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31_days2011-07-02 06:35 pm
treeflamingo.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2011-07-02 06:35 pm
[July 2] [Skip Beat!] Little Bottles of Wine
Title: Little Bottles of Wine
Day/Theme: July 2 // The past and present overlap like double exposure on film
Series: Skip Beat!
Character(s): Mogami Saena
Rating: K
A/N: Well. By now it must be July 2 including where the mods are. Also, OMG that title... v_v
When she left, she had left everything. She abandoned the problems that had plagued her since childhood. She laid aside beautiful and precious things that she had never wanted or asked for. She ripped herself from the soil of her hometown with only stalk of her, transplanted herself in a new and hostile place with neither roots nor fruits to speak of, and there she had flourished.
When people asked her if she had children, she answered in the negative. She felt – she believed – she fully accepted – that she had lost any right to call herself that child’s mother. The girl, like the man who had sired her, and the family to which Mogami Saena had ceded all the rights of her own, entered her thoughts barely once a month, when her bank account registered the withdrawal and transference of an amount of money appropriate to care for the needs of a child of little consequence. This had been her only connection to her daughter for over a decade now, and in a few more years, when the girl came of legal age, even that would disappear.
Such thoughts gave her no ill rest at night.
It was less coincidence than the inexorable forces operating in a media-hungry society which brought Kyoko’s unusual status in life to Saena’s attention. Out of tender regard for the interests of her pocket book, upon the completion of a business trip in Boston, Saena had taken a coach class seat on the cheapest airline which flew to her side of the Pacific. It was a stiff-seated human-cargo missile packed full of unwashed Indians and screeching spoiled American brats. Saena plugged her ears with hideous little cones of orange foam she’d bought at the airport and slept as much as she could, waking periodically to discomfort in her lumbar and a strengthening conviction that she was too old for this sort of thing and she would definitely make a point to fly first class next time. It wasn’t like she couldn’t afford it.
Eventually she could sleep no longer and opened her eyes to the garish projection-screen situated a few rows in front of her, on a wall in the middle of the five-seat-wide center aisle. It was, she assumed, an ill-advised attempt at providing entertainment for the passengers, who were very likely to find the 4-by-5 inch movie screens embedded in the headrest of the seat in front of them inadequate.
That was where she saw her. Two great, unusually gold eyes, moist with tears; thick black hair pulled into childish pigtails; a mouth quirked into something at the midpoint between a tight-lipped whimper and wide-open scream. Saena stopped breathing for a moment. Then she scrambled for the headphones stuffed into her seatback pocket and ordered two little bottles of wine from a passing attendant.
The character Kyoko played did not spend the entire movie crying; she also laughed and yelled, vowed eternal devotion and implacable revenge; indeed, the girl seemed like an exceptionally skilled actress, as a grand spectrum of emotions played across her mobile features. It was some period movie that Saena had never heard of, obviously recent, set at the end of Meiji. Kyoko was playing across from a very tall, very handsome young man Saena recognized from a myriad magazine covers, advertising spreads and commercial previews which played between her stock market updates on the early morning news.
Saena thought that the child had grown surprisingly pretty. She’d caught the movie halfway through, watched through the credits – there is was, that name, written in kana alone, and with no surname attached – and replayed it from the beginning on her own pitifully small seatback screen.
The scene where Kyoko chased the back of a person walking away from her – the back of a person she had trusted, had loved and worked for – chasing with tears in her eyes and the fingers of her little hand stretched forward, scrapes on her clumsy knees and broken wails escaping her throat – came and went.
And Saena ordered two more little bottles of wine.
Day/Theme: July 2 // The past and present overlap like double exposure on film
Series: Skip Beat!
Character(s): Mogami Saena
Rating: K
A/N: Well. By now it must be July 2 including where the mods are. Also, OMG that title... v_v
When she left, she had left everything. She abandoned the problems that had plagued her since childhood. She laid aside beautiful and precious things that she had never wanted or asked for. She ripped herself from the soil of her hometown with only stalk of her, transplanted herself in a new and hostile place with neither roots nor fruits to speak of, and there she had flourished.
When people asked her if she had children, she answered in the negative. She felt – she believed – she fully accepted – that she had lost any right to call herself that child’s mother. The girl, like the man who had sired her, and the family to which Mogami Saena had ceded all the rights of her own, entered her thoughts barely once a month, when her bank account registered the withdrawal and transference of an amount of money appropriate to care for the needs of a child of little consequence. This had been her only connection to her daughter for over a decade now, and in a few more years, when the girl came of legal age, even that would disappear.
Such thoughts gave her no ill rest at night.
It was less coincidence than the inexorable forces operating in a media-hungry society which brought Kyoko’s unusual status in life to Saena’s attention. Out of tender regard for the interests of her pocket book, upon the completion of a business trip in Boston, Saena had taken a coach class seat on the cheapest airline which flew to her side of the Pacific. It was a stiff-seated human-cargo missile packed full of unwashed Indians and screeching spoiled American brats. Saena plugged her ears with hideous little cones of orange foam she’d bought at the airport and slept as much as she could, waking periodically to discomfort in her lumbar and a strengthening conviction that she was too old for this sort of thing and she would definitely make a point to fly first class next time. It wasn’t like she couldn’t afford it.
Eventually she could sleep no longer and opened her eyes to the garish projection-screen situated a few rows in front of her, on a wall in the middle of the five-seat-wide center aisle. It was, she assumed, an ill-advised attempt at providing entertainment for the passengers, who were very likely to find the 4-by-5 inch movie screens embedded in the headrest of the seat in front of them inadequate.
That was where she saw her. Two great, unusually gold eyes, moist with tears; thick black hair pulled into childish pigtails; a mouth quirked into something at the midpoint between a tight-lipped whimper and wide-open scream. Saena stopped breathing for a moment. Then she scrambled for the headphones stuffed into her seatback pocket and ordered two little bottles of wine from a passing attendant.
The character Kyoko played did not spend the entire movie crying; she also laughed and yelled, vowed eternal devotion and implacable revenge; indeed, the girl seemed like an exceptionally skilled actress, as a grand spectrum of emotions played across her mobile features. It was some period movie that Saena had never heard of, obviously recent, set at the end of Meiji. Kyoko was playing across from a very tall, very handsome young man Saena recognized from a myriad magazine covers, advertising spreads and commercial previews which played between her stock market updates on the early morning news.
Saena thought that the child had grown surprisingly pretty. She’d caught the movie halfway through, watched through the credits – there is was, that name, written in kana alone, and with no surname attached – and replayed it from the beginning on her own pitifully small seatback screen.
The scene where Kyoko chased the back of a person walking away from her – the back of a person she had trusted, had loved and worked for – chasing with tears in her eyes and the fingers of her little hand stretched forward, scrapes on her clumsy knees and broken wails escaping her throat – came and went.
And Saena ordered two more little bottles of wine.