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31_days2005-12-02 09:44 pm
faeryetale.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-12-02 09:44 pm
[December 2] [Kodomo no Omocha] Their days are like grass
Title: Their days are like grass
Day/Theme: December 2/Their days are like grass
Series: Kodomo no Omocha
Character/Pairing: Sana/Akito
Rating: PG
Sana remembers the smell of crushed grass; it smells green and sweet and bitter and fresh. When she was young, Mama often took her to the park and she remembers that smell stained onto her jeans.
What is that smell Mama? I don't like it.
And Mama would laugh and say that she loved it.
Sana remembers trying to love it too, because she loved Mama, but somehow she couldn't; it gave her a headache.
When she and Akito pass by an apothecary’s office, the smell of herbs rushes over them. It smells like grass, she says, and Akito hears her.
Not really, he replies.
Yes.
No, and continues: It smells old and sickly.
In her head, it clicks, she understands. It smells stale and brown, plain, a remnant of what it once was.
They stand for a moment, and watch the apothecary crush the herbs. Let's go, she says; she dislikes this smell even more than the smell of grass—it makes her sad.
Some time later, Akito is with her at the park, and there are gardeners trimming the grass. He is surprised to see her inhale deeply and says so.
I like it, she laughs, I'm so weird. She really does like it.
Akito shrugs indifferently, and she quickly says, No really! I do! It's what I aspire to be!
She knows he's not listening anymore; he has that glazed look on his face, but she hurries on anyway. Grass, it just grows and grows, you cut it, and it keeps going! Not like the herbs, she thinks to herself, worn and tired, only good for the living and not for itself.
Suddenly, he bends and picks up a grass stem, crushes it under her nose.
There, he says, immensely satisfied. Now you have a green mustache.
Day/Theme: December 2/Their days are like grass
Series: Kodomo no Omocha
Character/Pairing: Sana/Akito
Rating: PG
Sana remembers the smell of crushed grass; it smells green and sweet and bitter and fresh. When she was young, Mama often took her to the park and she remembers that smell stained onto her jeans.
What is that smell Mama? I don't like it.
And Mama would laugh and say that she loved it.
Sana remembers trying to love it too, because she loved Mama, but somehow she couldn't; it gave her a headache.
When she and Akito pass by an apothecary’s office, the smell of herbs rushes over them. It smells like grass, she says, and Akito hears her.
Not really, he replies.
Yes.
No, and continues: It smells old and sickly.
In her head, it clicks, she understands. It smells stale and brown, plain, a remnant of what it once was.
They stand for a moment, and watch the apothecary crush the herbs. Let's go, she says; she dislikes this smell even more than the smell of grass—it makes her sad.
Some time later, Akito is with her at the park, and there are gardeners trimming the grass. He is surprised to see her inhale deeply and says so.
I like it, she laughs, I'm so weird. She really does like it.
Akito shrugs indifferently, and she quickly says, No really! I do! It's what I aspire to be!
She knows he's not listening anymore; he has that glazed look on his face, but she hurries on anyway. Grass, it just grows and grows, you cut it, and it keeps going! Not like the herbs, she thinks to herself, worn and tired, only good for the living and not for itself.
Suddenly, he bends and picks up a grass stem, crushes it under her nose.
There, he says, immensely satisfied. Now you have a green mustache.