Song without a Song
The day had started off, sunny filled with fluffy clouds. The boy had slept in, remembering the phantasm of events that had left him reeling. His Aniki, his beloved Aniki was gone. He lay in bed, tears streaming down his face. Nakago would be angry, not caring he had lost a vital part of himself. Yui-sama would be cold, angry that he wasn't there. Maybe, she would be happy that 'boy' wouldn't be there to chatter endlessly to her. He rolled out of bed, without any supposed grace, acting with the awkward grace of a boy just leaving the last stretches of adolescence behind.
His heart ached, as if it had a born a wound, aching with movement. Standing near toppled his in tears. He and his brother had shared this room since Nakago had brought them there. Shunkaku, now Suboshi remembered waking up to his brother's flute. The sounds were spring with all it's joy, summer's finest day complete with the sounds of children laughing in the warm rays. Yet, it held winter's shocking cold and painful sigh. Even, the arid, travail of autumn had appeared.
'Aniki', his throat ached, pained with the mere thought of his brother. Remembering Aniki's love could only bring the thought of a much more painful subject. This, he remembered more acutely than any other did. Sharp and Vivid, as if it had been a perfectly cut shard of ice. Yet, unlike ice, this image brought forth memories of fire, heat and pain. Blood spilled sounds of horses, and screams. The grim memory chase away all other thoughts and the lonely boy never remembered falling to the ground.
Night had found Bu Shunkaku lying on the floor, his hands over his eyes. The cold stone had held the boy since the nightmare had set in. After the dream came chasing away the comforts of the sun. He couldn't stop remembering. Even through his hands and closed eyes the images came to him. Tears traced familiar lines down his face. He wasn't afraid, it was over, he tried to tell himself, but he was, and it wasn't.
His mind screamed, 'Look' it told him, 'See the smoke, the fire; Taste the dirt and ash; smell, acrid is the smoke and death all around you! Breathe it in, cough your throat raw. Feel the stinging tears and sparks in your eyes, the agonies that left your heart bleeding. Hear your own ragged breath and the screams, remember the screams!' it cried. Tears soaked his clothing, as ragged as it had been then. Smudging the dirt and ash, his eyes, bloodshot and panic-stricken stared blindly into ceiling, as he hugged his arms around him.
"'bachan!" the words were caught in his throat, "'bachan.." he repeated quietly. "'tochan." His voice carried no farther then his room. "Aniki!!!" His voice echoed through the room, but in his heart, he knew Aniki wouldn't come. Laughter echoed through his ears, scaring him more, but, it was that cold laughter that slowed his heart, closed his eyes, stopped the perspiration, but, his mind, still, lay in turmoil. Cold was the moonlight that would hold vigil, this night, hard was the floor that would hold him during his pain, and silent was the voice that would comfort him.
Please send me comments/reveiw it, if you hated it, couldn't stand the imagery, hated how I spelled Suboshi, I don't care!! Fushigi Yuugi doesn't belong to me... blah! you know the entire disclaimer! Just hold me to it!
The day had started off, sunny filled with fluffy clouds. The boy had slept in, remembering the phantasm of events that had left him reeling. His Aniki, his beloved Aniki was gone. He lay in bed, tears streaming down his face. Nakago would be angry, not caring he had lost a vital part of himself. Yui-sama would be cold, angry that he wasn't there. Maybe, she would be happy that 'boy' wouldn't be there to chatter endlessly to her. He rolled out of bed, without any supposed grace, acting with the awkward grace of a boy just leaving the last stretches of adolescence behind.
His heart ached, as if it had a born a wound, aching with movement. Standing near toppled his in tears. He and his brother had shared this room since Nakago had brought them there. Shunkaku, now Suboshi remembered waking up to his brother's flute. The sounds were spring with all it's joy, summer's finest day complete with the sounds of children laughing in the warm rays. Yet, it held winter's shocking cold and painful sigh. Even, the arid, travail of autumn had appeared.
'Aniki', his throat ached, pained with the mere thought of his brother. Remembering Aniki's love could only bring the thought of a much more painful subject. This, he remembered more acutely than any other did. Sharp and Vivid, as if it had been a perfectly cut shard of ice. Yet, unlike ice, this image brought forth memories of fire, heat and pain. Blood spilled sounds of horses, and screams. The grim memory chase away all other thoughts and the lonely boy never remembered falling to the ground.
Night had found Bu Shunkaku lying on the floor, his hands over his eyes. The cold stone had held the boy since the nightmare had set in. After the dream came chasing away the comforts of the sun. He couldn't stop remembering. Even through his hands and closed eyes the images came to him. Tears traced familiar lines down his face. He wasn't afraid, it was over, he tried to tell himself, but he was, and it wasn't.
His mind screamed, 'Look' it told him, 'See the smoke, the fire; Taste the dirt and ash; smell, acrid is the smoke and death all around you! Breathe it in, cough your throat raw. Feel the stinging tears and sparks in your eyes, the agonies that left your heart bleeding. Hear your own ragged breath and the screams, remember the screams!' it cried. Tears soaked his clothing, as ragged as it had been then. Smudging the dirt and ash, his eyes, bloodshot and panic-stricken stared blindly into ceiling, as he hugged his arms around him.
"'bachan!" the words were caught in his throat, "'bachan.." he repeated quietly. "'tochan." His voice carried no farther then his room. "Aniki!!!" His voice echoed through the room, but in his heart, he knew Aniki wouldn't come. Laughter echoed through his ears, scaring him more, but, it was that cold laughter that slowed his heart, closed his eyes, stopped the perspiration, but, his mind, still, lay in turmoil. Cold was the moonlight that would hold vigil, this night, hard was the floor that would hold him during his pain, and silent was the voice that would comfort him.
Please send me comments/reveiw it, if you hated it, couldn't stand the imagery, hated how I spelled Suboshi, I don't care!! Fushigi Yuugi doesn't belong to me... blah! you know the entire disclaimer! Just hold me to it!