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31_days2005-10-12 09:55 am
swollenfoot.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-10-12 09:55 am
[October 12] [Naruto] Songs to the Sun and Moon
Title: Songs to the Sun and Moon
Day/Theme: October 12 / Into the valley of dying stars
Series: Naruto
Character/Pairing: Yondaime, OC
Rating: G
The Yondaime came to visit the widow when the moon was in the midst of waxing to its heavy roundness or waning to its invisible husk, never when it was full or new. He would wistfully return the lopsided smile of the night goddess and venture into an old friend's hut, jealously swathed by the hulking shadows and the fecund jungle.
She would greet him with a solemn nod at the doorway, meeting his blue gaze, opaline in the moonlight. She knew the reasons for his visits carved into his soul like serrated blades of loyalty and betrayal entwined. But as it was always unspoken, though the longing in his eyes betrayed him in his weaker moments, she allowed his presence, reveled in it. Not out of spite, mind, but because the ways and gestures, the words and spirit, of her beloved had stained his entire being and eagerly she grasped the ghosts of her husband in his closest friend, not even jealous that the Leaf ninja was haunted more avidly than she was by the dead man.
She knew he would join her husband soon; she would not survive the birthing. The drums in her head pounded to in time with the falling of sand in her incorporeal timepiece, counting the days she had left to walk the earth. And walk the earth she did, wandering among the silent leafy sentinels that towered over her, conversing with the moon as she grew and shrunk each passing night. Her swollen feet would find relief in the tinkling brook that ran beside her house, and she would pass the days there and sit at its banks on the evenings. When he came bearing victuals only found in the settlements of men, he would massage her feet with firm even strokes, coaxing the accumulated lymph to rejoin with her blood.
She also knew that this man, not only because he loved his dead friend and loved the widow left behind, would care for the son she would soon leave behind. The child she carried in her womb was a boy, the moon told her, and this leader of men who visited her only when it was dark would raise him among the kin of her husband. In gratitude, she wished for her son to echo the visage of this man who would become the only father the boy would know. She would beg for the Yondaime to let her take her secrets to the grave, to seal his in his mouth so long as he lived.
Tonight, the moon was a sliver in the sky, but she knew he would not come. The ravages of the spirit beast came to her ears whenever the winds sang their dirges for the children of the Leaf. The Yondaime was fighting among his people----her people, too, once, a lifetime ago----and surely the nine-tailed fox would be banished from this world even before the birthing started and her son would only learn of the tragedies the demon brought from the stories that would celebrate the bravery of the Yondaime Hokage.
The stars were still pale tonight, however, a multitude of drying tears. On moonless nights, they ruled the skies, able to flaunt their pale ethereal beauties without being dwarfed by the night goddess. And tonight, the moon was barely there, yet weren't the stars shining a little too weakly?
She frowned, but shook away the secret fears. Instead, she thought of the boy she would soon birth, stroking her belly and feeling his excited response to her tender touch. The moon lobbied so hard for this child, but it was to the sun she planned to pledge him. The boy would have the eyes of clear skies and the disposition of the morning god.
The mountain of regrets loomed at the base of her throat, but she reached within and balled it up firmly, thrusting it as final offering to the cloaked moon. Then, she waited for the red of dawn's first rays, waited till she could sing her child's name, voice ringing with deep-seated joy.
Naruto, she would sing.
Naruto.
end 0936
Notes:
this drabble came out because...
-I've always been intrigued by Naruto's parentage
-I hate/love the generational parallelism in the series (thus the SasuSakuNaru-ish / ObitoRinKakashi-ish love triangle hints or whatever you want to call it)
-I just finished reading "The Red Tent" by Anita Diamant and her writing style sang throbbingly. *__*
Day/Theme: October 12 / Into the valley of dying stars
Series: Naruto
Character/Pairing: Yondaime, OC
Rating: G
The Yondaime came to visit the widow when the moon was in the midst of waxing to its heavy roundness or waning to its invisible husk, never when it was full or new. He would wistfully return the lopsided smile of the night goddess and venture into an old friend's hut, jealously swathed by the hulking shadows and the fecund jungle.
She would greet him with a solemn nod at the doorway, meeting his blue gaze, opaline in the moonlight. She knew the reasons for his visits carved into his soul like serrated blades of loyalty and betrayal entwined. But as it was always unspoken, though the longing in his eyes betrayed him in his weaker moments, she allowed his presence, reveled in it. Not out of spite, mind, but because the ways and gestures, the words and spirit, of her beloved had stained his entire being and eagerly she grasped the ghosts of her husband in his closest friend, not even jealous that the Leaf ninja was haunted more avidly than she was by the dead man.
She knew he would join her husband soon; she would not survive the birthing. The drums in her head pounded to in time with the falling of sand in her incorporeal timepiece, counting the days she had left to walk the earth. And walk the earth she did, wandering among the silent leafy sentinels that towered over her, conversing with the moon as she grew and shrunk each passing night. Her swollen feet would find relief in the tinkling brook that ran beside her house, and she would pass the days there and sit at its banks on the evenings. When he came bearing victuals only found in the settlements of men, he would massage her feet with firm even strokes, coaxing the accumulated lymph to rejoin with her blood.
She also knew that this man, not only because he loved his dead friend and loved the widow left behind, would care for the son she would soon leave behind. The child she carried in her womb was a boy, the moon told her, and this leader of men who visited her only when it was dark would raise him among the kin of her husband. In gratitude, she wished for her son to echo the visage of this man who would become the only father the boy would know. She would beg for the Yondaime to let her take her secrets to the grave, to seal his in his mouth so long as he lived.
Tonight, the moon was a sliver in the sky, but she knew he would not come. The ravages of the spirit beast came to her ears whenever the winds sang their dirges for the children of the Leaf. The Yondaime was fighting among his people----her people, too, once, a lifetime ago----and surely the nine-tailed fox would be banished from this world even before the birthing started and her son would only learn of the tragedies the demon brought from the stories that would celebrate the bravery of the Yondaime Hokage.
The stars were still pale tonight, however, a multitude of drying tears. On moonless nights, they ruled the skies, able to flaunt their pale ethereal beauties without being dwarfed by the night goddess. And tonight, the moon was barely there, yet weren't the stars shining a little too weakly?
She frowned, but shook away the secret fears. Instead, she thought of the boy she would soon birth, stroking her belly and feeling his excited response to her tender touch. The moon lobbied so hard for this child, but it was to the sun she planned to pledge him. The boy would have the eyes of clear skies and the disposition of the morning god.
The mountain of regrets loomed at the base of her throat, but she reached within and balled it up firmly, thrusting it as final offering to the cloaked moon. Then, she waited for the red of dawn's first rays, waited till she could sing her child's name, voice ringing with deep-seated joy.
Naruto, she would sing.
Naruto.
end 0936
Notes:
this drabble came out because...
-I've always been intrigued by Naruto's parentage
-I hate
-I just finished reading "The Red Tent" by Anita Diamant and her writing style sang throbbingly. *__*