DISCLAIMER: All elements of Suikoden series belong to Konami. Fanfiction belongs to littlemaiko. Stealing is prohibited.
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The Snow Covered with Peonies :: 4
by littlemaiko
Dreaming proved difficult when one suffered too much pain. Luca cast away the sleep altogether and slitted his dark eyes open, not expecting to see what he saw. Plain, wooden ceiling hung over his vision instead of a white, canvas-fabric tent of the military troops or the glass chandelier of the L'Renouille palace. He shifted his head to see to the sides, and found a boy in green bandana whom he recognized.
"You..."
// The demon of beheaded peonies... //
The title that sprang in Luca's mind suited the Asian boy well. The lithe youth still wore the same faded-red tunic and bandana, his light-colored eyes devoid of expressions. He carried no flower now, instead occupying his gloved hands with a roll of white bandage. He had Luca's right hand on his lap, tending to numerous cuts etched over the muscular arm.
"I'm almost done. Stay still, Luca."
"Where is this?" Luca asked, his voice coming out weaker than ever. He did not have the full grasp of the situation just yet. From the feel of thin coverlet over his body, he figured that he was nude and wrapped in bandages here and there. He could see the entire room just with a circular movement of his gaze; the wooden room served as a house, a small cot of logs furnished with just enough to distinguish it from a deserted storage. There were windows, only two of them and both too small to let much sun into the space.
"The place where I eat and sleep."
The soft voice of the youth almost did not reach Luca's ears. "How far is it from L'Renouille? Or Muse?"
"That doesn't matter. You won't be leaving here for a long while." Having finished with the patching job, the boy gently placed Luca's right arm on the bed.
A terrible frown dressed the Highlander's face, but the boy shrugged the look away in complete nonchalance. No one had ever behaved in such fashion before Luca; the indifference, the utter lack of fear and even seeming courage or other bravery, bothered the prince.
"Who are you?" Luca demanded with a glare.
"That doesn't matter, either, but if you need a name... call me Kohaku." With that, the slender youth stood from the simple wooden chair he had placed next to the bed to tend to his captive.
"Kohaku... Kohaku McDohl." Luca recalled the name of the famous hero of the Toran Republic. The revelation explained much of the boy's strength and noble air carried by him. However, the prince could not place the famed name with the ghost-like boy. There was no trace of heroic charisma inside of the Kohaku before his eyes nor the valiant light of a righteous revolutionary.
"My name travels far, I suppose. Kohaku McDohl, the hero of Liberation War." Chuckling without glee, Kohaku dragged the chair to a matching wooden table without any decoration. He didn't speak to Luca, didn't even look at him, as he went to the tiny closet to the side of the room to change into a simple shirt and pants. The red tunic he had cast off had large stains of deeper crimson, obviously spots of blood.
// My blood. Did he carry me here? //
Luca pondered in the boredom that befell him. Kohaku showed no interest in him; stretching a few times like a child his physical appearance made him seem to be, the boy slipped off his gloves and sat against the wall next to the bed. He rested his head on the tucked knees and fell motionless.
Understanding that Kohaku had given him the only bed available, Luca watched the boy fall asleep. He could tell by the soft breathing sound he heard; the lack of alarm almost made him scoff, but the young McDohl truly had no need to be alert. Although it made him bitter to admit it, Luca knew that he'd cause no trouble for Kohaku with his injuries.
// Hah, I will get him sooner or later. //
The thought triggered the memory of the conversation right before he had passed out, making Luca cease his beginning snicker. Kohaku had bargain with him, that he'd be saved in return for killing the boy in a match. Furrowing his dark brows, the Mad Prince forgot his pains and wondered why the youth would want to die. Death was a coward's way out, or so Luca had always thought. He had sought revenge instead when the tragedy at Muse with his mother occurred. Of course, suicide had appealed to him at a younger age, but...
"Why do you wish to die?"
Kohaku looked up, surprising Luca, who had assumed the other to be asleep. "I'm tired of breathing."
Luca swallowed any mocking comments he might have had for someone else. The oriental youth meant what he said; there was a resolution in those light-brown eyes which the prince had never seen before in those he had slain. Kohaku's gaze reflected a deep longing for the eternal rest.
"That all you ask of me, then. To kill you." The wolf-like prince licked at his lips, directing his attention to the ceiling, although he found nothing of interest there.
"I can't ask you for more, Luca. If you grant me death, I will forever be indebted to you."
For the first time, Luca saw the boy smile. No, his eyes were turned away from the young face, but he felt the lightless smile in Kohaku's voice. He knew that the smile would have reminded him of fallen peonies had he seen it; just like the beautiful flower cut off from its source of life and awaiting to wither.
TO BE CONTINUED
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The Snow Covered with Peonies :: 4
by littlemaiko
Dreaming proved difficult when one suffered too much pain. Luca cast away the sleep altogether and slitted his dark eyes open, not expecting to see what he saw. Plain, wooden ceiling hung over his vision instead of a white, canvas-fabric tent of the military troops or the glass chandelier of the L'Renouille palace. He shifted his head to see to the sides, and found a boy in green bandana whom he recognized.
"You..."
// The demon of beheaded peonies... //
The title that sprang in Luca's mind suited the Asian boy well. The lithe youth still wore the same faded-red tunic and bandana, his light-colored eyes devoid of expressions. He carried no flower now, instead occupying his gloved hands with a roll of white bandage. He had Luca's right hand on his lap, tending to numerous cuts etched over the muscular arm.
"I'm almost done. Stay still, Luca."
"Where is this?" Luca asked, his voice coming out weaker than ever. He did not have the full grasp of the situation just yet. From the feel of thin coverlet over his body, he figured that he was nude and wrapped in bandages here and there. He could see the entire room just with a circular movement of his gaze; the wooden room served as a house, a small cot of logs furnished with just enough to distinguish it from a deserted storage. There were windows, only two of them and both too small to let much sun into the space.
"The place where I eat and sleep."
The soft voice of the youth almost did not reach Luca's ears. "How far is it from L'Renouille? Or Muse?"
"That doesn't matter. You won't be leaving here for a long while." Having finished with the patching job, the boy gently placed Luca's right arm on the bed.
A terrible frown dressed the Highlander's face, but the boy shrugged the look away in complete nonchalance. No one had ever behaved in such fashion before Luca; the indifference, the utter lack of fear and even seeming courage or other bravery, bothered the prince.
"Who are you?" Luca demanded with a glare.
"That doesn't matter, either, but if you need a name... call me Kohaku." With that, the slender youth stood from the simple wooden chair he had placed next to the bed to tend to his captive.
"Kohaku... Kohaku McDohl." Luca recalled the name of the famous hero of the Toran Republic. The revelation explained much of the boy's strength and noble air carried by him. However, the prince could not place the famed name with the ghost-like boy. There was no trace of heroic charisma inside of the Kohaku before his eyes nor the valiant light of a righteous revolutionary.
"My name travels far, I suppose. Kohaku McDohl, the hero of Liberation War." Chuckling without glee, Kohaku dragged the chair to a matching wooden table without any decoration. He didn't speak to Luca, didn't even look at him, as he went to the tiny closet to the side of the room to change into a simple shirt and pants. The red tunic he had cast off had large stains of deeper crimson, obviously spots of blood.
// My blood. Did he carry me here? //
Luca pondered in the boredom that befell him. Kohaku showed no interest in him; stretching a few times like a child his physical appearance made him seem to be, the boy slipped off his gloves and sat against the wall next to the bed. He rested his head on the tucked knees and fell motionless.
Understanding that Kohaku had given him the only bed available, Luca watched the boy fall asleep. He could tell by the soft breathing sound he heard; the lack of alarm almost made him scoff, but the young McDohl truly had no need to be alert. Although it made him bitter to admit it, Luca knew that he'd cause no trouble for Kohaku with his injuries.
// Hah, I will get him sooner or later. //
The thought triggered the memory of the conversation right before he had passed out, making Luca cease his beginning snicker. Kohaku had bargain with him, that he'd be saved in return for killing the boy in a match. Furrowing his dark brows, the Mad Prince forgot his pains and wondered why the youth would want to die. Death was a coward's way out, or so Luca had always thought. He had sought revenge instead when the tragedy at Muse with his mother occurred. Of course, suicide had appealed to him at a younger age, but...
"Why do you wish to die?"
Kohaku looked up, surprising Luca, who had assumed the other to be asleep. "I'm tired of breathing."
Luca swallowed any mocking comments he might have had for someone else. The oriental youth meant what he said; there was a resolution in those light-brown eyes which the prince had never seen before in those he had slain. Kohaku's gaze reflected a deep longing for the eternal rest.
"That all you ask of me, then. To kill you." The wolf-like prince licked at his lips, directing his attention to the ceiling, although he found nothing of interest there.
"I can't ask you for more, Luca. If you grant me death, I will forever be indebted to you."
For the first time, Luca saw the boy smile. No, his eyes were turned away from the young face, but he felt the lightless smile in Kohaku's voice. He knew that the smile would have reminded him of fallen peonies had he seen it; just like the beautiful flower cut off from its source of life and awaiting to wither.
TO BE CONTINUED
