Silence [HaruToki, Yasuaki/Eisen]
Title: Silence
Series: Harukanaru Toki no Naka De
Characters: Yasuaki, Eisen
Rating: G
Type: Angst
Written For:
aperu_sama [who loves the angst] ,
30_flowers
Challenge: #11 - Daffodil (Unrequited Love)
Silence
Yasuaki. Sometimes you will see that, though silence is usually the better approach, sometimes silence speaks louder than words.
His master had given him many a speech, but most of the time, they just didn’t make that much sense. Yasuaki ignored these speeches, deeming them insignificant until they proved worthwhile.
However, some sayings held certain truths even Abe no Yasuaki could appreciate. Some things are better left unsaid. The apprentice bothered not with the clashing views both sayings brought when placed together, but simply accounted it to human fallacies. He had considered himself lucky that atleast he shared none of their foolish notions of emotion.
Humans were confusing because irrational emotions clouded their judgement and made them say things they would later regret. Yasuaki preferred not to speak when it wasn’t essential, and preferred to leave situations he couldn’t handle untouched.
Eisen was better left untouched.
The young monk was currently sitting in his quarters, his flute, which had once produced a melancholy tune that had echoed through the palace grounds, now lay in its richly decorated box, untouched since the Miko had returned to her own world.
As he walked by, on his way to arrange the facilities to depart from the palace grounds, Yasuaki wondered why his chest ached. More confusing still was the fact that he halted.
He settled for staring at the petite figure looking out of place in the royal quarters, the lack of the general kimono making him look even smaller - weaker - than usual. Yasuaki didn’t know how to help, and found this unsettling. He dared not enter the silent quarters without a good solution to Eisen’s problem.
The palace was empty without the Miko, and seemed even emptier without Eisen’s longing tunes to sweep the servants and soldiers alike in the music, allowing them to forget their circumstances, and for a brief moment return to the safe place they’d left behind.
Even the daffodils seemed to regret the parting of the Miko, but nobody more than Yasuaki.
Time passed normally without her, no quicker and no slower. However, there was one difference; time seemed meaningless. Hours upon hours continued in the same fashion. Nothing changed; every day the sun rose and set again, people talked quietly when he wasn’t around and stopped talking whenever he approached.
Yasuaki wanted to say that it didn’t matter to him. He answered to the silence with his own, hoping the hidden wounds of the people around him would fade if he just kept quiet enough.
The situation did not improve. Yasuaki liked silence, but the lack of flute play around him echoed as loud as any cry. It was unbearable, and for once, he had no solution.
He hung the ofuda around the open passage, knowing that, if the fragile boy was attacked, atleast he’d have done something useful.
The Onmyoji turned around when he saw Eisen direct his devastated eyes at him. The purple of the large eyes shimmered sadly as salty water trickled from them, trailing a path over the sallow cheeks. Yasuaki missed the weak shake of the monk’s head, and the way the boy hung his head at the fading of the deafening footsteps.
His master had never taught him how to deal with these types of situations; it made him feel incompetent. It was better for him to leave. Eisen would find someone to share these emotions, and fix his broken heart. He was not equipped for these situations.
The Miko was gone; it was time for him to depart as well. Some things were better left unsaid.
Series: Harukanaru Toki no Naka De
Characters: Yasuaki, Eisen
Rating: G
Type: Angst
Written For:
aperu_sama [who loves the angst] ,
30_flowers
Challenge: #11 - Daffodil (Unrequited Love)
Silence
Yasuaki. Sometimes you will see that, though silence is usually the better approach, sometimes silence speaks louder than words.
His master had given him many a speech, but most of the time, they just didn’t make that much sense. Yasuaki ignored these speeches, deeming them insignificant until they proved worthwhile.
However, some sayings held certain truths even Abe no Yasuaki could appreciate. Some things are better left unsaid. The apprentice bothered not with the clashing views both sayings brought when placed together, but simply accounted it to human fallacies. He had considered himself lucky that atleast he shared none of their foolish notions of emotion.
Humans were confusing because irrational emotions clouded their judgement and made them say things they would later regret. Yasuaki preferred not to speak when it wasn’t essential, and preferred to leave situations he couldn’t handle untouched.
Eisen was better left untouched.
The young monk was currently sitting in his quarters, his flute, which had once produced a melancholy tune that had echoed through the palace grounds, now lay in its richly decorated box, untouched since the Miko had returned to her own world.
As he walked by, on his way to arrange the facilities to depart from the palace grounds, Yasuaki wondered why his chest ached. More confusing still was the fact that he halted.
He settled for staring at the petite figure looking out of place in the royal quarters, the lack of the general kimono making him look even smaller - weaker - than usual. Yasuaki didn’t know how to help, and found this unsettling. He dared not enter the silent quarters without a good solution to Eisen’s problem.
The palace was empty without the Miko, and seemed even emptier without Eisen’s longing tunes to sweep the servants and soldiers alike in the music, allowing them to forget their circumstances, and for a brief moment return to the safe place they’d left behind.
Even the daffodils seemed to regret the parting of the Miko, but nobody more than Yasuaki.
Time passed normally without her, no quicker and no slower. However, there was one difference; time seemed meaningless. Hours upon hours continued in the same fashion. Nothing changed; every day the sun rose and set again, people talked quietly when he wasn’t around and stopped talking whenever he approached.
Yasuaki wanted to say that it didn’t matter to him. He answered to the silence with his own, hoping the hidden wounds of the people around him would fade if he just kept quiet enough.
The situation did not improve. Yasuaki liked silence, but the lack of flute play around him echoed as loud as any cry. It was unbearable, and for once, he had no solution.
He hung the ofuda around the open passage, knowing that, if the fragile boy was attacked, atleast he’d have done something useful.
The Onmyoji turned around when he saw Eisen direct his devastated eyes at him. The purple of the large eyes shimmered sadly as salty water trickled from them, trailing a path over the sallow cheeks. Yasuaki missed the weak shake of the monk’s head, and the way the boy hung his head at the fading of the deafening footsteps.
His master had never taught him how to deal with these types of situations; it made him feel incompetent. It was better for him to leave. Eisen would find someone to share these emotions, and fix his broken heart. He was not equipped for these situations.
The Miko was gone; it was time for him to depart as well. Some things were better left unsaid.