[FIC] Beat of Destiny Drabble: White Roses
Going by the 'one fic per day' quota nowadays, I think... Or maybe even more then one >.>
Cross-posted to beat_of_destiny
White Roses
Theme: #72 - White, #96 - Death
Genres: Angst/Introspective
Character/Claim: Wufei
Rating: PG/K
Words: 763
Summary: “White is the colour of mourning.” Wufei visits Treize’s grave.
Wufei entered the cemetery silently, a bouquet of white roses in his right hand. He had scoured almost half the world for them, for pale roses were rare, and pure white ones even more so. However, the colour seemed to be the most fitting for now.
Wufei padded noiselessly to the obsidian grave, shaded by a large oak. Stepping in front of the headstone, he placed the bouquet down in front of it, the petals facing the stone. Kneeling, he traced a single finger over the engraved name, gilded with gold.
‘Treize Khushrenada’
He settled himself comfortably in front of the grave and started,
“Hello again, Treize, how are you today? I thought that you might be bored of red roses by now, is the change welcomed?”
Wufei traced a hand over the petals, voice barely above a whisper,
“White is the colour of mourning in Chinese culture, do you know?”
He chuckled softly, self-deriding,
“Of course you do, what don’t you know, Treize?”
He bowed his head, staring at an undefined spot just above the place where Treize should be,
“Why did you let me kill you, Treize? I know that you’re a much better pilot then that. You allowed me to kill you. Should I be honoured? Or should I feel ashamed? Why me, Treize? Because I challenged you?”
He leaned forward, laying his head against the black stone. He felt his eyes fill with tears and wiped them away quickly with the back of a hand, cursing himself for his weakness,
“They couldn’t even find your body. That meant that I did a good job, I supposed, in killing you. The grave may be empty, Treize, but I hope your spirit is here, with me.”
Wufei paused, straightening slowly as he took as deep, cleansing breath.
“I miss you, even though you were my enemy, even though we were together for so short a time. I miss talking to you about mundane, unimportant things, about literature, about art, about everything except the war. I learned so much about you and from you from those conversations, Treize. I miss walking with you through your rose gardens, miss being in your arms. I miss your voice, miss your scent, and most of all, Treize, I miss you.”
Wufei shifted slightly, staring at the bouquet of white roses, slowly stroking the petals,
“I used to wear white for her, do you know? Now I wear white for both of you, both of you whom I loved, both of whom I had killed.”
He shook his head, reminding himself that this was not what he came for,
“In Western culture, many think that white is pure, but I disagree. White is a mixture, a combination, of many coloured lights. It is a chaotic combination, and it is the perfect symbol of my emotions. Treize… I’m so confused.”
Wufei halted, gathering his thoughts slowly. He busied his hands with the roses, smoothing the petals and rearranging their place on the black stone grave.
“Is it worth it, this peace of ours? Is it true peace if it took death, your death, to achieve it? Is peace real if you have to sacrifice yourself, if we have to sacrifice our happiness for it? Is it worth it, Treize?”
“What is the place for soldiers in this time of peace? I can’t find my own peace, my own answers, because I killed the only one capable of helping me find it. I killed you, Treize. Without answers, without you, all I am is a lost soldier and an outcast, unwanted and thrown away in a time of peace.”
“Relena Peacecraft talked much about total pacifism, about throwing our weapons away to have peace. She’s wrong, Treize. Peace isn’t true peace unless people are willing to fight for it. If we throw away our weapons, we would be totally defenceless. Peace would not be achieved, for one can’t take the fighting spirit away from humans, after all. You taught me that.”
Wufei’s hand ghosted over the engraved name of Treize Khushrenada before standing up in a fluid motion,
“I’m going to try and find my own answers, my own peace, Treize. No matter what it takes. After all, I have nothing to lose.”
Wufei bent down, caressing the white petals for the last time before turning his back on the grave. A determined light appeared in his eyes as he walked slowly towards the cemetery gates, never turning back.
Behind him, a slight wind blew, scattering white rose petals around an obsidian grave shaded by a large oak tree.
~Owari~
Cross-posted to beat_of_destiny
White Roses
Theme: #72 - White, #96 - Death
Genres: Angst/Introspective
Character/Claim: Wufei
Rating: PG/K
Words: 763
Summary: “White is the colour of mourning.” Wufei visits Treize’s grave.
Wufei entered the cemetery silently, a bouquet of white roses in his right hand. He had scoured almost half the world for them, for pale roses were rare, and pure white ones even more so. However, the colour seemed to be the most fitting for now.
Wufei padded noiselessly to the obsidian grave, shaded by a large oak. Stepping in front of the headstone, he placed the bouquet down in front of it, the petals facing the stone. Kneeling, he traced a single finger over the engraved name, gilded with gold.
‘Treize Khushrenada’
He settled himself comfortably in front of the grave and started,
“Hello again, Treize, how are you today? I thought that you might be bored of red roses by now, is the change welcomed?”
Wufei traced a hand over the petals, voice barely above a whisper,
“White is the colour of mourning in Chinese culture, do you know?”
He chuckled softly, self-deriding,
“Of course you do, what don’t you know, Treize?”
He bowed his head, staring at an undefined spot just above the place where Treize should be,
“Why did you let me kill you, Treize? I know that you’re a much better pilot then that. You allowed me to kill you. Should I be honoured? Or should I feel ashamed? Why me, Treize? Because I challenged you?”
He leaned forward, laying his head against the black stone. He felt his eyes fill with tears and wiped them away quickly with the back of a hand, cursing himself for his weakness,
“They couldn’t even find your body. That meant that I did a good job, I supposed, in killing you. The grave may be empty, Treize, but I hope your spirit is here, with me.”
Wufei paused, straightening slowly as he took as deep, cleansing breath.
“I miss you, even though you were my enemy, even though we were together for so short a time. I miss talking to you about mundane, unimportant things, about literature, about art, about everything except the war. I learned so much about you and from you from those conversations, Treize. I miss walking with you through your rose gardens, miss being in your arms. I miss your voice, miss your scent, and most of all, Treize, I miss you.”
Wufei shifted slightly, staring at the bouquet of white roses, slowly stroking the petals,
“I used to wear white for her, do you know? Now I wear white for both of you, both of you whom I loved, both of whom I had killed.”
He shook his head, reminding himself that this was not what he came for,
“In Western culture, many think that white is pure, but I disagree. White is a mixture, a combination, of many coloured lights. It is a chaotic combination, and it is the perfect symbol of my emotions. Treize… I’m so confused.”
Wufei halted, gathering his thoughts slowly. He busied his hands with the roses, smoothing the petals and rearranging their place on the black stone grave.
“Is it worth it, this peace of ours? Is it true peace if it took death, your death, to achieve it? Is peace real if you have to sacrifice yourself, if we have to sacrifice our happiness for it? Is it worth it, Treize?”
“What is the place for soldiers in this time of peace? I can’t find my own peace, my own answers, because I killed the only one capable of helping me find it. I killed you, Treize. Without answers, without you, all I am is a lost soldier and an outcast, unwanted and thrown away in a time of peace.”
“Relena Peacecraft talked much about total pacifism, about throwing our weapons away to have peace. She’s wrong, Treize. Peace isn’t true peace unless people are willing to fight for it. If we throw away our weapons, we would be totally defenceless. Peace would not be achieved, for one can’t take the fighting spirit away from humans, after all. You taught me that.”
Wufei’s hand ghosted over the engraved name of Treize Khushrenada before standing up in a fluid motion,
“I’m going to try and find my own answers, my own peace, Treize. No matter what it takes. After all, I have nothing to lose.”
Wufei bent down, caressing the white petals for the last time before turning his back on the grave. A determined light appeared in his eyes as he walked slowly towards the cemetery gates, never turning back.
Behind him, a slight wind blew, scattering white rose petals around an obsidian grave shaded by a large oak tree.
~Owari~