Did you ever wonder? - For willowscry
Title: Did you ever wonder?
Author: redmoonmurder
Recipient: willowscry
Rating: PG13
Other Characters: Niou
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis and all its characters are owned by Konomi Takeshi. Any illegal crap is not intended.
Warnings: Uh. AU, and a cliche storyline about cherryblossoms.
Summary: Niou and Renji talk about folklore under the cherry blossoms.
Notes: I actually drew it first (Image here), and then ended up ficcing it, too, so it might be a bit weird. I hope you like it :'D
"Did you ever wonder why they're pink?"
Pink blossoms swirled around the two, sitting down on the grass. It was spring time, and the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. In the distance, between two hills side by side, the sun was setting. The sky was slowly turning dark, yellows and oranges mixing in with the darker hues of purple and black. The cold breeze of winter was long gone, but there was still a chill in the air.
"That's very cliche, Niou," Renji said. He picked up his cup of tea and took a sip. Beside him, Niou laughed. "Yeah?"
Renji only nodded and set his cup back down. A small petal, so pale it was almost white and not pink, floated down and settled on Renji's tea. He did not seem to mind.
The two of them had gone to see the cherry blossoms that afternoon, under Niou's invitation. Just the two of them. No one else seemed to be in the park with them. It was empty, lonely. It didn't feel like spring. But, Renji supposed, that there was beauty in it. In the strange solitude of being in an empty field of cherry blossom trees, surrounded by nothing but its soft pink petals falling from the branches. Strange, that they were still here, so late in the springtime. Didn't all cherry blossoms bloom in the first week of spring?
"Do you believe it, though? That dead men under the cherry trees make it pink?" Niou asked again.
This time, Renji considered the question. He picked up his cup again, and swirled the liquid inside. He watched the petal move with the liquid. The sake found its way on the petal and made it sink to the bottom. As it settled at the bottom of Renji's cup, he said, "It's an old tale, Niou," Renji said. "That once upon a time, a king had his soldiers buried under a tree of white blossoms. The tree drank the blood of his dead soldiers, so its blossoms turned pink. At least, that's how one of the versions go."
Niou leaned against Renji a moment later. He yawned, not bothering to cover his mouth, and then let silence seep between the two of them a little longer before speaking again. "But do you believe it?"
"No," was Renji's answer. And then he drank from his cup, the lone petal stuck at the bottom.
"I believe it," Niou said. "I believe that the cherry blossoms feed on the blood of humans, so they can look... fabulous."
A snort. "You believe in aliens."
Niou laughed at the comment. "That's different. You believe in numbers and facts, in data. I believe... in what actually exists but shouldn't."
"Like aliens?" Renji raises an eyebrow. Niou laughs again. "No, no, no. You got it all wrong. Believing in aliens is like... believing in Superman. It's not the same as believing in dead people underneath the cherry trees at all!"
"Do explain," Renji says. Niou was always the hardest to understand. Renji waits for an answer, holding the cup at his lap. Niou remained silent for a few more minutes, as if deciding if he should answer. It felt like an age before Niou spoke again.
"Once upon a time, during an age when the cherry blossoms bloomed only white" Niou finally began, most probably deliberately changing his speech pattern for the story. He did that a lot. "There was a man who killed his wife in secret. He buried her under the cherry blossom tree in his yard. He told his son and his daughter that their mother left them for another man. When the time for it to bloom came, the blossoms were pink, and his friends and relatives and neighbors came to admire his tree. Everyone was in awe. The next year, however, the blossoms were not pink. The son, the eldest, asked their father, curious about this phenomenon. Fearing that his son had found out about his crime, he kills him and buries him under the tree. He tells his daughter that her brother has eloped."
Renji felt the need to interject. Or at least, Niou's short pause let him. "Let me guess. The next year, the blooms were pink, and the year after, he kills his daughter and buries her under the cherry tree, so the blossoms are pink again."
Niou shakes his head and stands up. He brushes off the petals that had fallen on him and on his hair. Before continuing his story, he leans back on the tree.
"No. In the same year, he kills a man who was in debt with him and refused to pay. The next, he murdered a teacher. The year after, a man who tried to sell him opium. Every year, the blossoms were pink. His daughter never asked a question, not even when she married. On the year she was pregnant, the first blossoms were white. Her father found her underneath the tree while it started to bloom one night.
'Father, you have not killed this year,' the girl says to him. Stunned, the man stares at her and asks, 'How did you know?'
The girl, now a woman who would bear him a grandson in half a year, turns around to face her father. 'I have known since the night you killed mother,' she said. 'I knew what you did to her, and to brother, and the countless other people buried underneath this tree.' The old man is stunned and could not move an inch. His knees are weak and buckle underneath his weight. 'It's alright Father,' she says to him. 'I have kept your secrets for this long, I will not divulge them. But you have sinned far too long, and you must atone for them.'
The father knew that he was to die that night, but before he would die, he asked his daughter a question. 'How did you know it was me?' His child smiled at him and said, 'They told me. The spirits of those you killed, they are bound to the tree that drinks the blood of their dead bodies and thus turns her blooms pink. I can see them, and they confess me your sins.'
And thus, that night, the father dies. The next day, when the flowers are in full bloom, the petals are pink. The girl and her husband stand under the tree that day, as well as their neighbors and relatives and their friends. Soon, the house that stood on that spot was destroyed, but the tree remained. It was grafted and the young branches replanted in place of the house. Their blossoms were always pink. The girl, too, found herself lying beneath the trees, for on the night she killed her father, she told her unborn son, 'When you grow up, you will do the same to me, as will your descendants to you.' And that is why these cherry blossoms are pink."
The sky had fully darkened at this time, and stars were beginning to show. Renji tugged his yukata closer, annoyed at the sudden chilly night breeze. "How very interesting," he said. "Have you ever considered a career in storytelling?"
Niou only grinned at him. "Isn't it? Mom told me the story when I was a kid, yanno," he said. "Liked it ever since." Niou sinks back down to Renji's level and begins to gather their things: the sake bottle, the cups and the mat they sat on. Once they were all neatly packed in the bag they brought, Niou stood up. Renji held out his hand as a gesture to help him up, and Niou did. He took Renji's hand and pulled him up, as well as helped him brush the petals off him.
"I don't usually tell people the story, though," Niou said as they began walking away from the tree. Curious, Renji asked, "How so?"
"Would you like to know?" Niou grins at Renji. There was something about the way Niou's eyes sparkled in the moonlight. It wasn't his usual trickiness, no. There was something different about it.
The evening wind swept between them, rustling the branches of the cherry trees, and the blossoms shed more of their petals.
A fox, Renji decides, was what Niou looked like then. "Well?" Niou asked again, head tilted to a side. There was definitely a catch.
Renji hesitated to answer.
--
End.
Author: redmoonmurder
Recipient: willowscry
Rating: PG13
Other Characters: Niou
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis and all its characters are owned by Konomi Takeshi. Any illegal crap is not intended.
Warnings: Uh. AU, and a cliche storyline about cherryblossoms.
Summary: Niou and Renji talk about folklore under the cherry blossoms.
Notes: I actually drew it first (Image here), and then ended up ficcing it, too, so it might be a bit weird. I hope you like it :'D
"Did you ever wonder why they're pink?"
Pink blossoms swirled around the two, sitting down on the grass. It was spring time, and the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. In the distance, between two hills side by side, the sun was setting. The sky was slowly turning dark, yellows and oranges mixing in with the darker hues of purple and black. The cold breeze of winter was long gone, but there was still a chill in the air.
"That's very cliche, Niou," Renji said. He picked up his cup of tea and took a sip. Beside him, Niou laughed. "Yeah?"
Renji only nodded and set his cup back down. A small petal, so pale it was almost white and not pink, floated down and settled on Renji's tea. He did not seem to mind.
The two of them had gone to see the cherry blossoms that afternoon, under Niou's invitation. Just the two of them. No one else seemed to be in the park with them. It was empty, lonely. It didn't feel like spring. But, Renji supposed, that there was beauty in it. In the strange solitude of being in an empty field of cherry blossom trees, surrounded by nothing but its soft pink petals falling from the branches. Strange, that they were still here, so late in the springtime. Didn't all cherry blossoms bloom in the first week of spring?
"Do you believe it, though? That dead men under the cherry trees make it pink?" Niou asked again.
This time, Renji considered the question. He picked up his cup again, and swirled the liquid inside. He watched the petal move with the liquid. The sake found its way on the petal and made it sink to the bottom. As it settled at the bottom of Renji's cup, he said, "It's an old tale, Niou," Renji said. "That once upon a time, a king had his soldiers buried under a tree of white blossoms. The tree drank the blood of his dead soldiers, so its blossoms turned pink. At least, that's how one of the versions go."
Niou leaned against Renji a moment later. He yawned, not bothering to cover his mouth, and then let silence seep between the two of them a little longer before speaking again. "But do you believe it?"
"No," was Renji's answer. And then he drank from his cup, the lone petal stuck at the bottom.
"I believe it," Niou said. "I believe that the cherry blossoms feed on the blood of humans, so they can look... fabulous."
A snort. "You believe in aliens."
Niou laughed at the comment. "That's different. You believe in numbers and facts, in data. I believe... in what actually exists but shouldn't."
"Like aliens?" Renji raises an eyebrow. Niou laughs again. "No, no, no. You got it all wrong. Believing in aliens is like... believing in Superman. It's not the same as believing in dead people underneath the cherry trees at all!"
"Do explain," Renji says. Niou was always the hardest to understand. Renji waits for an answer, holding the cup at his lap. Niou remained silent for a few more minutes, as if deciding if he should answer. It felt like an age before Niou spoke again.
"Once upon a time, during an age when the cherry blossoms bloomed only white" Niou finally began, most probably deliberately changing his speech pattern for the story. He did that a lot. "There was a man who killed his wife in secret. He buried her under the cherry blossom tree in his yard. He told his son and his daughter that their mother left them for another man. When the time for it to bloom came, the blossoms were pink, and his friends and relatives and neighbors came to admire his tree. Everyone was in awe. The next year, however, the blossoms were not pink. The son, the eldest, asked their father, curious about this phenomenon. Fearing that his son had found out about his crime, he kills him and buries him under the tree. He tells his daughter that her brother has eloped."
Renji felt the need to interject. Or at least, Niou's short pause let him. "Let me guess. The next year, the blooms were pink, and the year after, he kills his daughter and buries her under the cherry tree, so the blossoms are pink again."
Niou shakes his head and stands up. He brushes off the petals that had fallen on him and on his hair. Before continuing his story, he leans back on the tree.
"No. In the same year, he kills a man who was in debt with him and refused to pay. The next, he murdered a teacher. The year after, a man who tried to sell him opium. Every year, the blossoms were pink. His daughter never asked a question, not even when she married. On the year she was pregnant, the first blossoms were white. Her father found her underneath the tree while it started to bloom one night.
'Father, you have not killed this year,' the girl says to him. Stunned, the man stares at her and asks, 'How did you know?'
The girl, now a woman who would bear him a grandson in half a year, turns around to face her father. 'I have known since the night you killed mother,' she said. 'I knew what you did to her, and to brother, and the countless other people buried underneath this tree.' The old man is stunned and could not move an inch. His knees are weak and buckle underneath his weight. 'It's alright Father,' she says to him. 'I have kept your secrets for this long, I will not divulge them. But you have sinned far too long, and you must atone for them.'
The father knew that he was to die that night, but before he would die, he asked his daughter a question. 'How did you know it was me?' His child smiled at him and said, 'They told me. The spirits of those you killed, they are bound to the tree that drinks the blood of their dead bodies and thus turns her blooms pink. I can see them, and they confess me your sins.'
And thus, that night, the father dies. The next day, when the flowers are in full bloom, the petals are pink. The girl and her husband stand under the tree that day, as well as their neighbors and relatives and their friends. Soon, the house that stood on that spot was destroyed, but the tree remained. It was grafted and the young branches replanted in place of the house. Their blossoms were always pink. The girl, too, found herself lying beneath the trees, for on the night she killed her father, she told her unborn son, 'When you grow up, you will do the same to me, as will your descendants to you.' And that is why these cherry blossoms are pink."
The sky had fully darkened at this time, and stars were beginning to show. Renji tugged his yukata closer, annoyed at the sudden chilly night breeze. "How very interesting," he said. "Have you ever considered a career in storytelling?"
Niou only grinned at him. "Isn't it? Mom told me the story when I was a kid, yanno," he said. "Liked it ever since." Niou sinks back down to Renji's level and begins to gather their things: the sake bottle, the cups and the mat they sat on. Once they were all neatly packed in the bag they brought, Niou stood up. Renji held out his hand as a gesture to help him up, and Niou did. He took Renji's hand and pulled him up, as well as helped him brush the petals off him.
"I don't usually tell people the story, though," Niou said as they began walking away from the tree. Curious, Renji asked, "How so?"
"Would you like to know?" Niou grins at Renji. There was something about the way Niou's eyes sparkled in the moonlight. It wasn't his usual trickiness, no. There was something different about it.
The evening wind swept between them, rustling the branches of the cherry trees, and the blossoms shed more of their petals.
A fox, Renji decides, was what Niou looked like then. "Well?" Niou asked again, head tilted to a side. There was definitely a catch.
Renji hesitated to answer.
--
End.