The Wolverine, "The Tea is Warm" Mariko/Yukio || rated PG
Fandom: The Wolverine
Title: The Tea is Warm
Author: Paynesgrey
Characters/Pairings: Yukio, Mariko, slight Mariko/Yukio
Rating: PG
Word Count: 621
Warnings: None.
Author's Notes: pre-Movie. Written for the "rebel" prompt for the Summer Mini Challenge.
Other link: AO3
Summary: Yukio's comfort is as warm as tea.
The tea is hot when Mariko sheds warm tears down her battered cheek. She bows her head, the shame shielded under her eyelashes. She does not meet Yukio’s hardened expression.
Mariko lifts her gaze lightly. She stares as Yukio grips her sword, her knuckles the color of snow and the skin tight across bone.
Her lips part, and she releases a light gasp as Yukio’s tense fingers release the hilt of the sword, sweep up and delicately stroke the bruise her father has given her.
Mariko leans into Yukio’s hand, enjoying the softness and comfort her friend offers. Her father’s angry words fade and all she could feel is Yukio and the hot tea cup against her knee.
*
*
*
Mariko can still feel the warmth of tea in her throat as she rests her head in Yukio’s lap. The sounds of cool water from the pond bleed into the room, and words unspoken fill their space.
Mariko is content to close her eyes and consume Yukio’s warmth. She can feel Yukio’s thigh muscles tensing underneath her cheek. Yukio remains solid like a statue, but soft as a warm shroud.
She knows how much her sister in spirit wants to rebel against her father and defend her, but she can only offer her comfort. Only rarely does Mariko allow it. Soon, she will get up and Mariko will abandon her time with Yukio for her grandfather’s last days and her father’s wishes to spend time with a fool.
Mariko will leave Yukio’s email unanswered. She will meet her eyes only briefly when Yukio tries to search through her soul like a dense pool, hoping for a plea for help.
She doesn’t want her friend, her sister, to see the sadness and emptiness that Mariko feels every day.
“I will bring him back. We will save Yashida-sama,” Yukio says, her voice like a blade slicing through the tranquility of the room.
Her words give Mariko as much comfort as the now lukewarm tea at her knees.
*
*
*
The tea is cold when the sun sets and the glittering stars map the skies. Mariko feels her eyes go heavy as Yukio rests next to her, lying on her side. Mariko listens to her sister’s breathing, and it reminds her of a focused chant.
Mariko shifts her body, facing Yukio on her side. The woman is staring at her, almost through her, with old warrior’s eyes. Mariko reaches out and grabs her hand, entwining their fingers.
Yukio’s smile is small and brief, but she still holds on.
“You remember when we were kids,” Mariko says.
“You used to hold my hand while we slept next to each other,” Yukio continues for her. “You wanted to comfort me because of my nightmares.”
“You did the same for me,” Mariko says.
“I try to chase away your nightmares now,” Yukio says, and Mariko’s smile fades. “But I fear they are too big for me to fight.” Despite the fear, Mariko sees boldness in Yukio’s eyes and tension in her jaw. Her fingers tighten in their grasp, and she wonders if by instinct Yukio grabs her sword before her body fulfills the need to breathe.
“This…” Mariko says, “This is enough.” She draws Yukio closer, the embrace warmer than the blanket they share. Mariko’s hand slides through Yukio’s hair, and Yukio breathes against Mariko’s neck. Mariko’s hand settles on the back of Yukio’s skull, and Yukio wraps her arms around Mariko’s waist. Sleep finds them as they fall deeply into their comfortable bond.
The moonlight reaches over their toes, and the night becomes colder.
Mariko’s sadness is tucked away, and Yukio’s presence and strength settle like a shield around them, warmer than any fresh tea and sharper than any blade.
End
Title: The Tea is Warm
Author: Paynesgrey
Characters/Pairings: Yukio, Mariko, slight Mariko/Yukio
Rating: PG
Word Count: 621
Warnings: None.
Author's Notes: pre-Movie. Written for the "rebel" prompt for the Summer Mini Challenge.
Other link: AO3
Summary: Yukio's comfort is as warm as tea.
The tea is hot when Mariko sheds warm tears down her battered cheek. She bows her head, the shame shielded under her eyelashes. She does not meet Yukio’s hardened expression.
Mariko lifts her gaze lightly. She stares as Yukio grips her sword, her knuckles the color of snow and the skin tight across bone.
Her lips part, and she releases a light gasp as Yukio’s tense fingers release the hilt of the sword, sweep up and delicately stroke the bruise her father has given her.
Mariko leans into Yukio’s hand, enjoying the softness and comfort her friend offers. Her father’s angry words fade and all she could feel is Yukio and the hot tea cup against her knee.
*
*
*
Mariko can still feel the warmth of tea in her throat as she rests her head in Yukio’s lap. The sounds of cool water from the pond bleed into the room, and words unspoken fill their space.
Mariko is content to close her eyes and consume Yukio’s warmth. She can feel Yukio’s thigh muscles tensing underneath her cheek. Yukio remains solid like a statue, but soft as a warm shroud.
She knows how much her sister in spirit wants to rebel against her father and defend her, but she can only offer her comfort. Only rarely does Mariko allow it. Soon, she will get up and Mariko will abandon her time with Yukio for her grandfather’s last days and her father’s wishes to spend time with a fool.
Mariko will leave Yukio’s email unanswered. She will meet her eyes only briefly when Yukio tries to search through her soul like a dense pool, hoping for a plea for help.
She doesn’t want her friend, her sister, to see the sadness and emptiness that Mariko feels every day.
“I will bring him back. We will save Yashida-sama,” Yukio says, her voice like a blade slicing through the tranquility of the room.
Her words give Mariko as much comfort as the now lukewarm tea at her knees.
*
*
*
The tea is cold when the sun sets and the glittering stars map the skies. Mariko feels her eyes go heavy as Yukio rests next to her, lying on her side. Mariko listens to her sister’s breathing, and it reminds her of a focused chant.
Mariko shifts her body, facing Yukio on her side. The woman is staring at her, almost through her, with old warrior’s eyes. Mariko reaches out and grabs her hand, entwining their fingers.
Yukio’s smile is small and brief, but she still holds on.
“You remember when we were kids,” Mariko says.
“You used to hold my hand while we slept next to each other,” Yukio continues for her. “You wanted to comfort me because of my nightmares.”
“You did the same for me,” Mariko says.
“I try to chase away your nightmares now,” Yukio says, and Mariko’s smile fades. “But I fear they are too big for me to fight.” Despite the fear, Mariko sees boldness in Yukio’s eyes and tension in her jaw. Her fingers tighten in their grasp, and she wonders if by instinct Yukio grabs her sword before her body fulfills the need to breathe.
“This…” Mariko says, “This is enough.” She draws Yukio closer, the embrace warmer than the blanket they share. Mariko’s hand slides through Yukio’s hair, and Yukio breathes against Mariko’s neck. Mariko’s hand settles on the back of Yukio’s skull, and Yukio wraps her arms around Mariko’s waist. Sleep finds them as they fall deeply into their comfortable bond.
The moonlight reaches over their toes, and the night becomes colder.
Mariko’s sadness is tucked away, and Yukio’s presence and strength settle like a shield around them, warmer than any fresh tea and sharper than any blade.
End