Arashi fic - Ungrateful Dwarf
Title: The Ungrateful Dwarf (1/7)
Genre: Romance/Fairytale
Pairing: Jun/Aiba, Ohmiya
Rating: G
Disclaimer: None of this happened. I do not know or own Arashi.
A/N: Based on the fairytale Snow White and Rose Red, not to be confused with Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Totally different story.
Props to my beta, eva_lee, fo reals yo.
_____________________________________________________
1.
“It's time for breakfast. Sorry if I'm a little late, but they didn't come back home again.”
There once lived a poor soul named Sho, who for the life of him, could not make things grow, despite his deep interest in gardening - cultivated from the simple fact that he and his two brothers had to actually eat. They lived in a tiny cottage half-hidden in a clearing with oak and magnolia on either side, far enough from the local village that there was no way to buy food on a daily basis, not that Sho had any discernible talents other than reading and writing with which to make money. His measly garden had started with a radish patch beside the wishing well and soon grew as he tried his hand at more common edible roots, like turnips and carrots, but everything seemed to shrivel up just as he thought that maybe, maybe this time they'd have good vegetables to eat.
Much to Sho's dismay, the only things that seemed to grow (besides the trees that stood all around them) were two lonely rose bushes settled in nicely together just under the windowsill to his brothers' shared bedroom. One sprouted deep red roses, bright and vibrant, while the other bloomed pure white roses, peaceful and aromatic; both mysteriously bloomed year round. He'd never tell anyone, but he'd secretly named the red one Aiba and the white one Nino (though he had no idea where the names came from), and would talk to them as easily as he talked to his siblings, while he tended to them with water and ashes from the fireplace.
Sho told the roses stories, mostly of his brothers Masaki and Kazunari and the troubles they would bring home from their mischief in the forest. Sho himself was too scared to enter the woods; he'd heard things, many frightening things about the spirits that lived there, but could not keep his brothers from entering. More often than not, it was Masaki who would drag Kazunari along, the promise of berries and pine nuts more appetizing than Sho's burnt turnip roots on any given day.
“It might not be so bad if they'd actually offer to cook once in a while,” Sho complained to the roses as he stooped below, troweling a layer of ash at their roots with an old pail and shovel he'd had for years. He wiped at his forehead and smeared a blotchy trail across his sun-kissed skin. “Kazu, at least. I'm not sure how well I could stand another helping of Masaki's truffle flavored whey again.” The thought alone caused him to grimace, the bitterness of the truffles and the blandness of the whey coming back to haunt him even months after he'd been forced to down an entire bowl; after all, they couldn't afford to waste perfectly edible food.
The sun was rising higher in the sky, marking the beginnings of a warmer afternoon, and yet Sho was shaking on the inside, worried beyond belief as he tried to suppress his nerves by conversing to the flowers. “They're not back yet, are they?” he asked quietly, though the blooms gave no reply. “I wish they wouldn't do that... stay out all night and make me worry like this.” He held his hand up for inspection. “Look. I can't seem to stop shaking.”
His brothers had not returned home the night before - and while they often disappeared into the woods whole days at a time, he could not help but fear for their safety. There were things in the forest - great beasts and birds that could eat a person whole if they so wished. Sho knew because he'd read books, he'd seen pictures, and so he swore to himself never to go beyond the thicket of raspberries that marked the entrance.
He supposed he should be grateful that they were together and not apart; safety in double, his grandfather's voice rang true in his memory. It had been the old man's motto in life, something he repeated every day until the night he died asleep in his bed. “Never forsake one another. Whatever one has, let him divide with the other.”
Except it wasn't always that easy. More often than not, Kazu simply wanted to be left alone and Masaki was always reluctant to do so. It was Sho's greatest fear that one day either one or the other would enter the forest on their own and something unspeakable might happen. “They can't help it though, can they?” he asked the red roses.
He could tell that his brothers were becoming restless; Masaki was meant to thrive in a crowd, surrounded by people and smiling faces and Kazu often wondered what lay beyond the forest and the village and the horizon at their little house. They were both adept at making up stories filled with exaggeration and a pinch of whimsy and Sho knew that it was only a matter of time until they left him alone (as they already did on so many nights) with a meager existence he was more than happy to have. He counted down every day leading up to their coming of age with a heavy sigh.
Sure, there would be advantages to living on his own. He certainly wouldn't have to worry about growing enough food to feed them all (though he'd wonder if his brothers were eating at all) and he wouldn't have to make everyone's beds in the morning (though he'd wonder if they were sleeping well) and he wouldn't have to make sure everyone had enough blankets at night (though he'd wonder if they were warm and safe).
“It's not as horrendous as I make it out to be,” Sho corrected himself to the plants. “Kazu helps with the housework when he feels like it - and we've finally managed to convince Masaki it's not a good thing to bring home pets.” He mumbled the rest, “Why he thinks that a badger would make a decent pet is beyond me. They might be perfectly fine while he's around, but the moment he leaves, they snap.”
He ran his hand along one of the stems carefully, moving an open blossom enough that he could smell the soft, smooth petals of a white rose. His finger accidentally prodded one of the thorns and he pulled back quickly, tucking the bleeding digit between pouted lips. “I wonder if I wouldn't go crazy with no one to talk to though...” Sho shrugged, sparing the roses a sideways glance. “Then again, I'll always have you two, won't I?”
“You should know that's not healthy,” someone said from behind and Sho spun around, the seat of his pants becoming caked with mud and ash, to see Kazu coming around the corner. As usual, the shortest of the three was covered in beggar lice and briars, tiny specks sticking to the hem of his clothing, around his ankles and wrists. Dried blood and berry juice covered his fingertips and instantly Sho knew they'd been picking through the sticker bushes for blackberries. He also doubted that they thought to bring back any for him, though he really couldn't blame them after last time's failed attempt at a pie-making.
Masaki followed around the corner, a trail of purple around his lips and down his chin, and Sho knew they'd not washed up before coming home. “What did I tell you two about cleaning up before and after dinner? And I'll wager you didn't bother to wash those berries properly before eating them.”
“But they were so delicious!” Masaki said with an innocence that was present only when speaking of cuddly animals and food (oddly shaped mushrooms notwithstanding). “And they fell apart as we picked them, Sho-chan. There won’t be many left by the end of the week, they were so ripe.” He lifted up a hand to lick away the remnants, the flavor soaked into his skin like a candy coating.
Sho held back his usual argument (“Deer pee on those bushes, Masaki!) out of sheer exhaustion and relief that they were back, safe and sound where he could keep an eye on them. Kazu snorted, as though he knew exactly what Sho was thinking, and leaned against the side of the stonewall, his arms crossed derisively. He was growing more and more so lately, defensive to the world, and Sho wondered what it would take to get his touchy-feely brat of a brother back.
“This idiot here,” Kazu gestured toward Masaki, “thinks he saw something last night. Some sort of forest spirit, so I couldn't drag him away from the briars long enough to actually wash him.” He reached up to rub at his neck, his eyes closing painfully in the process. “And as such, I had to sleep against a rock, instead of the moss like usual, just to make sure I wouldn't roll down the hill. All the while Masaki thinks it's fine and dandy to feed the animals all our food.”
“It was just a bunny. I fed it some cabbage,” Masaki pouted.
“A bunny and a stag and some birds and a porcupine... who the hell plays with porcupines anyway?”
Sho watched as his brothers bantered back and forth, diligently holding a smile in so that they did not see and poke fun at him, as they were want to do. It was these moments he would miss the most when it finally came time to part, and he felt as though he should take every second of it in to store in his mind's eye, so that he may call upon it at will in times of loneliness.
“Porcupines are sweet as long as you don't make them angry,” Masaki countered, his voice growing with ferocity as they continued to bicker. He held a soft spot for the animals of the forest - it was clear to them all - and Kazu never failed to antagonize him about it. “And I knew we'd be alright anyway. The angel was there, wasn't he?”
“Wait - angel?” Sho asked, the statement shaking him out of his silence.
Kazu sighed loudly. “I told you, this idiot,” he gestured to Masaki again, “thinks he saw a spirit in the woods. I didn't see anything though, so I'm betting he's finally gone bonkers - kinda like how you will if you keep talking to rose bushes.”
“I'm not crazy!” Masaki retaliated heatedly before deflating in the next second as he turned to Sho for help. “I really saw him, Sho. He was beautiful. It was an angel-man-thing with dark hair and dark eyes and really thick eyebrows.”
Kazu snorted. “Yes. Because whenever I think of angels, they always have thick eyebrows.”
“I know what I saw!” Masaki shouted above them all and Kazu instantly backed down, retreating into his own little personal bubble as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall once more. “I really saw him, Sho-chan. He was magnificent and there was a light all around him and I just know he was there to protect us. He had to be - his smile was so honest and wide.”
Sho stood and took Masaki's face between his hands, using his thumbs to clear away the purple streaks. It did no good and they stayed in place, along with a sprinkling of ash from Sho's fingertips. “I believe you,” Sho said and knew it to be true because Masaki did not tell lies.
Masaki nodded resolutely. “I'm gonna look for him again someday.”
And it hit Sho all at once. The day he'd been dreading was coming faster upon them; he waited for the dreadful feeling to fill his stomach again, but it did not come as expected. Instead, if there really was someone watching over Masaki (and Kazu too), he'd be grateful. “Just be sure to take better care of yourself when you do,” Sho reminded him. “Clean yourself and your food. Take the provisions needed and remember the things you've been taught.”
Masaki nodded again, silently this time, but the smile on his face showed his happiness more than words ever could. Kazu stepped up and took his middle brother by the hand. “Let's get you cleaned up first, before you go making any grand plans for the future.” It seemed as though all was forgiven and it wasn't surprising, the two unable to be ill to one another for great lengths of time. No doubt they would both be off to find the angel soon, never one without the other.
Sho watched with a sad smile as the two entered the house, their fingers entwined.
Genre: Romance/Fairytale
Pairing: Jun/Aiba, Ohmiya
Rating: G
Disclaimer: None of this happened. I do not know or own Arashi.
A/N: Based on the fairytale Snow White and Rose Red, not to be confused with Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Totally different story.
Props to my beta, eva_lee, fo reals yo.
_____________________________________________________
1.
“It's time for breakfast. Sorry if I'm a little late, but they didn't come back home again.”
There once lived a poor soul named Sho, who for the life of him, could not make things grow, despite his deep interest in gardening - cultivated from the simple fact that he and his two brothers had to actually eat. They lived in a tiny cottage half-hidden in a clearing with oak and magnolia on either side, far enough from the local village that there was no way to buy food on a daily basis, not that Sho had any discernible talents other than reading and writing with which to make money. His measly garden had started with a radish patch beside the wishing well and soon grew as he tried his hand at more common edible roots, like turnips and carrots, but everything seemed to shrivel up just as he thought that maybe, maybe this time they'd have good vegetables to eat.
Much to Sho's dismay, the only things that seemed to grow (besides the trees that stood all around them) were two lonely rose bushes settled in nicely together just under the windowsill to his brothers' shared bedroom. One sprouted deep red roses, bright and vibrant, while the other bloomed pure white roses, peaceful and aromatic; both mysteriously bloomed year round. He'd never tell anyone, but he'd secretly named the red one Aiba and the white one Nino (though he had no idea where the names came from), and would talk to them as easily as he talked to his siblings, while he tended to them with water and ashes from the fireplace.
Sho told the roses stories, mostly of his brothers Masaki and Kazunari and the troubles they would bring home from their mischief in the forest. Sho himself was too scared to enter the woods; he'd heard things, many frightening things about the spirits that lived there, but could not keep his brothers from entering. More often than not, it was Masaki who would drag Kazunari along, the promise of berries and pine nuts more appetizing than Sho's burnt turnip roots on any given day.
“It might not be so bad if they'd actually offer to cook once in a while,” Sho complained to the roses as he stooped below, troweling a layer of ash at their roots with an old pail and shovel he'd had for years. He wiped at his forehead and smeared a blotchy trail across his sun-kissed skin. “Kazu, at least. I'm not sure how well I could stand another helping of Masaki's truffle flavored whey again.” The thought alone caused him to grimace, the bitterness of the truffles and the blandness of the whey coming back to haunt him even months after he'd been forced to down an entire bowl; after all, they couldn't afford to waste perfectly edible food.
The sun was rising higher in the sky, marking the beginnings of a warmer afternoon, and yet Sho was shaking on the inside, worried beyond belief as he tried to suppress his nerves by conversing to the flowers. “They're not back yet, are they?” he asked quietly, though the blooms gave no reply. “I wish they wouldn't do that... stay out all night and make me worry like this.” He held his hand up for inspection. “Look. I can't seem to stop shaking.”
His brothers had not returned home the night before - and while they often disappeared into the woods whole days at a time, he could not help but fear for their safety. There were things in the forest - great beasts and birds that could eat a person whole if they so wished. Sho knew because he'd read books, he'd seen pictures, and so he swore to himself never to go beyond the thicket of raspberries that marked the entrance.
He supposed he should be grateful that they were together and not apart; safety in double, his grandfather's voice rang true in his memory. It had been the old man's motto in life, something he repeated every day until the night he died asleep in his bed. “Never forsake one another. Whatever one has, let him divide with the other.”
Except it wasn't always that easy. More often than not, Kazu simply wanted to be left alone and Masaki was always reluctant to do so. It was Sho's greatest fear that one day either one or the other would enter the forest on their own and something unspeakable might happen. “They can't help it though, can they?” he asked the red roses.
He could tell that his brothers were becoming restless; Masaki was meant to thrive in a crowd, surrounded by people and smiling faces and Kazu often wondered what lay beyond the forest and the village and the horizon at their little house. They were both adept at making up stories filled with exaggeration and a pinch of whimsy and Sho knew that it was only a matter of time until they left him alone (as they already did on so many nights) with a meager existence he was more than happy to have. He counted down every day leading up to their coming of age with a heavy sigh.
Sure, there would be advantages to living on his own. He certainly wouldn't have to worry about growing enough food to feed them all (though he'd wonder if his brothers were eating at all) and he wouldn't have to make everyone's beds in the morning (though he'd wonder if they were sleeping well) and he wouldn't have to make sure everyone had enough blankets at night (though he'd wonder if they were warm and safe).
“It's not as horrendous as I make it out to be,” Sho corrected himself to the plants. “Kazu helps with the housework when he feels like it - and we've finally managed to convince Masaki it's not a good thing to bring home pets.” He mumbled the rest, “Why he thinks that a badger would make a decent pet is beyond me. They might be perfectly fine while he's around, but the moment he leaves, they snap.”
He ran his hand along one of the stems carefully, moving an open blossom enough that he could smell the soft, smooth petals of a white rose. His finger accidentally prodded one of the thorns and he pulled back quickly, tucking the bleeding digit between pouted lips. “I wonder if I wouldn't go crazy with no one to talk to though...” Sho shrugged, sparing the roses a sideways glance. “Then again, I'll always have you two, won't I?”
“You should know that's not healthy,” someone said from behind and Sho spun around, the seat of his pants becoming caked with mud and ash, to see Kazu coming around the corner. As usual, the shortest of the three was covered in beggar lice and briars, tiny specks sticking to the hem of his clothing, around his ankles and wrists. Dried blood and berry juice covered his fingertips and instantly Sho knew they'd been picking through the sticker bushes for blackberries. He also doubted that they thought to bring back any for him, though he really couldn't blame them after last time's failed attempt at a pie-making.
Masaki followed around the corner, a trail of purple around his lips and down his chin, and Sho knew they'd not washed up before coming home. “What did I tell you two about cleaning up before and after dinner? And I'll wager you didn't bother to wash those berries properly before eating them.”
“But they were so delicious!” Masaki said with an innocence that was present only when speaking of cuddly animals and food (oddly shaped mushrooms notwithstanding). “And they fell apart as we picked them, Sho-chan. There won’t be many left by the end of the week, they were so ripe.” He lifted up a hand to lick away the remnants, the flavor soaked into his skin like a candy coating.
Sho held back his usual argument (“Deer pee on those bushes, Masaki!) out of sheer exhaustion and relief that they were back, safe and sound where he could keep an eye on them. Kazu snorted, as though he knew exactly what Sho was thinking, and leaned against the side of the stonewall, his arms crossed derisively. He was growing more and more so lately, defensive to the world, and Sho wondered what it would take to get his touchy-feely brat of a brother back.
“This idiot here,” Kazu gestured toward Masaki, “thinks he saw something last night. Some sort of forest spirit, so I couldn't drag him away from the briars long enough to actually wash him.” He reached up to rub at his neck, his eyes closing painfully in the process. “And as such, I had to sleep against a rock, instead of the moss like usual, just to make sure I wouldn't roll down the hill. All the while Masaki thinks it's fine and dandy to feed the animals all our food.”
“It was just a bunny. I fed it some cabbage,” Masaki pouted.
“A bunny and a stag and some birds and a porcupine... who the hell plays with porcupines anyway?”
Sho watched as his brothers bantered back and forth, diligently holding a smile in so that they did not see and poke fun at him, as they were want to do. It was these moments he would miss the most when it finally came time to part, and he felt as though he should take every second of it in to store in his mind's eye, so that he may call upon it at will in times of loneliness.
“Porcupines are sweet as long as you don't make them angry,” Masaki countered, his voice growing with ferocity as they continued to bicker. He held a soft spot for the animals of the forest - it was clear to them all - and Kazu never failed to antagonize him about it. “And I knew we'd be alright anyway. The angel was there, wasn't he?”
“Wait - angel?” Sho asked, the statement shaking him out of his silence.
Kazu sighed loudly. “I told you, this idiot,” he gestured to Masaki again, “thinks he saw a spirit in the woods. I didn't see anything though, so I'm betting he's finally gone bonkers - kinda like how you will if you keep talking to rose bushes.”
“I'm not crazy!” Masaki retaliated heatedly before deflating in the next second as he turned to Sho for help. “I really saw him, Sho. He was beautiful. It was an angel-man-thing with dark hair and dark eyes and really thick eyebrows.”
Kazu snorted. “Yes. Because whenever I think of angels, they always have thick eyebrows.”
“I know what I saw!” Masaki shouted above them all and Kazu instantly backed down, retreating into his own little personal bubble as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall once more. “I really saw him, Sho-chan. He was magnificent and there was a light all around him and I just know he was there to protect us. He had to be - his smile was so honest and wide.”
Sho stood and took Masaki's face between his hands, using his thumbs to clear away the purple streaks. It did no good and they stayed in place, along with a sprinkling of ash from Sho's fingertips. “I believe you,” Sho said and knew it to be true because Masaki did not tell lies.
Masaki nodded resolutely. “I'm gonna look for him again someday.”
And it hit Sho all at once. The day he'd been dreading was coming faster upon them; he waited for the dreadful feeling to fill his stomach again, but it did not come as expected. Instead, if there really was someone watching over Masaki (and Kazu too), he'd be grateful. “Just be sure to take better care of yourself when you do,” Sho reminded him. “Clean yourself and your food. Take the provisions needed and remember the things you've been taught.”
Masaki nodded again, silently this time, but the smile on his face showed his happiness more than words ever could. Kazu stepped up and took his middle brother by the hand. “Let's get you cleaned up first, before you go making any grand plans for the future.” It seemed as though all was forgiven and it wasn't surprising, the two unable to be ill to one another for great lengths of time. No doubt they would both be off to find the angel soon, never one without the other.
Sho watched with a sad smile as the two entered the house, their fingers entwined.