[Saiunkoku Challenge 49] First Kill
May. 31st, 2009 08:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runicloreFirst Kill
Author: Amber Michelle
Rating: T
Genre: dark? and gen.
Warnings: violence, blood.
AU/Canon: canon.
Pairing/Characters: Seien
Words: 250
Prompt: #49 - you can never go home again (250 words or less)
Notes: eh.
Cross-posted at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
saiun_challenge.
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His mother's hair streaks the snow like a river of purple ink, and red flung from Seien's blade blots the slush like plum petals. Five dark shapes make banks in the white. Flakes drift down, swirl in clouds when he breathes, and he knows where his enemies stand by the puffs of mist they expel with each pant in moonlight filtered through the tree boughs. Pine, spruce, and fir lance his nose with their balsamic scent.
If only you had never been born. The cold burns his ears, but he hears them when they move into shadow: three men, two taller and heavier than Seien by the crunch of their footsteps, which means they'll fall harder and hide the third. He spins and lashes out at the first.
Until now he hasn't ever killed. The only blood he's accustomed to seeing is Ryuuki's, and the memory of brown smears on his tiny knuckles makes Seien hit the next one harder, slice him across the midsection, across the throat. He can almost see the sixth concubine's face turn gray and dissolve against the ash and white snow when the assassin drops.
He doesn't know how he kills the third, only that the snow is melting and his mother's corpse is sinking into the slush. He bends down, picks her up. Her face is a gray ghost. Seien can't leave her there, but he wants to. He can't go home now - but he wants to.
.
Author: Amber Michelle
Rating: T
Genre: dark? and gen.
Warnings: violence, blood.
AU/Canon: canon.
Pairing/Characters: Seien
Words: 250
Prompt: #49 - you can never go home again (250 words or less)
Notes: eh.
Cross-posted at
saiun_challenge................................................
His mother's hair streaks the snow like a river of purple ink, and red flung from Seien's blade blots the slush like plum petals. Five dark shapes make banks in the white. Flakes drift down, swirl in clouds when he breathes, and he knows where his enemies stand by the puffs of mist they expel with each pant in moonlight filtered through the tree boughs. Pine, spruce, and fir lance his nose with their balsamic scent.
If only you had never been born. The cold burns his ears, but he hears them when they move into shadow: three men, two taller and heavier than Seien by the crunch of their footsteps, which means they'll fall harder and hide the third. He spins and lashes out at the first.
Until now he hasn't ever killed. The only blood he's accustomed to seeing is Ryuuki's, and the memory of brown smears on his tiny knuckles makes Seien hit the next one harder, slice him across the midsection, across the throat. He can almost see the sixth concubine's face turn gray and dissolve against the ash and white snow when the assassin drops.
He doesn't know how he kills the third, only that the snow is melting and his mother's corpse is sinking into the slush. He bends down, picks her up. Her face is a gray ghost. Seien can't leave her there, but he wants to. He can't go home now - but he wants to.
.