Fanfic. Crossover. Bleach/Yami no Matsuei. Ryuuken-Muraki. G.
Fiction. Muraki/Ryuuken. Posted as written, full of mistakes and odd grammar: try not to point and laugh.
Rating: G. I'm so awesome! Not.
Leave concrit and ♥~
Has a title since yr.2010. I've never failed with coming up with titles this hard. :|
Well met
It was that day of the year again. One day out of his everyday life and into the life he had lost to his heritage.
This morning, Ryuuken had gotten up twice as early as he did usually even though this was almost the only day off work he had in the entire year.
Just like back in his study years, he took a train all the way to Tokyo. Just like in his study years, he walked all the way to Shinjuku. Passed through the park, stopping briefly to gaze up at the darkening sky. Time was turned back, if only for a moment. Same sky. Same pale stars. Same spot. Different time. Different life. He sighed and continued on his way. Lost was lost. He had willingly chosen the here and now, and it had no place for regret.
Ryuuken walked down the narrow and less-famous streets, passed by a small tea house and stopped in a crossing where a grey house always had burning candles in ornate clay pots (custom made in Nara). He turned a corner, counted five buildings down and entered a dark passage between a flower and an accessory shop to emerge in a closed yard with a lonely cherry tree and a broken bamboo fountain. Hanging from a branch, an old windchime tingled sadly in the light evening breeze.
It had rained recently, Ryuuken concluded, because the stone basin was full of water. In a path of light cast by a nearby window he could see petals floating on its surface. The fountain had never worked, he remembered. They had once tried to fix it, but it broke down a few days later and no other attempts were made.
Ryuuken allowed himself a small smile as he headed past the tree and the basin and towards a screendoor. Three knocks and it slid open. The man who let him in was as old as the world, seemingly unchanged from the first time Ryuuken had come here in his study years.
The man gestured towards the depths of a dimly lit corridor, but Ryuuken had not stayed on the doorstep to wait. This path was all-too-familiar. He could have walked it with his eyes closed and could still tell the exact place where the floorboard would squeak under his foot and where another would creak no matter how carefully you tried to avoid it. With a trained motion, he pushed open another screendoor and entered a small room. His friend from study years was already sitting by a low table there, waiting. He was always the first one to arrive.
A warm smile greeted him, the same eyes lighting up in recognition. A slight tilt of the head, and Ryuuken answered with the same, finally allowing himself to relax.
"Muraki."
"Ishida."
Two identical teacups were alerady steaming on the table, cherry petals floating on the surface, and a Mahjong set was placed on the floor next to the table, waiting to be played. Ryuuken closed the door behind him and turned the time backwards.
------------------
Aaaaand that's all for now. I feel too tired to write some real pr0nz. (Hai thar 0:17 A-freaking-M.)
Rating: G. I'm so awesome! Not.
Leave concrit and ♥~
Has a title since yr.2010. I've never failed with coming up with titles this hard. :|
Well met
It was that day of the year again. One day out of his everyday life and into the life he had lost to his heritage.
This morning, Ryuuken had gotten up twice as early as he did usually even though this was almost the only day off work he had in the entire year.
Just like back in his study years, he took a train all the way to Tokyo. Just like in his study years, he walked all the way to Shinjuku. Passed through the park, stopping briefly to gaze up at the darkening sky. Time was turned back, if only for a moment. Same sky. Same pale stars. Same spot. Different time. Different life. He sighed and continued on his way. Lost was lost. He had willingly chosen the here and now, and it had no place for regret.
Ryuuken walked down the narrow and less-famous streets, passed by a small tea house and stopped in a crossing where a grey house always had burning candles in ornate clay pots (custom made in Nara). He turned a corner, counted five buildings down and entered a dark passage between a flower and an accessory shop to emerge in a closed yard with a lonely cherry tree and a broken bamboo fountain. Hanging from a branch, an old windchime tingled sadly in the light evening breeze.
It had rained recently, Ryuuken concluded, because the stone basin was full of water. In a path of light cast by a nearby window he could see petals floating on its surface. The fountain had never worked, he remembered. They had once tried to fix it, but it broke down a few days later and no other attempts were made.
Ryuuken allowed himself a small smile as he headed past the tree and the basin and towards a screendoor. Three knocks and it slid open. The man who let him in was as old as the world, seemingly unchanged from the first time Ryuuken had come here in his study years.
The man gestured towards the depths of a dimly lit corridor, but Ryuuken had not stayed on the doorstep to wait. This path was all-too-familiar. He could have walked it with his eyes closed and could still tell the exact place where the floorboard would squeak under his foot and where another would creak no matter how carefully you tried to avoid it. With a trained motion, he pushed open another screendoor and entered a small room. His friend from study years was already sitting by a low table there, waiting. He was always the first one to arrive.
A warm smile greeted him, the same eyes lighting up in recognition. A slight tilt of the head, and Ryuuken answered with the same, finally allowing himself to relax.
"Muraki."
"Ishida."
Two identical teacups were alerady steaming on the table, cherry petals floating on the surface, and a Mahjong set was placed on the floor next to the table, waiting to be played. Ryuuken closed the door behind him and turned the time backwards.
------------------
Aaaaand that's all for now. I feel too tired to write some real pr0nz. (Hai thar 0:17 A-freaking-M.)