do you know why the stars flicker and die
sekigahara pair
PG
There is an empty jar collecting dust in the corner of Ishida Mitsunari's room. Those days, the hell-bent warlord does not return home much as hunting Ieyasu has become a full-time hobby, so the memory of the jar clings onto the back of his mind like a stubborn stain and follows in his footsteps.
It's summer in Hi-no-moto, and Mitsunari sleeps over his futon covers at night.
Back then, Takenaka Hanbei had given him that jar, along with a net and the serious mission of gathering fireflies. When the Toyotomi strategist found Sakichi passed out from heatstroke among an array of candles and books one stifling summer night, Hanbei immediately blew out the candles and doused Sakichi in cold water. Once the boy dried off, Hanbei then strongly suggested harnessing fireflies if the boy wished to study up until the wee hours.
At first, Sakichi was only able to bring back two fireflies. With his jar strapped to his thigh and net whipping through the air, the boy ran and ran and practically fainted from heatstroke again during his mission to capture light. When Sakichi, gleaming with sweat and dirt and grass and leaves, proudly showed Hanbei his lonely two fireflies, the strategist picked a stick out of the boy's hair and tried really, really hard not to laugh.
"Sakichi, you're going to need to get some more."
"I know," the boy confessed rather sulkily.
"You know, you can bring a blue lantern. Fireflies like to come to those. It's easier to draw the fireflies to you than to chase after them."
"No, I'm going to chase them down!" Sakichi asserted with blazing eyes.
Hanbei chuckled and patted the boy on the head. "Whatever you like, Sakichi, whatever you like."
And so, night after night, Sakichi ran back and forth in the forest behind Osaka Castle chasing fireflies with his net streaming like a declaration of war. Two fireflies, then three, four, five, seven, ten. Pretty soon, gleaming jars lined his room and the boy would pause from his reading to stare in wonder at the bright sea of gently pulsing stars warding off the darkness.
Mornings were different stories, however. At first, Hanbei did not say much when a tearful Sakichi presented him with jars and jars of dead fireflies. The strategist checked for air holes--which were always present--and then recommended adding in some grass and leaves. And yet, despite all modifications, Sakichi continued to wake to dull husks of dead fireflies curled up at the bottom of jars.
"Why don't you release them before you go to bed?" Hanbei finally asked after the seventeenth jar.
Sakichi shook his head stubbornly.
"Sakichi, sometimes, if you want to save something, you have to let go," Hanbei chided.
"I want to keep them forever."
And so, on the summer after the Tokugawa joined the Toyotomi cause and temporarily stayed at Osaka Castle as proof of his loyalty, Takechiyo accidentally stumbled across the sight of a star racing down the hills and into Osaka Castle. The young warlord stared, stunned, and then leaped towards the brilliant star--which soon disappeared behind the screen door of the room glowing like a second moon. A slim silhouette stood against the light, and examined the star.
Takechiyo cleared his throat loudly. The door cracked open a fraction, and a quicksilver eye glared out.
"You're Ishida Sakichi, aren't you?" Takechiyo asked brightly. "I'm Tokuga--"
"I know who you are," Sakichi interrupted. "I'm busy."
"Can I see them?"
The boy paused. No one--not even Hanbei-sama or Hideyoshi-sama--had ever inquired about his sea of fireflies. Sakichi hesitated, and then slid open the door completely. "All ... alright," he mumbled.
If possible, Takechiyo's face lit up brighter than the fireflies. He stepped into Sakichi's room, which, as he would swear for the rest of his life, belonged only in fairy tales. As Sakichi began to gather his stacks of papers, Takechiyo sat amidst a circle of light and smiled.
"Sakichi, this is amazing!"
"I don't recall giving you permission to call me that."
"You can call me Takechiyo."
"I don't care for it."
"Hey," Takechiyo continued as he leaned in close to a jar of twenty fireflies. "They're actually flashing. Why do they flash their light?"
Sakichi, who was already regretting allowing the talkative warlord into his room, shrugged. He placed the papers into the shelf against the wall, and then began to pick leaves and sticks out of the firefly net.
"Hey, Sakichi?"
One quicksilver eyebrow twitched. "What?"
"Can I come with you next time?"
"No."
"I'll bring my own net."
"You can't come with me."
Takechiyo picked up a pulsating jar, and ran his thumb around its cool rim. He smiled, and asked, "And how are you going to stop me?"
In retrospect, pissing off Sakichi, the fastest warrior in the Toyotomi army despite his age, was not the smartest of life choices. Hanbei bit down on his bottom lip to keep from smiling as he wrapped up Takechiyo's gashed arm while the guilty party sulked in the corner.
"You two need to learn how to work together," Hanbei insisted as he applied the last of the gauze tape. "You are the future of the Toyotomi Army."
Sakichi's frown just drooped further down.
"It is Hideyoshi-sama's will," Hanbei added for extra security.
A long silence rolled through the sitting room after Hanbei left. Sakichi twirled his thumbs and stared at the floor as Takechiyo pulled his shirt back over his head. He then turned to the boy who sat so quietly and still that it was as if he wished for the floor to swallow him whole, and then extended his hand. "I'm sorry for forcing my request on you, Sakichi."
The boy mumbled a response.
"What?"
"I said," Sakichi repeated with a growl. "You can come along."
"R-really?"
"But bring your own net."
Eventually, Mitsunari outgrew his low heat tolerance and capturing fireflies became more or less a frivolous competition between Ieyasu and him during idle summer nights. Of course, the quicksilver general continued to capture light through with sheer speed and obstinate willpower. Ieyasu's eyes would tear as he watched Mitsunari zoom back and forth like a bullet. The stockier Ieyasu, on the other hand, did not quite have the luxury of speed--and so he employed an old trick which Hanbei had once suggested so many nights ago to a stubborn Sakichi. The blue light worked quite well, and when midnight struck Osaka Castle, rows and rows of bright jars lined the balconies and filled the stone gardens. An exhausted Mitsunari collapsed against the grass, and Ieyasu took a seat on the balcony. When the moon rose high in the sky, Ieyasu began flipping open the jars.
Those warm brown eyes watched the fireflies, each flickering with excitement, hover briefly, and then soar away.
"Why do you think they flicker like that, Mitsunari?" he asked like an echo from long before.
With a face still full of grass, the quicksilver general shrugged.
"Do you think they talk to each other that way?"
Again, the shrug.
"Do you think they can call to each other that way?"
Mitsunari didn't even bother moving for this one.
Ieyasu fell back onto the balcony and watched a rippling cloud of fireflies ascend into the sky. For a split, humming second, the stars seemed so close, so close and so bright, that Ieyasu nearly reached out to grab his destiny. A dash of wind snapped the warlord out of his reverie, and the brilliant cloud dissipated into the night.
"Hey, Mitsunari?"
"Hmmm?"
"Don't you wish that people could do the same?"
"Idiots who are fatally attracted to blue light should die."
A laugh escaped Ieyasu, and he shook his head. "I don't mean that. I meant, it would be nice to just ... to just call for some one."
"You aren't mute."
"Sometimes, words are not enough," Ieyasu softly said, and then fell silent.
And so, when the world collapsed so quickly around Mitsunari and Ieyasu's betrayal cut deeper and fresher than any stranger blade could sink, Mitsunari left the first jar--the one which Hanbei bestowed so long ago--in a dusky corner where the sun could not shine. Scratches and smudges crisscross over the glass surface of the jar, and rust completely covers one side of the lid. At the full height of the sun, the warlord often contemplates of smashing the jar against the boulders out in back or tossing it off a cliff, but when the moon rises and fireflies flourish across the night, Mitsunari bows his head in defeat. It is summer in Hi-no-moto, and even when Mitsunari lays on the cover of his futon, it's still too hot to sleep. The general relocates to the balcony and presses his cheek against the cool maple floor.
A firefly lands just before his eyes. Light flashes twice along its abdomen, and then falls silent. Mitsunari's eyes narrow, and before the firefly can call again, slim fingers crush its wings.
Sometimes, words are not enough.
Mitsunari rolls the firefly between his fingers, and then throws the struggling insect off the balcony. It's dark now, it's dark here. Stars pulsate weakly in the distance, in the forest, but it's dark here. Mitsunari stretches an arm out, but cannot reach the fireflies. The warm black velvet of night wraps around the broken general's pale shoulders, and hugs tightly.
fin
AN: Fireflies flash light for a variety of reasons, but primarily to attract mates. I don't know if they would have known that in Sengoku Japan, though ...