[30² Saint Seiya Themes] "Come spring" Rating G
Title: Come spring
Author/Artist: zhynchan
Pairing/Characters: Deathmask, Aphrodite
List: Bonus list
Theme: #8 "Hope"
Warnings: Gen, a smidgen of sadness here and there
Wordcount: 580
Disclaimer: Masami Kurumada created Saint Seiya, so that means he owns the pretty boys and the shinies. ^^;
The winter comes, with frigid winds that leaves frost on the bare branches. Deathmask hates the cold, and Aphrodite laughs at him huddling under layers of woolen clothing. "You are a creature of warm summer and the sea, while I live for winter and the falling snow," he teases, before tucking a paper sunflower behind his ear.
Aphrodite meets the season with folded paper flowers. Everyday they are different: a small nosegay of scentless violets tied together with green ribbon, a pure white lily in a thin fluted vase for the next, and irises made of delicate tissue tinted watery blue and indigo. But Aphrodite likes to make origami roses most of all. He makes them for a vase by the window, replacing the ones he made the day before. It is ritual of winter, and one Deathmask does not understand.
To his eyes, winter is dead, but Aphrodite sees it differently. "Look, Deathmask," he says. "Kneel down and listen to the roots creeping underneath the ground. At this rate my garden will spread all over Sanctuary." He rejoices at the small bumps growing out of the dry branches. "There's going to be more roses come spring", he adds, as if it is the greatest news.
Winter is cold, with hoarfrost and sometimes snow, but Aphrodite turns to the sun and says, "I miss this," as if the leaden gray sky and mild sunshine comes at his bidding. When he stands in the middle of his bare rose garden Aphrodite--of the sky-bright hair and milky-pale skin--is the only remnant of gentle spring. The winter frees him to be himself, and his smiles are brighter, his tinkling laughter carries above the resting rose bushes. In summer Aphrodite smiles with mockery on his lips, and irony in his laugh, his roses deadly weapons in his hands.
One day he can't keep the question off his lips any longer. "Why do you keep folding these? I'll get you those silk flowers from town if you want."
And Aphrodite looks at him, confused. "Why would I want those ugly things? They're perfect and they never wither, but they aren't mine. These paper roses are just like the roses I grow in spring; I make them with my hands. And--" Here he grows quiet. "I fold them out of hope for a different spring."
"What do you want to change? It'll be hot, it'll rain, and you'll be surrounded by real roses again. Nothing changes."
"I hope that this spring my roses won't hurt or kill anyone. I want them to be plucked only for their beauty, and to be used as tokens between lovers." He laughs at the end, sadly, like he knows it can never come true.
Aphrodite's wish is childish even to Deathmask's ears, but doesn't he hope for the same thing? That one day he will see Aphrodite lying amidst a bed of white roses that will never be tainted by blood, smiling up to the sun as he does in winter.
"Teach me," he says, taking a sheet from the stack of paper on the table. "Teach me to make these with you." He doesn't need to add, 'I hope for this to come true,' because he knows Aphrodite understands.
Aphrodite sits down and guides his fumbling fingers to crease and fold a flower to life. A serene smile hovers on his lips.
-end Come spring-
I finally got my act together! *tinysweats* I was supposed to post this yesterday, except this terrible storm set me back a whole day. If it needed a whole day power outage to get me to write, I'm dreading how the next few pieces will turn out. O_o; Now isn't this a slow start for Deathmask and Aphrodite? ^^; I'll try to get them more like themselves soon.
Author/Artist: zhynchan
Pairing/Characters: Deathmask, Aphrodite
List: Bonus list
Theme: #8 "Hope"
Warnings: Gen, a smidgen of sadness here and there
Wordcount: 580
Disclaimer: Masami Kurumada created Saint Seiya, so that means he owns the pretty boys and the shinies. ^^;
The winter comes, with frigid winds that leaves frost on the bare branches. Deathmask hates the cold, and Aphrodite laughs at him huddling under layers of woolen clothing. "You are a creature of warm summer and the sea, while I live for winter and the falling snow," he teases, before tucking a paper sunflower behind his ear.
Aphrodite meets the season with folded paper flowers. Everyday they are different: a small nosegay of scentless violets tied together with green ribbon, a pure white lily in a thin fluted vase for the next, and irises made of delicate tissue tinted watery blue and indigo. But Aphrodite likes to make origami roses most of all. He makes them for a vase by the window, replacing the ones he made the day before. It is ritual of winter, and one Deathmask does not understand.
To his eyes, winter is dead, but Aphrodite sees it differently. "Look, Deathmask," he says. "Kneel down and listen to the roots creeping underneath the ground. At this rate my garden will spread all over Sanctuary." He rejoices at the small bumps growing out of the dry branches. "There's going to be more roses come spring", he adds, as if it is the greatest news.
Winter is cold, with hoarfrost and sometimes snow, but Aphrodite turns to the sun and says, "I miss this," as if the leaden gray sky and mild sunshine comes at his bidding. When he stands in the middle of his bare rose garden Aphrodite--of the sky-bright hair and milky-pale skin--is the only remnant of gentle spring. The winter frees him to be himself, and his smiles are brighter, his tinkling laughter carries above the resting rose bushes. In summer Aphrodite smiles with mockery on his lips, and irony in his laugh, his roses deadly weapons in his hands.
One day he can't keep the question off his lips any longer. "Why do you keep folding these? I'll get you those silk flowers from town if you want."
And Aphrodite looks at him, confused. "Why would I want those ugly things? They're perfect and they never wither, but they aren't mine. These paper roses are just like the roses I grow in spring; I make them with my hands. And--" Here he grows quiet. "I fold them out of hope for a different spring."
"What do you want to change? It'll be hot, it'll rain, and you'll be surrounded by real roses again. Nothing changes."
"I hope that this spring my roses won't hurt or kill anyone. I want them to be plucked only for their beauty, and to be used as tokens between lovers." He laughs at the end, sadly, like he knows it can never come true.
Aphrodite's wish is childish even to Deathmask's ears, but doesn't he hope for the same thing? That one day he will see Aphrodite lying amidst a bed of white roses that will never be tainted by blood, smiling up to the sun as he does in winter.
"Teach me," he says, taking a sheet from the stack of paper on the table. "Teach me to make these with you." He doesn't need to add, 'I hope for this to come true,' because he knows Aphrodite understands.
Aphrodite sits down and guides his fumbling fingers to crease and fold a flower to life. A serene smile hovers on his lips.
-end Come spring-
I finally got my act together! *tinysweats* I was supposed to post this yesterday, except this terrible storm set me back a whole day. If it needed a whole day power outage to get me to write, I'm dreading how the next few pieces will turn out. O_o; Now isn't this a slow start for Deathmask and Aphrodite? ^^; I'll try to get them more like themselves soon.