[L5R/S7] In their season;
“In Their Season”
L5R, Alternate Universe
Includes original characters. L5R belongs to Wizards of the Coast, S7 belongs to GONZO.
Prompts: wrong room, the price to pay;
Tales from the Firefly House: Interlude.
Kotori had stopped playing eight breaths before Yukino finally slid open the door. The piece was unfinished, but she had already filed it away in her mind. The fall of steps had told her someone was coming and it was only polite that she cease her music-making in order to greet whoever it was properly.
“Ah, Kotori-chan, gomen, gomen.”
The murmured apology prompted Kotori to smile for she had now put the footfalls to a voice. The mistress of the Firefly House was often breathless from the quickness of her pace.
“It appears I have the wrong room again.”
Kotori noted at how Yukino seemed to swallow the words, the manner of it reminiscent to that of a swimmer gulping in air just before the next plunge.
“That’s the third time tonight. Where is that damned Asano.”
The blind koto player allowed herself a small smile as she drew one hand away from the strings beneath her fingers. To Yukino’s statement she answered as if to a question: “Asano-san said he would return within the hour, Yukino-san.” She informed her mistress, “The sake ran short so he took it upon himself to retrieve new kegs.”
“Please,” Kotori continued, gesturing slightly off the mark to the pillows set opposite her. “Sit awhile, Yukino-san. I will play for you until he returns. I doubt that he will be gone for very long.”
She didn’t see Yukino nod, though the woman did. Instead, Kotori heard the shifting of fabric as the youjo folded her legs under her to sit upon one of the pillows. Kotori did not see Yukino turn her gaze to the open window and to the world that lay beyond that, but the words that followed informed her as much.
“It is a beautiful night, Kotori-chan.” Yukino seemed to breathe in awe. “The moon is especially full, and the sky is incredibly bright.”
As she wove the music about them, Kotori tilted her head to one side, giving the brief impression that she might lose herself in the notes that her fingers seemed to braid. The koto player did not see how Yukino smiled, but instead heard the sigh that accompanied it.
It was as wistful as the fog that snuck under the doors in the winter months, as heavy as the mist that built above the crash of raindrops. “I have lost count now, how long he has been gone.”
“I have no doubt that Shichiroji-sama thinks often too of Yukino-san.”
Kotori did not need to see the curious look that crossed the older woman’s face, her handicap had taught her other senses to pay close attention to other things in order to compensate for her lack of sight.
The momentary pause in Yukino’s breath told her that she had touched upon the topic of her thoughts. The soft yield of cloth as fingers brushed away something from the fine cloth of a kimino confirmed for Kotori that it indeed was the former samurai that Yukino was thinking of.
Habits often betrayed people. Kotori could not see them, but she had learned to listen.
“Shichiroji-sama will return.” She spoke with absolute certainty. “Sometimes promises can be enough.”
When Yukino’s soft laugh reached her, Kotori could almost touch the twinge of sadness that laced her words. “How did you know my thoughts, Kotori-chan?”
“Doubt has a certain sound to it, as does every other emotion.” Her fingers plucked daintily at the strings, a small, new song coming to life at their tips. “Each breath has a weight all it’s own, and Yukino-san’s has been heavy with worry, regret and loneliness.”
“You sound like you know what it’s like to be in love, Kotori-chan.”
The simple statement halted the song and Kotori felt her lower lip quiver just a little. Old memories came back to her in snatches, each a song whose notes fell to the metronome of her heart. Another lifetime, another place - one where the world and its colors were still hers to behold.
“Even I have a price to pay for my music, Yukino-san.” She answered simply, and both understood that the conversation had come to its proper coda.
When Kotori’s fingers resumed their little dance, the blind girl inhaled deeply, pouring all her old wishes and all Yukino’s new worries unto the fledgling piece. “Tell me again about the sky, Yukino-san,” Kotori murmured, the music taking seed and blooming forth into the flowers of a home she could only conjure up in memory. “Tell me about the first time Shichiroji-sama taught you about the stars.”
L5R, Alternate Universe
Includes original characters. L5R belongs to Wizards of the Coast, S7 belongs to GONZO.
Prompts: wrong room, the price to pay;
Tales from the Firefly House: Interlude.
Kotori had stopped playing eight breaths before Yukino finally slid open the door. The piece was unfinished, but she had already filed it away in her mind. The fall of steps had told her someone was coming and it was only polite that she cease her music-making in order to greet whoever it was properly.
“Ah, Kotori-chan, gomen, gomen.”
The murmured apology prompted Kotori to smile for she had now put the footfalls to a voice. The mistress of the Firefly House was often breathless from the quickness of her pace.
“It appears I have the wrong room again.”
Kotori noted at how Yukino seemed to swallow the words, the manner of it reminiscent to that of a swimmer gulping in air just before the next plunge.
“That’s the third time tonight. Where is that damned Asano.”
The blind koto player allowed herself a small smile as she drew one hand away from the strings beneath her fingers. To Yukino’s statement she answered as if to a question: “Asano-san said he would return within the hour, Yukino-san.” She informed her mistress, “The sake ran short so he took it upon himself to retrieve new kegs.”
“Please,” Kotori continued, gesturing slightly off the mark to the pillows set opposite her. “Sit awhile, Yukino-san. I will play for you until he returns. I doubt that he will be gone for very long.”
She didn’t see Yukino nod, though the woman did. Instead, Kotori heard the shifting of fabric as the youjo folded her legs under her to sit upon one of the pillows. Kotori did not see Yukino turn her gaze to the open window and to the world that lay beyond that, but the words that followed informed her as much.
“It is a beautiful night, Kotori-chan.” Yukino seemed to breathe in awe. “The moon is especially full, and the sky is incredibly bright.”
As she wove the music about them, Kotori tilted her head to one side, giving the brief impression that she might lose herself in the notes that her fingers seemed to braid. The koto player did not see how Yukino smiled, but instead heard the sigh that accompanied it.
It was as wistful as the fog that snuck under the doors in the winter months, as heavy as the mist that built above the crash of raindrops. “I have lost count now, how long he has been gone.”
“I have no doubt that Shichiroji-sama thinks often too of Yukino-san.”
Kotori did not need to see the curious look that crossed the older woman’s face, her handicap had taught her other senses to pay close attention to other things in order to compensate for her lack of sight.
The momentary pause in Yukino’s breath told her that she had touched upon the topic of her thoughts. The soft yield of cloth as fingers brushed away something from the fine cloth of a kimino confirmed for Kotori that it indeed was the former samurai that Yukino was thinking of.
Habits often betrayed people. Kotori could not see them, but she had learned to listen.
“Shichiroji-sama will return.” She spoke with absolute certainty. “Sometimes promises can be enough.”
When Yukino’s soft laugh reached her, Kotori could almost touch the twinge of sadness that laced her words. “How did you know my thoughts, Kotori-chan?”
“Doubt has a certain sound to it, as does every other emotion.” Her fingers plucked daintily at the strings, a small, new song coming to life at their tips. “Each breath has a weight all it’s own, and Yukino-san’s has been heavy with worry, regret and loneliness.”
“You sound like you know what it’s like to be in love, Kotori-chan.”
The simple statement halted the song and Kotori felt her lower lip quiver just a little. Old memories came back to her in snatches, each a song whose notes fell to the metronome of her heart. Another lifetime, another place - one where the world and its colors were still hers to behold.
“Even I have a price to pay for my music, Yukino-san.” She answered simply, and both understood that the conversation had come to its proper coda.
When Kotori’s fingers resumed their little dance, the blind girl inhaled deeply, pouring all her old wishes and all Yukino’s new worries unto the fledgling piece. “Tell me again about the sky, Yukino-san,” Kotori murmured, the music taking seed and blooming forth into the flowers of a home she could only conjure up in memory. “Tell me about the first time Shichiroji-sama taught you about the stars.”