Where the Road Leads ~ Rurouni Kenshin ~ Yaoi ~ PG
Title: Where the Road Leads
Author: Anie
Fandom: Rurouni Kenshin
Rating: PG for emotional pain ^_^
Type: Yaoi
Pairing: Saitou/Sanosuke
Disclaimer: No own Kenshin.
Etc.: For the seasonal challenge. God, this was hard without color or mention of the season! I tried to use some of the traditional "autumnal" attributes - asters, crysanthemums, wind - instead, so let's hope it flies. The Tale of Genji was a very good book to read. ^_~
Rustling leaves. Sharp wind, like his own katana piercing his heart. Muted sunlight drifting underneath dark clouds.
He hated this time of year. No special reason, except that it hurt. Maybe it was the weather, maybe it was the sadness traditionally associated with the weather, but it made his chest ache in a way that he liked to forget.
He walked down the dirt road - he didn't know where it was going, just that it went somewhere. He didn't care where it went, in all truth; he just wanted it to go on, to continue, to be a path that he could follow to a different place - a different time.
Season of death, season of sadness, season of futility, season to remind him of everything ever lost and everything never gained. The leaves swirled around him as a gust of wind tossed them into the air.
The last of the dying crickets chirped, and frost-bitten asters waved in the breeze. He followed them by the side of the road, staring at their shriveling petals, and listening to the painful song of the insects. This road seemed to go on forever, and he liked it. It was the one beautiful thing about this day. Perhaps if he walked long enough, dusk would fall and bring along a glowing moon, and there would be two beautiful things to make his heart ache all the more.
He heard the rushing of cold water, and looked up quickly. A thin river snaked over the ground, bristling with the voices of water on stone. The road meandered up to it, giving way to a narrow wooden bridge that could scarcely support a small cart. It continued on the other side, still lined with half-dead asters and, here and there, a stand of proud crysanthemums, nodding their heads to the cricket-tune. He wondered when those crysanthemums would die; he mentally tallyed up the days that those heads had until they fell to the ground, withered and lifeless. It was an excruciatingly small number.
He then noticed a figure standing at the base of the bridge, arms crossed, looking over the river. He recognized the fabric tied underneath brown hair, and inwardly groaned. It was the last person he would have liked to see; but then again, this was where the road had led him, and he had decided to follow that path. Perhaps company, even his, would make the wind a little less sharp, the sun a little brighter. Make his heart ache a little bit less.
The figure turned as he approached, and two sets of narrowed eyes stared at each other. They stood several feet apart, glaring, until he decided that he had stopped on the path long enough. He sighed and spoke.
"Cross with me, ahou?" He walked around the other and stepped onto the first plank, and then turned and waited. The other shrugged and, falling into step with him, walked alongside.
Author: Anie
Fandom: Rurouni Kenshin
Rating: PG for emotional pain ^_^
Type: Yaoi
Pairing: Saitou/Sanosuke
Disclaimer: No own Kenshin.
Etc.: For the seasonal challenge. God, this was hard without color or mention of the season! I tried to use some of the traditional "autumnal" attributes - asters, crysanthemums, wind - instead, so let's hope it flies. The Tale of Genji was a very good book to read. ^_~
Rustling leaves. Sharp wind, like his own katana piercing his heart. Muted sunlight drifting underneath dark clouds.
He hated this time of year. No special reason, except that it hurt. Maybe it was the weather, maybe it was the sadness traditionally associated with the weather, but it made his chest ache in a way that he liked to forget.
He walked down the dirt road - he didn't know where it was going, just that it went somewhere. He didn't care where it went, in all truth; he just wanted it to go on, to continue, to be a path that he could follow to a different place - a different time.
Season of death, season of sadness, season of futility, season to remind him of everything ever lost and everything never gained. The leaves swirled around him as a gust of wind tossed them into the air.
The last of the dying crickets chirped, and frost-bitten asters waved in the breeze. He followed them by the side of the road, staring at their shriveling petals, and listening to the painful song of the insects. This road seemed to go on forever, and he liked it. It was the one beautiful thing about this day. Perhaps if he walked long enough, dusk would fall and bring along a glowing moon, and there would be two beautiful things to make his heart ache all the more.
He heard the rushing of cold water, and looked up quickly. A thin river snaked over the ground, bristling with the voices of water on stone. The road meandered up to it, giving way to a narrow wooden bridge that could scarcely support a small cart. It continued on the other side, still lined with half-dead asters and, here and there, a stand of proud crysanthemums, nodding their heads to the cricket-tune. He wondered when those crysanthemums would die; he mentally tallyed up the days that those heads had until they fell to the ground, withered and lifeless. It was an excruciatingly small number.
He then noticed a figure standing at the base of the bridge, arms crossed, looking over the river. He recognized the fabric tied underneath brown hair, and inwardly groaned. It was the last person he would have liked to see; but then again, this was where the road had led him, and he had decided to follow that path. Perhaps company, even his, would make the wind a little less sharp, the sun a little brighter. Make his heart ache a little bit less.
The figure turned as he approached, and two sets of narrowed eyes stared at each other. They stood several feet apart, glaring, until he decided that he had stopped on the path long enough. He sighed and spoke.
"Cross with me, ahou?" He walked around the other and stepped onto the first plank, and then turned and waited. The other shrugged and, falling into step with him, walked alongside.