City of the Wind
Kia Ixari
(Revised 2009 Feb)
II.
"You came." Tonight, the boy was wearing a brilliant smile. Tezuka let himself be pulled into the room, hearing the door click back into place behind him. "I was hoping you would. It was quite lonely playing in the gardens by myself."
Tezuka never really fully took in the room the first time he invited himself in. It was a wide room that had curved walls lined with endless books on shelves. There was a big circular bed off to the far corner, where it met with the wide wall that had nothing but windows. A fireplace was set in the midst of the books, and there was another door, presumably leading to the wardrobe and bathrooms. There was a grand piano near the windows, and music sheets were spread upon it, as if someone was just playing.
"Do you play?" the boy asked from behind him as he walked over to the piano and gently brushed his fingertips over the keys.
Tezuka briefly smiled. "I used to."
The boy walked up to his side, putting his left hand above the keys beside Tezuka's right hand. They were awfully mismatched. "Why did you stop?"
"I had to train my Craft," he explained simply.
"Ah," sniffed the boy in disdain. "The Monasteries and their monstrosities. Instead of growing the magic, they tether and bind it, constrict it so it cannot breathe, much like how you would do a decorative plant — prune and keep it within shape so it does not grow to be 'unruly'."
Tezuka lifted an eyebrow. "You sound like you know a terrible lot about the Monasteries."
The boy merely shrugged, pushing away the topic as easy as one would brush off dust. He then turned towards Tezuka with an eager smile, his eyes darting towards the basket the mage was still holding. "Food?"
Wordlessly, he handed the basket over. The next thing he knew, he was being dragged past the old porch pillar and out into the gardens. The boy led him to a beautiful cherry blossom tree, one that was in full bloom. Bathed in moonlight, it was a breathtaking sight — and so was the boy.
Pale skin gleamed under blue moonlight, and golden eyes glowed with warmth and fire. Full lips, immaculately high cheekbones, a gentle and almost feminine jaw, smoothly slanting eyebrows — truly, this mysterious young man was a masterpiece to behold.
"Perhaps you plan on staring at me all night?" the boy playfully teased, smiling a coy smile. When Tezuka resolutely looked away, the boy laughed. "Go on, no need to deny it! I'm quite breathtaking, and I'm well aware of it."
Tezuka's lip twitched.
The boy dissolved into merry giggles, snatching one of the truffles from the basket. Fireflies beautifully illuminated the gardens which, no matter how grown out and unruly it had become, was just perfect.
"You don't talk much, do you," the boy sighed after a while, having finished the set of truffles Tezuka managed to filch from the Monastery kitchens.
"Sorry," Tezuka apologized, but the boy waved him off.
"I'm not saying that silence is a bad thing," the boy replied. "After a while, you get so used to silence that it feels alien to be without it."
"Have you always been alone in here?" Tezuka asked, cautious but curious.
"Not anymore." The boy smiled at him. "Thank you for coming to visit, Tezuka."
Tezuka's eyes stayed on the smiling face for a heartbeat, before straying off towards the distant Monastery towers. "I could faintly see you from over there."
"What were you doing up this time of the night?" There was rustling as the boy dug into the basket to get a piece of bread. "You are a mage; you have quite a lot of duties. Surely you cannot afford to lose sleep?"
"I could not sleep," Tezuka answered in full honesty. Again, his lips twitched into a small smile. "A boy with golden eyes was bothering me."
"Really now," the boy said. "What was this boy bothering you about that he could not put off for when you are awake, then?"
"The boy was cold and alone," Tezuka said. "In his old and dusty quarters, he stays day and night. No one knows of him and about him, and somehow, I feel that I have to know."
"Do you really?" the boy asks, looking up at Tezuka with golden eyes seeking something — hoping that Tezuka would be the one to give it. But tonight, Tezuka could not answer, for he was not a man who followed what he felt. He was a man who grew up following what was taught.
Soon enough, it was time to leave. Wrapping up the now empty basket, Tezuka stood before the boy. "I must go."
The boy looked up at him with confused eyes, and Tezuka could not catch a single emotion from within them, for there were too many in too quick successions. Then, the boy nodded and stood to accompany him to the door. The room was slightly colder now, as if the night's chill finally settled in.
He stepped out of the once jeweled door.
"…good night, Tezuka," the boy silently bid him.
Tezuka stood there, facing away from this person that evoked feelings within him he could not explain. He frowned. He could feel a compulsion to stay, to not leave, to stay here forever — but no, he could not.
Reaching into his pocket, he took out a big red cloth he used for handling older and more sensitive books he could not handle with his bare hands, and handed it to the boy.
"If you need anything," Tezuka began, "if you need me to come to you, tie this around the porch's pillar where I can see it from the Monastery. I shall come."
With that, Tezuka spun on his heel and headed for the Monasteries. But before he could walk past the turn, a weak and hesitant voice called out behind him, "My name…"
He stopped, turning partway.
"…my name… is Ryoma."
The voice broke at the end, as if the boy was not certain of his own name. But Tezuka turned and gave him a small smile.
"Good night, Ryoma."
-
"Good morning, Tezuka!" chirped a perfectly chipper voice from somewhere above him.
Blearily blinking, he lightly groaned. "What time is it?"
"Almost nine~," sang the happy voice. "We'll be late in a few minutes~."
"And you are happy about that," he grunted as he sat up from bed, still fully clothed from the previous night. Golden eyes and a beautiful smile flashed into his consciousness, and he had to shake his head slightly to keep alert and awake.
"Oh, it's a good day," smiled Fuji.
"And why, pray tell, is it a good day?" Tezuka sighed, quickly walking through a shortened version of his morning routine.
Fuji was a childhood friend, and one of the few within Tezuka's circle. All of them were grafted from different regions of the kingdom for their power and brought to the Monasteries when they were no more than nine or ten, except for Fuji and Taka.
Fuji was special. He came from a noble line of mages that were granted special powers — the entire clan was notorious, however, for being sadomasochists. Taka, back then, was working with his father, who was the chief cook in the clan's manor. After having shown magical potential, Taka was also grafted, much to the pride of his parents.
But that was another story for another time.
"Well, good days typically start with surprises," Fuji explained as Tezuka straightened out his robes and collected his books and journal. "And my first surprise of the day came when I saw the Tezuka Kunimitsu walking back into the Monasteries very early in the morning with a smile on his face!"
Tezuka's hands stilled.
"And then I walk into his room later that morning, only to find him sleeping in with full robes on! I mean, can a day get better?" Fuji finished with a flourish. He then stepped forward, shoved his face up to Tezuka's, and blithely chirped, "Can it?"
Fuji merely received a frown.
The brown-haired mage laughed, twirling away from Tezuka, agile and graceful as a floating wraith. "Worry not, Tezuka~! It's not as if we mages are bound by vows of celibacy, unlike the priests. I will not tell a soul." Fuji stopped by the door and sent a rare and fleetingly honest smile at Tezuka, one that was so fundamentally different from his farce smiles, one that only a handful of people have seen. "I am actually happy that you are reaching out, Tezuka. Heaven knows you are too lonely."
Faintly lowering his head in acknowledgement, Tezuka sighed. He knew he was lonely. He suffered because he was lonely. But what could he do? There was no one out there who would send the loneliness away. Was there?
A smile, golden eyes. "You came."
There was a faint twinge within his chest that Tezuka could not ignore. If it was magic, he did not know for certain.
"But," Fuji continued, walking out the door. Tezuka briskly followed, closing his quarters and making sure they were locked. "If I were you, I'd keep to the night visits. And try returning earlier. You want neither Eiji nor Momo seeing you out at night." He giggled. "I cannot wait to meet the lovely young man!"
Tezuka was far too busy inwardly dreading the horror of having Eiji or Momo finding out about the matter at hand that he only realized Fuji had said 'young man' instead of 'young lady' when they were already in the lecture halls, seated and waiting for the Senior Mage to begin the day's lesson.
One thought plagued his mind for the rest of the morning.
…am I that blatant?
-
The following night, Tezuka did not return. Nor did he the night after that. Ryoma did not even bother denying it; he was starting to miss the mage's company. Tezuka was a mere mage, and Ryoma knew it was not good for someone of his station to become so besotted with a mere mage.
But since when did he ever follow social rules?
He cared neither for social stature nor for outward appearance. Should he appear as uncultured and unfit for the prefix that was attached to his name, he did not care. All he cared about was the mage that kept him company in the stifling quarters that had become his entire world for the past ten years.
He walked up to the porch pillar and lifted the red cloth in his hands. Reaching over to tie it, he hesitated. Would it be too selfish of him to call the mage down just because he wanted company? He knew that mages were quite busy, especially someone as young as Tezuka. No doubt, Tezuka was of the Third Level mages — not quite mages in training, but not quite full-fledged mages either. They were somewhere within the transitional stage, and had half the duties of graduated mages.
He bit his lip, moving back, his hands falling to his sides. The cloth hung limply in his left hand.
Not knowing how long he stood there, he stared thoughtfully at the pillar. Soon, the night's chill began settling into his quarters. The fireflies were out once more, and the beautiful cherry blossoms swayed in the night's gentle breeze.
"Why do you hesitate?"
Ryoma started and whirled around, finding himself facing the object of his thoughts. "Tezuka…"
The mage lifted a light blanket from the nearby divan and moved forward, draping it around Ryoma's shoulders. "I could see you from my windows. Why do you hesitate? I did tell you I would come."
Ryoma cast his eyes down, shuffling his feet awkwardly. "…there was no particular reason for me to call you down."
"You wanted company," Tezuka said, and the boy nodded silently. "Then is that not reason enough?"
Ryoma's eyes darted up to meet Tezuka's.
"I am sorry I was not able to come sooner," the mage apologized silently, taking Ryoma's hand and leading him to the gardens. Ryoma followed, eyes trailed upon their intertwined fingers. "There were several matters I had to attend to."
"It is fine," Ryoma said, a slow smile blooming upon his face.
As they sat passing time under the cherry blossom tree, the magic played. All around them were sparkles of power, here and there were heady swirls of misty magic. The breeze was pleasant, and the moon smiled down at them.
"We might take life for granted, but from time to time, there are beautiful nights like these," Tezuka silently said, calling Ryoma's attention. "They make us realize just how much we've been given. Am I wrong?"
Ryoma regarded him with a steady stare, recalling their first meeting. And then he smiled. "No, perhaps you aren't."
There was silence once more as Ryoma's fingers tightened around Tezuka's.
"Will you be coming tomorrow night?"
Will you stay with me?
"If you wish me to."