[Lamento] Warmth, Part 2
Title: Warmth
Fandom: Lamento - Beyond the Void
Part: 2/?
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Characters: Leaks, Jujutsushi
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: This is a series of drabbles (read: mini-fics) centered around the theme "warmth". There are so many different kinds of warmth in the game, and so many characters longing for it in one form or another, that I thought it would be interesting to collect them all and try to write from their various viewpoints.
Part I | Part II
Warmth
Series Two
Even years later, he cannot explain what possessed him to go.
If asked-had there been anybody to ask him-Leaks would have likely replied, "Knowledge", the term as vast and amorphous, as nebulous, as the actual thing, each question opening up answers opening up questions, an endless spiral carrying the seeker further and further away into a dark infinity.
He used to smile when Leaks said that, a slow lazy curl of one corner of his mouth, the lone eye piercingly direct even through the tendrils of smoke. He would rub the stem of the pipe between his thumb and forefinger, and content himself to stare until Leaks would not be able to control the nervous twitch in his limbs, tail bristling, fingers knitting and unraveling themselves against his will.
He had been subjected to a multitude of stares, and none of them pleasant, and his, though hardly more pleasant, was nonetheless different from what Leaks was used to.
He thought of it as rather more like crossing a river, he said, the waters rapid, only to be conquered with patience and skill-patience to choose the stepping stones carefully, neither too far apart nor too close together, and skill to execute the jumps.
But what if you cannot go further, Leaks said, displeased with having his quest likened to a game of hopscotch.
He, of course, smiled at this, and postulated that one should simply backtrack when in peril.
Leaks found himself unable to accept the suggestion, and that hasn't changed; knowledge is an unfathomable darkness with only one safe path to tread, a path one cannot see, and should one stray too far, with no new answers to new questions, one would be lost forever.
Be that as it may, Leaks would have named "knowledge" as his reason for going, is, even now, careful not to think too much about the irrationality that was also a part of it, however much he despised it, despised himself for not being able to get rid of it-the simple, artless, utterly banal desire for companionship.
He had heard the stories before going, of the man able to coax the future from the stars, the man who could know one's fate at a glance, who would divine ailings and curses with nary a touch. In that, perhaps, lay also a certain measure of envy, of jealousy, that Leaks should be despised while he would be, in his own odd way, appreciated and revered.
In truth, however, Leaks could not deny that he had hoped to find, if not one like himself-no one would ever be like him-or a kindred soul, then at least a man of vision.
It was not a sufficient explanation for what finally made him choose to move his steps, to venture from his hiding place and into the monster den, for even if the man could indeed see what lay beneath, what was to say that he was any different from others, countless others, all of them?
Whatever it was, though, it had led him to that place, dangerously close to civilization, to the others, a small temple of dark gray stone, overgrown with moss and fern, its great decorations dislodged and askew, long fallen into disrepair.
Idly, Leaks wondered how anyone so well-respected would settle for such dilapidated lodgings, as he cautiously set foot across the threshold.
"Because it is easier to tell the truth when one has a certain repute for… eccentricity," a disembodied voice rebounded from the naked walls, causing him to flinch.
Next to a hearth with a flickering fire sat the enchantment master, cross-legged and in the middle of concocting some kind of drought, though he seemed to work without even looking, instead staring at his visitor with a single gleaming eye, the other half of his face hidden by a mask of bone.
For a moment, Leaks was too surprised to be wary.
"How did-?"
"-I know?" the enchantment master finished, and for some reason, though his voice sounded calm, almost airy, Leaks could not shake the feeling that the man was laughing at him. "You were thinking it, of course."
Leaks stared at him, searching in his face for any kind of indication of a lie.
"And now you are wondering whether I can read your mind, aren't you, boy?" the enchantment master said, his busy hands never straying from their work. "Of course I can. How often, do you think, have I seen the same bewildered stare?"
Against his will, Leaks felt his cheeks grow hot, ashamed at being bested at a game of simple verbal trickery.
"But enough of that," the enchantment master continued. "I suppose you have come here for something other than the sights."
"Can't you tell?" Leaks challenged, the man too strange to seem threatening, his own pride making him brash.
"Oh, I could tell you," the man said. "I could tell you why you came, the real reason that is beyond your understanding, hidden in your heart of hearts. A wish as old as the first spark of awareness behind your eyes, I daresay."
He was still smiling as he said it, the same lazy expression Leaks would see on his face countless times afterwards, but his eye was not smiling. And then, the hardness faded away, leaving only calm amusement.
"I'd much prefer you tell me, since company is scarce and words are scarcer."
When Leaks did not immediately answer, too stunned by the man's barely perceptible changes, he went back to paying attention to his work, grinding herbs to dust and adding them to the largest bowl.
"I…"
"Hm?" the man said, immediately subjecting him to his stare again.
"I wish to learn from you. I wish you would teach me." Leaks returned his stare with narrowed eyes, daring the enchantment master to test him, to question his motives or scoff at his plans.
The enchantment master's smile widened, his tail giving a pleased flick as he beckoned him with one dust-covered hand. "Very well."
----
The enchantment master was unlike any person Leaks had ever met, though granted, most of them had not bothered to reveal themselves as any kind of person besides a zealot. He, though, was always calm, seemed perpetually amused, as if everything Leaks said and did were some private joke between him and the universe, incomprehensible to outsiders. At first, it irked Leaks endlessly, which only seemed to contribute to the man's amusement, so after a while, he learned to accept it.
He learned to accept many things, even such ludicrous concepts as the man refusing to reveal his name.
"What should I call you?" Leaks had asked, his first question after he had been bidden to sit down.
"What do others call me?"
Leaks had blinked at the odd question, but since the man stayed silent, he thought he was expected to answer. "They call you the diviner. They say you're an enchantment master."
"Hmm," the enchantment master said, his lips lifting in a sharp grin. "Just 'master' will suffice, then."
Leaks had frowned, consternated and disconcerted at the sentiment of something that seemed to color these words, but which he could not readily identify. "Don't you have a real name, master?"
"Hmm. Stay here long enough, and I might tell you."
----
Leaks did stay, for what seemed to him like an inordinately long time, hard-pressed to adopt the role of the pupil when the master was so... peculiar.
It was almost a month before the master allowed him to do anything besides fetching water from a nearby spring.
"No," he would say, peering into the bucket Leaks had brought. "You have disturbed its flow. It can't be used now. Bring another."
For the longest time, Leaks did not understand, thought the master was mad, contemplated leaving with every bucket that was not good enough, until there began in him a curious awareness, a sensitivity towards the essence of the spring, a delicate stream of energy. He found, if he listened to the stream, he could scoop up water without disturbing its essence, until finally, the master agreed, and introduced him to the grinding of herbs, a mind-numbing task that again took months, until Leaks could feel the irregularity of the crushed fragments through his mortar.
And so it went, one task at a time, until Leaks had learned to perfect it, and learned to appreciate the numbness that came from a day of sitting stiff and cross-legged, poring over concoctions until he could tell them apart by the finest nuances of scent. The hard stone floor was a blessing on his aching back, and sleep was never far off as soon as he curled up on one of the grass mats laid out in a corner of the cave-like shrine.
The master never went to bed before him and always rose before him, as well, though his mats appeared spotless and undisturbed, leading Leaks to wonder, only half in jest, whether the master slept at all.
----
The one thing that fascinated Leaks the most was studying the stars, even though the master had informed him, with some regret, that he lacked the gift of "true" foresight. Everyone could learn to divine a little from the darkened skies, he explained, but it was only for a select few to truly talk with the stars.
Leaks had flushed in humiliation, shame and anger clenching in his belly at the thought that he should be mediocre here, when he excelled everywhere else, and that no amount of practice would be able to make up for it.
"There are other ways of looking at the stars," the master had said, almost soothingly despite his continual amusement, "You just need to find them."
Back then, Leaks had not understood what he meant, but had allowed himself to be pacified with the master's promise to teach him everything that was possible to teach.
He was surprised and disappointed, however, to learn that he would never be able to read his own star, the star the master had pointed out as the one connected to his birth.
"Nobody can," the master said, smiling and drawing on his pipe, the thin wisps of smoke curling in the cool air. "There is not a diviner in the world who can read their own star, but then again, why be so interested in your own when there a myriads of them that do deign to speak?"
"Which one is yours?" Leaks asked, a tactless question which he should have known better than to voice.
The master tilted his head back, letting his half-lidded gaze sweep across the night sky. "Hmmm. Which one indeed, I wonder."
Silence descended between them, as it often had in the long hours of working side by side, until the master finally leaned forward again, taking another drag of his pipe. "You are not going to ask me to tell you about yours?"
Leaks shook his head, having decided on it just this instant. "I won't depend on what some cosmic fabrication has in store for me. For the better or worse, I want to be the master of my own fortune. Besides," he added, chancing a sidelong glance at the master only to catch him watching attentively again, "I have a feeling you wouldn't have told me if I'd asked."
The master's laughter took him by surprise, a soft, but nonetheless heartfelt outburst of hilarity, yet Leaks didn't have the feeling that he was being laughed at.
"Hmm. Perhaps." He paused, the mysterious smile back in place. "I will tell you two things, though. You have the power to accomplish great things, though it is entirely up to you whether they are beautiful or terrible."
"And the other?"
"Hmm," the master said. "The second one is that your stay here is nearing its end. I suppose you have earned your way there."
His smile changed, then, something warmer and less mysterious, though just as mystifying, hovering at the edges of his mouth. And something equally mystifying was suddenly squirming in Leaks' chest, even though he couldn't know, he couldn't be sure…
"Yes, why not," the master said, his voice barely above a murmur, half lost on the wind.
To this day, the words lie close to his heart, a strange echo from another time, when there was another him. For all the things he learned from the master, for all the things he has learned since, he has never been able to comprehend why. They are just words, arbitrary sounds to form arbitrary meaning, just a voice with a certain lilt and pitch, nothing that should be by any means special, and yet, the squirming in his chest is still there when he listens, almost involuntarily.
"My name is…"
----
FIN
A/N: C&C is very welcome. ^^ Now for the obligatory authorial blabbing:
- Leaks is a very interesting character to write-there is very little to go by on what he was like when he was still sane, but he was most likely a highly intellectual guy, who was being eaten by his own complexes and doubts without ever realizing it. I was interested in writing a younger, less experienced and less cynical Leaks, who might be able to still derive a measure of goodness from contact with Jujutsushi, before he turned into a total misanthrope. XD
- Jujutsushi is punning on his own name here, since "jujutsushi" literally means "enchantment master". Everyone in the game just addresses him as that, and his real name is never revealed. I did not want to give him one, either, since I believe it takes away from the mystery of his character.
<< Return to Part I?
<< Return to Lamento Index | Return to Fanfiction Index >>
Fandom: Lamento - Beyond the Void
Part: 2/?
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Characters: Leaks, Jujutsushi
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: This is a series of drabbles (read: mini-fics) centered around the theme "warmth". There are so many different kinds of warmth in the game, and so many characters longing for it in one form or another, that I thought it would be interesting to collect them all and try to write from their various viewpoints.
Part I | Part II
Warmth
Series Two
Even years later, he cannot explain what possessed him to go.
If asked-had there been anybody to ask him-Leaks would have likely replied, "Knowledge", the term as vast and amorphous, as nebulous, as the actual thing, each question opening up answers opening up questions, an endless spiral carrying the seeker further and further away into a dark infinity.
He used to smile when Leaks said that, a slow lazy curl of one corner of his mouth, the lone eye piercingly direct even through the tendrils of smoke. He would rub the stem of the pipe between his thumb and forefinger, and content himself to stare until Leaks would not be able to control the nervous twitch in his limbs, tail bristling, fingers knitting and unraveling themselves against his will.
He had been subjected to a multitude of stares, and none of them pleasant, and his, though hardly more pleasant, was nonetheless different from what Leaks was used to.
He thought of it as rather more like crossing a river, he said, the waters rapid, only to be conquered with patience and skill-patience to choose the stepping stones carefully, neither too far apart nor too close together, and skill to execute the jumps.
But what if you cannot go further, Leaks said, displeased with having his quest likened to a game of hopscotch.
He, of course, smiled at this, and postulated that one should simply backtrack when in peril.
Leaks found himself unable to accept the suggestion, and that hasn't changed; knowledge is an unfathomable darkness with only one safe path to tread, a path one cannot see, and should one stray too far, with no new answers to new questions, one would be lost forever.
Be that as it may, Leaks would have named "knowledge" as his reason for going, is, even now, careful not to think too much about the irrationality that was also a part of it, however much he despised it, despised himself for not being able to get rid of it-the simple, artless, utterly banal desire for companionship.
He had heard the stories before going, of the man able to coax the future from the stars, the man who could know one's fate at a glance, who would divine ailings and curses with nary a touch. In that, perhaps, lay also a certain measure of envy, of jealousy, that Leaks should be despised while he would be, in his own odd way, appreciated and revered.
In truth, however, Leaks could not deny that he had hoped to find, if not one like himself-no one would ever be like him-or a kindred soul, then at least a man of vision.
It was not a sufficient explanation for what finally made him choose to move his steps, to venture from his hiding place and into the monster den, for even if the man could indeed see what lay beneath, what was to say that he was any different from others, countless others, all of them?
Whatever it was, though, it had led him to that place, dangerously close to civilization, to the others, a small temple of dark gray stone, overgrown with moss and fern, its great decorations dislodged and askew, long fallen into disrepair.
Idly, Leaks wondered how anyone so well-respected would settle for such dilapidated lodgings, as he cautiously set foot across the threshold.
"Because it is easier to tell the truth when one has a certain repute for… eccentricity," a disembodied voice rebounded from the naked walls, causing him to flinch.
Next to a hearth with a flickering fire sat the enchantment master, cross-legged and in the middle of concocting some kind of drought, though he seemed to work without even looking, instead staring at his visitor with a single gleaming eye, the other half of his face hidden by a mask of bone.
For a moment, Leaks was too surprised to be wary.
"How did-?"
"-I know?" the enchantment master finished, and for some reason, though his voice sounded calm, almost airy, Leaks could not shake the feeling that the man was laughing at him. "You were thinking it, of course."
Leaks stared at him, searching in his face for any kind of indication of a lie.
"And now you are wondering whether I can read your mind, aren't you, boy?" the enchantment master said, his busy hands never straying from their work. "Of course I can. How often, do you think, have I seen the same bewildered stare?"
Against his will, Leaks felt his cheeks grow hot, ashamed at being bested at a game of simple verbal trickery.
"But enough of that," the enchantment master continued. "I suppose you have come here for something other than the sights."
"Can't you tell?" Leaks challenged, the man too strange to seem threatening, his own pride making him brash.
"Oh, I could tell you," the man said. "I could tell you why you came, the real reason that is beyond your understanding, hidden in your heart of hearts. A wish as old as the first spark of awareness behind your eyes, I daresay."
He was still smiling as he said it, the same lazy expression Leaks would see on his face countless times afterwards, but his eye was not smiling. And then, the hardness faded away, leaving only calm amusement.
"I'd much prefer you tell me, since company is scarce and words are scarcer."
When Leaks did not immediately answer, too stunned by the man's barely perceptible changes, he went back to paying attention to his work, grinding herbs to dust and adding them to the largest bowl.
"I…"
"Hm?" the man said, immediately subjecting him to his stare again.
"I wish to learn from you. I wish you would teach me." Leaks returned his stare with narrowed eyes, daring the enchantment master to test him, to question his motives or scoff at his plans.
The enchantment master's smile widened, his tail giving a pleased flick as he beckoned him with one dust-covered hand. "Very well."
----
The enchantment master was unlike any person Leaks had ever met, though granted, most of them had not bothered to reveal themselves as any kind of person besides a zealot. He, though, was always calm, seemed perpetually amused, as if everything Leaks said and did were some private joke between him and the universe, incomprehensible to outsiders. At first, it irked Leaks endlessly, which only seemed to contribute to the man's amusement, so after a while, he learned to accept it.
He learned to accept many things, even such ludicrous concepts as the man refusing to reveal his name.
"What should I call you?" Leaks had asked, his first question after he had been bidden to sit down.
"What do others call me?"
Leaks had blinked at the odd question, but since the man stayed silent, he thought he was expected to answer. "They call you the diviner. They say you're an enchantment master."
"Hmm," the enchantment master said, his lips lifting in a sharp grin. "Just 'master' will suffice, then."
Leaks had frowned, consternated and disconcerted at the sentiment of something that seemed to color these words, but which he could not readily identify. "Don't you have a real name, master?"
"Hmm. Stay here long enough, and I might tell you."
----
Leaks did stay, for what seemed to him like an inordinately long time, hard-pressed to adopt the role of the pupil when the master was so... peculiar.
It was almost a month before the master allowed him to do anything besides fetching water from a nearby spring.
"No," he would say, peering into the bucket Leaks had brought. "You have disturbed its flow. It can't be used now. Bring another."
For the longest time, Leaks did not understand, thought the master was mad, contemplated leaving with every bucket that was not good enough, until there began in him a curious awareness, a sensitivity towards the essence of the spring, a delicate stream of energy. He found, if he listened to the stream, he could scoop up water without disturbing its essence, until finally, the master agreed, and introduced him to the grinding of herbs, a mind-numbing task that again took months, until Leaks could feel the irregularity of the crushed fragments through his mortar.
And so it went, one task at a time, until Leaks had learned to perfect it, and learned to appreciate the numbness that came from a day of sitting stiff and cross-legged, poring over concoctions until he could tell them apart by the finest nuances of scent. The hard stone floor was a blessing on his aching back, and sleep was never far off as soon as he curled up on one of the grass mats laid out in a corner of the cave-like shrine.
The master never went to bed before him and always rose before him, as well, though his mats appeared spotless and undisturbed, leading Leaks to wonder, only half in jest, whether the master slept at all.
----
The one thing that fascinated Leaks the most was studying the stars, even though the master had informed him, with some regret, that he lacked the gift of "true" foresight. Everyone could learn to divine a little from the darkened skies, he explained, but it was only for a select few to truly talk with the stars.
Leaks had flushed in humiliation, shame and anger clenching in his belly at the thought that he should be mediocre here, when he excelled everywhere else, and that no amount of practice would be able to make up for it.
"There are other ways of looking at the stars," the master had said, almost soothingly despite his continual amusement, "You just need to find them."
Back then, Leaks had not understood what he meant, but had allowed himself to be pacified with the master's promise to teach him everything that was possible to teach.
He was surprised and disappointed, however, to learn that he would never be able to read his own star, the star the master had pointed out as the one connected to his birth.
"Nobody can," the master said, smiling and drawing on his pipe, the thin wisps of smoke curling in the cool air. "There is not a diviner in the world who can read their own star, but then again, why be so interested in your own when there a myriads of them that do deign to speak?"
"Which one is yours?" Leaks asked, a tactless question which he should have known better than to voice.
The master tilted his head back, letting his half-lidded gaze sweep across the night sky. "Hmmm. Which one indeed, I wonder."
Silence descended between them, as it often had in the long hours of working side by side, until the master finally leaned forward again, taking another drag of his pipe. "You are not going to ask me to tell you about yours?"
Leaks shook his head, having decided on it just this instant. "I won't depend on what some cosmic fabrication has in store for me. For the better or worse, I want to be the master of my own fortune. Besides," he added, chancing a sidelong glance at the master only to catch him watching attentively again, "I have a feeling you wouldn't have told me if I'd asked."
The master's laughter took him by surprise, a soft, but nonetheless heartfelt outburst of hilarity, yet Leaks didn't have the feeling that he was being laughed at.
"Hmm. Perhaps." He paused, the mysterious smile back in place. "I will tell you two things, though. You have the power to accomplish great things, though it is entirely up to you whether they are beautiful or terrible."
"And the other?"
"Hmm," the master said. "The second one is that your stay here is nearing its end. I suppose you have earned your way there."
His smile changed, then, something warmer and less mysterious, though just as mystifying, hovering at the edges of his mouth. And something equally mystifying was suddenly squirming in Leaks' chest, even though he couldn't know, he couldn't be sure…
"Yes, why not," the master said, his voice barely above a murmur, half lost on the wind.
To this day, the words lie close to his heart, a strange echo from another time, when there was another him. For all the things he learned from the master, for all the things he has learned since, he has never been able to comprehend why. They are just words, arbitrary sounds to form arbitrary meaning, just a voice with a certain lilt and pitch, nothing that should be by any means special, and yet, the squirming in his chest is still there when he listens, almost involuntarily.
"My name is…"
----
FIN
A/N: C&C is very welcome. ^^ Now for the obligatory authorial blabbing:
- Leaks is a very interesting character to write-there is very little to go by on what he was like when he was still sane, but he was most likely a highly intellectual guy, who was being eaten by his own complexes and doubts without ever realizing it. I was interested in writing a younger, less experienced and less cynical Leaks, who might be able to still derive a measure of goodness from contact with Jujutsushi, before he turned into a total misanthrope. XD
- Jujutsushi is punning on his own name here, since "jujutsushi" literally means "enchantment master". Everyone in the game just addresses him as that, and his real name is never revealed. I did not want to give him one, either, since I believe it takes away from the mystery of his character.
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