Truth In Appearances [Amatsuki, Ginshu/Bonten, PG-13]
Title: Truth In Appearances
Author: chibimazoku
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Graphic description of an injury.
Word Count: 599 words
Summary: - Amatsuki, Ginshu/Bonten: genderswitch/lesbians - a prince and her bird
The hardest part was figuring out how she was going to explain away all the blood.
Fetching towels from the kitchens would lead to questions, especially when she failed to return them later. And she couldn't very well soil her clothing without causing a panic. But the bleeding of ayakashi's wounded back showed no signs of stopping on its own. Ginshu watched the blood pool sluggishly in the dirt around the slight, pale form, and made a decision.
Her sandals slipped on the blood-soaked ground as she ran back inside the barrier. She didn't know if the blood belonged to her ayakashi--it was only logical to think of him that way, wasn't it?--or the grotesque spider-creature, and she hardly wanted to know. Leaving the injured ayakshi vulnerable at the gate didn't sit well with her, but there was no helping it. She needed the sheets from her futon to wrap him in. After all, bloody sheets were hardly uncommon in a shrine full of women.
When she returned, the sheets clutched tightly under one arm, the ayakashi was still unconscious. Ginshu found herself giggling in a detached sort of morbid humor as the thought crossed her mind that this was the first time she'd ever seen him be quiet. Hands trembling, she carefully wrapped the sheet around his back. Red spots immediately blossomed on the white fabric.
The ayakashi was easier to carry than she would have expected. Then again, she thought that she had read somewhere that birds had hollow bones, which would certainly explain it. The lightness of her burden meant that the nerve-wracking trip around the edge of the woods to the least used of the storehouses took hardly any time at all, but every moment seemed an eternity. Surely each crack of twigs, each distant sound of voices meant that the other priestesses were about to discover her. But the journey was uneventful, and soon she was able to open the heavy doors of the storehouse and deposit the ayakashi in the cool darkness inside. The floor was hard on her knees as she unwrapped the sheet.
"You certainly are a lot of trouble," Ginshu whispered, surprised by the tremble she heard in her own voice. She brushed a bit of light-colored hair from the ayakashi's forehead. Even unconscious, his face was tight with pain.
Peeling off the ayakashi's shirt was an exercise in careful brutality. Before she could untie the knots holding it on, it was necessary to unstick them from the mass of raw flesh and ruined feathers that was the ayakashi's back. One wing had been ripped off more cleanly than the other, leaving only bloody down and a gaping wound behind. She wondered if he had struggled more with the second one. The bone still protruded from the skin, bits of muscle and bent feathers clinging in strips to it. It was unbearable to look at and fascinating at the same time. She found it terrifyingly incredible that the ayakashi had managed to hold onto consciousness for as long as he had, considering the unbearable pain the wounds must have caused him.
But the real surprise came when the shirt was finally removed. With short hair, brusque speech, and such casual clothing, Ginshu had assumed the ayakashi to be male. But there were the unmistakable buds of developing breasts on the newly-revealed chest. A girl, then, though one would never know it from her behavior.
Ginshu let out a startled breath. "We have more in common than I thought," she murmured, and went to find the bandages.
Author: chibimazoku
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Graphic description of an injury.
Word Count: 599 words
Summary: - Amatsuki, Ginshu/Bonten: genderswitch/lesbians - a prince and her bird
The hardest part was figuring out how she was going to explain away all the blood.
Fetching towels from the kitchens would lead to questions, especially when she failed to return them later. And she couldn't very well soil her clothing without causing a panic. But the bleeding of ayakashi's wounded back showed no signs of stopping on its own. Ginshu watched the blood pool sluggishly in the dirt around the slight, pale form, and made a decision.
Her sandals slipped on the blood-soaked ground as she ran back inside the barrier. She didn't know if the blood belonged to her ayakashi--it was only logical to think of him that way, wasn't it?--or the grotesque spider-creature, and she hardly wanted to know. Leaving the injured ayakshi vulnerable at the gate didn't sit well with her, but there was no helping it. She needed the sheets from her futon to wrap him in. After all, bloody sheets were hardly uncommon in a shrine full of women.
When she returned, the sheets clutched tightly under one arm, the ayakashi was still unconscious. Ginshu found herself giggling in a detached sort of morbid humor as the thought crossed her mind that this was the first time she'd ever seen him be quiet. Hands trembling, she carefully wrapped the sheet around his back. Red spots immediately blossomed on the white fabric.
The ayakashi was easier to carry than she would have expected. Then again, she thought that she had read somewhere that birds had hollow bones, which would certainly explain it. The lightness of her burden meant that the nerve-wracking trip around the edge of the woods to the least used of the storehouses took hardly any time at all, but every moment seemed an eternity. Surely each crack of twigs, each distant sound of voices meant that the other priestesses were about to discover her. But the journey was uneventful, and soon she was able to open the heavy doors of the storehouse and deposit the ayakashi in the cool darkness inside. The floor was hard on her knees as she unwrapped the sheet.
"You certainly are a lot of trouble," Ginshu whispered, surprised by the tremble she heard in her own voice. She brushed a bit of light-colored hair from the ayakashi's forehead. Even unconscious, his face was tight with pain.
Peeling off the ayakashi's shirt was an exercise in careful brutality. Before she could untie the knots holding it on, it was necessary to unstick them from the mass of raw flesh and ruined feathers that was the ayakashi's back. One wing had been ripped off more cleanly than the other, leaving only bloody down and a gaping wound behind. She wondered if he had struggled more with the second one. The bone still protruded from the skin, bits of muscle and bent feathers clinging in strips to it. It was unbearable to look at and fascinating at the same time. She found it terrifyingly incredible that the ayakashi had managed to hold onto consciousness for as long as he had, considering the unbearable pain the wounds must have caused him.
But the real surprise came when the shirt was finally removed. With short hair, brusque speech, and such casual clothing, Ginshu had assumed the ayakashi to be male. But there were the unmistakable buds of developing breasts on the newly-revealed chest. A girl, then, though one would never know it from her behavior.
Ginshu let out a startled breath. "We have more in common than I thought," she murmured, and went to find the bandages.