perhaps. Yet one that is that deeply imbedded in Japanese traditions. It bespeaks that spirits of old will wait by the tears that fall from growing willow trees. It is a growth of the spirit, the longing of a soul…as if not a single penny could be paid to the ferryman.
Yes, even in that way, the trees are tragically beautiful.
Merely the caress of the leaves as they sway in the wind is enough to shout through the eons. That is what makes them stunning. It is perhaps, such a clear feeling, impressionable and without a doubt serene in its own inglorious way. Captivating and uneasy, it beckons a sense of desire that lingers betwixt and between nightmares…and perhaps that is why I feel such a calling to bring the woman that I love here.
Among this sovereign place...only here...where I can amuse my forthcoming whims, and listen to what sweet music she makes.
She is unused to my touch when it implores so much more than a simple caress. We are not in high school anymore, and girlish tittering's are a thing of the past. We are young women, with all of the deepest heartfelt desires one could have. This is a game we have played before, neither one of us willing to go further than a kiss or three, and make real our sinful desires of the flesh.
I know it is time for that game to end.
Her eyes flicker between hope and despair. Confusion and enlightenment. I do not mind, as my thumb traces her lower lip, silky and soft. A gentle intake of air tells me that she is drenched in undeniable uncertainty. That she fears the selfsame thing she can't possibly do without. That she insists to map out treasures she has not yet taken, and plundering depths she has yet to claim for her very own.
It is nice to know I am not the only one feeling a little out of sorts. The feelings between us are amazingly difficult to decipher sometimes. That I know too well.
This would be her first time with anyone. Man or woman, and that forces my own heart to stutter. I am equally inexperienced, unsure of what to do, or if I should go about doing it. I know what I would like to do, but wonder if I am truly permitted to do so.
"Are you absolutely sure?" I ask her, though I highly doubt I could bring myself to hold back even if she did deny my advances. "I will not force you."
"Yeah." She says, though the quake in her voice tends to disagree.
"You don't seem positive." I say through a soft smirk, but it doesn't carry any sort of confidence, as I have none to gift.
"It's been long enough. I doubt I'll be more ready." She said, leaning into me. Her lips touch mine, and though it is a warmth I've come to expect, and to enjoy from her time and time again, the way her fingertips tremble tells me she is still uneasy.
Still, I drink deeply from her, taking her passions as my own until we pull away breathlessly. She smiles at me, kind and warm. "I won't regret this at all." Those words, at very least, I know are true. "I'm yours, Shimako." She leans in to kiss me again, this time, her hands rest at my hips, her fingers hooking into the loops of my jeans, an item I must admit, I am still unused to wearing often.
That is what I love about her.
She gave her heart to me. I know that it is mine to keep, and I have been sure to cradle it as gently as I can. I have even given to her my own soul, which she has gifted light. I know, because of that truth, I have learned to desire her all the more.
I pull away from the kiss, and I see the swirl of emotion that so easily turns around like pinwheels in her eyes. I see the frown that's not from disappointment, but rather deep thought…even the way her brows crinkle only slightly shouts how fast her mind intend to run away from her.
"Yumi, please." I murmur into her ear heatedly. "You shouldn't think at a time like this."
Again, I see the flicker of something more enter her eyes, and she shakes her head. "Some thoughts are good." She tells me, and she brings her hands up to play the with the hem of her shirt, her fingers toying with the folds as she nods to me, her eyes slipping behind closed lids. She slowly drags the simple cotton up over her head, and then lifts my hand up to rest over her heart. I can feel the soft drumbeat, and she leans into me again. "Kiss me." She say heatedly when my thumb traces the soft fabric of her bra, her request a loud boom in my ears.
She is exquisite in every way, even as she pushes through her fear to welcome me in an embrace. I know that neither of us will escape this evening untarnished. We no longer wish to be maidens, instead we want to be lovers, in every sense of the word.
I do not deny her as I kiss her again, tangling my fingers through her soft, shoulder length hair, melting into her.
That she can consume me so, and make even a place as perfect as this a place that I will engage in the sweetest of sins. We'll lay on a soft blanket made of angelic down, and I will kiss her like every confession I've ever known. I will lay bare, concealed by the trees so that only her eyes see me, just as mine see only her.
Even if I am committing blasphemy, I do not care whilst we're here, amongst the willows.
