Clipped Songs

He was back on the orbiting rock outside Konron. Wind whistled past his ears, singing a song into his head. He buried his face into his huddled knees, his wings flapping behind him.

Why is the wind so cold now?

He peered up from arms hugging knees, blue-violet eyes hazy with tears, staring far ahead at the soft green of Konron Mountain, at the three red words inscribed into the green. Memories flitted back to him like hundreds and hundreds of colorful butterflies, the feathery wings caressing him, covering him with their warmth….

Warmth.

I wish there's something like that for me. I feel lonely. I often counted stars at night from my window. There are so many stars out there, and so bright they are. I always wonder are all of them as lonely as me?

I am scared. But I won't tell anyone I am scared. I am scared of loneliness.

I am afraid.

I just need someone.

Anyone.

They all think that I am happy because I smile so much. No one could understand how much I long for someone to trust in, to smile truly to, to give myself to. I would do anything just to hear…

I love you

Anything.

Burying himself into his arms, Fugen begin to weep.









--

So, Youzen thought as he unzipped his upper garment, pushing it back until the ugly bruise was revealed on the shoulder of his mirrored image. This is how much you love him, Susuu.

Snickering to himself, Youzen pulled back his garment and zipped it up deftly. A certain gloating rose in his stomach, and it felt good. He will visit Fugen Shinjin tonight and comfort the poor sennin.

Youzen laughed softly and pushed back a stray strand of long hair. He always managed to have his way, no matter what method he used. It was the prize that mattered to him, not the process. A hundred men can die and Youzen would not even care.

His susuu can die of heartbreak, and he will not even care.

--

Rough fabric suddenly touched his cheek, making him look up.

'Bou-chan!' His voice wavered and he tried to move away. Taikoubou knelt in front of him, the expression of concern heavy on his face.

'Fugen, you are crying.' He reached out to brush the tears dry.

A hand reached out and clutched the sennin's shoulder, gently squeezing it. Fugen shivered. Another hand came, pushing tousled locks of blue hair from the trembling blue-violet eyes.

What does Bou-chan want?

Fugen's heart pumped. The wind cackled and rose to play with the doushi's clothing, making the blue garment flap wildly. Taikoubou was silent. He just stared at Fugen, his hand slowly sweeping the sennin's hair over and over again.

'Bou-chan?' Fugen's voice came out in a squeak, an almost desperate squeak.

'Fugen, why …'

Fugen's fingers tightened into fists. His heart raced. He opened his mouth to say something but Taikoubou spoke first.

'Why did you forgot to make that quilt you promised for me?'

--

'I did not forget, Bou-chan.' Back in his room, Fugen took out a finished pastel-colored quilt from the wicker chest and showed it to Taikoubou.

The doushi's eyes lit up and he flung open the quilt, admiring the colors and the softness of the material, and the attentiveness Fugen shown, matching the colors he knew Taikoubou liked. And it smelt good too.

Like violet flowers.

As Taikoubou chatted and praised the quality of the quilt to a glowing Fugen, scheming thoughts ran through his mind.

So, this is why you want to take him from me, Youzen.

Taikoubou smirked inwardlys while exclaiming Fugen was marvelous to stuff the quilt with goose feathers. The sennin's cheeks blushed pink at the load of praise Taikoubou was heaping on him.

You are very scared of losing, Youzen.

This time, you lose.

--