[Otogizoushi] An auspicious day.
Aug. 10th, 2005 02:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runicloreDespite its flaws, Otogizoushi's storyline is too tight for fan fiction to fit in very easily. One can speculate on things implied, but those things will only ever amount to snippets like this, give or take a few more lines of dialog.
The compound grew quiet once the last traces of the Ministers' carriages faded away and the dust on the road settled. It was a dilemma he couldn't solve until now; creating the Bereau of Divination gave him the political power to achieve his goals, yet it came at the price of responsibility, and obligation, and the games of men like the Minister of the Left. Deserting his power base would free him of their scrabbling hands, and also deprive him of the means to see his plans through.
He lived with their company, and bit his tongue. The mask allowed a certain measure of freedom. They whispered he was a demon, or an old man, even a ghost, but they would never know his hidden face.
When Matsumushi was the only presence he could sense, Mansairaku pulled the mask away and tugged the wig down. She shuffled up to his side to take it, and when their hands met at the edges of the mask, he looked up and smiled at her.
The rumors weren't far from the truth. Her empty eyes confirmed it. Spirit or demon, it meant he was less than human, and the centuries were even longer when he remembered that.
"Make sure no one is allowed in," he said softly when he rose. "I will return before daybreak. There is a message for Iburaki on my writing desk if she comes back."
Matsumushi nodded and he pushed a stray strand of hair from her face before he left her with a parting smile to shed his ceremonial robe. She did not respond.
It was an auspicious day for an appearance at Rashomon Gate. Hikaru would be drawn away from her companions eventually, to seek solace from the hardships of her other life. He wanted to be there to hear the sweet sound of the flute, to be moved to dance, and to embrace her when she faltered.
Mansairaku changed quickly and left his chambers. He wished for the solitude of the cave in Chizen, but knew this night would not flow uninterrupted into the morning, as before. The red strings binding them together were born of sunsets, of endings, but not of rebirth.
He would fight fate, when the time came. They would have the rising sun.
---
This ran away from what I intended at the beginning. Overall, I don't think much of it. It just isn't what I wanted to say. Too bad I couldn't do more with it.
The compound grew quiet once the last traces of the Ministers' carriages faded away and the dust on the road settled. It was a dilemma he couldn't solve until now; creating the Bereau of Divination gave him the political power to achieve his goals, yet it came at the price of responsibility, and obligation, and the games of men like the Minister of the Left. Deserting his power base would free him of their scrabbling hands, and also deprive him of the means to see his plans through.
He lived with their company, and bit his tongue. The mask allowed a certain measure of freedom. They whispered he was a demon, or an old man, even a ghost, but they would never know his hidden face.
When Matsumushi was the only presence he could sense, Mansairaku pulled the mask away and tugged the wig down. She shuffled up to his side to take it, and when their hands met at the edges of the mask, he looked up and smiled at her.
The rumors weren't far from the truth. Her empty eyes confirmed it. Spirit or demon, it meant he was less than human, and the centuries were even longer when he remembered that.
"Make sure no one is allowed in," he said softly when he rose. "I will return before daybreak. There is a message for Iburaki on my writing desk if she comes back."
Matsumushi nodded and he pushed a stray strand of hair from her face before he left her with a parting smile to shed his ceremonial robe. She did not respond.
It was an auspicious day for an appearance at Rashomon Gate. Hikaru would be drawn away from her companions eventually, to seek solace from the hardships of her other life. He wanted to be there to hear the sweet sound of the flute, to be moved to dance, and to embrace her when she faltered.
Mansairaku changed quickly and left his chambers. He wished for the solitude of the cave in Chizen, but knew this night would not flow uninterrupted into the morning, as before. The red strings binding them together were born of sunsets, of endings, but not of rebirth.
He would fight fate, when the time came. They would have the rising sun.
---
This ran away from what I intended at the beginning. Overall, I don't think much of it. It just isn't what I wanted to say. Too bad I couldn't do more with it.
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no subject
Date: 2007-10-06 08:47 pm (UTC)This is an interesting story. I enjoyed the blend of Mansairaku's past, present and future state even though a certain sort of foreshadowing is hinted at the end.
no subject
Date: 2007-10-07 05:17 am (UTC)