fic: mono no aware
May. 8th, 2012 01:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: mono no aware
Author:measuringlife
Recipient:edellin
Fandom(s): xxxHolic
List of requested and other rare women: Yuuko
Warnings: none apply.
Bonus challenges:
Mono no aware.
Konohanasakuya-hime
Ohoyamatsumi.
Spoilers. Because of how much the translations vary in XXXHolic, I interpreted "celestial world" as "actual Japanese gods."
---
She did not see the first cherry blossoms fall in through her window, but she felt them. Watanuki hated the petals when they fell on his porch, and even more when they came on the pristine kitchen floor. The scent traveled through the house, even past the spices smell, the sulphur and dust of the storeroom, and of course, the heady aroma of opium.
Yuuko did not have Clow's precognition, but she could sense things to come. Meetings, opportune days, the feel of fate coming on the wind. She had woken today knowing that someone would arrive, someone special.
Yuuko had been nursing her wine, the scent of incense thick in the air. The lush burgundy drapes were pulled low, as usual, for more often than not she woke with a hangover. Her staff rested against her knee, well within reach for when the inevitable would come.
Yuuko did not immediately turn as the scent of cherry blossoms grew thicker in the room. She set aside her (now empty) glass and took a breath, inhaling the sweet scent of spring flowers.
"Welcome," Yuuko said.
The woman inclined her head, but did not respond.
Before her was a petite woman in an elaborate pink kimono with a pattern of cherry blossoms. Her dark hair hung long and loose down her back. She looked young, but Yuuko knew this was hardly the case. Any magician worth their salt could tell true youth and the youth of gods and magicians.
Clow always said the lines between gods and magicians had grown too close. It could be said that he was right; she was still standing here many years after she should have died.
For a moment they seemed to size each other up, pleasantries on the tips of their tongue. Rooms away, Yuuko could hear Watanuki shrieking. Ah, Larg had gotten into trouble again.
Another crash, the giggle of the twins. Drinking up her wine? How naughty.
Obviously Larg took after his father, insufferable wine thief as he was.
The commotion in the other room did not phase the woman, however. She remained delicate and composed, her gaze unwavering and piercing. She was a mix of elegance and veiled knowledge,
"I desire a prophecy, dimensional witch," said the woman.
Her dialect was old, as old as time itself, while her voice was as soft an melodious as a soft wind.
Konohanasakuya-hime, the cherry blossom child, the daughter of a mountain.
"A prophecy for a goddess?" Yuuko said.
"Stranger things have happened," Konohanasakuya-hime said.
"Payment will be needed," Yuuko said.
"Of course," Konohanasakuya-hime said. She pulled out a pouch that perfectly matched her pink kimono, and handed it to Yuuko. Inside the pouch, there was the feel of birdsong and butterfly wings, flower petals and new love, new life.
Just a fragment of the power of a goddess.
"I accept your payment," Yuuko said.
An arc of her staff and the lights dimmed. The scent of incense mixed with flowers was nearly overpowering. The sudden cold, the feeling of floating, it was something she had never gotten used to in all her many years of working magic.
Long ago, he'd once told her it's like swimming—or sex. And she'd replied If sex with you is like drowning, then I pity any woman who sleeps with you. Of course, I already pity them for having such poor taste to begin with.
But, as much as she hated to admit it, he was right. To a point, at least. The first feel was like floating, being buoyed over unfathomable depths. It was deceptively comforting, even relaxing. Then it was a sudden jerk down, into cold nothingness. Many a mage had lost their way in this not-world, a place of shadows and cold.
All the while, she kept her name—her true name, not the mask she'd worn for the last hundred years or so—close to her. It was her mantra, the spool of thread leading her home. The moment she forgot herself was the moment she would be washed away, drowned in magic and knowing, her body left as an empty husk on the mortal plane.
This was not a kind world of butterflies and deceased elders, a place to gently learn of the future, the places Watanuki had gone and found and known. This was a harsher world he would one day have to learn to traverse, but not now.
Yuuko stared into the darkness, waiting. Slowly it opened up to her, feeling like cold steel ripping at her soul. She knew the question before it had been asked. In the vision she saw a broken world, cut by acid rain and deserts, a graveyard of twisted metal.
A few embittered humans remained, though even a number of the gods had died.
Perhaps the most striking thing of all was the lack of the mountains. No snowy capped peaks, just craters and ash. She focused on memories: butterfly wings; the sound of her name; dark hair and a roguish smile; the sharp taste of spiced run.
The feeling of returning was she never got used to. It was dizzying, like the worst hangover she'd ever feltThe first time, she'd fallen to her knees, coughing and sputtering as if she'd nearly drowned.
Clow, the bastard, had remained standing, smirking all the while.
He'd offered a hand, she'd taken it for once, being too weak to refuse.
But that was thousands of years ago when they were both young. She did not lose composure, now. Past and present solidified, and the ghost memory of Clow was banished back to some recess of her mind she denied existed.
He'd carved out a place in her, left his mark, though she'd never admit it, they both knew it to be true.
All the while, the goddess had waited patiently. The scent of cherry blossoms was strong in this room, even eclipsing the scent of incense burnt to nothing.
Somewhere in her magic, Yuuko had taken a piece of this possible world. She cupped her hands, as if she was letting a caught firefly up. Tiny flickering vision of ashes, acid and twisted metal showed for a moment, then disappeared.
Konohanasakuya-hime took a step back, her gaze fixated on where the vision had been. "The mountain is completely gone, oh father..."
"There will be another eruption, no matter how many shrines are erected," Yuuko said.
Konohanasakuya-hime sighed. "Is there nothing I can do to appease him?"
"No," Yuuko said solemnly. "It is inevitable."
"Then I will protect the mountain as long as I can," Konohanasakuya-hime said.
She cupped her hands into a cradle, and in them a flowing orb of cherry blossoms came. The sweet scent of spring, first love and first kisses, the innocence of youth.
"All life is very fleeting. These flowers are only beautiful for a blink of an eye, and then...."
The flower petals broke free from the orb, turning brown and withered the minute her power left them. The petals fell to the floor, turning to ashes and dust.
"...But if life is long, then it becomes an ugly, intolerable thing. Life is beautiful because it is brief."
Yuuko nodded solemnly, knowingly. "Immortality is no gift; it is not something I would wish on even my worst enemy."
And yet, too many mortals were wasting away their lives pining for immortality. How many times had she received that wish, only to shake her head when they had gone, and the wish turned them to statues or mountains, for even gods died.
"Is that what happened, then? Your worst enemy wished it?" Curiosity marked her gaze. Her brown eyes were sharp, seeing even into the darkest corners. She could lie, or simply smile enigmatically, but it would be unwise to offend a goddess who kept the country from the vision she saw.
"I've often asked myself that," Yuuko said with a rueful smile.
"So that's how it is," Konohanasakuya-hime. "I see, now. Thank you, dimensional witch."
And then she was nothing, a spring wind of petals disappearing up and away, back to Ohoyamatsumi.
Konohanasakuya-hime knew of how fate worked. Fate was a possibility, a world which could come to pass. Many people mixed up the inevitable and fate, but as entwined as they were, both were very different. The eruption was inevitable. Ohoyamatsumi could not be appeased forever no matter how many poems his daughter recited, how many springs her petals covered the ground like pink snow. Eventually someone from the mortal world would offend him until haikus and sake could not calm him. She did not know the person, or the time, only that one day, it would happen. The world she saw was a possibility. It could come, it might not.
It was unlikely she'd be around to see it, for even now the vines of darkness had begun to twist around her being. Once Watanuki was trained, then he would find out.
From the first moment we had met, you must've known....didn't you, Clow? And yet you took your fate. You enjoyed your life and cast it aside.
She shook her head. Even after death, he affected her with the push and pull of annoyance and grudging fondness.
But at the end, something had eluded his visions. A whim, a wish. Clow was an asshole, a smug insufferable bastard, but he wouldn't doom the world.
In the end, neither of us ever saw this coming. Not even you with your visions. We never even realized until then, did we? Too damned stubborn...
She rose and went to the window. For the time being, Mount Fuji presided above them, snowy topped and solemn. From this point, she could see a mother shopping for groceries, a salaryman returning from his work, a child coming home from school. They could remain happy because they weren't seers or witches, they did not know what was to come. For a little while longer, people lived out their brief lives, unaware of what would come to pass.
Author:
measuringlifeRecipient:
edellinFandom(s): xxxHolic
List of requested and other rare women: Yuuko
Warnings: none apply.
Bonus challenges:
Mono no aware.
Konohanasakuya-hime
Ohoyamatsumi.
Spoilers. Because of how much the translations vary in XXXHolic, I interpreted "celestial world" as "actual Japanese gods."
---
She did not see the first cherry blossoms fall in through her window, but she felt them. Watanuki hated the petals when they fell on his porch, and even more when they came on the pristine kitchen floor. The scent traveled through the house, even past the spices smell, the sulphur and dust of the storeroom, and of course, the heady aroma of opium.
Yuuko did not have Clow's precognition, but she could sense things to come. Meetings, opportune days, the feel of fate coming on the wind. She had woken today knowing that someone would arrive, someone special.
Yuuko had been nursing her wine, the scent of incense thick in the air. The lush burgundy drapes were pulled low, as usual, for more often than not she woke with a hangover. Her staff rested against her knee, well within reach for when the inevitable would come.
Yuuko did not immediately turn as the scent of cherry blossoms grew thicker in the room. She set aside her (now empty) glass and took a breath, inhaling the sweet scent of spring flowers.
"Welcome," Yuuko said.
The woman inclined her head, but did not respond.
Before her was a petite woman in an elaborate pink kimono with a pattern of cherry blossoms. Her dark hair hung long and loose down her back. She looked young, but Yuuko knew this was hardly the case. Any magician worth their salt could tell true youth and the youth of gods and magicians.
Clow always said the lines between gods and magicians had grown too close. It could be said that he was right; she was still standing here many years after she should have died.
For a moment they seemed to size each other up, pleasantries on the tips of their tongue. Rooms away, Yuuko could hear Watanuki shrieking. Ah, Larg had gotten into trouble again.
Another crash, the giggle of the twins. Drinking up her wine? How naughty.
Obviously Larg took after his father, insufferable wine thief as he was.
The commotion in the other room did not phase the woman, however. She remained delicate and composed, her gaze unwavering and piercing. She was a mix of elegance and veiled knowledge,
"I desire a prophecy, dimensional witch," said the woman.
Her dialect was old, as old as time itself, while her voice was as soft an melodious as a soft wind.
Konohanasakuya-hime, the cherry blossom child, the daughter of a mountain.
"A prophecy for a goddess?" Yuuko said.
"Stranger things have happened," Konohanasakuya-hime said.
"Payment will be needed," Yuuko said.
"Of course," Konohanasakuya-hime said. She pulled out a pouch that perfectly matched her pink kimono, and handed it to Yuuko. Inside the pouch, there was the feel of birdsong and butterfly wings, flower petals and new love, new life.
Just a fragment of the power of a goddess.
"I accept your payment," Yuuko said.
An arc of her staff and the lights dimmed. The scent of incense mixed with flowers was nearly overpowering. The sudden cold, the feeling of floating, it was something she had never gotten used to in all her many years of working magic.
Long ago, he'd once told her it's like swimming—or sex. And she'd replied If sex with you is like drowning, then I pity any woman who sleeps with you. Of course, I already pity them for having such poor taste to begin with.
But, as much as she hated to admit it, he was right. To a point, at least. The first feel was like floating, being buoyed over unfathomable depths. It was deceptively comforting, even relaxing. Then it was a sudden jerk down, into cold nothingness. Many a mage had lost their way in this not-world, a place of shadows and cold.
All the while, she kept her name—her true name, not the mask she'd worn for the last hundred years or so—close to her. It was her mantra, the spool of thread leading her home. The moment she forgot herself was the moment she would be washed away, drowned in magic and knowing, her body left as an empty husk on the mortal plane.
This was not a kind world of butterflies and deceased elders, a place to gently learn of the future, the places Watanuki had gone and found and known. This was a harsher world he would one day have to learn to traverse, but not now.
Yuuko stared into the darkness, waiting. Slowly it opened up to her, feeling like cold steel ripping at her soul. She knew the question before it had been asked. In the vision she saw a broken world, cut by acid rain and deserts, a graveyard of twisted metal.
A few embittered humans remained, though even a number of the gods had died.
Perhaps the most striking thing of all was the lack of the mountains. No snowy capped peaks, just craters and ash. She focused on memories: butterfly wings; the sound of her name; dark hair and a roguish smile; the sharp taste of spiced run.
The feeling of returning was she never got used to. It was dizzying, like the worst hangover she'd ever feltThe first time, she'd fallen to her knees, coughing and sputtering as if she'd nearly drowned.
Clow, the bastard, had remained standing, smirking all the while.
He'd offered a hand, she'd taken it for once, being too weak to refuse.
But that was thousands of years ago when they were both young. She did not lose composure, now. Past and present solidified, and the ghost memory of Clow was banished back to some recess of her mind she denied existed.
He'd carved out a place in her, left his mark, though she'd never admit it, they both knew it to be true.
All the while, the goddess had waited patiently. The scent of cherry blossoms was strong in this room, even eclipsing the scent of incense burnt to nothing.
Somewhere in her magic, Yuuko had taken a piece of this possible world. She cupped her hands, as if she was letting a caught firefly up. Tiny flickering vision of ashes, acid and twisted metal showed for a moment, then disappeared.
Konohanasakuya-hime took a step back, her gaze fixated on where the vision had been. "The mountain is completely gone, oh father..."
"There will be another eruption, no matter how many shrines are erected," Yuuko said.
Konohanasakuya-hime sighed. "Is there nothing I can do to appease him?"
"No," Yuuko said solemnly. "It is inevitable."
"Then I will protect the mountain as long as I can," Konohanasakuya-hime said.
She cupped her hands into a cradle, and in them a flowing orb of cherry blossoms came. The sweet scent of spring, first love and first kisses, the innocence of youth.
"All life is very fleeting. These flowers are only beautiful for a blink of an eye, and then...."
The flower petals broke free from the orb, turning brown and withered the minute her power left them. The petals fell to the floor, turning to ashes and dust.
"...But if life is long, then it becomes an ugly, intolerable thing. Life is beautiful because it is brief."
Yuuko nodded solemnly, knowingly. "Immortality is no gift; it is not something I would wish on even my worst enemy."
And yet, too many mortals were wasting away their lives pining for immortality. How many times had she received that wish, only to shake her head when they had gone, and the wish turned them to statues or mountains, for even gods died.
"Is that what happened, then? Your worst enemy wished it?" Curiosity marked her gaze. Her brown eyes were sharp, seeing even into the darkest corners. She could lie, or simply smile enigmatically, but it would be unwise to offend a goddess who kept the country from the vision she saw.
"I've often asked myself that," Yuuko said with a rueful smile.
"So that's how it is," Konohanasakuya-hime. "I see, now. Thank you, dimensional witch."
And then she was nothing, a spring wind of petals disappearing up and away, back to Ohoyamatsumi.
Konohanasakuya-hime knew of how fate worked. Fate was a possibility, a world which could come to pass. Many people mixed up the inevitable and fate, but as entwined as they were, both were very different. The eruption was inevitable. Ohoyamatsumi could not be appeased forever no matter how many poems his daughter recited, how many springs her petals covered the ground like pink snow. Eventually someone from the mortal world would offend him until haikus and sake could not calm him. She did not know the person, or the time, only that one day, it would happen. The world she saw was a possibility. It could come, it might not.
It was unlikely she'd be around to see it, for even now the vines of darkness had begun to twist around her being. Once Watanuki was trained, then he would find out.
From the first moment we had met, you must've known....didn't you, Clow? And yet you took your fate. You enjoyed your life and cast it aside.
She shook her head. Even after death, he affected her with the push and pull of annoyance and grudging fondness.
But at the end, something had eluded his visions. A whim, a wish. Clow was an asshole, a smug insufferable bastard, but he wouldn't doom the world.
In the end, neither of us ever saw this coming. Not even you with your visions. We never even realized until then, did we? Too damned stubborn...
She rose and went to the window. For the time being, Mount Fuji presided above them, snowy topped and solemn. From this point, she could see a mother shopping for groceries, a salaryman returning from his work, a child coming home from school. They could remain happy because they weren't seers or witches, they did not know what was to come. For a little while longer, people lived out their brief lives, unaware of what would come to pass.
