[Fanfic] Otogi Zoshi: Written in the Wind
I finished watching Otogi Zoshi an hour ago or so. I'll probably write more about it later in my journal, but now... the ending. I don't know what I think about the ending. And so it inspired a teeny tiny ficlet. Just 500 words or so. As it's about the ending, it is, naturally, a little spoilerous. And as this is such a teeny tiny fandom (there isn't even a category for this at ff.net) I don't even know if anyone's ever going to read this, but... anyway. *sigh* That ending. That ending. What to think about that ending...
(And I know I switch from present tense to past tense in the middle. I'm just too lazy to do anything about it.)
Written in the Wind
Every morning when Hikaru opens her eyes to a new day, she can hardly know what that day will bring. School and holidays, rain and sunshine, happy days and angry words all follow each other as certainly as the sun sets and rises, as the tide turns. Day after day, night after night. There's Sadamitsu with his ridiculously straightforward suggestions, Kintaro who never seems to have enough to eat, Urabe with a mysterious line or two, the ever loyal Tsuna worrying over her... and, above all, her beloved brother, finally returned to her.
She is happy, is she not? Was this not her greatest wish, to be again reunited with her brother? And now, finally, the world is as it should be.
The world is as it should be, and how utterly wrong is that.
She hears a distant flute, and her hand rises to her neck where a bright red pendant used to hang. She sees a distorted image in the train's window and turns to look, heart in her throat, but it was nothing but a stranger. When she walks on the streets she hopes to feel a familiar presence, but among all the people of this great city, there is no one for her. She can hardly know what a new day will bring, but one thing is certain: she will never catch that glimpse of red hair and a black coat that she longs to see. Day after day, night after night, the world spins on its ancient track round the sun, and nothing changes.
Had he not promised her fulfillment?
Or had that been nothing but a lie, a line to make her follow him... or perhaps, for him, this was fulfillment? He had wanted this, even thanked her as he vanished. Perhaps, for him as for the world, this was as it should be. How could she know, how could she ever even begin to understand someone like him? She was like a child who had caught a glimpse of a great secret, written in the wind by rain and light, but she had not yet learned to read and couldn't decipher it. All she knew was that this secret had left an ache in her heart that did not go away.
She should have been happy, she knew that. She had a good life, good prospects. A good home, trustworthy friends, bright future - but somehow, she couldn't think of any of that. The ideas of college, work, marriage, possible children seemed much more unreal to her than all she had been through. When you had touched eternity, seen the magic of existence, how could you return to every-day life, be what you used to be, alone with your knowledge?
How could you forget a thousand-year-old love, all the despair and passion...
Your spirit is strong, he had once told her, long, long ago, on a night when she had still been blessedly ignorant. She could only hope that it was true. That she would be able to live through this life, if not happy, at least content, with people who loved her and who were dear to her. And then, perhaps, in a next life, she would not have to remember.
(And I know I switch from present tense to past tense in the middle. I'm just too lazy to do anything about it.)
Written in the Wind
Every morning when Hikaru opens her eyes to a new day, she can hardly know what that day will bring. School and holidays, rain and sunshine, happy days and angry words all follow each other as certainly as the sun sets and rises, as the tide turns. Day after day, night after night. There's Sadamitsu with his ridiculously straightforward suggestions, Kintaro who never seems to have enough to eat, Urabe with a mysterious line or two, the ever loyal Tsuna worrying over her... and, above all, her beloved brother, finally returned to her.
She is happy, is she not? Was this not her greatest wish, to be again reunited with her brother? And now, finally, the world is as it should be.
The world is as it should be, and how utterly wrong is that.
She hears a distant flute, and her hand rises to her neck where a bright red pendant used to hang. She sees a distorted image in the train's window and turns to look, heart in her throat, but it was nothing but a stranger. When she walks on the streets she hopes to feel a familiar presence, but among all the people of this great city, there is no one for her. She can hardly know what a new day will bring, but one thing is certain: she will never catch that glimpse of red hair and a black coat that she longs to see. Day after day, night after night, the world spins on its ancient track round the sun, and nothing changes.
Had he not promised her fulfillment?
Or had that been nothing but a lie, a line to make her follow him... or perhaps, for him, this was fulfillment? He had wanted this, even thanked her as he vanished. Perhaps, for him as for the world, this was as it should be. How could she know, how could she ever even begin to understand someone like him? She was like a child who had caught a glimpse of a great secret, written in the wind by rain and light, but she had not yet learned to read and couldn't decipher it. All she knew was that this secret had left an ache in her heart that did not go away.
She should have been happy, she knew that. She had a good life, good prospects. A good home, trustworthy friends, bright future - but somehow, she couldn't think of any of that. The ideas of college, work, marriage, possible children seemed much more unreal to her than all she had been through. When you had touched eternity, seen the magic of existence, how could you return to every-day life, be what you used to be, alone with your knowledge?
How could you forget a thousand-year-old love, all the despair and passion...
Your spirit is strong, he had once told her, long, long ago, on a night when she had still been blessedly ignorant. She could only hope that it was true. That she would be able to live through this life, if not happy, at least content, with people who loved her and who were dear to her. And then, perhaps, in a next life, she would not have to remember.