an interlude 1/?
Even though she is far away enjoying herself (as she should be), and there has been no contact between us, I would still like to state for the record, that this? and the upcoming future posts, are all kitsune714's fault. ALL OF IT.
In my usual non-linear way, I'm posting an interlude from the longer story, which is basically the premise that the "K" in Kurosagi really stands for Korean drama, and you know what that means: death and CRYING. However, Kurosaki and Tsurara are definitely not related, not even as cousins. For my non-kdrama friends, Korean drama is like Lifetime movies of the week for women, only with better production values, better acting (most of the time), and a lot more cancer. And mafia. And really improbable shoes for the women. And often lasting longer than two hours.
But on to the interlude!
FIC: No good deed (title of entire story, not just the interlude)
Notes: Absolutely kitsune714's fault. Except perhaps even she wouldn't have thought I'd go this particular route.
Summary: Even Kurosaki knows a fairytale or two.
“Tell me a story.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes - I've read all the novels you brought home, and television is boring. Tell me a story.”
“I don't know any.”
“Everyone knows a story, Kurosaki. You can always make believe.”
“Hmmm, I see. So it's not enough that I lie for a living, you want me to lie at home, too?”
“You've never lied to me. I mean, not outright anyway.”
“Okay. A story. I suppose it has to start with Once Upon a Time? Girls like that stuff.”
“All the best stories do.”
“Fine. I'll tell you the story of Cinderella.”
“Wait a minute --”
“I'm telling the story here, remember? Now, once upon a time...”
“Cinderella was a poor girl with a father and sister. The father was a shiftless, good for nothing type of guy who gambled all his money away as soon as he could earn it, and then there was the reckless, attention seeking younger sister who had all the sense God gave a pineapple, which is to say, she didn't have any. Not to say that Cinderella didn't have faults, for she had them aplenty - she was nosy, argumentative, troublesome,”
“Hey!”
“Shut up. Where was I - she was annoying, and occasionally preachy. However, she was also blessed with kindness, a gentle smile, a strong work ethic, and an overwhelming heart. She was quick to laugh when she was happy, and simple things made her the happiest. She often was tired from fixing all the troubles her family caused her, but didn't complain much - only to her confidant, a stray cat who had wandered in from the cold, one day.”
“Well, with this kind of family, you can imagine that our heroine didn't enjoy being home very much - so she often went into town. To look for odd jobs, find out the latest gossip, that sort of thing. One day she saw a proclamation that said the Prince was holding a ball, and all the young ladies of the land were invited. This was amazing for a number of reasons: the Prince had not been seen for quite some time, in fact had disappeared when he was fifteen years old. His father, the King,” and Kurosaki's voice cracked, “had died in an unfortunate hunting accident, and it was decreed that for the safety of the heir, that he disappear under cover of darkness and grow up, away from any possible treachery. In his place, it was rumored, a shadow prince would rule with the guidance of the counsel. And when the real prince came of age, he would be restored to the throne, and then marry a suitable lady, and become the new King."
"That time had arrived at last, and the Prince was ready to settle down and reclaim his kingdom."
Despite her personal indifference to the proclamation, Cinderella copied down the information for her sister.
On her way back home, she had the good fortune of running into the local woodcutter. As proof of her contrary nature, she considered it extremely vexing. The woodcutter lived in a shack not far from her own home, and therefore she saw him often. Not a day would pass without them crossing the other's path, which inevitably led to them arguing, often over the most trivial things.
Cinderella would state the sky looked stormy and he would retort that the sky was only a bit gray and to not be so melodramatic - that there was more to life than stupid absolutes, to which she would reply, I hope it rains buckets down on you, and he said, likewise. So they continued on with their routine.
Sometimes they would declare a brief truce - Cinderella would notice that the woodcutter often only ate taro buns and steamed peaches, which were fine as snacks, but not as daily sustenance, and through careful planning, left him a tray of 'real food' with rice and vegetables. The woodcutter would leave a neat stack of firewood in front of her door as acknowledgment.
He never returned her plates, and when pressed on the matter, would only shrug and say, “They're only plates, Cinderella, and not very fancy ones at that.”
This particular meeting, he brushed against her shoulder carelessly, and she whirled around to face him. “Hey, plate-stealer, watch where you're going!”
“Watch out yourself, Cinders.”
As particular come-backs go, this was not one of his finer ones, the better ones being 'cheek stingers' that made her fume and seethe and when no one was watching, cry just a little bit.
“It's Cinderella, as you damn well know. This path is wide enough for two people to walk on it, you didn't have to bump me.”
“Well pardon me, I didn't know you owned the path.”
“This is public property! I just meant, oh never mind. Just go away.”
“I was.”
Cinderella bit back the urge to stick her tongue out at him. He was wasting her precious time and she still had to prepare dinner for her family. She rushed on, not realizing she had left behind a very important piece of paper: the copy of the Prince's Proclamation.
The woodcutter, who noticed more things about Cinderella than he would admit to, and certainly not in daylight, in front of witnesses - saw the paper flutter to the ground. He picked it up and read it. He smirked.
“Well it's about time.”
In my usual non-linear way, I'm posting an interlude from the longer story, which is basically the premise that the "K" in Kurosagi really stands for Korean drama, and you know what that means: death and CRYING. However, Kurosaki and Tsurara are definitely not related, not even as cousins. For my non-kdrama friends, Korean drama is like Lifetime movies of the week for women, only with better production values, better acting (most of the time), and a lot more cancer. And mafia. And really improbable shoes for the women. And often lasting longer than two hours.
But on to the interlude!
FIC: No good deed (title of entire story, not just the interlude)
Notes: Absolutely kitsune714's fault. Except perhaps even she wouldn't have thought I'd go this particular route.
Summary: Even Kurosaki knows a fairytale or two.
“Tell me a story.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes - I've read all the novels you brought home, and television is boring. Tell me a story.”
“I don't know any.”
“Everyone knows a story, Kurosaki. You can always make believe.”
“Hmmm, I see. So it's not enough that I lie for a living, you want me to lie at home, too?”
“You've never lied to me. I mean, not outright anyway.”
“Okay. A story. I suppose it has to start with Once Upon a Time? Girls like that stuff.”
“All the best stories do.”
“Fine. I'll tell you the story of Cinderella.”
“Wait a minute --”
“I'm telling the story here, remember? Now, once upon a time...”
“Cinderella was a poor girl with a father and sister. The father was a shiftless, good for nothing type of guy who gambled all his money away as soon as he could earn it, and then there was the reckless, attention seeking younger sister who had all the sense God gave a pineapple, which is to say, she didn't have any. Not to say that Cinderella didn't have faults, for she had them aplenty - she was nosy, argumentative, troublesome,”
“Hey!”
“Shut up. Where was I - she was annoying, and occasionally preachy. However, she was also blessed with kindness, a gentle smile, a strong work ethic, and an overwhelming heart. She was quick to laugh when she was happy, and simple things made her the happiest. She often was tired from fixing all the troubles her family caused her, but didn't complain much - only to her confidant, a stray cat who had wandered in from the cold, one day.”
“Well, with this kind of family, you can imagine that our heroine didn't enjoy being home very much - so she often went into town. To look for odd jobs, find out the latest gossip, that sort of thing. One day she saw a proclamation that said the Prince was holding a ball, and all the young ladies of the land were invited. This was amazing for a number of reasons: the Prince had not been seen for quite some time, in fact had disappeared when he was fifteen years old. His father, the King,” and Kurosaki's voice cracked, “had died in an unfortunate hunting accident, and it was decreed that for the safety of the heir, that he disappear under cover of darkness and grow up, away from any possible treachery. In his place, it was rumored, a shadow prince would rule with the guidance of the counsel. And when the real prince came of age, he would be restored to the throne, and then marry a suitable lady, and become the new King."
"That time had arrived at last, and the Prince was ready to settle down and reclaim his kingdom."
Despite her personal indifference to the proclamation, Cinderella copied down the information for her sister.
On her way back home, she had the good fortune of running into the local woodcutter. As proof of her contrary nature, she considered it extremely vexing. The woodcutter lived in a shack not far from her own home, and therefore she saw him often. Not a day would pass without them crossing the other's path, which inevitably led to them arguing, often over the most trivial things.
Cinderella would state the sky looked stormy and he would retort that the sky was only a bit gray and to not be so melodramatic - that there was more to life than stupid absolutes, to which she would reply, I hope it rains buckets down on you, and he said, likewise. So they continued on with their routine.
Sometimes they would declare a brief truce - Cinderella would notice that the woodcutter often only ate taro buns and steamed peaches, which were fine as snacks, but not as daily sustenance, and through careful planning, left him a tray of 'real food' with rice and vegetables. The woodcutter would leave a neat stack of firewood in front of her door as acknowledgment.
He never returned her plates, and when pressed on the matter, would only shrug and say, “They're only plates, Cinderella, and not very fancy ones at that.”
This particular meeting, he brushed against her shoulder carelessly, and she whirled around to face him. “Hey, plate-stealer, watch where you're going!”
“Watch out yourself, Cinders.”
As particular come-backs go, this was not one of his finer ones, the better ones being 'cheek stingers' that made her fume and seethe and when no one was watching, cry just a little bit.
“It's Cinderella, as you damn well know. This path is wide enough for two people to walk on it, you didn't have to bump me.”
“Well pardon me, I didn't know you owned the path.”
“This is public property! I just meant, oh never mind. Just go away.”
“I was.”
Cinderella bit back the urge to stick her tongue out at him. He was wasting her precious time and she still had to prepare dinner for her family. She rushed on, not realizing she had left behind a very important piece of paper: the copy of the Prince's Proclamation.
The woodcutter, who noticed more things about Cinderella than he would admit to, and certainly not in daylight, in front of witnesses - saw the paper flutter to the ground. He picked it up and read it. He smirked.
“Well it's about time.”