My sense of direction is even worse
I don't have much to contribute since my days are mainly set to preparing for college and being responsible. 0.o;;; So I'll just throw one of my short stories up here to fill up space...
I quit trying to make this one sound passable because the writing just eluded me, but it's not bad enough to entirely scrap. I think I'd just keep the concept and resign this to a first draft...
“Are you lost?”
Hatsuharu was so used to hearing those words that he felt it was adopting another name, a phrase that is repeated so often that it becomes how you define yourself. Or a gradually placed nickname in the mind of the one who says it to you. The way Kyou almost felt a kinship when he bristled at “Kyon-Kyon.” The way a friend perks their attention at the sound of a worn-out inside joke. The way a lover’s name doesn’t just vanish in the soft breaths of intimacy but instead becomes “I love you.”
And Haru’s name was Lost.
No one had given it to him out of any special connection. It wasn’t because people cared for him. It was something only pitying strangers used to call out to him when they didn’t know his name. He was Lost because he couldn’t keep directions right in his head, because he was scatterbrained, because he oftentimes lost focus when daydreaming about something else.
It was a title, it was recognition, but it was not the connection he yearned for when he thought about it what it meant to be called by something other than your given designation. Besides the heavy burden of Souma that was built upon secrets and pain. He could not reconcile the name his poor, broken mother gave him before she realized he was one of the cursed. She misnamed him. He was supposed to be a renewal, which is why she chose a name with the kanji for spring in it. Haru, the spring of the Souma clan, was a lie every time he felt hope wither at his touch.
And then lost Haru looked down and found he had accidentally stepped in fertile ground. He didn’t even know he had trod over a patch of radishes until he lifted his shoe. The boy sighed in resentment as again he destroyed something through carelessness, even in the vastness of the forest’s anonymity where he wandered.
“Haru?” Yuki’s voice drifted from the small garden, startling Haru as much as the ox could be startled. It made perfect sense really. Where else could he go but to the shelter of his first love and be reminded once again how he had no permanent anchor in the world, even to the people he loved most.
The older boy had shaded his eyes, making the suspected disappointment unreadable to Haru. “What are you doing here?”
“Hello Yuki.” Haru said as if suddenly realizing that he had been traveling and had not noticed until now.
The boy calmly sighed, already assessing the situation before looking back at his garden. “What brings you here? Please don’t tell me you’ve come to fight that stupid cat again.”
“No. I just...I wanted to hear you say my name.”
Yuki pulled off one of his burlap gloves. One eyebrow was faintly quirked up in puzzlement. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not sure.” Haru shook his head, his white hair shifting in the evening’s breeze.
There was a pause between then, before Haru felt his cousin resign himself and gently wrapped his hand around the boy’s wrist and began to pull him towards the house. “Come on then. Honda-san has made leek tonight and I think we’ll have need of an extra mouth.”
Haru let himself be guided with the promise of food and company. How warm Yuki’s touch was. And how strange it was that he would initiate contact. It was so unlike his distant, beautiful cousin. He resisted the urge to wrap his fingers around Yuki’s hand. “What if I’m not hungry?”
“Then you can hold Kyou down so he’ll eat it.”
Haru smiled. His cousin was so assured in the way he carried himself, even in simple tasks like tending to a garden. It was not hard to see why so many people admired the refined and charming Yuki Souma. He was a guiding light for others to aspire to become.
“Thank you,” Haru said, smiling.
Yuki waved it off, trying to hide his exasperation for losing a part of his crop in the process. “I’m just glad I found you.”
“So am I.”
Yuki was Found. And everyday Haru hoped that one day he would turn his violet eyes to him, see him the way that Haru had longed to be seen by another person, and Hatsuharu Souma would cease to be Lost.
I quit trying to make this one sound passable because the writing just eluded me, but it's not bad enough to entirely scrap. I think I'd just keep the concept and resign this to a first draft...
“Are you lost?”
Hatsuharu was so used to hearing those words that he felt it was adopting another name, a phrase that is repeated so often that it becomes how you define yourself. Or a gradually placed nickname in the mind of the one who says it to you. The way Kyou almost felt a kinship when he bristled at “Kyon-Kyon.” The way a friend perks their attention at the sound of a worn-out inside joke. The way a lover’s name doesn’t just vanish in the soft breaths of intimacy but instead becomes “I love you.”
And Haru’s name was Lost.
No one had given it to him out of any special connection. It wasn’t because people cared for him. It was something only pitying strangers used to call out to him when they didn’t know his name. He was Lost because he couldn’t keep directions right in his head, because he was scatterbrained, because he oftentimes lost focus when daydreaming about something else.
It was a title, it was recognition, but it was not the connection he yearned for when he thought about it what it meant to be called by something other than your given designation. Besides the heavy burden of Souma that was built upon secrets and pain. He could not reconcile the name his poor, broken mother gave him before she realized he was one of the cursed. She misnamed him. He was supposed to be a renewal, which is why she chose a name with the kanji for spring in it. Haru, the spring of the Souma clan, was a lie every time he felt hope wither at his touch.
And then lost Haru looked down and found he had accidentally stepped in fertile ground. He didn’t even know he had trod over a patch of radishes until he lifted his shoe. The boy sighed in resentment as again he destroyed something through carelessness, even in the vastness of the forest’s anonymity where he wandered.
“Haru?” Yuki’s voice drifted from the small garden, startling Haru as much as the ox could be startled. It made perfect sense really. Where else could he go but to the shelter of his first love and be reminded once again how he had no permanent anchor in the world, even to the people he loved most.
The older boy had shaded his eyes, making the suspected disappointment unreadable to Haru. “What are you doing here?”
“Hello Yuki.” Haru said as if suddenly realizing that he had been traveling and had not noticed until now.
The boy calmly sighed, already assessing the situation before looking back at his garden. “What brings you here? Please don’t tell me you’ve come to fight that stupid cat again.”
“No. I just...I wanted to hear you say my name.”
Yuki pulled off one of his burlap gloves. One eyebrow was faintly quirked up in puzzlement. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not sure.” Haru shook his head, his white hair shifting in the evening’s breeze.
There was a pause between then, before Haru felt his cousin resign himself and gently wrapped his hand around the boy’s wrist and began to pull him towards the house. “Come on then. Honda-san has made leek tonight and I think we’ll have need of an extra mouth.”
Haru let himself be guided with the promise of food and company. How warm Yuki’s touch was. And how strange it was that he would initiate contact. It was so unlike his distant, beautiful cousin. He resisted the urge to wrap his fingers around Yuki’s hand. “What if I’m not hungry?”
“Then you can hold Kyou down so he’ll eat it.”
Haru smiled. His cousin was so assured in the way he carried himself, even in simple tasks like tending to a garden. It was not hard to see why so many people admired the refined and charming Yuki Souma. He was a guiding light for others to aspire to become.
“Thank you,” Haru said, smiling.
Yuki waved it off, trying to hide his exasperation for losing a part of his crop in the process. “I’m just glad I found you.”
“So am I.”
Yuki was Found. And everyday Haru hoped that one day he would turn his violet eyes to him, see him the way that Haru had longed to be seen by another person, and Hatsuharu Souma would cease to be Lost.