Prodigal [January 31st] [Fai, C!Syaoran, Kurogane] [Tsubasa]
Title :: Prodigal
Prompt :: January 31st, “parting words” [31_days]
Characters :: Fai; mentions of C!Syaoran and Kurogane
Rating :: PG
Warnings :: Spoilers for chapitres 210 and 211
Wordcount :: 205
Summary :: He had wanted more than anything to welcome him home.
Notes :: …brb still sobbing X_x;;;;
He has learned, by now, how to grieve.
To grieve rather than cling, to let go and allow them peace, even if you are still learning to believe you deserve any for yourself.
He had wanted more than anything to welcome him home, to enfold him in his arms like parent and prodigal son; but now there is nothing to do but to accept this gift, to open his hands and feel the magic returning to his fingers, his veins.
It beats strongly in his heart, a shining beacon of normalcy, and still it cannot drown out the pain.
(Cannot drown out the echoing sounds of his final words, weaving with those of his Sakura that still resonate inside his head; cannot drown out Kurogane’s voice, turned somehow childlike in his grief, momentarily lapsing from the gruff pillar of strength he knows and into the innocent logic of youth: If he apologised, why didn’t he survive?)
But pain can be a focus, he knows now too; the way he has learned that giving in can make one strong, the way that relinquishing control can straighten one’s spine.
They will bend, but they will not break.
And they will not let his sacrifice be in vain.
Prompt :: January 31st, “parting words” [31_days]
Characters :: Fai; mentions of C!Syaoran and Kurogane
Rating :: PG
Warnings :: Spoilers for chapitres 210 and 211
Wordcount :: 205
Summary :: He had wanted more than anything to welcome him home.
Notes :: …brb still sobbing X_x;;;;
He has learned, by now, how to grieve.
To grieve rather than cling, to let go and allow them peace, even if you are still learning to believe you deserve any for yourself.
He had wanted more than anything to welcome him home, to enfold him in his arms like parent and prodigal son; but now there is nothing to do but to accept this gift, to open his hands and feel the magic returning to his fingers, his veins.
It beats strongly in his heart, a shining beacon of normalcy, and still it cannot drown out the pain.
(Cannot drown out the echoing sounds of his final words, weaving with those of his Sakura that still resonate inside his head; cannot drown out Kurogane’s voice, turned somehow childlike in his grief, momentarily lapsing from the gruff pillar of strength he knows and into the innocent logic of youth: If he apologised, why didn’t he survive?)
But pain can be a focus, he knows now too; the way he has learned that giving in can make one strong, the way that relinquishing control can straighten one’s spine.
They will bend, but they will not break.
And they will not let his sacrifice be in vain.