#who meet upon a bridge of magpies once a year to reunite.

[bakedbeanchan]

Sokka and Yue reuniting in the spirit world

[mercheswan]

Tanabata

Stiles as Princess Orihime

Theo as Hikoboshi

Once upon a time, there was a princess named Orihime (織姫; Weaving Princess). She was a weaver who made beautiful pieces of cloth by the bank of Amanogawa, also known as the Milky Way (天の川). Her father loved wearing the cloth that she made so she worked hard every day to weave it. Because Orihime spent most of her time weaving, she felt rather sad and lonely, and thought that she would never be able to meet someone and fall in love.

Her father, Tentei (天帝; Sky King), knew of a good young man who lived just across the Milky Way. His name was Hikoboshi (彦星), a cow herder. The two fell in love instantly, and married shortly after. But their love for each other was so deep that they neglected their duties. Orihime stopped weaving and Hikoboshi’s cows wandered the heavens.

Tentei became very angry and forbade the two lovers to be together. But he was also the father of Orihime and loved her deeply, so he arranged that they could meet up once a year if Orihime returned to her weaving. This day became the 7th day of the 7th month. Finally, the long-awaited day arrived, but the Milky Way was too difficult for both of them to cross. Orihime was devastated and was crying so loud until a flock of magpies heard her crying and built a bridge with their wings, allowing Orihime to cross and reunited with her lover. It is said that when it rains on Tanabata, the magpies do not come and the lovers have to wait another year to meet. -link on the comments-

[pinknerdpanda]

Dead Sea

Word Count: 4,317

Characters: Modern AU!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Language, angst, fluff

SSB Square Filled: “Why the long face?” (Bolded and Italicized below)

Beta’d by: @shy-violet-soul - what would I do without you?!

A/N: Alright, here it is. My first attempt at MCU Fanfic and hopefully the first of more to come. I really love Bucky’s character and the ways parts of him can be expounded upon. This particular piece was written for @heli0s-writes 2K Challenge. My prompt was the song “Dead Sea” by the Lumineers. I kinda picked it apart and used bits of lyrics within the fic, which are highlighted. This is also the first fic for my @star-spangled-bingo card. Hope you enjoy! I’d love to hear your feedback!

If you’d like to be added to my taglist, send me an ask!

X

Dead Sea

“Why the long face?”

Four words, spoken with casual naivete and a breath of gentle teasing. Bucky froze, the unlit cigarette, now forgotten, dangling between his lips as he looked around for the source of his distraction. His gaze landed on her as she flicked her lighter, bringing the flame to her own cigarette and taking a drag. Her hair itself was like fire, brilliant red and vivid orange dancing around her face in the breeze. She smiled, smoke billowing in delicate tendrils from her nose and mouth as she held the lighter out. 

Bucky blinked, glancing around once again. Surely she was addressing someone else? His eyes narrowed as his search came back empty and he looked at her again.

She wiggled the lighter in his direction and chuckled, the sound electrifying every nerve in his body and making the hair on his arms stand on end. A sound that pure and beautiful should be reserved for...well, anything or anyone except him. Bucky knew he should turn around and go back inside - leave her alone and untainted by his mere existence.

And yet as she watched him patiently, the sun overhead making her eyes and hair sparkle, he silently nodded his thanks and accepted the proffered item. It took a few failed attempts before he successfully ignited the tip of his cigarette and inhaled the bitter smoke, returning the lighter in silence.

“I’m y/n,” she offered, tucking it away again.

Dumbstruck.

It’s not a word Bucky would have used to describe himself in recent years. As a naive, fresh-faced kid 20 years ago? Sure. But a former soldier and recently retired enforcer for a powerful mob back East? Hell no.

And yet, there was no other word to describe it.

Bucky Barnes was dumbstruck.

He took a long drag and exhaled, hoping the cloud of smoke would provide some sort of camouflage as he spoke.

“‘M’name’s Bucky,” he mumbled.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky,” her tone brightening around her widening smile. “I haven’t seen you before. You new?”

Bucky nodded, hiding again behind his antiquated bad habit.

“I work just there,” she gestured behind her, cigarette carefully poised between two fingers. “At the salon. I’m a stylist.”

Bucky jerked his thumb to the door a few places down from where she’d pointed. 

“I just started at the pawn shop.” 

Y/n nodded, taking another drag. 

“You said something. Earlier.” Bucky cleared his throat, his continued socialization a surprise to himself. “What did you say?”

Y/n grinned, sheepishly, dropping the cigarette to the ground and stomping it with the toe of her worn Converse.

“I asked ‘Why the long face?’” Y/n pulled her jacket around her, shielding herself from the chilly gusts of late winter air. “It’s just...well. You looked kinda sad.”

Bucky chuckled, flicking his cigarette away deftly. “I’ve been told that’s just my face.”

Y/n pressed her lips together and narrowed her gaze at him, nodding thoughtfully.

“I appreciate the concern, though.” One side of Bucky’s mouth quirked up, the ghost of the charming ladies-man he’d once been playing over his features.

“I’ll see you around, Bucky.” She laughed to herself once more before ducking her head and retreating toward her shop, the door closing behind her.

I hope so. Bucky thought to himself. I really hope so.

----

The next few weeks passed in much the same way; smoke breaks shared behind the strip mall, shy smiles and quiet comfort found in the low murmuring between them. 

“But why did you leave New York for bumfuck Ohio?” She pressed gently one day, flicking ash into the wind. “This place is just so...boring.”

Bucky’s jaw tensed, having dreaded this question from the moment he put the Empire State in his rearview mirror. The dread compounding even more as the thought of telling her the truth flashed through his mind.

Bucky took another drag before tossing the butt on the ground and stomping it out mercilessly.

“New York lied to me. I needed the truth.” Bucky smirked in self-contempt, the irony heavy on his tongue. It wasn’t entirely false, but it wasn’t the honesty he wished he could give her, either. “Besides, boring isn’t so bad.”

He chanced a look in her direction and found her, nodding thoughtfully as she often did, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. To Bucky, that one gesture felt as though she saw through him, though the feeling wasn’t raw and exposed as he kept anticipating. It felt...reassuring, somehow. Like she saw him as someone he wasn’t even certain he was, and was just biding her time until she could reflect the image back to him. 

“Well, whatever brought you here, Bucky,” she smiled, brushing the neon green and pink hair from her eyes. “I’m really thankful it did.”

Bucky cleared his throat, refusing to look at his watch, as though doing so would deplete their time together faster. 

“What about you? If it’s so boring here, why do you stay?” His tone bordered on teasing, but as soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them.

Y/n blinked rapidly, the edges of her smile crumbling visibly. He could practically see her forcing her facial muscles to keep it place.

“It’s my dad,” her voice was barely a whisper. “He’s sick. Cancer. My mom left ages ago and I’m all he’s got.”

She shrugged, leaving him with more questions than answers. Bucky knew better than most not to press the matter. She never did with him, so he allowed her the same respect.

“I’m sorry.” 

Y/n nodded, a silent acceptance of his sincerity. She took a small step forward - her warmth and vitality crowding his space in all the best ways - and, leaning up, pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Blood roared in Bucky’s ears and his heart thudded against his ribs almost violently. The feel of her chapped lips on his skin lingered as she stepped back.

“Have a good afternoon, Bucky.” She started to walk back inside, but turned to face him again. “You oughta come by sometime, let me get my fingers in that hair of yours.”

Feigning offense, Bucky scoffed, and pushed some of the long strands back over his ears. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

Y/n smiled, a renewed joy in the curve of her lips. “Nothing.”

Bucky watched as she retreated back through the door of the salon, finding himself, once again, dumbstruck.

----

“What about - ” she drew the word out, finger outstretched as she settled on the one she wanted, “that one?”

Bucky chuckled. Of course she would pick that one.

“That one is Vega.”

Bucky turned his head, finding her profile highlighted by the glow of the heavens above. He found her joy intoxicating.

He’d been nervous when he asked if she wanted to do something after work earlier in the day. Nervous and more than a little clumsy, having already convinced himself that she’d turn him down. But she hadn’t. In fact, Bucky thought she almost looked relieved. Though whether it was because she’d hoped he’d ask or because she simply needed a brief reprieve from the responsibility of caring for an ailing father, he wasn’t sure. 

All he knew for certain was that sitting there, blanketed by an inky black sky dotted with shimmering stars next to her was the only place he wanted to be. He felt a bone-deep peacefulness he’d never experienced in his life and it had everything to do with the pastel blue-haired girl who’d agreed to go stargazing with him. 

"You know," he began, swallowing thickly when she turned to face him. "They say that Vega was a goddess who fell in love with a farmer. She descended the heavens to be with him and promised to bring him back with her. Her father became so enraged with them, he banished them both to the sky, but far apart from one another."

"That's so sad," she whispered, her face scrunched. 

Bucky nodded.

"But," he began, desperate to wipe the frown from her lips, "once a year - on the seventh day of the seventh month - a bridge of magpies forms across the milky way so the lovers can be reunited once more."

It worked.

Y/n's eyes glittered brightly with excitement again and at once Bucky's breath was stolen from his lungs. In that moment, Bucky would have lassoed the moon and brought it to earth if it meant being cocooned in her mirth for a few more seconds. 

"That's so romantic, in a horribly tragic kind of way." She laughed, the sound knitting together pieces of himself he'd long assumed irreparable. "Thank you for this, Bucky. I needed some fresh air."

"Anytime, sweetheart."

The voice in his head bellowed that the blush gracing her cheeks was a figment of his imagination. But, as her hand linked with his, the roar of doubt and fear subsided for a moment. He closed his eyes briefly, meticulously cataloging the feel of her palm in his own. 

"What are you thinking?" Her melodic voice vibrated through the night air.

"Sometimes," he started, unsure how to put his chaotic thoughts into words. "Sometimes I feel like I'm sinking and I can't seem to catch my breath."

Her thumb soothed gentle circles over his knuckles, sending a shiver down his spine. 

"But for some reason - when I'm with you - I feel like I can't help but float." Bucky cringed. As often as he'd considered expressing his budding feelings for her, he had done a piss-poor job when the moment presented itself.

And yet...

Her lips were warm against the rough skin of his hand and it shot little jolts of electricity up his arm and throughout his body. 

"I'll be your Dead Sea, Bucky," her breath tickled the hair on the back of his hand as she pressed another kiss there. "You'll never sink when you're with me."

----

“You’re insane.”

Y/n giggled merrily as the rhythmic swells of Latin beats carried on the breeze from the Puerto Rican restaurant a few doors away.

Bucky grinned. "Probably."

"It's raining!" Y/n protested, a whine lacing her words.

Bucky tipped his head to one side, his hand held out feeling the gentle patter of rain against his skin. 

"’S’not raining, it's sprinkling. I know you're sweet, but I promise ya won't melt." His words were flat, but his lips betrayed the attempt at a deadpan retort.

Y/n simply narrowed her gaze at him, crossing her arms over her chest, though her smile muted the effect of her challenge.

“Aw, cah’mon, sweetheart,” Bucky drawled, Brooklyn accent thick and charming. “No one’s gonna see us.”

“I don’t know how!” 

Y/n glanced nervously from Bucky’s outstretched palm to his face and back. 

“Well, lucky for you, I’m an excellent teacher.” Bucky quirked an eyebrow as his lips drew up in an inviting grin.

Reluctantly - but only just -  she released the air from her lungs in a dramatic sigh, throwing her hands in the air.

“Fine. But it’s only because you’re cute.”

Bucky’s smile widened as his pulse quickened, a rush of warmth heating his cheeks as she placed her right hand in his. He draped her other on his shoulder before planting his right hand against her back.

“It’s easy, just remember one, two, three. One, two, three.” He squeezed her hand encouragingly. “Now, when I step forward you step back. Just mirror my steps and follow my lead. One, two, three. One, two, three.”

Slowly, carefully, Bucky moved them both in a less-than-graceful rendition of a Salsa dance. He didn’t care when she stepped on his toes and cursed under her breath. All that mattered to him was the feel of her in his arms and the sparkle in her eyes as their steps became somewhat synchronized. 

"So," Bucky mused, taking advantage of her gaze averted in favor of their feet. "Cute, huh?"

Y/n's steps faltered, her left foot landing hard against Bucky's right and her head connecting with his chin as she tried to jerk her eyes up to his. Bucky yelped in pain and y/n stumbled backward, her feet tangling with his as they both crumpled to the ground in a heap.

"Oh my God, Bucky!" Y/n gasped, hands scrambling for purchase as she tried to untangle herself. "I'm so sorry! Are you ok?!"

Bucky's deep laughter halted her efforts to climb off him. She laughed then too - high, slightly embarrassed giggles that she tried to cover with her palm. Her eyes widened as his arms tightened around her waist, drawing her in closer.

Bucky swept the faded purple hair from her face, brushing his thumb against her jaw as their laughter died. It was as if time stopped and the only thing that existed in that moment was the two of them. Her breath caught gently when he hooked his fingers behind her neck and began to pull her face to his.

Whether it was poor timing or just another way for the universe to screw him over, he couldn't be sure. But before their lips met, the skies opened up and large, cold raindrops pelted them, instantly drenching them both and ruining whatever moment it might have been. 

Y/n squealed, jumping to her feet and ducking under the shelter of the awning. Defeated, frustrated and wet, Bucky slowly ambled up and joined her a few moments later. Bucky groaned running his fingers through his soaking hair and trying in vain to wring the water out. Y/n grinned, her cheeks and nose dusted a light pink that he was sure hadn't been there before he'd asked her to dance. 

"Y/n," Bucky started but froze when he realized his voice was one of two calling her name in the same moment.

"Mrs. Perry's timer just went off!"

"I'll be right in!" She called back cheerfully, though her eyes shone with reluctance as Bucky stared into them. "Shit. I'm sorry, Bucky. I uh," she pressed her palms together and dropped her gaze briefly. "Thank you for the dance lesson and sorry for...ya know...being about as graceful as a baby moose."

Before he could protest her self-deprecating remark, she leaned up, pressing a kiss to his cheek and turned to go back inside. Bucky stared after her, his cheek warm despite the chill the rain had tried burying inside his bones.

----

Bucky’s thumb drummed nervously against the wooden surface of the reception desk as he did yet another visual sweep of the room. It was more quiet than he’d expected, though to be honest, he had little to base his assumptions on. 

A few agonizing moments later, a tall, raven haired woman with blood red lips and a ring through her eyebrow approached. She smiled warmly at him, wiping her palms on the front of her black apron.

“Hi, can I help you?”

Bucky swallowed, his nerves making him jittery. “Yeah, I’m looking for y/n.”

“I’m sorry, did you have an appointment?” The woman frowned, a deep crease marring her heavily made-up face. “Judith was supposed to call all of her appointments last night.”

Fear prickled at the back of his neck and a shiver ran down his spine. 

“I didn’t have an appointment. I’m Bucky. From next door? Is she okay?”

“Oh of course. Bucky.” The woman smiled and then sighed. “Her father passed away yesterday afternoon. I know she’d been expecting it eventually, but I don’t think anyone is really ever ready.”

His heart broke for her. He wished he’d known or that there was something he could have done. He’d make the earth spin backwards if it would make her happy.

“Do you know where she lives?” Bucky cringed knowing how stalker-y that sounded. “I just, I’m worried about her.”

The woman pursed her lips, her eyes roaming over his face, studying him. Whatever she’d found there must have been enough because she pulled out a pen and a slip of paper.

“If anything happens to her, Bucky From Next Door, I will not hesitate to kill you. I know where you work and I know that boss of yours better than you do.” She scribbled something on the paper before pushing it towards him. Her expression softened, then, a small smirk playing at the edge of her lips. “Besides, I think she could use a friend right now. If that’s what you’re calling yourselves these days.”

Bucky blushed, but nodded. He mumbled his thanks as he hurried out the door.

----

Bucky paused, his fist poised to knock on the bright yellow door as he sucked in a steadying breath. The setting sun stole the warmth of spring from the air and he found himself shivering. Just when he calmed his nerves, the door opened suddenly, startling him and forcing him to take a step backward. Y/n’s face was pale and her wide eyes were rimmed with red, but the visible signs of sorrow did nothing to lessen her beauty. 

“Bucky?” She gasped a second before she lunged for him, wrapping him in a fierce hug. 

He held her as she shuddered against him and buried her face in the crook of his neck. The sound of her broken sobs made his stomach churn and he rubbed small, comforting circles against her back. 

She pulled back suddenly, rubbing her eyes violently and huffing a frustrated laugh.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blubber all over - “

“No,” Bucky cut her off. “Sweetheart, don’t apologize. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Sniffling, she tried smiling, though it was little more than a faint upturn of her lips. 

"You are, aren't you." Her nose scrunched in thought. "How did you know?"

Bucky ran a shaking hand through his hair, eyes focused in his scuffed boots.

"I, uh," he cleared his throat. "I stopped by to see if I could get a haircut. They told me about...what happened." He looked at her then. "I'm so sorry, y/n." 

She nodded, arms wrapping around herself. 

"I knew it was coming soon, I just," she took a deep breath and released it. She continued, voice soft. "I thought I would have more time, ya know?"

Bucky hummed in understanding. 

"You want to come in? I just made some coffee." She laughed. "I don't even know why I came out here. I think I'm a little out of it."

Bucky followed her inside, shutting the door behind him. She led him through the small entryway and into the kitchen, dodging a small pile of suitcases stacked near the doorway. Glasses rattled as she searched for a pair of mismatched mugs and set them on the counter beside the coffee pot.

"You goin' somewhere?" Bucky tipped his head toward the bags when she looked at him. 

Her eyes flashed with something Bucky didn't understand before she turned back to her task. The scent of black coffee was comforting as she handed him a mug. A frowning panda glared up at him from the surface of the cup below the words "I hate mornings." It made Bucky smile. 

Y/n cleared her throat, drawing his attention back to her. She faced him, hip resting against the edge of the counter. 

"He had been sick for so long, I started to think that this was all my life would ever be. I figured I'd stay, take care of him, maybe get a few cats." Cradling her own mug in one hand, she ran her fingers through uncharacteristically messy orange hair. "But, now that he's...gone…" her voice trembled on the words, but she continued. "I don't know. I think domestic life never really suited me. I kind of want to live for myself, for a change."

Bucky nodded, forcing down the lump in his throat before taking a sip of coffee. 

Y/n smoothed her hands along the sides of her mug, her brow furrowed as she stared at the black liquid. 

"His funeral is Tuesday," she sniffed. "I didn't really have any expenses here, so I've got some money saved. I thought, why not just get away for awhile, ya know?"

Bucky set his cup down and took a step toward her. Her breath hitched, though she didn't look at him. Carefully he tugged the mug from her hands and placed it beside his.

"Well, I'm glad," he smirked, placing his hands on her shoulders and squeezing gently. "Cause you and cats? That's just not right."

Y/n giggled, the sound oddly strangled around the sudden resurgence of tears. 

"C'mere," he sighed, wrapping his arms around her and tucking her head under his chin. She breathed deeply, hugging him closer and fisting her hands in the back of his shirt. 

This time when she pulled back, she kept hold of him, but her face twisted in confusion.

"Wait, did you say you wanted a haircut?!" Her voice bordered on incredulous. 

Bucky shrugged one shoulder. "Thought it might be time for a change. 'Sides, you said you wanted to get your hands on it." 

Y/n gaped at him and reached up to run her fingers through his chestnut locks. The feel of her nails against his scalp forced his eyes closed and he hummed lightly.

She tugged on one strand, not enough to hurt but enough to get his attention. When his eyes opened again, the soft look on her face startled him. Her hand dropped to the curve of his jaw, her thumb brushing gently against the bristles peppering his cheek.

"Maybe a trim, but there's no way I could deprive the world of this hair, Buck. That would be a travesty." She blushed. "I only wanted an excuse to run my fingers through it."

Without giving himself a chance to back out, Bucky dipped his head and kissed her. Her lips were warm and she sighed, pressing herself closer to him. His tongue licked across her lip as his nose brushed hers. He pulled back, tugging her bottom lip gently between his before sucking in a steadying breath. 

She smiled, pressing her forehead against his. "About time."

Bucky chuckled, pecking her lips twice as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Come with me."

Her voice was so low, he wondered for a moment if he'd imagined it, but her gaze was pleading. 

"Y/n," he sighed. "I don't know if that's a good idea." 

Defeat, exhaustion, embarrassment and rejection played across her face as she nodded, her hands dropping at her sides.

"Sorry," she breathed, turning away from him. 

Bucky caught her elbow and turned her back to face him. 

"It's not because I don't want to, because God knows I do," he bit down on his lip, clenching his eyes shut in preparation for what came next. "There's just things about me that you don't know. Things I don't want you to know, because seeing disappointment in your eyes might actually kill me."

Her hand cupped his cheek, thumb tracing the edge of his mouth before gently tugging his lip from between his teeth. His eyes found hers again and his heart stammered at the tenderness there.

"Bucky, I don't have to know everything about who you used to be to know you are a good man. I could never be disappointed in you."

Her words lifted a small part of the weight he'd carried from the East coast, though he figured the bulk of it would likely remain with him forever. 

"When I left New York, I didn't know exactly where I was going. I just headed west, kept moving, until I got here. This just felt right, somehow. I don't know why I stopped here, y/n. I needed someone I could trust, but it felt impossible. I felt like all I would ever do was sink under the weight of what I left behind." He smoothed a hand through her hair, watching the way the light danced over the brightly colored strands. "But then I met you and, I know I don't deserve it, and I'll never be worthy enough, but you make me want to try. Try to be better, try to be a good man."

She frowned at him then, and confusion jumbled his thoughts and burned his eyes. 

"You don't have to try, Bucky. You are." She smiled. "And I already told you. You'll never sink when you're with me."

Bucky kissed her, this time with a fierceness. Her tongue meet his eagerly and once again he found himself sinking, but this time in all the best ways. 

He pulled back, his lips swollen and his lungs aching for air. 

"Come with me, Bucky." She plead again, her voice was rough and he knew he'd lost any willpower he'd once had to her. 

He nodded and she rewarded him with the sweetest smile he'd ever known. Once again he found himself dumbstruck.

Curling her fingers with his, she tugged him out of the kitchen - away their already forgotten mismatched mugs half-full of warm coffee - and led him to the sofa. He sat down, pulling her onto his lap and resting his chin against her hair. 

A comfortable silence fell between them as he stroked her back and breathed in the scent of her. If he could bottle up a moment in time to save forever, this would be it. He'd never felt such peace and while he struggled to accept his worthiness of such a feeling, knowing she trusted him meant the world. 

She sniffed, pulling back to look into his eyes, and the sorrow he saw etched into her face was palpable.

"Would you stay the night?" Her lip quivered as she tried and failed to blink back tears. "I - uh- I don't want to be alone."

Bucky pecked her lips, brushing away the wetness trailing her cheeks. "Sweetheart, you don't have to be alone, ever again."

----

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[project-ohagi]

Keigo Takami ღ Hawks {Folklore AU/Tanabata}

Buy me a coffee!! <3

Tanabata - Star Festival  [In the original, Hikoboshi was a cow-herder, but here, Keigo is a falconer! Also, I used hawks instead of magpies]!

Vega/Orihime: (Y/n)

Altair/Hikoboshi: Keigo

----

The stars danced overhead, flickering in and out like a near-extinguished candle, painting the sky with shimmers of silver.

What could it have been, if not a testament to an incandescent romance? With the moon as their witness, the lovers embraced, spilling sweet, heartfelt nothings to atone for their months of separation - in which they awaited, perpetually, the very next July. The anguish and longing faded for merely a day.

The children, with robes tightly wound, turned their attention heavenward. Expressions of joy overtook them, for although the lovers were woefully star-crossed, their love transcended every boundary, no matter human or divine. It was because they loved in earnest, that they would survive, bear children, and thrive among the stars. A weaver and a falconer - a tale of instant love, of sorrowful beginnings and bittersweet endings. For the lovers, 'goodbye' held no great meaning past 'I shall cross this bridge again, my dearest'. There happened a throbbing pain, which waxed and waned throughout the year, but tore neither of them apart completely. Their story of love and loss was a cycle, destined to repeat until the universe ceased to exist.

For this one night, peace and serenity would come upon all the creatures, and all the gods. But the herald of morn was approaching with haste, and time was of the essence.

"Is there something on your mind, dove?"

Oftentimes, your reveries consisted of scenarios you couldn't bear to imagine, or the many years (when consecutively, your heart slipped into a deep mourning) in which the rainfall had seemed to forbid your meeting. You were trapped on opposing sides of the galaxy. It was your punishment, for once, love clouded your vision such that you had neglected everything, except one another. It was a powerful fire, that yielded to nothing. It could never be reduced to embers, nor quenched. You and he together embodied home, warmth, security. There were never doubts, nor arguments. You had not been endowed with the luxury of time.

"Do you remember when my father first brought us together?" You asked, fingers gliding delicately across his skin.

He chuckled. "How could I not? I fell in love with a single glance."

"As did I." His aura soothed your very soul. "Then, how about our first meeting, after the exile?"

"I remember it vividly, angel. I was in awe - you looked as beautiful as ever, and you felt as soft...like feathers." His blonde locks tickled your nape.

You giggled. "I remember my sorrow, and how I cried."

"Because there was no bridge, and the hawks, who heard your cries, came to assist?" He guessed, peppering your neck with kisses.

This subject carried a heavy emotional burden, and yet...addressing it seemed almost imperative.

"Indeed, my love. I was despaired of ever marrying, finding someone to treasure...so when father threatened to part us forever, I pleaded with him so desperately. I would never allow you to be taken, and I in turn, would never stray from your love. And if you were to pass, my heart would leap from my chest, to join you."

"I wish to echo your sentiments. You have long been my everything, and my heart, my lips, my soul...each part of me belongs to you. I vow to always hold your hand, even in death. My loyalties will never waver."

For this one night, embosomed by the arms of your prince, your saviour and your hero...you could break from all obligations, melt into him, feel his cold breath upon your skin. "I hope the rain is staved off again, come next year. I am lonely in your absence, my darling."

"Not too lonely, I hope? I miss you terribly each year, but when Summer dawns, the prospect of meeting you warms my heart. I long for this day. It is my favourite, above all others." He nuzzled you, relishing in the small, contented sighs escaping your lips.

Those gorgeous, plump lips.

You gazed at him, affection twinkling in your eyes. "Lonely beyond compare. I yearn to hold you close, to ask you questions - oh, I have so many, but...time is not something we have an excess of."

"If it were, I would still spend every second with you. You could ask your questions, I could ask mine...I would hold you closer, I would kiss you more." There existed a mischief in his voice, but you wouldn't ever trade it - strip away that roguish spark and replace it with innocence.

There would be no fun, no thrill.

Perfection was impossible to improve upon, regardless. "If that is your wish, then perhaps we do not need infinity?"

"Perhaps not, but I would still pray for it. It pains me that I cannot sleep beside you - my destiny. That, come the morning, I will be without you, once more..."

"Oh, Keigo...I will find my way back into your embrace. Always." Your devotion was genuine, unbridled - a thousand eternities could pass you by, and you might never notice.

His strong arms were no prison, no gilded cage; you felt the freedom coursing through your veins. It was freedom of choice, of love...but you would always return to him. The perennial years caused no disillusion, like perhaps your father had hoped. And your wistful words only strengthened the bond, as you recalled every fleeting moment together, whilst mapping out your future - the future that you would decide upon, as husband and wife.

Vega and Altair, (Y/n) and Keigo, lovers quick to matrimony, adored by the stars. "You will be welcome. Always."

This state of bliss was something you had only dreamed of, all those moons ago. "Keigo...I was losing myself, until you found me. Our hearts share a rhythm."

"(Y/n)...my life was void of colour, and happiness, until we met. Without you, I would succumb to that dark, sorrowful abyss of my past." The truth in his words was almost tangible.

You giggled, disturbing the motion of his hand on your stomach. "Why do you suppose they are hawks? I had envisioned a bridge of magpies - would they not better suit my character?"

"A hawk is a good omen, to see your dreams and goals through to completion. Perhaps they sensed your desperation...your lament? Ah, they are also messengers of the Spirit World."

"The Spirit World...? Then...were we perhaps mentioned? By the spirits of the flowers and the trees?" There was beauty in such starry-eyed curiosity.

A wave of grief crashed down, as he considered yet another year bereft of your seraphic voice, and feather-light touches. "It could be."

"Maybe they are watching over us. Oh, does that not sound divine?"

"Your voice sounds divine. I could listen for aeons, and never tire. I find myself longing to hear it, all too often." He confessed, with a sigh.

Such a doleful response should have been stifled - your conversation was never supposed to sour so. "Can you hear them? The children? They are hanging more tanzaku, by the shrine."

"Do you wish for children? Is it possible for us?"

"Nothing is impossible, my love. But I fear that time is not on our side, this year. So...perhaps the next?" Intimacy, in all its forms, was glorious.

Faint heartbeats and breaths amplified in this closeness. "Hmm...dove, if I could grant a single wish, for what would you ask?"

"I would ask for you." There was a pause - it was typical of him to be so sentimental, but this question carried a melancholic undertone. "To be yours, even as everything fades."

His stubble scratched against your skin. "In the reversed roles, I would ask the same."

You knew this, and you loved it. "I often wonder whether Okuninushi proposed our match."

"Haha, I wonder that as well." His laugh was spellbinding. "Had you rejected my courtship, I might have relinquished life to heartbreak, before your eyes."

"I would sooner perish myself, than cause you such misery."

"I would never allow that. I have an obligation to love, and to protect - as both husband and soulmate. My happiness is trivial, in comparison to yours." He swept aside your hair, cold fingers sending waves of pleasant feeling straight to your heart.

He tilted your head, as the weight of your eyelids became too great.

"You are my happiness, my home. If there was no spark of joy in your life, how could there be one in mine?"

The illumination below, from lanterns and torches that clung to trees and children's hands, was beautiful but brief. Some tanzaku glided with the wind, while the others were determined to remain on their branches. You sensed each and every wish, as if they were whispered into your ears. And perhaps this was true. Your faces were reflected in all the lovers, from young to old. Gratitude and hope, you directed toward them. Gratitude, for their wishes of well. Hope, for the flourishing of their love. Romantic love, self-love, and anything in-between. You hoped for them to find it, to show it in a fashion both pure and prudent.

For this one night, peace and serenity would come upon all the creatures, and all the gods.

Keigo and (Y/n) were finally reunited.

[Word Count: 1535]

[faintblueivy]

"Those cherry blossoms show your real beauty." and "Cherry blossoms line is so overrated, please say something more original or pick another flower." BoruSara request if you willing to accept it, you can pick any setting you want. BTW I don't see the reason why I should make herself anon, so here I am! Your clumsy fan Kirumi ;)

Hi everyone! I’m finally done with this sequel of Starting Again and can’t wait to share it with you all! Thanks to @karinrumi for this amazing prompt and also to @mirachaann for beta reading it! My submission for Borusaraweek 2019! Day 3!

Prompt: Flowers

Word Count: 4k

Genre: Fluff

It’s Your Flower

“I’m late! Damn!”

Boruto hisses under his breath as his feet pound against the floor loudly. As he races through the stairs and then the corridors, he sees that barely a few people pass by him, noting how the school was almost empty now. As soon as the plank of 2 A comes into sight, his speed slows down and he pushes the door open immediately. There she was, sitting on her seat calmly in an empty classroom. The curtain of her dark hair was blocking her face from his gaze.

“Sarada!” He calls out and she immediately whirls around to look at him.

“Oh, you’re here,” she says nonchalantly.

“It’s late! You shouldn’t have waited for me!”

He crosses the distance between them, plopping on the seat in front of her, still slightly out of breath.

“You asked me to, didn’t you?” She laughs.

“Err…I didn’t think I’d be this late. You should have gone home.” He insists again, peeking over the notes sprawled on her desk.

“Hmm, but you still came to check.” She gives him a knowing smile, “And you did run!”

Boruto immediately averts his gaze, “I didn’t! I just did exercise!”

“Sure. Exercise.” she says with a smug smirk.

They immediately lock down on a glaring contest which - Boruto notes – was becoming quite a norm nowadays. And to be honest, he didn’t mind…peering into her eyes – which were so beautifully expressive, capable of projecting her delicate feelings. He is the one to blink away first, unable to handle the heat creeping up his neck.

“Come on. Let’s not stay here.”

He doesn’t even give her the time to respond as he slings her bag over his shoulder and proceeds to exit the classroom. He chuckles at her protests as she scrambles up, gathering her notes and running after him.

“Give me my bag!” She pouts, still trying to balance the notebooks and sheets in her arms.

“Nah. You carry that troublesome package.” His hand waves at the mess she’s carrying. “And leave this to me.” He points to her bag hanging on his shoulder. She narrows her eyes but doesn’t argue anymore.

They trudge down the same stairs that he had raced up a few minutes ago when Sarada asks, “Where are we going exactly?”

“Our secret base, of course,” he exclaims gleefully and Sarada suppresses the incessant urge to roll her eyes. Despite it all, a tiny smile curls upon her lips helplessly.

The ‘secret base’ he was referring to was their bench. Yes, that particular bench where she had treated his injuries and well, the place where they became friends, so it was theirs.

It was some distance away from their school, in a deserted park and barely any people passed by. It was a place where they could sit and relax together, without a worry in the world and know a lot more about each other. A safe haven, and a place to go to for them. 

As they walk through the school premises, Boruto waves to those who greet them and Sarada gives them all nods of acknowledgement and polite smiles.

Only eight minutes later, they are at the park. Boruto deposits both of their bags on the side and plops down. Sarada immediately follows after, placing the notes in between them. She rummages through some of them before pulling out a few sheets of paper stapled together and shoves them to him. At his questioning brow, she commands simply. “Read.”

“Tanabata is celebrated to commemorate the romantic story of two lovers represented by the stars Vega and Altair who are only allowed to meet each other once a year as long as the skies are clear.

It is celebrated on the 7th day of the 7th lunar month, which is July 7th in the modern calendar. Some places in Japan celebrate Tanabata on August 7th in accordance with the older Chinese calendar, which is where the legend originated.

The most famous of all the Tanabata festivals is celebrated in Sendai on August 7th, but most of Japan recognizes July 7th.”

Boruto stops, taking a breath before reading further everything on her notes with wide eyes.

“Tanabata originated from a Chinese legend called Qixi and was brought to Japan in the 8th century. This is the story of two lovers. Princess Orihime, the seamstress, wove beautiful clothes by the heavenly river, represented by the Milky Way. Because Orihime worked so hard weaving beautiful clothes, she became sad and despaired of ever finding love. Her father, who was God of the heavens, loved her dearly and arranged for her to meet Hikoboshi, the cow herder who lived on the other side of the Milky Way. The two fell in love instantly and married. Their love and devotion was so deep that Orihime stopped weaving and Hikoboshi allowed his cows to wander the heavens.

Orihime’s father became angry and forbade the lovers to be together, but Orihime pleaded with him to allow them to stay. He loved his daughter, so he decreed that the two star-crossed lovers could meet once a year–on the 7th day of the 7th month if Orihime returned to her weaving. On the first day they were to be reunited, they found the river (Milky Way) to be too difficult to cross. Orihime became so despondent that a flock of magpies came and made a bridge for her. It is said that if it rains on Tanabata-”

Boruto halts reading out-loud, his eyes sweeping over the page. All it said was more about the story and rituals related to the festival.

“…Sarada?” He questions, vaguely gesturing toward the sheaf of papers in his hand, “We’re supposed to write a play here…not an essay.”

“I know that!” Sarada glares, half hissing and half yelling. “Read the next page idiot!”

He nods and turns the page over, eyes skimming through the material and then widening with each next page.

“You wrote the entire play all by yourself?!” He asks, feeling both in-credulousness and – if he were to be honest - quite impressed.  

“Most of it,” she says nonchalantly. “A few girls helped me through.” She admits, and Boruto has an inkling as to how much the girls might have ‘helped’ her. He shakes his head at her fondly and then pays attention to the rest of the reading left to be done. And he has to admit, every new line is nothing short of excellence.

“This is going to be a blast!” He exclaims excitedly. “We just need to execute it properly.”

Sarada nods in agreement, but when he questions, “Who’s going to be Hikoboshi?,” she can’t help but raise up her brows, a smirk dancing upon her lips.

“Class decided,” she shrugs. “You’ll be.”

“Oh– wait? What?! Why me?!” He wails, angry that he was chosen again.

“Everyone said that they wanted their hero to be the Hero of the drama.” Sarada snickers.

“But I don’t have enough time!” He yells, frantic.

“Everyone said that they were willing to wait after classes,” she says quietly, as if prepared for any excuses he had. 

“Arghhh! Now I can’t even have fun! I am overburdened. Thanks to a certain someone’s decisive vote to make me class representative for the festival.” He glares at her.

“Now, now, Boruto! Be a man!” She taps him on the shoulder patronizingly. “It will suit you, I’m sure.”

“Why-” he leans closer to her, blue eyes narrowing, “-do I feel like there was definitely some meddling done by a certain someone?”

“Oh? Are you trying to accuse me of this now?” She smirks, a playful look overcoming her features.

“I never said it was you,” he says as a matter-of-fact. “You admitted yourself!” He finishes, waving his arm with flair of triumph.

“You insinuated it.” She stood up from her seat, slightly turning her head to look at him. “But what if I do admit that it was me?”

The question hangs in the air for several moments before Boruto yells, “I trusted you! But…you! You betrayed me! Why Sarada? How can you do something like that to me?”

“Well, I just figured… the more busy you got the less trouble you’d cause? Hehe!” She laughs a little, feeling a bit proud of herself for the small game she had played.

“Hehe.” He mimics her and she knows that she has to instantly run or it’ll be trouble for her.

“You! Come back here, now!” He shouts, hot on her tail as he chases her through the entire park. Their notes, books, and bags left behind on the bench, the empty park filled with their yelling and the shrieks of laughter. The vibrant orange sunset and their happiness together beautifully meld into a fond memory that deserves to be cherished forever.

…

“I was thinking…” He appears beside her out of nowhere on her walk to school the next morning.

“A very dangerous pastime,” she comments, hiding a smirk. He glares at her but she ignores it like a pro who has mastered the said art.

“About the script,” he continues, successfully catching her attention.

“What about it?” Her head tilts towards him in curiousity. 

“Maybe we should change it? Slightly? The scene where Hikoboshi first meets Orihime,” he suggests.

“Hmm? What do you want to change about it?”

“I was thinking about the cherry blossoms scene,” he says. “As well as that one line where he compares her beauty to the cherry blossoms around them.”

Sarada hums in understanding as they reach the classroom. She slides into her seat and retrieves the bundle of papers from her bag. Flipping through the pages she finally finds the part he was talking about.

“'Those cherry blossoms show your real beauty.’ this one?”

Boruto peeks over her shoulder and nods immediately.

“Yup! Cherry blossoms line is so overrated. Please say something more original or pick another flower.” He remarks.

Anyway, before she could say anything, the school bell chimes, echoing through the classroom.

“Hey, come on! The assembly won’t begin without us! Boruto grins, helping her stuff the papers into her bag again and then proceeding to grab her arm to drag her out of the class. 

…

The entire day passes by and Sarada still does not understand why Boruto doesn’t want cherry blossoms in the play. They were beautiful and delicate flowers, symbolizing spring and beauty, as well as fleetingness of happiness for Orihime and Hikoboshi. And she cannot think of anything better to express their tragic love story.

Cherry blossoms also meant renewal which felt like a gracious nod to the promise of meeting each other again every year for the star-crossed lovers. Cherry blossoms were perfect for the play, no doubt. But he probably had his reasons for not wanting them.

When school was over, she waits for him in the class like she normally does. He is by her side in a few minutes and both of them climb down the stairs. He is whistling nonchalantly but Sarada has her mind shooting questions.

“Why don’t you want the cherry blossoms?” She whispers, and then looks up at him, trying to observe any minute detail that might show his discomfort, “Is there a reason you don’t like them?”

He blinks twice before muttering, “It's… not that I don’t like them. It’s just that… they are not your flowers.” He explains as if she was supposed to know that.

“Oh,” she frowns a little before realization hits her “Wait. Wait, Boruto? Are you…under the impression that I’m the one playing Orihime?”

“You’re… not?” He questions, brows pinched in confusion.  

“No, I’m not. I forgot to mention, didn’t I? Sorry about that.” She shakes her head.

“It’s alright,” he says, flustered. “But who is Orihime then?”

“Sumire-san.”

“Ehhhh??? The class rep? Why?”

“Um, we thought she fits the image of a beautiful, delicate and sad princess better than anyone. And traditionally, the Princess had long hair and Sumire-san definitely is the one with the longest hair among all of us. And well… a bunch of other factors as well.”

“I-it makes sense now… I guess. But I-I really thought that you were playing Orihime.” He nods enthusiastically, eyes never staying in one place, his cheeks still a little pink, and his arm comes up to rub the back of his neck.

“Anyway, I do not have that princess beauty to be honest.” She confesses, startling him for a second before he hums gently.

“Yeah, now that I think about it…you don’t.” Boruto agrees, and for some reason, Sarada feels a sting of pain shooting through her heart. But then he gives her a look, blue eyes softening.

“Your beauty is more like that of a warrior.”

That faint admiration in his eyes makes a blush bloom on her cheeks.

“Well, if it’s class rep then cherry blossoms are fine,” he says with utter nonchalance before giving her a curt nod.

She nods in agreement before what he said finally registers in her mind. She halts in her steps. 

“What do you mean by that? Oy, Boruto, where are you going? Why are cherry blossoms fine for class rep but not for me?“ She yells at him but he’s already running down the corridor, shouting rambunctiously and roughhousing people like he ordinarily does.

…

The next morning when they meet, she voices out her questions.

“Why… why did you think cherry blossoms suit class rep and not me?” She does not want to admit it, but it felt unnerving for some reason.

“Wait… did I offend you or something?” He exclaims, slightly panicking, bending down to look at her.

“No! No! It’s nothing like that!” Sarada waves her arms defensively. “It’s just…I thought cherry blossoms are beautiful. I think…I was surprised?”

He straightens back, looking thoughtful, as if taking time to arrange his words carefully.

“It’s not that I don’t find them beautiful…well, it’s more like, the delicate beauty of cherry blossoms, when I see it, it doesn’t remind me of you. You need something bolder, more vibrant. I don’t know why I think like this, but I do.”

“So, you mean, flowers remind you of certain people?” She questions, her head tilted to a side.

“Definitely! Like, when I see lavender, it reminds me of my Mom.” He says gently before bursting out loudly,“And then, the sunflowers! They are so bright and colorful that they scream Himawari to me!” He grins like a happy kid and Sarada is unable to hold back a smile.

“So, you suppose that there must be a flower for me too? Something that reminds you solely of…me?” she asks, with slight hesitation and slight hope.

“I don’t know…which it is yet.” He admits. “The flower that reminds me of you…but I promise I’ll find it! Your flower!”

…

Sarada watches from the sidelines, speaking up her part when needed otherwise. Boruto was playing his part stunningly. She hadn’t imagined that he would be such a stellar actor. But then again, he’s always been unpredictable. 

And Sumire was no less. Her gentle demeanor and gracefulness fit well with Orihime’s soft and woefully tragic longing. The two of them together were absolutely captivating! The audience seemed to think that as well, with their wide eyes and jaws hanging.

There was a stirring caused up in audience when the Emperor of the heavens - Orihime’s father unleashed his anger towards the young couple separating them, and Sarada had to admit that Inojin played the role perfectly. He looked beautiful in his elegant clothes, and wrathful in his disposition.

The scene of separation was a painful one, but Orihime’s pining for her loved one was even worse. Sarada grabs the mike again and speaks her part.

“Months passed, but the princess could not return back to her weaving. The designs she made looked soulless now, her eyes dull with sadness. She would not speak, nor smile. So was her longing and love for Hikoboshi. Her father, the Emperor, could not bear seeing his precious child like that anymore. All his attempts to entice her with exquisite jewels, fine silks and lavish gardens failed. So, he finally made a decision~”

The next parts of the play went smoothly and all of the hard work they’ve put together in the making of this play seemed to work. The spectators clapped like crazy in the final scene where the two lovers were finally able to reunite.

As all the cast collects on the stage to present their gratitude to the viewers for their patience and cooperation, Boruto darts down the stage, grabbing Sarada’s wrist and drags her back to the main stage, a big wide grin on his face. When a lot of spectators immediately recognize her as the narrator of the play, she feels her heart thrum into her ears in resonance with the lovely cacophony.

And when Sumire, who was standing on the other side of Boruto gives her an encouraging smile which Sarada immediately returns and together, holding hands, they bow down to the audience and receive another heavy round of applause making Sarada feel as if all her efforts had received justice.

…

She walks through the decorated hallways of the school. The play was in for an immense success and every person they encountered seemed to praise their work. Sarada is elated. After working for continuous hours, at the end, they felt relieved now to finally be able to enjoy the cultural festival. Getting Sumire out of her elegant Kimono was a strenuous task but they had finally managed it without any serious mishaps.

Different classes had different scheduled stuff and Sarada could not wait to take a look around. The bag on her shoulders was heavy since it was loaded with hamburgers that class 1 C’s stall was selling. As she arrives near the classroom that had been given as the boys’ dress-room, almost all of them exit at once whining about how hungry they were. Her eyes flick around to catch a glimpse of a mop of golden hair but to no avail. Instead, she is noticed by someone else.

“Sarada?” Shikadai calls her out, gaining the attention of every boy in the group. She slides the bag off her shoulder and tosses it to him.

“Burgers.” It’s the only word she utters out before they attack the bag like rabid dogs, and she’s glad for a second that she’s not the one holding it anymore.

And in less than a minute, the bag is emptied.

“You guys didn’t save any for Boruto!” She complains to Shikadai and he smirks knowingly, jerking his chin to the small paper bag she had in her right hand.

“I would have saved him one if I hadn’t known that you’d already kept some for him away.”

Caught red-handed, Sarada flushes instantly and Shikadai laughs before gesturing to the room, tossing her bag back to her.

“He’s inside,” he says and leaves, waving a hand back at her.

…

When Sarada slides the door open, Boruto is in the middle of changing. His pants ride low on his hips and his back is turned towards her as he pulls his shirt up. Sarada feels color bloom upon her cheeks, biting her lower lip to ignore how his well defined muscles contour and move with his actions.

That’s when he notices her.

“Sa-Sarada?!” He squeaks and she yelps, jumping out of the room and slamming the door back into the place.

In merely thirty seconds, the sound of the door opening reaches her ears and Boruto comes to stand beside her. She is averting her gaze in shame from him.

“You know,” he taunts, “girls peeping on boys is as shameful as boys peeping on girls.”

“I wasn’t peeping,” she snaps, eyes flicking over his face and feels a weird happy rush in her stomach seeing how red his cheeks were.

“Sure you weren’t.” Even while blushing, his sass wasn’t going anywhere.

She pushes him inside the classroom in fake anger and shuts the door behind them.

…

They’re sitting together comfortably, him on the desk and Sarada on the bench, both of them having a burger in their hands as they calmly chew, eyes appreciating the beauty of the sun that was about to set.

“Thanks!” He raises his burger and talks with his mouth full, but Sarada does not have the energy to chide him.

“You did well, in the play,” she compliments, smiling gently. “Never messed up a single line and conducted your part very smoothly. I am impressed.”

He smirks and bows, “I aim for nothing else but to please, Ma’am.”

The silence stretches between them, devoid of any specific conversations but she feels content. Being with him was… like living with a box of surprises. Sometimes he’d be a whirlwind of activity and other times he’d be a quiet thinker. Whimsical, she’d say.

It is him who breaks the silence. “Hey, the other day, I visited Inojin’s mom’s flower shop,” he says, softly, as if not wanting to ruin the peace between them.

“Hmm?” She was not sure where he was going with this.

“I found it. Your flower, I mean.”

She whips her head around fast, eyes wide, and he just grins before jumping off the desk he was sitting on. He crosses the distance of a few seats to reach his own desk and starts rummaging through his backpack.

She watches him with curious eyes, feeling her heart beating rapidly. She wondered what kind of flower made him think of her. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn’t realise when he came to stand beside her, his arm wound around his back to hide whatever he was hiding.

She peers up at him through her lashes, excitement barely hidden in her eyes. And then he finally extends his arm in her direction. There, sitting on the top of his palm was…

A red camellia.

She feels her breath hitch in her throat, overwhelmed for a few moments before looking up at him again.

“Camellia is a spring flower, isn’t it? And the red color shows how spirited and passionate you are about your goals and also your bonds! The moment I saw this,” he smiled nostalgically, “I thought of you.”

Sarada feels a deep red blush painting her cheeks, her mind running mile a minute. She was no stranger to camellias. They were gorgeous flowers that always somehow soothed her heart. Especially, the red camellias… she knew what they meant. These red flowers had meaning - an amalgam of passion, desire and… Oh!

Oh!

Did he know?

“Y-you know,” she stutters, her onyx eyes fixing themselves on the beautiful red flower in her cupped palms “Red camellias…mean one more thing.”

It takes him only a fraction of second to curl his arm around her waist to pull her in. Sarada yelps loudly and he blurts out a ‘sorry’ before smashing their lips together. It takes her a moment to register what had happened but he’s already pulling away.

He never averts his gaze away from her, even as he is embarrassed like hell. His blue eyes, shimmering with warmth and affection make her lean into him even more. And the flower is still clutched in her hand.

“I know the meaning,” he tells her, still peering down at her. “Do you?”

Sarada does not hesitate to fist his shirt and drag him down to meet her lips again. This time, they are both prepared. Their lips move in perfect synchronization, tasting each other and melting into each other’s embrace. But the lack of oxygen makes them pull away soon after.

Sarada giggles, huffing for air.

“Do I?”

A moment of stunning quietness follows before they both burst out laughing, unable to hold it together. Sarada is deliriously happy, because how can she not be. This idiot was hers now.

He surprises her though, grabbing her slender wrist which held the flower and bringing it up to him. His lips gently brush her soft fingers, eyes still intently on her and she feels a tingling sensation rush all through her bones.

He smiles.

“It’s your flower.”

“Yes.” She smiles too.

It is mine.

…

Well? I’m super excited to know about your thoughts for this fic. I wrote this in parts with a lot going on in my real life and honestly, I felt as if I had lost touch in. writing BoruSara. I hope this story was enjoyable enough to you all!

Btw, everything I mentioned about Camellias was true! Red camellias do symbolise passion or desire and of course, romantic love as well. They are even coupled with pink camellias to present romantic love.

And all the stuff about Tanabata? I got it from here!

This story was fun for me to write, I hope it was for fun for you all to read as well! A cookie for for thoughts!!!

[theflashdriver]

Wet Kindling (Tanabata Silvaze)

Tanabata is a festival to celebrate reuniting of Orihime and Hikoboshi, a pair of gods who fell deeply in happily married only to be forcibly separated for their failure to maintain their duties. Now they work continuously and can only meet once per year, on the seventh month of the seventh day, but atop that, there is a further stipulation; they cannot meet if it rains on that assigned day. Lovers forcibly separated and burdened by hefty duties drew to mind Silver and Blaze. Once united, now separated Blaze is a princess guarding a parallel world while Silver is left to tend the future alone. This similarity has been referenced in Sonic channel artwork. Silver was shown directly celebrating Tanabata, releasing a wish tag into the sky, before Blaze was depicted creating a flame in the shape of a Silver’s quills, a maple leaf, and setting it to float free. Utilising their similarity and details tied to the Tanabata story I decided to write something, I hope folks enjoy it! This story assumes the events of 06 happened, Silver and Blaze forgetting their shared life and being separated, but they haven’t reunited.

A stone bridge lay underfoot; an arch, taking no more than twenty paces to cross, reaching over a gently flowing stream. From one end of the bridge stretched a forest path, populated by deciduous trees slowly losing their spring bloom, while on the other barren hills lined a dirt road; the route toward the city. Between these roads stood a girl, her hands set on the bridge’s small wall as she observed the life that surrounded the stream. Blaze the cat, age fourteen; the ruler of the Sol Dimension and guardian of the Sol Emeralds, was awaiting a friend. The sky above her was grey and the air humid; she could feel a storm was threatening to break. If her friend did not hurry she would soon find herself soaked to the bone; being without an umbrella or jacket.

The feline was trying to ignore the inevitable storm, fixating upon a small troupe of magpies to pass the time. A trio, they fluttered and squawked as they played and bathed in the river. They weren’t the most enticing of creatures but coming from a land overrun by seagulls Blaze could at least find some distraction in the differences. From their more cordial camaraderie with one another to the way the tips of their wings gleamed dark blue as they caught the light. With the sky so thickly clouded this glint wasn't shining often, and even when it did the sight was faint, but it was pretty to behold. Their actions were far more innocent than that of the thieving gulls she knew, there was something bizarrely endearing about how they’d dip into the stream only to spook themselves and tumble back out. Birds like this weren’t-

A droplet rolled down her outer ear, she turned her attention skyward as the heavens opened; a cacophonous pitter-patter had begun. Fur and clothes beginning to soak Blaze closed her eyes, fists clenching, and from her back heat quickly unfurled; turning the drizzle both on and around her to steam. As her palms opened the heat took a more tangible form; a thin layer of bright yellow flames that coated her shoulders and shaped to hood her head, acting much like the upper section of a raincoat. Over the crackle of flame and the rumble of rain she heard the sound of wings, looking back to the stream she found the magpies had fled; be it from the storm or her ignition. Her distraction gone the princess turned toward the city path, still awaiting her friend; the young rabbit Cream. Minutes passed and soon, with nothing else to do, the cat found herself reflecting on the week’s events.

The life of a royal was one intrinsically shackled to duty, with most of her friends living beyond her kingdom seeing them was more up to chance than choice. There had been occasions when she had justified a visit, rare days planned weeks to months in advance, but those dates would often be pushed back or cancelled as events transpired in her own world. Visits like the past week were comparably uncommon, occasions when Eggman’s efforts would jeopardise not only this world but also her own. While it was fortunate these great battles were so rare the princess had grown to relish in the aftermath, the day or two she’d get to spend relaxing alongside her true peers.

She was set to go home yesterday, to linger long after a battle was abnormal, but Vanilla had promoted her to stay. Little Cream had grown to miss the feline and so they’d have a final tea party before her departure. It was to be a proper goodbye, for a few weeks least, and had been set up to surprise the young rabbit. Blaze had spent the prior night with Amy, enduring yet enjoying the endless talk of the hedgehog’s blue soul mate, and thus Cream likely thought she’d slipped away. She would, of course, return to the Sol dimension tonight… but she was happy to indulge this venture, even if it made her a touch tardy.

Due to the impromptu nature of this plan Vanilla hadn’t had a spare key to their small hilltop abode, ergo Blaze couldn’t enter. The plan was that the pair of rabbits would go grocery shopping, collecting sweets and good for the aforementioned tea party, only to encounter Blaze during their return trip. Thus the princess had decided to wait on the bridge, thinking it would be a picturesque location to reunite, but in hindsight that’d been a foolish decision. She surely could have waited on the doorstep and still surprised the child, that way she’d have been sheltered too. When it came down to it she’d stopped on this bridge for no better reason than she felt like stopping… but what about it had prompted her to stop? It was a pretty location but not especially significant, maybe it wasn’t the bridge itself that had prompted her?

Her brow creased, beneath the humidity of the storm and the crackling flames throughout her fur she could feel something; like a weight or pressure easing her to stay. It almost felt like armour, like a further layer of disassociation was shieling her from the rain. To accompany it a bizarre blankness kept creeping into her mind and with every second it seemed to grow more potent. She could only compare it to the feeling of suddenly forgetting, walking into a room only to forget why you entered or repeating a phrase to yourself only for it to slip from your mind. It was strange and, alike the pressure, she couldn’t recall feeling it prior. It wasn’t regret for stationing herself here nor was it the tug of responsibility having left her world for an extra day. What was this feeling, both physical and mental? There was a twang of… loneliness to it? But this wasn’t loneliness in foresight, nor was it loneliness over her current position. Reaching into her overcoat she drew forth one of the seven sol emeralds, she looked to it for any reaction to this phenomena. But there was nothing, rain struck the stone and fizzled instantaneously. It offered no answers, wholly unreactive and stable it appeared to be unaffected. What was hap-

“Miss Blaze! I thought you’d already left!” A small, soaking, orange-accented rabbit had torpedoed herself into Blaze’s gut; catching the usually perceptive warrior completely off-guard. As a pair of small hands reached to lock behind her Blaze smothered her flames, getting soaked but saving the child from being burnt.

Having returned to her senses Blaze pet Cream’s back with her free hand, stowing the sol emerald as she did so; “I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye, it’s good to see you again Cream.”

Looking up from the child’s dampened ears Blaze could see Vanilla quickly approaching… she looked thoroughly bedraggled, soaked to the bone, and across her arms hung no fewer than six hefty shopping bags. “Young Blaze I’m so sorry, this yesterday’s forecast promised clear skies! I would have endeavoured to hide a key for you at the very least, we started running the moment the drizzle started.” The elder rabbit looked down to the rim of her dress, finding it muddied, she was panting. “It appears the weather has caught us all off guard, we must have run twenty minutes journey in five. We should keep hurrying ba…”

Blaze found herself zoning out completely, Vanilla’s voice was lost to the white noise of the rain; both were being muffled by a bizarre ringing noise. Her mind kept drifting to this strange feeling, its lonesome underpinning blocked by a guise phantom forgetfulness. What on-

A tugging at her wrist returned Blaze to the present; looking down to Cream she found concern had overtaken the rabbit’s face. “Miss Blaze, are you okay?”

Shaking her head the princess attempted to uproot the feeling; “Yes Cream I’m fine, don’t worry.” Looking up to Vanilla she extended her free arm; “I’ll carry as much as I can, we should hurry home before you two get too wet.”

Vanilla looked puzzled for a moment but appeared to politely shake it off, the bags now split evenly between them they set off toward the forest path but as Blaze neared the bridge’s edge she stumbled and very almost fell. Glancing back it appeared she’d fallen over nothing, the bridge lay empty behind her save for a single magpie; no longer in the river, it had perched itself upon the parapet and looking toward her. Pulling herself from its vision Blaze managed to leave the bridge and as she did the sensation she felt, both the phantom grasp and forgetfulness, completely vanished. She didn’t have time to consider this though, the rabbit pair was already pulling ahead, bags in hand Blaze rushed forward and quickly caught up to the pair.

They were less than five minutes far from the house and, while the treeline provided some cover, Blaze didn’t want to risk melting the rabbit family’s groceries, thus she was subject to the rain just as they were. When the three of them burst into the small abode it was a matter of setting down the groceries before drying themselves, making for the house's cramped bathroom. Blaze cast a layer of heat over her body and utilised an offered a towel to quicken the process (once again refusing to create flames lest she damage their property).

Curiously, no matter how she dried she kept finding damp spots on her face. Again she felt a tugging at her wrist, looking down she saw young Cream staring up at her but there was a look in the young girl’s eyes quite new to Blaze. “Miss Blaze are you sure you’re alright?”

“Y-Yes Cream, w-why-

Blaze froze. Was she stuttering? Why did her breath keep hitching? What was this wetness on her cheeks? What was happening?

Feeling a hand on her shoulder Blaze turned only to find Vanilla looking down to her, a surprising degree of motherly sternness to her face. “Dear, you’ve got more than enough on your shoulders, if something’s wrong I’m more than willing to listen. I doubt I’ll be much use if it’s a royal matter but I’ll do everything I can to help.”

Touching her head Blaze found that her ears had folded back, her grasp was quaking; sudden shivers were wracking her body despite coldness having faded. Those strange feelings had vanished; she couldn’t even describe them now, so why was she shaking? Why was she crying? Why was her body sad while her mind was plain, what was happening? Was this some kind of attack? Terror was setting in but, tracing her hand over her mouth, she found her lips locked in a state of dejection; opening her mouth she could force it away for a moment but it quickly returned. “I-I… I don’t know wh-what’s wrong.” Her voice, despite the panic she was feeling, was still slurred and punctuated by sadness; what was this disconnect?! “I-I-I don’t know… wh-what’s happening. I-I don’t… I don’t feel s-s-sad? Why am I-

Her senses and body so inversely overwhelmed a crack of thunder sent her uncharacteristically reeling, stumbling back into the arms of the elder rabbit. Almost immediately she felt the mother’s grift shift, now gently hugging the feline, “It’s alright dear, it’s alright; it’s just a little thunder. Let it all out, I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Before she could respond the younger rabbit was hugging her front, head buried in the princes’ gut. “Whatever it is I’ll do my best to help!”

While their concern was touching it only made Blaze all the more afraid, she had no answer; no matter how much she wanted to tell them what was wrong she couldn’t. How could they believe that? They wouldn’t, there was no way they could. A sob broke past her lips, she wrapped her arms around the young rabbit; lost, afraid and so very confused. What was this feeling, what could have caused it?

---

A swirling blue aether; devoid of all sounds and sights, lacking up and down, with no ground to stand on and no sky above. For Silver, these journeys, drifting through time, were becoming all too common. He was thoroughly devoted to his cause, apocalyptic forces consistently ravaged his time but he’d keep beating them back no matter what, however the frequency of his visits was worrying. It’d take weeks if not a month to figure out a calamity only a couple weeks after the last he’d fixed, there were two hundred years between these events and his own time. He didn’t expect to live two hundred years, at some point the gaps between crises had to expand or his effort would be worthless.

Well, they didn’t have to. Regardless of whether, they did he’d keep fighting but it’d just be nice to have a maybe one peaceful day. Even just an evening, stargazing or wandering beneath the moon, it really would be nice to spend one day free from his worries. While he enjoyed spending time with Sonic and his friends, it wasn’t like he knew them all too well. He came, did his job, and left again; wanting to check if his past mission had fixed things. Perhaps this time he’d take even just a little break…

Still slipping through time, Silver thoughts were interrupted by… something? Not something physical, search as he might in this endless abyss his own body was the only object, but almost an increase in temperature? The warmth wasn’t uncomfortable but it certainly perplexed him, despite how often he’d time travelled he’d never felt anything like this. It didn’t feel like it came from any one place either, it was just everywhere. This oddity was fine though, he wasn’t in pain and it didn’t feel like it was getting hotter, more frightening was the strange feeling he was getting. He was alone here... that thought seemed stood out to him in such a strange way, like he hadn’t been on a prior journey. It was like something was slipping out of his brain, his mind felt muddled in a way he hadn-

Silver tumbled free of the blue void, the return of gravity (coupled with his forgetful stupor) causing him to stumble upon landing; his right palm met with soaked stonework. Standing up straight and turning to watch the portal fade, he found himself on a stone bridge. To his left was a forest and to his right civilisation; the site of future destruction. Tomorrow morning, before anyone who could react would react, the world would be reduced to rubble. Well, it would’ve ended, it wasn’t going to anymo-

Once again Silver had his train of thought interrupted, stumbling back against a parapet. Lightning had cut across the sky, accompanied by the rumbling of thunder. While he understood it the phenomena undeniably freaked him out, when such noises happened in the future more often than not it meant an enemy was upon him. Catching his breath he pulled himself up onto the bridge wall, taking a damp seat. His quills were slowly drooping into his vision, the sheets of rain soaking him to the core, it was a shame that nice heat had vanished but at least that weird forgetfulness had stopped. Pushing back his quills, the grey hedgehog took in his surroundings.

Immediately his eyes were drawn to an oddity, he’d thought himself alone on the bridge but that wasn’t quite the case. Opposite him stood a bird, preening its feathers preening its feathers and clearly enjoying the shower. Thinking about it, when was the last time he’d been in the rain? If it weren’t for the thunder he’d probably have loved it, well that and the oncoming apocalypse. As it was though it was nice, he supposed he could take a short breather before rushing off to prepare. Wiping more water from of his eyes, pushing his quills up further only for them to tumble down again, he spoke to the bird; “Bet you get this every other week huh? I’m not used to it yet, still seems pretty great even if it’s a little cold.”

The bird gave him one look before turning around, spreading its wings and flying off; not so much as waving good-bye. He figured they probably just had somewhere to be. Still taking in the heavy rainfall, finding his eyes drawn toward the forest path, no matter how he tried Silver couldn’t seem to keep his eyes clear. Even holding his hand straight to his brow, forcing his quills to flop backwards, they’d refill in a matter of moments… and his eyelids felt so weirdly warm, almost raw? He’d rub his eyes clean but they would begin to refill the moment he stopped. He blinked as a realisation hit him, lowering his hand to his mouth he licked his glove. Salty, he was crying?

Immediately the hand blocking the rain dropped, he ran his forearm across his eyes in an attempt to halt his tears only to find himself shaking. “Wh-Why a-a-am I…” He caught himself sniffling and heard his voice waver. With a flourish of his left hand a barrier was cast around him, blocking out the rain. “I don’t cry, I d-don’t cry, I’m tougher than this! Why am I even…I-I don’t feel sad, wh-why am I…” It was true, he’d been happy until he��d noticed he was crying; he’d heard of crying out of happiness but never done it before. Could this be that? No way; wasn’t that happy, he was still a little freaked out by the lightning.

He lowered his arm, the teal-tinged world continued to blur. “What’s wrong with me? I can’t be like this, people are counting on me.” He’d dropped from the parapet and resumed drying his eyes when a sudden movement caught his attention; something had dropped from the trees beneath the far side of the bridge. Walking across, rather he found himself stumbling, Silver looked out over the edge and saw there was a river flowing beneath, a similar bird (or perhaps the same bird from before) was drinking from the stream.

As he leaned over the edge of the bridge he was finding it strangely difficult to pull back, his breaths were hitching more and more. Touching his face he found his lips frowning and his brows knit tightly. His nose was running too, what was this; he’d never cried like this, not when he’d starved and not when he’d been injured. Those tears were loud and brief, impossible to hide, but these ones seemed endless yet gentle… maybe that was because he didn’t know why his body was doing this. It was a different kind of crying, nothing was wrong; nothing he could think of at least. Wait, had he forgotten something? It felt like he did earlier but now… nothing, he thought he’d forgotten something but the feeling of forgetfulness was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, just confusion?

The grey hedgehog managed to pry himself from the wall, he found himself dragging his forearm across his eyes yet again; rubbing drenched fur on them did little good but, even with no one to witness, hiding his eyes brought him some comfort. He couldn’t just hang around in the rain, he had a job to do; he had to prepare. He didn’t get far, the ground beneath turning from stone to dirt, something snapped beneath his foot. Lowering his arm to his side he found himself on the forest path, not the track toward civilisation. He rubbed his forehead, trying to shake off this confusion, and turned around. As he stumbled toward society, no matter how wished they’d stop, the tears kept falling.

His wish wouldn’t be granted until late that evening; when a girl he didn’t even know left this world for her own. The happenstance of rain was all it took to keep the star-crossed lovers from reuniting.

[darkspellmaster]

Sailor Senshi and Shitennou Romance Essay -Introduction

(Warning. Due to the way Tumblr Mobile is working for me there may not be a read more on the mobile version of this essay. I do have one up on the computer version of the program, but apologies for anyone reading this on mobile. I’m still trying to work out how to make this work better for the readers there. I may have to eventually set it up where there’s a mobile only blog…but until then…yeah…still working this all out. )

For those who don’t care about the above, skip down to the info below the picture.

Where to even being with this. I suppose I should start as to why I would even do an analysis on the romances here, given that they were very limited in scope of the story proper. We only really got a quasi-detailed account of Kunzite and Venus from Sailor V and the main Sailor Moon Manga. Yet, it seemed to be that, even despite not being able to write about the romance in her work, (due to either her own issues with writing long works. (Something that Ms. Takauchi has mentioned in interviews before), or the story proper not being able to facilitate a longer narrative for the romantic structure (it’s a Tokusatsu after all)), Ms. Takauchi still seemed to want to have those romances in some way. If you look at her artwork and some later stories –such as Casablanca Lilies and the short story about Sailor Moon’s other child (which is non cannon) –we know that she does have focus on the girls love lives.

For me the most interesting aspect about these possible romances is the way it connects to the older stories from not only the west with Selena and Endymion, which formed the bases of the romance with Usagi and Mamoru, but also the Eastern tales of lost romance. Specifically the story of Tanabata Festival, Princess Kaguya, and possibly the story of the crane wife (usually it has a story with a celestial being falling in love with a mortal man). The reason I’m equating them to these stories is how they end up being both sad yet romantic in some ways and in some cases there are some aspects of a happy ending, within the context of how the Japanese see a happy ending.

For the story of the Crane wife, normally it tells of how a young farmer discovered a woman bathing in a pond and he fell in love with her. He discovered she had a cloak that was magic and took it with him hiding it from her after the woman has fallen in love with him. Eventually after a while of them being married and her having a child with the man, the woman becomes more and more depressed over something. Then one day, either she or her child discovers the robes and changes back leaving the man and the child. Or the man never knew she was a crane or a celestial being and he discovers this one night after coming in on her wearing her robes, and because of this she has to leave his side and return home.

On the flip side is the Princess Kaguya story where she came to earth to learn to be a human, but didn’t want to fall in love, and eventually returns to the moon against her will mostly because the moon goddess missed her.

Finally, you have the story of Tanabata, which is based on an older Chinese story of Qixi. The story goes something like this, there’s a princess named Orihime who is the daughter of the Sky King Tentei and she used to weave clothing on the banks of the Milky way river for her father. So the princess was sad that she could not fall in love because she was always making her dad clothing. Her dad, feeling sorry for her, decided to invite a boy that he knew named Hikoboshi, who was a cowherd that worked on the other side of the river. The two met and fell in love and married. However because they got married and were together all the time both neglected their work, so Tentei ended up splitting them apart. This eventually led to Orihime begging her father to allow them to be together. Tentei was so moved by his daughter’s tears and words that he agreed to let them meet once a year on the 7th day of the 7th month as long as she finished her weaving. As such, the two were going to meet but there was no bridge, but a bunch of magpies created one for her so that she could cross over to him and be happy for a while.  

Oddly enough, the story was used in a Chibiusa Picture Diary story, but that’s not where the importance lies.

So how do these three stories fit into the idea of the knights and the Scouts and their romance and why? It’s not uncommon in Japan to rely upon older stories for crafting new stories for Shojo writers. Typically, it can come from the west or the east, but a lot of ideas from the idea of true love tends to derive from older stories and legends that have been passed on, much like western fairytales, and in the case of Sailor moon, a lot of the idea of legends are pulled into a new form. As I mentioned the three stories are an influence in the work, and there are strong hints through Usagi and Mamoru’s romance about their relationship hinting at these three works, along with the Selena story.

You have the idea of the Prince and Princess being from worlds apart, which connect to the legends surrounding the Crane Wife, and partly the tale of Kaguya. More frequently, you have the fact that the two end up with each other for a while, but the celestial being is normally not supposed to be with a mortal human. The Tanabata legend is deeply invested in the story as the two lovers that we see are not only from different places, thus split by the space between them, but their world is pulled apart by the actions of others. In the case of Orihimi and Hikoboshi (Vega and Altair), we see her father break them up via the river that is the Milky way, in the case of Serenity and Endymion, it’s the actions of Queen Beryl that split them apart.

This can also correlate to the other girls in various ways, since we see that they too met with the Knights and fell in love, as per Venus explaining. Which brings up the idea that Ms. Takauchi probably wasn’t just thinking about how the tale pertained to just one person, but how it could affect others who met too and fell in love. This also I have to say brings us to the idea of the Tokusatsu aspect of the series. Most notable is that the Sentai at the time before Sailor moon was created did have an additional soap opera like subplot, and typically revolved around the main lead and either a girl fiend that they had to deal with, or another member of the team was the love interest. I get the feeling that Ms. Takuchi was wondering what would happen if all the members of a team were in love and got to deal with relationships as typically the other members of the five man band Sentai (Ranger) team were only there for support.

If we go on the idea that the groups were to be reunited as one unit either as a heart-breaking situation where they were parted later on. Or as a possible happy ending where they stood as a group against the darkness from evil then one could assume that this could be very much like the Tanabata legend, with the idea that each of the girls would go on a journey to connect with their own Hikoboshi. This idea could also be connected to the aspect of a team up deal going on, which happened in Sentai (not as much as now but it did happen in the 90s) where either a former team would pair up with the new group, or some of the villains would side with the heroes to deal with a bigger bad. Throw in there the fact that dramatic stories typically were part of the takarazuka review, something which Ms. Takuchi drew inspiration from and you have an easy conception of how that could lead to her wanting to explore not only the relationships of her main lovers. But, also how their helpers could benefit or grow from a relationship with someone who either was different from them, or similar in ways to understand their situations. And in the case of the Star crossed Lovers, how they could be ripped apart in a way that could affect them enough to try to save their former allies/friends/lovers.

When the first Art book came out for Sailor Moon, fans were a bit surprised, or not surprised, to discover the image of Sailor Moon with Tuxedo Mask, and alongside them the Senshi with the Shitennou, as former guards of the Prince. And what’s really interesting is how she chose to set them up on the page and the way they look, particularly their body language.

So to start out with you have the main couple of Usagi and Mamoru. Now this one could be explained very easily but there’s more to the positions. Every artist finds a position that they like and nothing is done without taking into account how the image is going to look and turn out.

So you have Usagi (or the Princess) sleeping on the moon, curled up almost childlike in her innocence, holding a crown as Mamoru leans over, hand on the side of the moon, pushing her hair back and leaning in for a kiss.

The thing that stands out for me in this moment is the fact that she is resting like a kid in a bed, unaware of him leaning in for the kiss, indicating that she’s very innocent and pure in all this, and the kiss itself is going for her cheek rather than her lips, showing a very chaste moment. And there’s a reason for that, given that the readers of this series were mostly younger girls the idea of a more innocent love would appeal to them, and that links back to the story of Orihime and Hikoboshi and how their love was seen as far more innocent in nature.

Also her sleeping beauty like pose would imply that this is dream like in nature, and very much a fairy tale, so you have that going on there as well. I really don’t want to get into the whole history of Sleeping beauty here because there’s a LOT to dissect with that, but the over all tone of the moment is something pure that is happening between them.

We also see her holding her crown, which she never wears in the series proper, but it’s to indicate that she is seen as a royal and that at the moment she isn’t being the princess here, and it’s a moment of respite that she’s taking. Mamoru stealing a kiss is showing that he’s invested in her and that he finds her resting like this cute and wants to show her affection for it.

From the top we have Venus and Kunzite, and automatically you can see his hands are around her waist holding her close. This is typically seen as a reverse hug and is used to show affection and trust between two partners. It’s interesting that they have the most intimate, or second most intimate position in the group of guardians. Venus for her part is holding a staff, and has her finger to her lips, indicating quiet or a secret. Honestly to me it could play as her saying “Shhh, the princess is asleep” or the idea that the romances are a secret thing, which ties in with part of the Chinese version of the Tanabata myth where the marriage between the two lovers was done outside of the view of the gods.

The fact that she’s leaning into him, and he’s resting his chin, lower cheek area, on her head, shows they have a comfort with one another. He’s allowing her to lean on him for support and she feels close enough to him to let him rest his head on her, showing a warmth and affection between them that probably is very strong and understanding. And it makes sense given their roles as leaders as well as their titles. Venus being the guardian of love and beauty (as well as light) and Kunzite being the Knight of Purity (Virtue) and Affection, both having an understanding of deeper love and devotion, and loyalty.

I should note here that his hands are wrapped around her waist and interlocking showing that he has not only a protective grip on her, but one that is keeping her close to him, showing a lot more passion and ardor for her then we may see in his face. He’s enjoying having her locked up next to him, and his face shows this. 

The way that they’re set up at least tells me in this case that their relationship was certainly more of a public display of attraction and affection, given that Kunzite was shown to have teased her several times in the manga and the implication there was he was attracted to what he saw in her. Clearly Venus could see both of his sides, and the idea that he was very much a noble prince like figure himself must have caught her attention.

On the other hand, you have the next one down being Mars and Jadeite, and their position. While Venus and Kunzite seem way more casual, Jadeite and Mars instead have a very regal demeanor to them. Both are smiling forward with Mars leaning back onto Jadeite’s arm, which is supporting her. Glancing to the right side of the picture his hand is cupping hers, and this is something that is kind of different in what it means in body language.

This gesture is more or less a passive hand hold, with a bit of a “my lady” gesture thrown in there. What does that mean? Well Passive hand holds usually indicate that neither one of you is clingy in the relationship, meaning that there’s a great deal of trust there and a peace between the partners that neither feels that they have to be aggressive or dominate in a traditional way. It also indicates that there’s ground rules that were set and boundaries that are in play between them. It’s also seen as a tender sweet sort of hand hold, indicating that there’s a closeness, but one that doesn’t have to be showy in nature or inappropriate affection.

Her smile is soft and delicate, not trying to be outwardly showy, while his is calm and kind and you can see it in his eyes that he’s glad to be with her at the moment and happy about it. Again, as I said in my commentary about him, Jadeite is probably the most friendly of the group, and his smile shows a warmth to his face, clear that he’s devoted to the woman that he has next to him. 

And that fits right into Jadeite and Mars in that both are calm people who prefer a peaceful situation, and probably neither feels that they have to be very vocal in their feelings as both are spiritual on different levels and, given Mars role in the scouts, it’s not surprising that she wouldn’t show her feelings loudly. What’s also interesting is that that the My Lady hand hold is one of the most regale, and usually used for wedding pictures and the like. Typically it shows that a relationship is vital, firm and has equal protectiveness from both partners.

Mars hand is cupped in his in a way that shows it looking smaller, giving her a dainty like figure, but at the same time it’s in a loose fist so it shows a strength there as well, and Jadeite’s hand is curved around it, showing that he’s supporting that strength. This hand hold is seen as showing a very healthy relationship, a bond of respect, and that the romance is founded on trust and adoration. It’s interesting to note that Jadeite is supporting her on that arm as well, showing an almost half hug, and indicating that he’s got her back if she ever needs the help on something.

On the opposite hand you have what one might call a palm facing down hold. It’s an interesting way of putting their hands here and telling of a lot of things. For one thing typically it’s the guy who’s holding the girl’s hand with the palm down, but in the case, it’s Mars that has the more dominate stance here, showing that she’s protective of him, and because their hands are lightly touching this means that she’s also gentle in her actions. It also shows she’s the one that has the more dominant role in the relationship, which makes sense seeing as her powers of fire probably trump his ice powers. It also shows a bit of independence between them and that both have a strong trust in one another that they don’t always have to be joined at the hip. Given both their personalities, it’s not a surprise that Mars and Jadeite would be the least likely to outwardly show their love in large displays, but rather softer quieter moments.

From the regal to the more flirty in nature, looking down from Mars and Jadeite you see Jupiter and Nephrite. And this is a couple that probably has more moments of displays of affection then the others outright, even Kunzite and Venus. You might be wondering why I would think that, well their stance says a lot about their relationship.

To start with you have Jupiter, like Venus, leaning into Nephrite, and pressing against his chest, meaning that she feels close enough to him to want to be near him and probably they have a very warm affection towards one another. His head is tilted down into her ponytail, and normally when someone does that they’re  indicating that they’re showing a nurturing and intimate gesture that shows affection and protectiveness, and a close emotional bond that indicates the person is there for the other.  Jupiter for her part is winking and has his hand up to her lips kissing it. It’s all very intimate in nature and for a reason. Both characters are comforters in their own way as Jupiter is the most sensitive and understanding when it comes to emotions of others around her, and Nephrite is the Knight of Comfort.

Looking at them it’s an interesting set up here. You have Nephrite in a pose that says he’s trusting and comforting Jupiter, letting her lean on him, and knowing that he’s here to help her out. At the same time her leaning against him tells him that she cares deeply about him and enjoys being with him. She’s even winking, showing that they’re keeping something secret together and it’s almost like she’s teasing the reader in some way to learn more about their relationship.

The hands are an interesting story too. He’s brought her hand up to her heart and is holding it there. This could mean a lot of things, but the most likely is that it’s showing a sign of protection, strong bonds, and a deep attraction, indicating that they both are connected by their heart and desire to use that part of themselves to be with those that they love and care about. There is a huge amount of intimacy with that motion, and showing that there’s a lot of affection that drives these two as a couple. The fact that she trusts him enough to be that close to her body in a physical way indicates via body language that there’s a deeper connection between the two. It’s also seen as a romantic gesture.

On the other hand you have Jupiter kissing his fingers while he’s passively holding up his hand to her in an upward movement which means that to Nephrite he has a lot of trust in her and is willing to be a more passive gentle person around her, while she’s more playful. Kissing a hand shows there’s admiration, tenderness, and a desire for love. There’s also trust on the part of the giver, and a sense of respect, adoration, kindness, and in this case a playful flirty-ness that shows that the two are more likely to show displays of affection frequently and willingly.

When you look to the right of Nephrite and Jupiter you come across the couple that I think has the most interesting relationship, Mercury and Zoisite. It’s a very different stance then the other couples. Whereas Jupiter and Venus are leaning on their partners, and Mars is on Jadeite’s arm. Mercury while leaning on one side of Zoisite, is partly being hugged by him with one arm, at the same time he has his hand loosely around her wrist as she holds it up, pulling him closer to her, and on their opposite hands, which are straight out, his hand is firmly in the other in an almost princely like pose.

What stands out for me in this case, after looking up about the hand holding positions, is how actually intimate and passionate these gestures actually are for these two characters. With their faces it’s an interesting juxtaposition. Mercury doesn’t smile that brightly often, and when she does you know she’s happy about something. Whereas Zoisite hardly ever seems to smile, and the fact that his eyes show a smile to them while he’s holding her shows that he’s happy in this moment. Not to mention that she’s tipping her head towards him indicating that she feels comfortable and safe with him and trusting too boot.

Their hands are also interesting, the first pair on the left is a sort of wrist hold. Zoisite has his arm over her in a protective way, and is lightly holding her wrist. This normally indicates a passionate and more intimate relationship, one where the partners need to be around one another. It also shows an urgency and trust between them in a different way. With both being a bit distant when it comes to showing off emotions in high ways, and reliant on their smarts, is it any wonder that their bodies show more about their feelings then what they say. The way Zoisite has his hand over her shows he’s protective of her, and needs to keep her close to him.

To the right her hand is being grasped firmly in his, in a “My lady” like firm hold. Usually this indicates some possessiveness, but also a healthy one based on trust and honor, as well as respect and admiration. It also shows a desire to stay with the person, given the firmness of the grip and the fact that he has his hand over hers also indicates he’s very protective of her and is serious about his feelings towards her.

Mercury’s smile is all you need to see she’s happy and that she enjoys being with him.

I’ll end the intro here, but my plan is to go deeper into these four relationships if I can and think about how they worked and could work in the modern age.

[badriano11]

The myth of the original star-crossed lovers

In the celestial court of the Jade Emperor lived seven princesses. Each had their chosen place in court, but the youngest princess had a special skill. She could pluck clouds from the sky and spin them into the softest robes. Her work was so precise, not even the most expert eye could find a seam.

But her craft was the same day after day, and she longed for new inspiration. Finally, the Queen Mother granted the weaver permission to visit Earth. The other princesses would accompany her to protect their sister from earthly dangers. Dressed in special robes that allowed them to fly between Heaven and Earth, the sisters soared down from the sky. The weaver was in awe of the rolling hills and rivers, and the sisters decided to swim in one of the glittering streams. As the weaver floated, she dreamt about staying forever.

Meanwhile, a lone cowherd approached the riverbank. He came here often to sweep his parent’s grave and speak with his only companion— a stoic bull who listened patiently to the cowherd’s sorrows. But upon seeing the weaver’s beauty, the cowherd forgot his routine. While he longed to introduce himself, his lonely lifestyle had made him timid. Thankfully, the bull saw his friend's plight and offered some advice. He told the cowherd of the swimmer’s celestial origins and of her dream to stay on Earth; but also that she could only remain if she lost her ticket back to Heaven.

As the cowherd approached, the princesses flew away in fear— leaving their dreaming sister behind. While keeping her magic robes hidden, the cowherd offered his own garment as a substitute. And after gaining her trust, the pair began exploring the countryside. She was struck by his caring nature, and he learned to see the world’s wonder through her eyes. Before long, the two had fallen deeply in love.

The weaver and the cowherd built a prosperous life. Their farm flourished, and the weaver taught her skills to local villagers. As time marched on, the pair was blessed with two healthy children, but their bull was growing old. Before he died, the bull implored the family to keep his hide and use its magic at their time of need. While the husband grieved for his friend, the weaver’s mind turned to her other family. Dusting off her magical robe, she decided to pay a visit to the heavens. But when the weaver swept into her old home, no one seemed surprised to see her. With a start, she realized that barely any time had passed— for a year on Earth was merely a day in Heaven.

When her family learned of her new life, they were enraged. How dare she waste her love on a human? The weaver tried to escape back to Earth, but the Queen Mother plucked a golden hairpin from her head and tore through the sky. A great gulf opened, forming a river of stars between Heaven and Earth. Below, the cowherd trembled, but he also remembered the bull’s final words. Hastily placing each child in a basket, he draped the bull’s pelt over his back and hurtled upwards.

Above the clouds, each lover attempted to wade through the surging stars. But no matter how hard they struggled, the gulf between them only grew wider. Day after day, the Queen Mother watched without pity. Years passed, and the weaver and the cowherd had no one, except the passing magpies to cheer them on. Finally, their love moved the Queen Mother’s heart. While she couldn’t forgive her granddaughter entirely, the Queen Mother would allow the weaver to meet her earthly family once a year.

And so, in late summer, the magpies form a bridge across the Milky Way, reuniting the weaver and the cowherd. At this time of year, millions of people in East and Southeast Asian countries tell similar tales of these star-crossed lovers, celebrating their annual reunion.