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31_days2011-12-19 07:32 pm
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2011-12-19 07:32 pm
[Dec. 19] [Suikoden III] In the Greenhouse
Title: In the Greenhouse
Day/Theme: Dec. 19, 2011 "the god of loneliness"
Series: Suikoden III
Character/Pairing: Sasarai & Hikusaak, etc.
Rating: PG
"Sasarai." There was an odd note in Hikami's voice. The boy couldn't quite place it. He had a hard time judging the bishop who tutored him when he strayed too far from his usual demeanor. Adults were mysterious. Children were fickle. He was ten years old and didn't feel he was a proper match to any of them. "Apparently your father is asking for you." Hikami toyed with the end of his multi-colored braid. His flamboyantly colored hair belied his generally stern, conservative nature. Sasarai didn't know if he had been born with light or dark hair, but the two shades vied quite naturally with the gray that was slipping in.
"Oh. Okay." Sasarai got up from his doodling (he was supposed to be writing an essay on the most recent book Bishop Hikami had assigned him, but it was just such dull going).
Hikami hung about idly in the doorway. Sasarai was glad he wasn't paying much attention to what he had been up to. There was nothing he was scolded about more frequently than his lackluster attention to his schoolwork. "I trust you know where to find him," the bishop remarked, leaning back against the door frame.
"Yes," Sasarai nodded, "I imagine so." It seemed that his father was always in one place- the round room located at the very heart of the Circle Temple, his personal quarters. Supposedly there was also a workroom beneath them where his father practiced and performed experiments and magic, but Sasarai had never seen the door to this hidden sanctum, let alone the place itself. As he passed Hikami, his wide, green eyes lingered on his tutor, wondering if he planned on accompanying at least part of the way.
Hikami didn't budge. It seemed that he would be going alone.
The halls stretched out, curved and clean and shining before him. No one spoke to Sasarai as he passed. The servants he saw where busy engaged in their work. Such people never spoke to him unless he addressed them first. He didn't know if the women were simply retiring or if they had specific orders to leave him be. He imagined they might have some things to say that would be interesting by sheer value of exoticness if they would talk because their lives were clearly different from his own, but when he was nearby, they tended to keep even their conversations among themselves quiet and low.
The clerical people he passed could, and sometimes did, speak to him, but today he was of interest to no one and they (several pairs and groups of them) let him pass without comment.
His father's door was not the largest in the temple complex, but it was the most highly decorated. Sasarai stood before the door and composed himself before speaking out. "Father?"
There was no response. Unless Hikusaak was standing right beside the door, it stood to reason that he wouldn't hear. ...and the chances were all too high that he had already forgotten his request to meet with his son (who had he conveyed that request to in the first place? It hadn't been Hikami) and drifted back into his mysterious world of dreams and recollections.
"Father?" Sasarai prefaced his series of tiny knocks.
The response was the opening of the door. Hikusaak's fingers slipped just the smallest distance into the hallway as he pulled the door inward with one hand on the doorknob and one of the painted wood.
Sasarai stepped inside, staring into the cold, mask-like face of his strange, numinous father. He was not like other fathers, nor was he Sasarai's alone. The Holy Father was above and apart from all living men.
But that did not make him entirely unlike them. Sasarai was clutched to his father's chest so fast he barely had a chance to gasp. "I cannot abide anymore loneliness," Hikusaak said in the old language, the only language he spoke.
He clasped his child tight and, timidly, Sasarai touched him back. Sasarai felt odd and separate from the world outside the Temple, and much of the world inside it for that matter, but he knew very well that it was not he, but his father, who was the loneliest man in the world.
Day/Theme: Dec. 19, 2011 "the god of loneliness"
Series: Suikoden III
Character/Pairing: Sasarai & Hikusaak, etc.
Rating: PG
"Sasarai." There was an odd note in Hikami's voice. The boy couldn't quite place it. He had a hard time judging the bishop who tutored him when he strayed too far from his usual demeanor. Adults were mysterious. Children were fickle. He was ten years old and didn't feel he was a proper match to any of them. "Apparently your father is asking for you." Hikami toyed with the end of his multi-colored braid. His flamboyantly colored hair belied his generally stern, conservative nature. Sasarai didn't know if he had been born with light or dark hair, but the two shades vied quite naturally with the gray that was slipping in.
"Oh. Okay." Sasarai got up from his doodling (he was supposed to be writing an essay on the most recent book Bishop Hikami had assigned him, but it was just such dull going).
Hikami hung about idly in the doorway. Sasarai was glad he wasn't paying much attention to what he had been up to. There was nothing he was scolded about more frequently than his lackluster attention to his schoolwork. "I trust you know where to find him," the bishop remarked, leaning back against the door frame.
"Yes," Sasarai nodded, "I imagine so." It seemed that his father was always in one place- the round room located at the very heart of the Circle Temple, his personal quarters. Supposedly there was also a workroom beneath them where his father practiced and performed experiments and magic, but Sasarai had never seen the door to this hidden sanctum, let alone the place itself. As he passed Hikami, his wide, green eyes lingered on his tutor, wondering if he planned on accompanying at least part of the way.
Hikami didn't budge. It seemed that he would be going alone.
The halls stretched out, curved and clean and shining before him. No one spoke to Sasarai as he passed. The servants he saw where busy engaged in their work. Such people never spoke to him unless he addressed them first. He didn't know if the women were simply retiring or if they had specific orders to leave him be. He imagined they might have some things to say that would be interesting by sheer value of exoticness if they would talk because their lives were clearly different from his own, but when he was nearby, they tended to keep even their conversations among themselves quiet and low.
The clerical people he passed could, and sometimes did, speak to him, but today he was of interest to no one and they (several pairs and groups of them) let him pass without comment.
His father's door was not the largest in the temple complex, but it was the most highly decorated. Sasarai stood before the door and composed himself before speaking out. "Father?"
There was no response. Unless Hikusaak was standing right beside the door, it stood to reason that he wouldn't hear. ...and the chances were all too high that he had already forgotten his request to meet with his son (who had he conveyed that request to in the first place? It hadn't been Hikami) and drifted back into his mysterious world of dreams and recollections.
"Father?" Sasarai prefaced his series of tiny knocks.
The response was the opening of the door. Hikusaak's fingers slipped just the smallest distance into the hallway as he pulled the door inward with one hand on the doorknob and one of the painted wood.
Sasarai stepped inside, staring into the cold, mask-like face of his strange, numinous father. He was not like other fathers, nor was he Sasarai's alone. The Holy Father was above and apart from all living men.
But that did not make him entirely unlike them. Sasarai was clutched to his father's chest so fast he barely had a chance to gasp. "I cannot abide anymore loneliness," Hikusaak said in the old language, the only language he spoke.
He clasped his child tight and, timidly, Sasarai touched him back. Sasarai felt odd and separate from the world outside the Temple, and much of the world inside it for that matter, but he knew very well that it was not he, but his father, who was the loneliest man in the world.