A/N: Although I highly doubt anyone will ever read this, it is a fic for Takao Shigeru-sensei's Golden Days, which currently runs in Hana to Yume and is a manga I very much adore. On the off-chance you're reading this, and you want to know what it's about so you can better understand the fic, you can view a detailed summary I wrote up by searching for the title on Aarinfantasy Forums (yaoi conent warning). The passage below is the first paragraph from the first volume, and was translated by yours truly (who took artistic license), and is therefore probably highly confusing and inaccurate. Also, due to the fact that I read this story in a language I'm less than fluent in, and there are only 2 volumes currently available to me, it's bound to be a little OOC XD; Sorry.
dislcaimer: I don't own it, and I'm fine with that because it's going just fine so far.
warning: Some mild slash (less than the canon; ) Jin/Mitsuya(Yoshimitsu), and annoying descriptions.
I love the smell of the earth after the rain
I love absentmindedly gazing at the gentle dancing rhythm of the speckled earth beneath the trees...
And I love reaching the softly audible wandering tunes of the piano, and the rapid and intense turbulence, gradually falling deeply in love...
As though it were shining gold...
That was the world in which they lived
That was the world in which he lived
It was another day of unbearable calm, the oppressive heat driving them in and out of the house, and drudging up restless thoughts from the mires of their unconsciousness.
Jin in particular was full of such thoughts, as he always was, since that ancient, though none-the-less clearly remembered day, similarly plagued by the summer heat. It had never been any trouble for him to recall perfectly Yoshimitsu's warm black eyes that day, squinting, half-shut, in a childish smile, so different from his own vivid, green eyes. The very eyes that stared up so helplessly in the face of the boy, who likened them to his mother's jeweled ring, and called them beautiful.
He'd caused much trouble for his family since then, as the rather conventional standards of his time demanded more of him than he was apt to give. But he had enough of what he wanted to keep his spirits high, and if it was their wish to chase him, he was never too depressed to run. 'No one had liked me much before anyway.' He reminded himself as his thoughts clouded and dispersed in the stifling humidity. He stood, stretching, and strode back into the house, intent on finding something moderately cool to drink.
Mitsuya rolled his eyes sleepily, following Jin's form as he left. They had been sitting, with Aiko, on cushioned chairs lazily arranged about a table on the tiled porch. The wind shook the trees dotting them with dancing spots of sun, the ever-present warmth luring all of them to sleep.
His eyelids moved to shield his pupils from the sun, showing him the image of his grandfather, weak, on the white hospital bed. It was all so white, like the clouds, and his grandfather was dead. He saw the steps rise up and meet his vision, blurring it, as his beloved grandfather's final words echoed in the cracking wood of the violin as it smashed into the cold, hard tile.
"If.. by some miracle.. I could turn back time... I would run... to save him."
Those words, in the voice of that one person who was kind and stable, in those times when his mother was anything but sane, always softened his face. They made him feel, though it was not typically in his nature, that he could cry, because being his final wish, they meant that he was dead. Even in this world where he should still be young and vibrant, he was starkly absent, replaced by his grandson even the nostalgic days that should belong solely to him.
Although he had passed back out of sleep, this place remained like a dream to him. It's air, if heavy with heat, was clean and a fresh wind that tangled in his hair and in the limbs of trees rich with the chirping of cicadas. The low, traditional buildings swept across the hilly land, allowing a wide view of the vast and clearing sky that he was tempted to avert all his attention to, rather than dwell on the misfortune of his grandfather, not to mention his current plethora of unorthodox relationships.
Aiko stirred, and tilted her head toward the sounds of scuffling and cursing from the door behind them. A final unpleasant knock of silver against the western frame of the door was followed by the emergence of a rather upset, rather blond boy who stiffly took the three steps to the table before him, and set the ornate tea tray done on it with another sharp, echoing sound. He was already in better spirits, however, as he called out to his friends, seemingly for the sole pleasure of hearing their names.
"Bishop! Mitsu! Cold water!"
Mitsuya extended his arm out to the side, without looking at Jin, and grabbed one of the expensive glasses, already quite damp with condensation. "... Th-"
"Thanks!" Aiko yelled childishly, over Mitsuya's quiet response.
Jin smiled at Aiko and wrapped his hand around the chair, resting it on Mitsuya's shoulder, and moving his head in closer so it was pressed against Mitsuya's ear-to-ear, he grinned even wider.
Mitsuya's entire body tensed, and in a split second Jin had been introduced to the floor head-first, Mitsuya glaring down at the other boy's still airborne feet. Aiko blinked and laughed whole-heartedly, glad for a distraction from the heat.
A/N: I might do more for this, I hope I will. I might not post it though, unless this series gets more fans (like more than me and 3 Japanese girls I don't know.; ) Well, I hope you enjoyed it
