It's been far too long since I wrote something!
Summary: Digimon/Shounen-Ai retelling of Rapunzel, heavily based on a manga I read. (I'm so sad) Obviously AU. Um how to describe this? (It's times like these that I wish I had a muse!) The story of a boy kept in a tower? Actually, this is just the beginning, so there really isn't a boy or a tower. But Yama gets some cool robes! Um retelling of Rapunzel with a shounen-ai twist. That's better, ne?
Part: 1/3? I haven't really thought that far ahead. (Bad author, bad!)
Warnings: slight bastardization of Mimi and Koushiro a little bit of Koumi (possibly Mishiro it's not the main focus of the story), future Yamasuke (that's right... love between grown up Daisuke and the man who raised him... I'd suggest you don't read my fic if you have a problem with this (maa... I think it's sweet, though)) and maybe Daisuke/?
Thanks to Kezy for reading this over for me, encouraging me to write, and sending me your hilarious Seki-sama wallpaper. And of course I'd like to thank anyone else reading this, too. I love you!
Tower
By Six
--
There was a man and a woman. The man, Koushiro, was honest, hard working, and kind-faced and others had only the nicest of things to say about him, but if anything was his fault, it was the man's utter devotion to his wife, for whom he would do anything. The woman well, the woman, Mimi, was vain and cold, but the man loved and cherished her nonetheless and their home was a happy, if not somewhat superficial, one. Koushiro went out each day and earned their money and Mimi maintained a pristinely cleaned house and a semi-prosperous garden, from which she could partially see the exotic yards of the fortuneteller beside their house.
The steady routine went on for quiet sometime, until many months after the consummation of their marriage, the wife began showing signs of pregnancy, much to her chagrin.
"I'm too young for a child," she complained, "I'm too pretty to have a baby."
Kneeling down next to the side of their bed and holding his fair wife's hand, Koushiro calmed her fears with his soothing voice and words.
"I'll love you forever, dear wife, and nothing means more to me," He'd say, "I'll do anything you ask if you'll only be happy."
And for a time, she was. The same thing went on for months: the woman would complain and the man would calm her. Once again, they settled into a reasonably habitual lifestyle, until one day, the woman, heavy with child and more than fairly annoyed, snapped at her husband.
"If you'll do anything for me, then you'll find a way to ease the pains of this child! Everyday it hurts more than I can bear!" she yelled, her face flushing with anger.
"For you, I'll do anything, dear wife. I've heard the fortuneteller next door can treat illness. I'll see him for a cure to your pains," said Koushiro, rising from the bed and heading out the door. Carefully, he made his way to the house besides his own, noting that though they were in close proximity, the fortuneteller's garden was much more lush and flourishing than his wife's own.
It must be the magic I've heard the fortuneteller possesses, thought the man as he approached the door. Though they were next-door neighbors, Koushiro had never been to the fortuneteller's house, let alone seen what he looked like, though he had heard that the man controlled a great deal more magic than just fortune telling. A voice in the back of the man's head reminded him that he'd also been told the fortuneteller was a demon and could bring about curses and ill-will, but he ignored it. Anything for his wife.
Stopping to admire the intricate, knot-like designs painstakingly carved into the sign by the door (proclaiming the house to be "The Domain of Yamato Ishida, Fortuneteller"), the man didn't notice a moment later when the door was opened. Whatever Koushiro had been expecting the fortuneteller to look like, it was not the pale, ice-statuesque beauty that stood in the shadows of the door. He had skin so white it almost glowed, eyes as blue and frozen as the winter sky, and white-blond hair that slightly feathered around his shoulders.
"What is your business here?" asked the fortuneteller, his heavy glare directed at the man.
"My name is K-," started the man nervously.
Quickly interrupting, Yamato, his voice unemotional, said, "I did not ask your name. I only want to know your purpose for bothering me."
Koushiro looked down at his shoes, so out of place and brown in the lush green of the fortuneteller's yard.
"My wife is pregnant and in pain. I'd heard of your skills and hoped you'd have something to help her with the pains."
The fortuneteller regarded him coldly and then shut his door, leaving Koushiro to ponder if he had just been dismissed. The man had just been thinking of what to tell his wife when the door opened again and the fortuneteller appeared. From the billowing depths of his white robes, the magic-using man pulled out an apple, deeper red than any other apple Koushiro had ever seen before.
"Tell your wife to eat half of this apple. Only half; throw the other half away."
The fortuneteller slammed the door before the man could ask about payment.
When he returned home with the apple, his wife was less than thrilled, but she ate half anyway. The moment she bit through the delicate, deep red skin and into the sweet, innocent white of the fruit, the woman felt a strange sensation throughout her body. Immediately most of the pain was gone and Mimi was happy. The man was throwing out the other half of the apple when the woman stopped him.
"If half of an apple helped so much, then a full apple must surely cure all!" she exclaimed, greedily grabbing the rest of the apple from his hand. Ignoring her husband's protests, the woman consumed the rest of the apple selfishly. As predicted, all her pains went away, though Koushiro felt an uneasy chill pass through the room.
"That apple was better than any I'd ever had before. You've made me very happy, husband," said Mimi, falling back into a comfortable sleep. The man smiled.
That night, the woman dreamt of a tower, surrounded by apple trees through which peered a set of condemning, red eyes.
A week later, Mimi's pains were back and she asked her husband to see the fortuneteller again. The visit was much the same as the first, except this time, the fortuneteller gave the man only half an apple, the same dark red as the first.
"Tell your wife to eat half of this. Only half."
Yamato had shut the door before the man could ask about payment again.
When Mimi saw that Koushiro had only brought home half an apple, she became enraged.
"Can you do nothing right?" she accused, snatching the apple half and eating all of it despite warnings. Most of her pains went away, but the inside of her mouth felt raw and abused. A seed of unhappiness settled in her belly. Again, she dreamt of apple trees surrounding a tower taller than any other she had seen before, and eyes so red that they pierced her soul.
Week after week the woman's pains persisted and the man kept returning to the fortuneteller. As the apple parts got smaller and smaller, the roots of Mimi's unhappiness grew and spread throughout her body. Every night, her dreams were plagued with visions of the tower and a luminous pair of eyes as red as apples.
"Husband," she said one night, tossing fitfully in their bed, "You simply must get me more of those apples. I cannot bear the pain any longer!"
"I'll go back tomorrow," the man told his wife.
"No," she said angrily, "You'll go now! Steal me an apple from his gardens and make me happy!"
The man looked at the hurt and anger on his beloved wife's face and knew that he had to steal the fortuneteller's apples. In the darkness, he snuck from their yard into the thriving green of the fortuneteller's property. Koushiro had just wrapped his hands around the biggest, reddest apple on the tree and torn it from its stem when a voice from behind startled him.
"What are you doing?"
The voice was cold and emotionless. Koushiro recognized it as the fortuneteller's. He turned around and fell to his knees at Yamato's feet, immediately begging for mercy and fearing for the well being of his wife and himself.
"My wife was in so much pain! I'm so sorry, fortuneteller! Please forgive me and spare my life!"
"Spare your life?" the fortuneteller asked, a hint of surprise in his voice, "After you robbed me of the fruits of my seed? For this, I should claim the fruit of your seed: the child in your woman's womb!"
Koushiro hung his head in shame, "As you wish, fortuneteller. As long as you do not harm my wife and I, you may take my child at any time."
A flicker of emotion passed over Yamato's face, but he suppressed it, "And you believe this is a worthy punishment for stealing my apples?"
The red-haired man nodded solemnly, "Please, fortuneteller. Let it be enough."
"So it shall be."
With a final glare, the fortuneteller turned around and strode away from Koushiro's huddled form. Resignedly, the red-haired man stood and walked back to his own home, clutching the apple between his hands tightly. Just as he was about to open the front door, he heard the fortuneteller's icy voice trailing after him.
"Tell your wife that the child's name is Daisuke."
--
The moment Koushiro entered the house Mimi knew something was wrong.
"What's the matter, husband? Do you not have the apple?" she asked as he approached the bed, her eyes tracing his form.
"I have the apple, dear wife," he said sadly, holding up the fruit, "But the fortuneteller caught me stealing from him."
At his wife's expectant look, Koushiro told her of what had transpired in the fortuneteller's gardens. To his surprise, Mimi laughed loudly. For a moment, he entertained the thought that she was hysterical over the loss of their child.
"He's going to steal our child? Why should I care? I never wanted this child to begin with! What a stupid fortuneteller he is! Let me have that apple, husband, and then I can rest peacefully."
Koushiro stared at her incredulously, but did as she said. That night, the wife's dreams were plagued with resplendent red eyes that stared at her accusingly. The next morning, she gave birth to a son. Holding the boy for the first time, Mimi screamed and shoved the child back into the midwife's arms.
"It's a curse!" she accused piercingly, "That child is a curse!!"
Koushiro rushed towards the bed, taking his son from the midwife and trying to see what was wrong. The boy's eyes, seen hundreds of times in his mother's dreams, were as deep red as the setting sun.
Or the skin of an apple, Koushiro thought, trying to calm the wailing baby.
Later that evening, rocking quietly in a chair and holding the child Mimi refused to name ("The child has the eyes of a demon! Call it Rapunzel, for all I care!" she had shouted at him), Koushiro's thoughts drifted back to the night before.
"Daisuke seems as good a name as any, wouldn't you say?" he asked the baby, remembering the name the fortuneteller had given him. The red-haired child cooed quietly, vivid eyes halfway closed.
"Daisuke," Koushiro decided, staring at his son sadly, "The fruit of my seed."
TBC
I'll continue if anyone wants it. Comments, suggestions, and bribes are well received. *cough*