A/N: Written as a challenge fic for temps_mort on lj; the first Sano/Kenshin I've written that's not a total drabblet. In other words, we've gone beyond 300 words! Yaay! ^_^
"Under the Trees"
I walk over the hill, and below me the spring trees flower. The cherry blooms pale pink next to reddish-purple plum; from a distance, they look like hazy red lace. I catch a glimpse of you underneath the branches, bright gi and bright hair melting into the blossoms. Your trousers are a white trunk, rippling in the late afternoon breeze.
You sit, and I creep closer. You brush an auburn lock of hair out of your face, the red that looks so gaijin turning into a streak in the wind. You pull your sword out of its sheath and lay it on your lap, and then you tuck a hand into the front of your gi and study the sword. You look beautiful, bangs hiding your velvet eyes as you stare.
I creep even closer. Just to be near you, I think; it is worth this silence. Watching you under the pink and purple trees is so close to bliss. You finger the sword, turning it over in your lap. You mouth something, and I lose it to the wind. I move closer, and you - still oblivious to my presence - murmur it again.
"Battousai."
Once again, even among the flowers, the red-clad rurouni thinks only of scarlet, of blood; of his stained sword and stained hands. Don't think that no one notices, and don't think that we don't care. Do you relive each death in your mind? I would ask, if only I weren't afraid to hear the answer. Afraid to hear "yes." It would hurt me to know, to have confirmed, the extent of what your memory puts you through. I know it on an intuitive level, but to hear it from you would be to have it come alive. Although, if it would take away some of that crimson-tinged pain, I would listen until the end of the world. More than anything, I hate to see you alone and suffering.
You run your hand down the blade, testing the edge - not the blunted edge, but the one that is sharp and deadly. You draw your hand back quickly, holding it to your pale lips. "Kuso," you mutter. Did you even realize that you were running your hand along the sword? You were off in your dream-world again, back in the past.
"Hurt yourself, Kenshin?" I stand in front of you now, hands in my pockets. You look up, startled, and then plaster that stupid grin back on your face.
"Ah, Sano!" You smile at me, a smile so fake that it pains me. I sit down by you and take your cut and bleeding hand.
"You have to be careful there. The blade *is* sharp, you dumb rurouni."
I tear off the tip of the scarlet bandage on my arm, and wrap it around your hand. The blood soaking through barely even stains. You glance up at me, looking askance, but you don't pull your hand away despite the fact that I'm holding it for no apparent reason.
"Next time you decide to relive the past, do it without your sword around." I bring your hand up to my face, wrapping my fingers around yours. I close my eyes and breathe in, cherry and plum floating in the air, and then look at you again. "I don't want to see you hurt."
Your smile is faint, but real. You lean back against a tree trunk and close your eyes. My fingers are still twined with yours. I watch you for a moment, as the slowly sinking sun casts a slight shadow over your face. I lay down in the soft grass, my head resting near your hip, and I hold your bandaged hand to my cheek. We stay that way for a while, peaceful and silent as the scent of flowers wafts down and the light starts to fade. I think of you, of your bright eyes and delicate smile and your warmth; I have no doubt that you think of blood and sweat and war. Every once in a while your fingers tighten around mine, and I wonder what scarlet and crimson spray, what violent death you dream of.
The sun sets farther; soon it will blaze red, though still not as brilliant as your hair. You shift, and I close my eyes, expecting you to be standing and waiting for me to walk back with you. To my surprise, I open my eyes only to stare straight into yours. You are lying beside me, face quiet and hand still gripping mine.
"Thank you, Sano." You move closer, and nestle your face in my neck. If I look down, all I can see is your flaming hair. You cuddle up, resting your other hand on my chest, and I can feel your slight body under the magenta gi. I put my arms around you and pull you close. You sigh, a transparent and fleeting sound that melts away into nothing. A blossom falls from above, and then another. They lodge, pink and purple in your hair, and I smile.
:::red and pink and purple swirls:::
"Under the Trees"
I walk over the hill, and below me the spring trees flower. The cherry blooms pale pink next to reddish-purple plum; from a distance, they look like hazy red lace. I catch a glimpse of you underneath the branches, bright gi and bright hair melting into the blossoms. Your trousers are a white trunk, rippling in the late afternoon breeze.
You sit, and I creep closer. You brush an auburn lock of hair out of your face, the red that looks so gaijin turning into a streak in the wind. You pull your sword out of its sheath and lay it on your lap, and then you tuck a hand into the front of your gi and study the sword. You look beautiful, bangs hiding your velvet eyes as you stare.
I creep even closer. Just to be near you, I think; it is worth this silence. Watching you under the pink and purple trees is so close to bliss. You finger the sword, turning it over in your lap. You mouth something, and I lose it to the wind. I move closer, and you - still oblivious to my presence - murmur it again.
"Battousai."
Once again, even among the flowers, the red-clad rurouni thinks only of scarlet, of blood; of his stained sword and stained hands. Don't think that no one notices, and don't think that we don't care. Do you relive each death in your mind? I would ask, if only I weren't afraid to hear the answer. Afraid to hear "yes." It would hurt me to know, to have confirmed, the extent of what your memory puts you through. I know it on an intuitive level, but to hear it from you would be to have it come alive. Although, if it would take away some of that crimson-tinged pain, I would listen until the end of the world. More than anything, I hate to see you alone and suffering.
You run your hand down the blade, testing the edge - not the blunted edge, but the one that is sharp and deadly. You draw your hand back quickly, holding it to your pale lips. "Kuso," you mutter. Did you even realize that you were running your hand along the sword? You were off in your dream-world again, back in the past.
"Hurt yourself, Kenshin?" I stand in front of you now, hands in my pockets. You look up, startled, and then plaster that stupid grin back on your face.
"Ah, Sano!" You smile at me, a smile so fake that it pains me. I sit down by you and take your cut and bleeding hand.
"You have to be careful there. The blade *is* sharp, you dumb rurouni."
I tear off the tip of the scarlet bandage on my arm, and wrap it around your hand. The blood soaking through barely even stains. You glance up at me, looking askance, but you don't pull your hand away despite the fact that I'm holding it for no apparent reason.
"Next time you decide to relive the past, do it without your sword around." I bring your hand up to my face, wrapping my fingers around yours. I close my eyes and breathe in, cherry and plum floating in the air, and then look at you again. "I don't want to see you hurt."
Your smile is faint, but real. You lean back against a tree trunk and close your eyes. My fingers are still twined with yours. I watch you for a moment, as the slowly sinking sun casts a slight shadow over your face. I lay down in the soft grass, my head resting near your hip, and I hold your bandaged hand to my cheek. We stay that way for a while, peaceful and silent as the scent of flowers wafts down and the light starts to fade. I think of you, of your bright eyes and delicate smile and your warmth; I have no doubt that you think of blood and sweat and war. Every once in a while your fingers tighten around mine, and I wonder what scarlet and crimson spray, what violent death you dream of.
The sun sets farther; soon it will blaze red, though still not as brilliant as your hair. You shift, and I close my eyes, expecting you to be standing and waiting for me to walk back with you. To my surprise, I open my eyes only to stare straight into yours. You are lying beside me, face quiet and hand still gripping mine.
"Thank you, Sano." You move closer, and nestle your face in my neck. If I look down, all I can see is your flaming hair. You cuddle up, resting your other hand on my chest, and I can feel your slight body under the magenta gi. I put my arms around you and pull you close. You sigh, a transparent and fleeting sound that melts away into nothing. A blossom falls from above, and then another. They lodge, pink and purple in your hair, and I smile.
:::red and pink and purple swirls:::
