Kasou ~ Flower Burial
by littlemaiko
Disclaimer: Gensou Suikoden 2 and all its elements are properties of KCE. Title is taken from "Kasou", property of L'arc~en~Ciel. Stealing is prohibited.
Note: Hisui is the name of Hero from Suikoden 2.
:: Chapter 3 ::
Camus tossed and turned on the bed, his body stirring from depths of sleep out of a habit. With a sigh, he slitted the amber eyes open and looked into the dim darkness of the room. It was yet before sunrise. Mechanically getting out of the sheets and loose-fitting white pants which he'd worn to sleep, he went into the shower room. He had to tidy himself up for the daily visit to the ill-fated stone corridor.
A cold shower, shave and quick change into the red uniform took only a few minutes. After scrubbing at his short, light-brown locks with a towel, he took up Uriah from the rack by the door and left his quarters. He didn't like waking early; his mind was hazy, legs heavy as though they were stuffed with iron and his back slouched slightly. He knew that it wasn't just the early hours making him sullen. Reminder of the tragedy from a year ago was doing its job. However, as he approached the dark staircase leading up to his destination, he straightened gloomily. He had solemn respect for the events that had transpired there. To be less than a knight at the place of his lady's demise was unacceptable.
Stone-tiled steps were free of dust, thanks to Camus' daily trips. Only the faint sound of his own hard-leather boots echoed in the narrow walkway, filling his ears. The actual auditory sense dubbed with that of many months ago, shrill cries of dying men and sharp noise of clattering metals carrying smell of blood. At the top of the ascending stairs, the lean knight stopped and closed his eyes briefly. He hadn't been there by Nanami's side, but he could imagine what had happened. Gorudo's barking command, archers taking aim and one slender girl fending off the projectiles with graceful maneuvers of the three-section rod.
//...Lady Nanami...//
The Red Knight cut off the replay of past events before a sharp arrowhead embedded deep into Nanami's body. He couldn't bear to think so far. Resuming his even treading, he entered through the doorless sill into the long corridor.
Camus' warm-amber eyes widened slightly when he saw someone kneeling over the spot of his daily homage. Unable to see very clearly in the twilight, he approached carefully. Shoulder-length brown hair and long, white nightgown came into his view. Although the attire was different from what he remembered, he recognized the girl when he was about fifteen steps away from her.
"My Lady..." Thinking that he must be hallucinating, Camus squeezed his eyes shut once and reopened them. The solid apparition was still there, now turning to face him. The rounded face which met him was lively and smiling, far from what one would expect of a ghost.
"Good morning, Camus." Nanami's mezzo-soprano reflected well off of stone walls. Flowery scent filled the corridor, and that was the end of Camus' waking dream.
**********
Nanami smiled to the handsome knight, feigning a cheerful mood. She had been unable to sleep; her feet had taken her to this corridor, lured like a sleepwalker. She had been reflecting over her memories for hours, more and more becoming sure of her own death. She had died here, in Hisui's arms. However, it was also true that she was alive now. She had a pulse, beating heart and breathing lungs. Camus had come unexpected, but she was glad for the interruption. She would have gone crazy if she had pondered on.
"Lady Nanami." The amber-haired man returned the smile, somewhat awkwardly. It was the first time Nanami had seen him look so unsure.
"What is the matter, Camus?" Rising from the kneeling position, the girl let the dress-like nightwear flare about her bare ankles. She held the front hem of her low-neck gown with both hands, not-so-discreetly hiding the small crease of her bosom. Faint scent of cherry blossom clung to her person, but she did not notice it. She had gotten too used to carrying the sweet aroma of spring season.
"I am ashamed to say... that I thought you were a ghost. I am sorry, Lady Nanami. Morning is not my time of the day." Camus approached with a more genuine smile, taking off his scarlet jacket and wrapping it about Nanami's shoulders.
"Thank you." Holding on to the given cover, the oriental girl looked up to Camus. "...You are not going to ask why I was here?"
"It is not chivalrous to probe into a lady's mind." The knight returned smoothly, diverting the course of conversation. "May I escort you back to the room?" He offered a right hand in his usual mannerism.
"Do you remember, Camu, that you asked me the same thing under the cherry tree?" Nanami placed her naked hand over Camus' gloved one.
"Yes, I do. And we promised..." The handsome profile shadowed slightly with somberness. "I am glad that you kept your end of the promise, Lady Nanami."
"...I am, too." Falling quiet, Nanami let the older man lead their way down the stair corridor and stairway. She was aware of the firm hold upon her hand, not the soft one that she'd felt on the night of the cherry tree but a strong one which gave a sense of protection. Slender, long fingers were curling about her palm tightly, almost hurting her. She knew then that her death had scarred Camus inside.
//...I cannot tell him. I hurt Camus enough already. I cannot burden him with my problem.//
Dual sound of hard-soled boots and soft bare feet over the tiled floor mingled with the noise of the stirring Rockaxe palace. Nanami kept her eyes lowered, her free hand holding the the oversized knight's uniform jacket in place.
**********
Camus opened the door for the teenage girl, finally freeing her hand which he had been holding captive for the duration of their walk. He realized from the slight reddening of the small hand that he'd been holding too strongly. Just as he opened his mouth to give the utmost apology, Nanami shook her head and held out the jacket to him.
"Thank you for the escort, Camus. And... I'm sorry for many things."
The rounded brown eyes bore into Camus' amber ones briefly, then quickly disappeared behind the quietly closing door. He sighed, cursing his own shortcoming for making Nanami feel guilty. With a heavy heart, he pulled on the red jacket and placed the cuffs in place as was proper. In the process, he caught a small stain of red on his glove.
//This is...?//
The white cloth on Camus' right hand had a vivid red spot on it, near the base of his medicine finger. He could tell right away that it was a bloodstain, but where he had acquired it, he couldn't fathom. He had his gloves washed and pressed daily, and this was a fresh pair he had picked out this morning. If he couldn't remember an instance where blood would be involved, it left only one explanation.
"Lady Nanami...?" Camus stared hard at the now-closed door. He was tempted to knock, but he suppressed the urge. He would be seen as over-concerned. The amount of blood was minimal, after all. Making a mental note to inquire the girl during the breakfast, he turned to head for his office.
Only when the Red Knight reached the wider section of the corridor did he notice the strong scent of cherry blossom that filled the area he had just exited. The sweet, pleasantly distinct aroma was spreading like the hold the spring was beginning to have over Rockaxe. Thinking of the passing season, he imagined the cherry tree in the outer courtyard of Camelot Castle to be in full bloom now. And indeed, it was...
**********
Lying back down on the disturbed coverlet of the bed, Nanami raised her right hand over her eyes and looked at it for a long moment. It was the hand Camus had held a few times in their acquintance. She knew that he did the same to all women, but she felt special whenever he offered to escort her around by the hold of that hand. The texture of the Red Knight's gloved hand was vividly engraved in her memory, mostly because it was a sensation she remembered from the night of their promise under the tree.
"Camus..." The brown-haired girl whispered in a hush, curling her fingers as though her hand was being held. She wanted Camus to lead her by the same hand out of this state of strange living death. "But I can't..." With a sigh, she clenched her small hand into a fist in her gaze.
A droplet of moisture fell upon Nanami's face, next to her nose. She wiped at it with her left hand and was not surprised to find her fingers come off red. The wound on her right index finger was open. The scent of cherry and iron was expected, as was the unnatural, sugarly taste of the red liquid when she licked at the ever-present cut.
//...Am I alive? Or am I dead? If there is such thing as the midway, that must be where I am right now.//
Loosely holding the eternally injured hand to her chest, Nanami closed her eyes and slipped into a short session of dark sleep before the breakfast.
To be Continued
by littlemaiko
Disclaimer: Gensou Suikoden 2 and all its elements are properties of KCE. Title is taken from "Kasou", property of L'arc~en~Ciel. Stealing is prohibited.
Note: Hisui is the name of Hero from Suikoden 2.
:: Chapter 3 ::
Camus tossed and turned on the bed, his body stirring from depths of sleep out of a habit. With a sigh, he slitted the amber eyes open and looked into the dim darkness of the room. It was yet before sunrise. Mechanically getting out of the sheets and loose-fitting white pants which he'd worn to sleep, he went into the shower room. He had to tidy himself up for the daily visit to the ill-fated stone corridor.
A cold shower, shave and quick change into the red uniform took only a few minutes. After scrubbing at his short, light-brown locks with a towel, he took up Uriah from the rack by the door and left his quarters. He didn't like waking early; his mind was hazy, legs heavy as though they were stuffed with iron and his back slouched slightly. He knew that it wasn't just the early hours making him sullen. Reminder of the tragedy from a year ago was doing its job. However, as he approached the dark staircase leading up to his destination, he straightened gloomily. He had solemn respect for the events that had transpired there. To be less than a knight at the place of his lady's demise was unacceptable.
Stone-tiled steps were free of dust, thanks to Camus' daily trips. Only the faint sound of his own hard-leather boots echoed in the narrow walkway, filling his ears. The actual auditory sense dubbed with that of many months ago, shrill cries of dying men and sharp noise of clattering metals carrying smell of blood. At the top of the ascending stairs, the lean knight stopped and closed his eyes briefly. He hadn't been there by Nanami's side, but he could imagine what had happened. Gorudo's barking command, archers taking aim and one slender girl fending off the projectiles with graceful maneuvers of the three-section rod.
//...Lady Nanami...//
The Red Knight cut off the replay of past events before a sharp arrowhead embedded deep into Nanami's body. He couldn't bear to think so far. Resuming his even treading, he entered through the doorless sill into the long corridor.
Camus' warm-amber eyes widened slightly when he saw someone kneeling over the spot of his daily homage. Unable to see very clearly in the twilight, he approached carefully. Shoulder-length brown hair and long, white nightgown came into his view. Although the attire was different from what he remembered, he recognized the girl when he was about fifteen steps away from her.
"My Lady..." Thinking that he must be hallucinating, Camus squeezed his eyes shut once and reopened them. The solid apparition was still there, now turning to face him. The rounded face which met him was lively and smiling, far from what one would expect of a ghost.
"Good morning, Camus." Nanami's mezzo-soprano reflected well off of stone walls. Flowery scent filled the corridor, and that was the end of Camus' waking dream.
**********
Nanami smiled to the handsome knight, feigning a cheerful mood. She had been unable to sleep; her feet had taken her to this corridor, lured like a sleepwalker. She had been reflecting over her memories for hours, more and more becoming sure of her own death. She had died here, in Hisui's arms. However, it was also true that she was alive now. She had a pulse, beating heart and breathing lungs. Camus had come unexpected, but she was glad for the interruption. She would have gone crazy if she had pondered on.
"Lady Nanami." The amber-haired man returned the smile, somewhat awkwardly. It was the first time Nanami had seen him look so unsure.
"What is the matter, Camus?" Rising from the kneeling position, the girl let the dress-like nightwear flare about her bare ankles. She held the front hem of her low-neck gown with both hands, not-so-discreetly hiding the small crease of her bosom. Faint scent of cherry blossom clung to her person, but she did not notice it. She had gotten too used to carrying the sweet aroma of spring season.
"I am ashamed to say... that I thought you were a ghost. I am sorry, Lady Nanami. Morning is not my time of the day." Camus approached with a more genuine smile, taking off his scarlet jacket and wrapping it about Nanami's shoulders.
"Thank you." Holding on to the given cover, the oriental girl looked up to Camus. "...You are not going to ask why I was here?"
"It is not chivalrous to probe into a lady's mind." The knight returned smoothly, diverting the course of conversation. "May I escort you back to the room?" He offered a right hand in his usual mannerism.
"Do you remember, Camu, that you asked me the same thing under the cherry tree?" Nanami placed her naked hand over Camus' gloved one.
"Yes, I do. And we promised..." The handsome profile shadowed slightly with somberness. "I am glad that you kept your end of the promise, Lady Nanami."
"...I am, too." Falling quiet, Nanami let the older man lead their way down the stair corridor and stairway. She was aware of the firm hold upon her hand, not the soft one that she'd felt on the night of the cherry tree but a strong one which gave a sense of protection. Slender, long fingers were curling about her palm tightly, almost hurting her. She knew then that her death had scarred Camus inside.
//...I cannot tell him. I hurt Camus enough already. I cannot burden him with my problem.//
Dual sound of hard-soled boots and soft bare feet over the tiled floor mingled with the noise of the stirring Rockaxe palace. Nanami kept her eyes lowered, her free hand holding the the oversized knight's uniform jacket in place.
**********
Camus opened the door for the teenage girl, finally freeing her hand which he had been holding captive for the duration of their walk. He realized from the slight reddening of the small hand that he'd been holding too strongly. Just as he opened his mouth to give the utmost apology, Nanami shook her head and held out the jacket to him.
"Thank you for the escort, Camus. And... I'm sorry for many things."
The rounded brown eyes bore into Camus' amber ones briefly, then quickly disappeared behind the quietly closing door. He sighed, cursing his own shortcoming for making Nanami feel guilty. With a heavy heart, he pulled on the red jacket and placed the cuffs in place as was proper. In the process, he caught a small stain of red on his glove.
//This is...?//
The white cloth on Camus' right hand had a vivid red spot on it, near the base of his medicine finger. He could tell right away that it was a bloodstain, but where he had acquired it, he couldn't fathom. He had his gloves washed and pressed daily, and this was a fresh pair he had picked out this morning. If he couldn't remember an instance where blood would be involved, it left only one explanation.
"Lady Nanami...?" Camus stared hard at the now-closed door. He was tempted to knock, but he suppressed the urge. He would be seen as over-concerned. The amount of blood was minimal, after all. Making a mental note to inquire the girl during the breakfast, he turned to head for his office.
Only when the Red Knight reached the wider section of the corridor did he notice the strong scent of cherry blossom that filled the area he had just exited. The sweet, pleasantly distinct aroma was spreading like the hold the spring was beginning to have over Rockaxe. Thinking of the passing season, he imagined the cherry tree in the outer courtyard of Camelot Castle to be in full bloom now. And indeed, it was...
**********
Lying back down on the disturbed coverlet of the bed, Nanami raised her right hand over her eyes and looked at it for a long moment. It was the hand Camus had held a few times in their acquintance. She knew that he did the same to all women, but she felt special whenever he offered to escort her around by the hold of that hand. The texture of the Red Knight's gloved hand was vividly engraved in her memory, mostly because it was a sensation she remembered from the night of their promise under the tree.
"Camus..." The brown-haired girl whispered in a hush, curling her fingers as though her hand was being held. She wanted Camus to lead her by the same hand out of this state of strange living death. "But I can't..." With a sigh, she clenched her small hand into a fist in her gaze.
A droplet of moisture fell upon Nanami's face, next to her nose. She wiped at it with her left hand and was not surprised to find her fingers come off red. The wound on her right index finger was open. The scent of cherry and iron was expected, as was the unnatural, sugarly taste of the red liquid when she licked at the ever-present cut.
//...Am I alive? Or am I dead? If there is such thing as the midway, that must be where I am right now.//
Loosely holding the eternally injured hand to her chest, Nanami closed her eyes and slipped into a short session of dark sleep before the breakfast.
To be Continued
