Fandom: Viewfinder
Title: Ingénu.
Pairing: Asami x Takaba
Rating: pg-13
Description: Asami remembers his past.
Disclaimer – Viewfinder does not belong to me, but to the gorgeously hot Yamane Ayano. (Yes, I've seen her in the flesh and it still makes me melt).
They call me frigid,
Someone whose eyes are losing life
to all the fighting,
In and out.
I hold my breath
as my lips become a single line,
Expressionless,
keeping everything simmering inside.
I walk out into the world,
and every day they force me
to pretend to act
not only fake,
but to be like them,
empty moving corpses,
following each other
knowing vitality is bleeding away
whenever we say the words,
"Yes, do as you please."
Yet…
And yet you said
you loved me
despite all the stains.
You must be either pure
Or insane like me.
Ingénu.
By Miyamoto Yui
Prologue – Their iced over pond.
Takaba doesn't know that I'm already awake.
Sitting on the side of the hotel bed, his hands lightly squeeze my shoulders for balance as he leans forward. His tongue licks my lips, sliding in between them to kiss me. The hem of his cotton shirt brushes up against my naked chest at the same time he helplessly pushes my tongue for a deeper kiss.
When he pulls away, he doesn't notice I'm opening my eyes. His neck is so delectable with his chin rising while gasping for air. He isn't aware that this is when I find him the most attractive, looking like a mermaid swimming in the ocean and coming up to the surface.
The sunlight from the window glows against his skin and when he gets up, the warmth dissipates along with him. Going to the desk for something, he rummages as quietly as he can. Then, the soft steps on the carpet become more and more distant, fading away after the click of the door.
Why do you appear whenever I least want you to?
Every time Takaba raises his chin confidently and turns away from me to walk out the door, I think of her.
Streams of straight luxuriant hair touched past her waist as she wore white pants, not dresses, as defiance and honor to him. Her whole body encapsulates all that we stand for, our Western-style house with our Japanese rules. With that young façade yet old mentality, her eyelashes hung low, eyes shadowed by the light coming in the long hallway.
Her socks rustled against the carpeted floor as she walked down the hallway full of handmade glass windows from the Meiji Period, far from grandfather's house in the old samurai quarters where the wooden doors and rain shutters were pushed aside to let the wind flow in.
In between these transparent rectangles, the sun caressed her back.
Something told me to run to her, but as soon as I took a step forward, my 'older brother' Nomura-san put his arm out to stop me.
Walking away from me between sun and shadow, she reached the end of the hall where his office was. She lifted her thin wrists covered with gold bangles. Gripping onto the knob, the bangles clinked together.
It was a sound too sweet to pronounce an execution.
She didn't even bother to look at me when she pushed the door to let herself inside.
My small hands wouldn't reach out to the doors where the guards stood because I was never allowed to show on my face what I was feeling inside.
And being seven, I could only watch. And wait, as always, for when they'd be done with their 'job' or 'business'.
Bang!
Behind the white door, something dropped to the floor with a loud thump.
In the movies, there's always a warning to the anticipation of danger or of an emergency. But in real life, we're not so fortunate.
For me, there were no horrific screams nor suffocation by surprise. Not even the familiar waves of whispers that floated around me.
Nothing but inhumane silence.
Swallowing everything around me, I hadn't known then that a single unforgiving moment had drowned my whole world.
But somehow, I knew one thing was for sure: My mother wasn't here any longer.
And two days later, that man came out of the room. He closed the door softly behind him, pulling the silver knob carefully like someone wanting a baby to continue its peaceful slumber.
The man faced the hallway and I saw the dried blood chafed away from his blouse. The flakes fluttered onto the floor like the leaves of the plum tree outside in the garden falling onto the snow.
When Father walked past me, he didn't notice me at all, refusing to acknowledge I was even there.
I desperately grabbed onto the knob and looked back to see if he would stop me from turning it.
He didn't.
I peered through the door and the room was as it always had been. The mahogany desk with the phone at the right hand corner. A larger pad of customized paper in the middle of it. The bookshelves lining the windows connected to the garden and three ivory couches surrounding a single black coffee table.
She was curled up on the sofa in front of me. Hugging a yellow pillow, she was sleeping on her side. As I peered over the couch, her face looked angelically tranquil.
For a moment, I deceived myself into thinking that there was nothing wrong…even with the metallic smell of blood in the air…
Until I circled around the couch and stood in front of it. The cushions were soaked in fresh crimson, dripping onto the carpet. Peeking from her side, I saw the hand marks from where he embraced her against him.
I couldn't lift up the pillow and my veins felt injected with anesthesia, becoming so numb that even my mind saw everything in slow motion with every blink. I ran out of the room, out the door, and into the garden.
My mind screamed as my lips remained thin lines.
All I could do was stare at the koi inside their iced over pond. Still, the surface glistened with the blur of tears.
From that time on, I never cried again.
Tsuzuku…/To be continued…
Author's note:
This idea has been within me for one year now and it would not stop tugging at me. I had no time to write it until now and the fact that when I first thought about this, I began to cry. Not just cry, but sob so much that it depressed me for a few days. It was very scary. I actually do not know why I had such a strong reaction to a single thought, just wanting to get a closer look at Asami.
For a long time, I stopped writing. I thought I had totally lost my ability to write and then a very kind reader named dawnraptor who said they read everything even if English wasn't their native language. I cannot tell you how moved I was that I dedicate this to you. Your words gave me courage to keep going so I started to write again.
I hope that I am able to capture the humanity of Asami that you said I could see.
Thank you very much for reading!
Love,
Yui
8/29/2016 8:58 PM – Los Angeles
8/30/2016 12:58 PM - Tokyo