Flight of the Phoenix
Act II – The Sun for Sorrow
Only you exist in mine eyes, fair dearest…
Midsummer Night's Eve: a time of scarlet celebration for the people of Shi Jing. Old-fashioned lanterns swung from the curved, glistening roof tiles, the explosions of firecrackers fueled by the roar of laughter rising up and down the streets. It was a merry time for all, obvious in the sake-swilling citizens singing traditional songs long gone by. Sweet scents of various delicacies and snacks wafted about in steady streams, each diner cheerfully jostling the next to eat more. As the dishes piled, a loud gong boomed in the distance alerting the people of the show that was held annually at this time. With more laughter, they exited, gathering about in a large cobblestone gathering space in the exact center of the town. With a crashing of cymbals, the false dragon with its enormous, blinking eyes weaved into the crowd. Along with them the happy couple of Tatsumi and Watari clapped along, all the while whispering to each other.
"He'll be meeting the general, right?" Tatsumi asked, hint of concern in his normal tones.
"'Aye. He better, at least. Those new robes cost so much!" Watari sighed, feigning a smile at a villager beside him.
Tatsumi was unperturbed by the comment. "As much as the "ingredients" in your potion do."
"So?"
His eyes rolled as the crowd began to move forward to follow the slinking dragon on human feet, the clash of the percussion willing him forward, and soon the two's argument was drowned out in the excitement of the moment.
In the lit confinements of their home, Hisoka stood brooding in front of a mirror, the room's only light emitting softly from a single candle stub whose flame flickered on and off sporadically as if its days were numbered. The young Kurosaki straightened out the tight-fitting gown again, annoyedly tugging at the cloth buttons that kept the stiff collar straight, not to mention incredibly uncomfortable. Amidst all of the woven gold flowers, trees, and golden dragons, a large, bolded character embroidered expertly on the back of the scarlet silk gown stated that he was a to-be wed boy. As he did this, his hand automatically reached for the pink handkerchief given to him yesterday, tucking it avidly in the gown for "good luck". His gaze flicked upwards to gaze darkly at the mirror, wincing at his own disheveled appearance. Why did the General choose him of all pretty boys in the area? And what was the deal between his guardians and the porker of a man anyhow? Swearing softly, he opened the door, promising himself that he would dig those secrets out of them after the celebrations.
The door creaked obligingly, the wood seemingly lifting to reveal an overlarge smiling face. And before Hisoka could say any word of protest a burly hand slid about his slim waist, the other's mustache twitching fondly at the boy. "You look lovely in that gown, my sweet."
Hisoka flushed, noting only in his mind how repulsive-looking the general truly was, that is, compared to the Bei-Yueh "demon". His eyes flitted shut as a haggard finger neared, brushing fine, golden strands from the glorious expanse of his face. And even in that moment his mind was still belching facts from class. Demon, eh? Was it a sin to fall in love with the face of one, when beauty was their very name? His eyes reopened, all thoughts of sin and corruption evaporating from his head as soon as the general was back in his view. A word to describe the other? Take two: Fat Lard.
The blonde pulled away from the man's grasp, bowing politely as instructed earlier. "Thank you sir."
"Sir! No need for such formality!" He closed the space between them again, protectively wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Call me Takamura, my fair blossom. You and I will be wed soon, after all!"
"Indeed." Hisoka replied rather dryly, wincing and wishing the night would just end. The summer's head drew sweat from all of his pores, and it was only his family's dignity that kept him from pushing off the general and running back to the forest of yesterday. Swallowing the bitter bile burning into his throat, he tilted his chin up; attempting to chat civilly with Takamura as the two strolled down the pavement alit with the red of lanterns like star-crossed lovers. Yeah, right. Every word that flitted expertly from his lips were lies concocted out of his very imaginative mind as he chirped a jovial comment back to every question said. The moon dawned its shape, the gibbous shape cursed in his eyes. Damn Midsummer's Night!
Suddenly, a petite cup of sake was drawn to his face for inspection, the aroma sweet and musky to the boy. The general was grinning, cup held to his lips. "Drink up, to this fine, fine night!"
Hisoka looked down, swallowing the excess saliva bitterly. If it was he that ended up wasted, it would be he that would wake up in bed next to that revolting bag the next day. Fake smile upon his lips quivering, he drew the cup forwards, gulping the repulsive liquid down as if it were water on a hot day. His purity would not be lost, at least, to this man.
Jeers were heard, and the man's arm steered him promptly to the cobblestone clearing, Hisoka scanning the area with dull interest for his guardian's faces. The two, Tatsumi and Watari, seemed to be enjoying themselves enough. Obviously drunk, their faces bloomed carnation as they wrapped their arms around each other and sang with the crowd as the fireworks were lit in the center of it all.
They went off, spurting their acid-green and yellow plumes all about the abyss of the sky. The crowd's constant drone raised a few more decibels, the confining chain about his waist sliding off to cheer with the rest. His own hand dropped to his side, only to be picked up by the hand of yesterday.
Hisoka whirled around, surprised at the soft touch that seemed so familiar, but only for an instant was it there. His orbs clouded instantly as the overly cheerful smile came into view. "Oye, Hisoka-kun!" The face chortled happily, the only movement caught by his eye the lips, their curving, delicate shapes shifting up and down to form those words! Those blessed words!
"Tsuzuki…" The words thrummed as a whisper, the boy gritting his teeth to hold back tears. Instead of crying in front of the man, his eyebrows knitted, emerald facets flaring as he kept his front facing Tsuzuki as to not allow him to read the symbol on his back. "What do you think you're doing here?" His arms thrust forward without thinking, Hisoka pushing Tsuzuki away from the crowd and into a darker part of the streets away from the crackling commotion. "They'll kill you if they find you here!"
"Pish!" Tsuzuki chirped, waving his hand back and forth to dismiss the matter. "It was nothing! Besides, I'd walk over glass just to spend a night like this with you!"
Hisoka flushed the color of his gown, tugging at his collar in his nervousness. Tsuzuki's face continued to bloom, obviously unaware of Hisoka's current state. The man's face turned to look at the busy crowd, smile consistent. "Your village is so extravagant! At Bei-Yueh, all we do is eat sukiyaki and it's done. No fireworks…or those yummy dumplings that you have!" Tsuzuki rubbed his belly, which was full and bulging just slightly out of the undersized red gown which had presumably been stolen.
Before he could answer, the general rushed over, Tsuzuki backing out of sight. "Where were you, my sweet?" Takamura poured, mouth the pitcher of overly sweetened tea. "You have missed the fireworks! Come now!" He tugged on Hisoka's wrist, the boy stealing a look at Tsuzuki before his feet would oblige to the command. "We are just in time for the announcement of you as my wife!"
At 'wife' all traces of cheer dissolved instantly from Tsuzuki's face as well as the color, and instead was replaced by a frown tugging at the corners of his blessed lips.
Hisoka bit down on his lip as he was dragged onto a mishap stage, head low as to not arouse any pitying glances from the crowd at the clear streaks tracing their path about his face. The general stood, yelling jubilantly out to the celebrating crowd. "Fair ladies and humble gentlemen, may I present to you, Kurosaki Hisoka, my wife!"
He stared lazily out of the newly cleaned window, drawing invisible circles on his blank sheet of notes with his fingernail. Why take notes if in another year, he could be the screw-toy of the old bag anyhow? A melancholy sigh sounded from his parted lips, head resting gently upon his cupped hand. The bell rang, dismissing the students to their awaiting lunches at home. Several flocked over around him, muttering their words of regrets and congratulations as the classroom emptied and left Hisoka alone. With the speed of a snail, Hisoka stood, collecting his books and stepping out into the windy caresses of the full-blown skies of pure azure where the familiar green snake flitting in and out of a swaying cloud.
It was the fourteenth day Cobra had gone without a fight. The mere shape of the beast gone down from its grace made his heart wrench. Was it because of last night? Did Tsuzuki find out of his taken status? He leaned against the coldness of the mud wall, blinking away suppressed sadness. Why? Biting down on his lip to draw blood, he instinctively fled home, tearing open the door and rushing to his room. Tatsumi's eyes flitted up from the daily paper, Watari's newly created cake bar sticking halfway out of his mouth to follow the storming Hisoka into his room, and back out of the house.
A second later, he was swarmed with a cloud of purple smoke.
"Watari!"
Clenched tightly in his hand was the scarlet silhouette of his dear Phoenix, the bird's hapless tail feathers swirling on about its rump as he ran, sliding to a halt once Cobra was in clear view. Gasping for air, he threw the kite out of his arms, sandals flapping whilst he began to flee from the shape with his knuckles white from clutching the string. The whipping wind lashed at it, as if by magic, lifting the fire bird up into its deadly grasp. The bird seemed to come alive, flapping its tissue-paper wings and joining the Cobra in the beautiful infinity of the yonder.
The snake was alert instantly, tail frolicking less as the deadly head drew towards the bird to hover in lazy circles like a doctor's inspection. With its seething fangs it darted forwards, lashing out with its large head.
Phoenix was with the beast's movements; the clever bird whirling off the side to daintily avoid the other's finely crafted string. Cobra, angry with his attack seemingly parried, struck again and again like a Cupid blindfolded and wishing to hit two invisible people. With each non-existent blow the flier became more desperate, the kite wavering a few moments in the air as the wind dwindled. Taking the opportunity, Phoenix lurched, string wrapping around the others as the air seethed with the screech of the strings.
A crack was heard as the strings battled against each other, the Phoenix's flight ceasing as the two fell to be caught by the soft zephyrs that encouragingly urged on the fight. A snap, two! And one fell…
A gasp fluttered from his lips as his beautiful "dove" fell on wounded wings, tail makeshift blood in his saddened eye. He stepped forward, lump growing in his throat as the bird descended to his cupped arms, the boy's face burying in the soft red tissue that had been slashed to bleeding.
From the depths of a forest a shrouded figure emerged, movements jagged and uneven as a wad of kite string was dropped from a hand. Hisoka's emerald eye jumped up, narrowing maliciously at the approaching figure. Why couldn't they leave him be?
He was instantly caught up in the clouded purple of the other's eyes, rimming the amethysts the redness of the dried aftermath of tears. He found himself caught up in strong, warm arms, the kite falling to the ground as if a discarded doll amidst the romantic wreckage.
The man's face pulled away from him suddenly, eyebrows knitted.
"Marry me!" Was all he heard, the words a soothing bath against all of the grime that the world had stained him with.
And with that, they sealed the deal with a kiss.
TBC with more love!