Kage to Kasumi (Shadows and Mists)
A Vampire Princess Miyu Fanfic
by:
Sailor Seraphim
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Author's Notes:
I do not own Vampire Princess Miyu or any of its related characters. I do, however, own the situations which occur in this fic. This is my first -- and probably my only -- foray into the Miyu fandom. I'm writing this fic as a gift for my friend, K-chan.
SPOILERS for the Vampire Princess Miyu TV series. It would be good if you knew about Miyu's past (i.e.: her life with her mother). You *have* to know what the significance between red and white kimonos is. It's important! If you don't know, I'll have extra notes at the end of the fic.
WARNINGS for surrealism, general abstractness, and symbolism. Possible OOC-ness, but probably not.
Enjoy!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A thin gray mist hung over the whole area, bathing the cemetery with an eerie sense of dread and forboding. The meager light from the far away lampposts seemed to be absorbed into the damp fog, rebounding in strange patterns and throwing dancing shadows across every surface. And through the enveloping fog a single note sounded, ringing clear and pure, high and sweet. It was followed by another, and yet another, until the single notes danced and blended together into a haunting and timeless melody.
She sat perched on top of the largest crypt, her legs crossed demurely at the ankles. Her bare feet swung along gently, keeping time with the flute, one long red ribbon trailing belatedly after. Though the slim young girl was wearing only a pristine white kimono with red obi, she took no notice of the chill in the air or the smothering fog. Instead, her fingers continued to move precisely, lilting out her tune with an ease born of much repetition.
The girl's eyes remained closed as she played, her head bowed slightly, causing her light brown hair -- that which wasn't caught up in a small bun bound by red ribbon -- to fall across her soft features. The song continued to sound across the abandoned graveyard... a dance for the dead alone. Her bare feet continued to swing. The fog thickened.
And like a gathering of shadows, the fog parted behind the girl and a tall figure swathed in black emerged. The black-robed stranger stood menacingly behind the girl, but she took no notice of his presence, too engrossed in her tune. He took a small step forward, the pale moonlight striking off the white mask across his face, and stood directly behind the girl. The folds of his long robe brushed the girl's back and shoulders.
But still she played.
Somewhere, far off, an animal howled into the night, followed by its brothers. The lilting flute stopped in mid-note and the girl's doe-like eyes drifted hazily open. Her expression was one that no girl who looked her age should ever have to bear. Not lowering the flute from her lips nor breaking her gaze from the fog before her, the girl sighed.
"Why are you here, Larva?" the girl questioned lightly, her soft voice echoing the flute.
The man draped in black removed his mask, revealing a handsome face marked only by time. "You called me, Miyu."
The girl sighed again, leaning back so that her back rested fully against Larva's lower legs. With his support behind her, Miyu lowered her arms, crossing them and the flute across her abdomen.
"Did I?" she asked.
But it was not really a question. And it was not really a statement either.
The two remained in their places atop the crypt, a strange sight indeed, if any but the dead had been watching. Miyu snuggled farther back against Larva -- relishing in his presence -- her amber eyes drifting closed again and a strange smile playing across her lips. Larva remained standing, saying nothing. However, he did not replace his ever-present mask and the cool fog and breeze teased the loose strands of his pale blue hair.
"Ne, Larva?"
"Yes, Miyu?"
The girl did not immediately answer, instead idly raising one slim hand through the air. Her delicate fingers twirled in abstract patterns through the fog, playing with the thin whisps of dreams and memories.
"Did you know... my mother asked me once whether I would like to have a red kimono, or a white one."
"Did she?"
"Yes."
With a gentle touch Larva caught Miyu's wandering hand in his own, his larger hand enveloping hers. Miyu raised her amber eyes questioningly, tilting her head back against Larva's legs and giving an enigmatic smile. Then, with a grace that came from years of practice, Miyu raised herself from her sitting position, her hand still firmly grasped in Larva's. She gave a high giggle that managed to pierce through the fog, twirled in her Guardian's arms, and finally settled with her back against Larva's chest. She reached out like a child, gathering the folds of Larva's black robe to drape around her own slim shoulders. The blue-haired Shinma raised his arms, firmly securing the Guardian in his embrace. His head bent down, pale blue locks spilling over thick black cloth to brush softly against doe-brown strands.
"And which did you pick?"
Miyu snuggled farther back into Larva's embrace, smiling into the darkness and mist. Her amber eyes flashed gold in the dim light.
"Neither."
Then the haunting flute melody was struck up again, and the shadows danced with the fog in the deepening twilight.
-- Owari --
-----------------------------
There is definite symbolism with the question of choosing between a white and red kimono. As stated in the series, Miyu's mother *did* ask her which Miyu would prefer. The red kimono is what prisoners traditionally wore (like those orange prison shirts), and a white kimono was reserved for the dead. Thus, the question is really whether Miyu would rather be imprisoned/trapped or dead. She, of course, said that she didn't want a new kimono at all.
A Vampire Princess Miyu Fanfic
by:
Sailor Seraphim
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Author's Notes:
I do not own Vampire Princess Miyu or any of its related characters. I do, however, own the situations which occur in this fic. This is my first -- and probably my only -- foray into the Miyu fandom. I'm writing this fic as a gift for my friend, K-chan.
SPOILERS for the Vampire Princess Miyu TV series. It would be good if you knew about Miyu's past (i.e.: her life with her mother). You *have* to know what the significance between red and white kimonos is. It's important! If you don't know, I'll have extra notes at the end of the fic.
WARNINGS for surrealism, general abstractness, and symbolism. Possible OOC-ness, but probably not.
Enjoy!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A thin gray mist hung over the whole area, bathing the cemetery with an eerie sense of dread and forboding. The meager light from the far away lampposts seemed to be absorbed into the damp fog, rebounding in strange patterns and throwing dancing shadows across every surface. And through the enveloping fog a single note sounded, ringing clear and pure, high and sweet. It was followed by another, and yet another, until the single notes danced and blended together into a haunting and timeless melody.
She sat perched on top of the largest crypt, her legs crossed demurely at the ankles. Her bare feet swung along gently, keeping time with the flute, one long red ribbon trailing belatedly after. Though the slim young girl was wearing only a pristine white kimono with red obi, she took no notice of the chill in the air or the smothering fog. Instead, her fingers continued to move precisely, lilting out her tune with an ease born of much repetition.
The girl's eyes remained closed as she played, her head bowed slightly, causing her light brown hair -- that which wasn't caught up in a small bun bound by red ribbon -- to fall across her soft features. The song continued to sound across the abandoned graveyard... a dance for the dead alone. Her bare feet continued to swing. The fog thickened.
And like a gathering of shadows, the fog parted behind the girl and a tall figure swathed in black emerged. The black-robed stranger stood menacingly behind the girl, but she took no notice of his presence, too engrossed in her tune. He took a small step forward, the pale moonlight striking off the white mask across his face, and stood directly behind the girl. The folds of his long robe brushed the girl's back and shoulders.
But still she played.
Somewhere, far off, an animal howled into the night, followed by its brothers. The lilting flute stopped in mid-note and the girl's doe-like eyes drifted hazily open. Her expression was one that no girl who looked her age should ever have to bear. Not lowering the flute from her lips nor breaking her gaze from the fog before her, the girl sighed.
"Why are you here, Larva?" the girl questioned lightly, her soft voice echoing the flute.
The man draped in black removed his mask, revealing a handsome face marked only by time. "You called me, Miyu."
The girl sighed again, leaning back so that her back rested fully against Larva's lower legs. With his support behind her, Miyu lowered her arms, crossing them and the flute across her abdomen.
"Did I?" she asked.
But it was not really a question. And it was not really a statement either.
The two remained in their places atop the crypt, a strange sight indeed, if any but the dead had been watching. Miyu snuggled farther back against Larva -- relishing in his presence -- her amber eyes drifting closed again and a strange smile playing across her lips. Larva remained standing, saying nothing. However, he did not replace his ever-present mask and the cool fog and breeze teased the loose strands of his pale blue hair.
"Ne, Larva?"
"Yes, Miyu?"
The girl did not immediately answer, instead idly raising one slim hand through the air. Her delicate fingers twirled in abstract patterns through the fog, playing with the thin whisps of dreams and memories.
"Did you know... my mother asked me once whether I would like to have a red kimono, or a white one."
"Did she?"
"Yes."
With a gentle touch Larva caught Miyu's wandering hand in his own, his larger hand enveloping hers. Miyu raised her amber eyes questioningly, tilting her head back against Larva's legs and giving an enigmatic smile. Then, with a grace that came from years of practice, Miyu raised herself from her sitting position, her hand still firmly grasped in Larva's. She gave a high giggle that managed to pierce through the fog, twirled in her Guardian's arms, and finally settled with her back against Larva's chest. She reached out like a child, gathering the folds of Larva's black robe to drape around her own slim shoulders. The blue-haired Shinma raised his arms, firmly securing the Guardian in his embrace. His head bent down, pale blue locks spilling over thick black cloth to brush softly against doe-brown strands.
"And which did you pick?"
Miyu snuggled farther back into Larva's embrace, smiling into the darkness and mist. Her amber eyes flashed gold in the dim light.
"Neither."
Then the haunting flute melody was struck up again, and the shadows danced with the fog in the deepening twilight.
-- Owari --
-----------------------------
There is definite symbolism with the question of choosing between a white and red kimono. As stated in the series, Miyu's mother *did* ask her which Miyu would prefer. The red kimono is what prisoners traditionally wore (like those orange prison shirts), and a white kimono was reserved for the dead. Thus, the question is really whether Miyu would rather be imprisoned/trapped or dead. She, of course, said that she didn't want a new kimono at all.
