sen to chihiro fic: mirror mirror (haku/chihiro)
wingblossom requested Sen to Chihiro fic a while ago, and about a thousand years later, I deliver.
MIRROR MIRROR.
Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi copyright Miyazaki Hayao.
The geometry of her face had changed. He felt, without truly knowing, that her round cheeks had fallen steeper, as steep as precipices from which he felt his breath plummet sharply and run ragged down his ribs. Cheeks that were once so red it looked as though there were cherries coloring her flesh were now paled. Her fully realized cheekbones--their prominence in her visage--unnerved him, as well as her thin frame, starkly absent of the childhood softness of limb, of muscle, that had once characterized it. She looked hungry, and not only in the literal and physical sense. She looked starved for the thirst of life. There they stood, staring at each other, he before her, she before him, with her felled cheeks, her dull, washed-out color, and, yes, those eyes. Those beautifully hungry eyes.
In every romance novel, every love story, there are either one of two great climactic love scenes, scenes of complete self-realization. The first, undoubtedly, is one wherein two lovers meet, reunited, at long last, after prolonged absence, perhaps by chance, more likely by fate. It is mid-spring or -summer, the season fully ripe for the taking, and rain is falling.
Undoubtedly, the lovers reunite on a bridge--undoubtedly.
The second is a scene of psychological interest. There is no other, significant or otherwise, no lover beyond the self. Almost, a scene of narcissism. The lover sees his own soul, his true reflection, in a mirror of some sort: and, suddenly, he is fully self-aware. He knows himself well, everything that there is to know, anything worth knowing. He knows his name, he knows the contents of his heart and soul, and he knows the truth. It is as if his wandering soul has returned to him, at last.
They met under a bough of plum blossoms, which sheltered them from the warm rain slanting over the bridge whereupon they stood, facing each other. But this was the second scene, not the first.
END.
MIRROR MIRROR.
Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi copyright Miyazaki Hayao.
The geometry of her face had changed. He felt, without truly knowing, that her round cheeks had fallen steeper, as steep as precipices from which he felt his breath plummet sharply and run ragged down his ribs. Cheeks that were once so red it looked as though there were cherries coloring her flesh were now paled. Her fully realized cheekbones--their prominence in her visage--unnerved him, as well as her thin frame, starkly absent of the childhood softness of limb, of muscle, that had once characterized it. She looked hungry, and not only in the literal and physical sense. She looked starved for the thirst of life. There they stood, staring at each other, he before her, she before him, with her felled cheeks, her dull, washed-out color, and, yes, those eyes. Those beautifully hungry eyes.
In every romance novel, every love story, there are either one of two great climactic love scenes, scenes of complete self-realization. The first, undoubtedly, is one wherein two lovers meet, reunited, at long last, after prolonged absence, perhaps by chance, more likely by fate. It is mid-spring or -summer, the season fully ripe for the taking, and rain is falling.
Undoubtedly, the lovers reunite on a bridge--undoubtedly.
The second is a scene of psychological interest. There is no other, significant or otherwise, no lover beyond the self. Almost, a scene of narcissism. The lover sees his own soul, his true reflection, in a mirror of some sort: and, suddenly, he is fully self-aware. He knows himself well, everything that there is to know, anything worth knowing. He knows his name, he knows the contents of his heart and soul, and he knows the truth. It is as if his wandering soul has returned to him, at last.
They met under a bough of plum blossoms, which sheltered them from the warm rain slanting over the bridge whereupon they stood, facing each other. But this was the second scene, not the first.
END.