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neko_kirin3104Title: At Every Turn – The Warrior and The Tree (2/4)
Group/pairing: Arashi/Yama Pair (Ohno/Sho)
Prompt: Olympus
Word Count: 729
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst
Summary: It was never chance that led Satoshi Ohno to Sho Sakurai’s path. Even as a dolphin, a samurai, or an idol, he knew they were bound to be together, to support and protect each other at every turn...
Disclaimer: I own nobody
Notes: Inspired by a prompt from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
rainbowfilling, and Satoshi Ohno talking about his past lives on Arashi Discovery 2013.02.18.
Note 2: Purely fictional, of course. :3
His second life was sworn by the sword. It was all the world he knew, and all the life he never wanted. He started out young in the ways of the warrior, breathing and living the code like it was all that ever had meaning in the chaotic society he had come to know.
He served his lord with unwavering loyalty, eventually turning his back on everything that could potentially get between him and the successful completion of his tasks. He trained diligently, fought fearlessly, and killed mercilessly, sometimes without even breaking a sweat. He did all these while managing to keep a straight face, often marred by blood, but never once stained with traces of emotions that made humans weak.
His sword helped him steel his heart to everything and everyone that could dismantle his resolve and reveal the broken little boy he hid inside. Still mourning silently over the fact that despite all his strength and fighting knowledge, he had failed to protect his family when they needed him the most.
When their village was pillaged by heartless, crooked thugs who called themselves rebels, he had been here serving his lord.
He was here when his family had to fight and defend their own lives.
He was here. And he did nothing.
He remembered his little brother most, perhaps it’s because he had loved the little tyke the best. He had already forgotten how his parents looked like, but Yuri... The kid had only been five when his chance at a fruitful life was unfairly taken from him. This was the worst pain that the samurai secretly carried deep within his heart.
And it was the desperation to free himself from this guilt that made him such a force to reckon with in every battle he charged into. Seeing the faces of those thugs in every worthless adversary he had to kill, he cut each of them down brutally and without abandon.
He led a tough life. Well-rewarded. Well-praised. But never truly lived.
His one saving grace was those little moments he could spend in silence under the majestic sakura tree on the far side of his lord’s field. This is the only place left on earth where he felt safe enough to lay his sword on the ground and just bask in the warm afternoon sunshine seeping through the tree’s lavish canopy.
Right here, on this very spot, he felt comfortable enough to close his eyes and let his guard down. For some reason he himself could not fathom, the tree seemed to wrap him up in a protective embrace that virtually separated him from the rest of the world.
The moment he leaned his back on its sturdy trunk, he could feel its warmth seeping through his body, relaxing his nerves, almost immediately lulling him to sleep. In the spring, he particularly loved the faint and calming scent of its flowers in bloom. He even adored the way it leaned boldly on the right side, giving it an awkwardly unbalanced, yet strangely captivating look.
It was on his request that the tree had remained standing, despite its odd appearance.
And over the years, he had grown more attached to it like a lover to his beloved.
This was where he felt most at home, after all.
This was also where he performed his honorable suicide when he, getting on in years and not as agile as his younger self, had a momentary lapse in judgment and failed to protect his lord’s son.
The sakura tree had only the same kind of warmth it always gave him when he leaned against its trunk for the very last time. It covered him in that same protective embrace that kept him hidden in his own precious world. It never judged him, and even seemed to be trying to calm him down amidst the pain of his own sword grazing against his skin.
In the final hazy moments of this life, as he bled out and slowly lost his breath, his memories were filled with the intense smell of cherries, the soft, wordless assurances hummed out by the tree’s rich foliage, and cherry blossom petals riding the breeze in a gaudy display of aerial promenade that celebrated life even in their deaths.
This was the lovely, albeit bittersweet image that kept him afloat in the void that came after...
Next: At Every Turn – Almost Yama
Group/pairing: Arashi/Yama Pair (Ohno/Sho)
Prompt: Olympus
Word Count: 729
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst
Summary: It was never chance that led Satoshi Ohno to Sho Sakurai’s path. Even as a dolphin, a samurai, or an idol, he knew they were bound to be together, to support and protect each other at every turn...
Disclaimer: I own nobody
Notes: Inspired by a prompt from
rainbowfilling, and Satoshi Ohno talking about his past lives on Arashi Discovery 2013.02.18. Note 2: Purely fictional, of course. :3
Warning: Character death [x4]
T.T
x2T.T
His second life was sworn by the sword. It was all the world he knew, and all the life he never wanted. He started out young in the ways of the warrior, breathing and living the code like it was all that ever had meaning in the chaotic society he had come to know.
He served his lord with unwavering loyalty, eventually turning his back on everything that could potentially get between him and the successful completion of his tasks. He trained diligently, fought fearlessly, and killed mercilessly, sometimes without even breaking a sweat. He did all these while managing to keep a straight face, often marred by blood, but never once stained with traces of emotions that made humans weak.
His sword helped him steel his heart to everything and everyone that could dismantle his resolve and reveal the broken little boy he hid inside. Still mourning silently over the fact that despite all his strength and fighting knowledge, he had failed to protect his family when they needed him the most.
When their village was pillaged by heartless, crooked thugs who called themselves rebels, he had been here serving his lord.
He was here when his family had to fight and defend their own lives.
He was here. And he did nothing.
He remembered his little brother most, perhaps it’s because he had loved the little tyke the best. He had already forgotten how his parents looked like, but Yuri... The kid had only been five when his chance at a fruitful life was unfairly taken from him. This was the worst pain that the samurai secretly carried deep within his heart.
And it was the desperation to free himself from this guilt that made him such a force to reckon with in every battle he charged into. Seeing the faces of those thugs in every worthless adversary he had to kill, he cut each of them down brutally and without abandon.
He led a tough life. Well-rewarded. Well-praised. But never truly lived.
His one saving grace was those little moments he could spend in silence under the majestic sakura tree on the far side of his lord’s field. This is the only place left on earth where he felt safe enough to lay his sword on the ground and just bask in the warm afternoon sunshine seeping through the tree’s lavish canopy.
Right here, on this very spot, he felt comfortable enough to close his eyes and let his guard down. For some reason he himself could not fathom, the tree seemed to wrap him up in a protective embrace that virtually separated him from the rest of the world.
The moment he leaned his back on its sturdy trunk, he could feel its warmth seeping through his body, relaxing his nerves, almost immediately lulling him to sleep. In the spring, he particularly loved the faint and calming scent of its flowers in bloom. He even adored the way it leaned boldly on the right side, giving it an awkwardly unbalanced, yet strangely captivating look.
It was on his request that the tree had remained standing, despite its odd appearance.
And over the years, he had grown more attached to it like a lover to his beloved.
This was where he felt most at home, after all.
This was also where he performed his honorable suicide when he, getting on in years and not as agile as his younger self, had a momentary lapse in judgment and failed to protect his lord’s son.
The sakura tree had only the same kind of warmth it always gave him when he leaned against its trunk for the very last time. It covered him in that same protective embrace that kept him hidden in his own precious world. It never judged him, and even seemed to be trying to calm him down amidst the pain of his own sword grazing against his skin.
In the final hazy moments of this life, as he bled out and slowly lost his breath, his memories were filled with the intense smell of cherries, the soft, wordless assurances hummed out by the tree’s rich foliage, and cherry blossom petals riding the breeze in a gaudy display of aerial promenade that celebrated life even in their deaths.
This was the lovely, albeit bittersweet image that kept him afloat in the void that came after...
∞
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