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moonsheenMe thinks (because finals are coming up, because I am a masochist, and because it is that time of year) I'll be climbing aboard that holiday drabble meme. You know the drill. Gimme a concept/characters/pairings/whatnot and I'll see what I can do. Series are (in no particular order and prolly missing a few) Naruto, X, Yami no Matsuei, Puchi Puri Yuushi (for the obscure), Shamanic Princess (for the more obscure?), Saint Seiya, and, ah, hell. Toss in Fruits Basket. I'll give that a shot. Will try to get these done in a timely manner this time around, too.
Well. Here goes.
Well. Here goes.
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...I'm first! I'm first!
Date: 2003-12-13 06:38 pm (UTC)(I think it's a good thing I'm staying anonymous, don't you? ^_~)
(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-13 06:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-13 07:11 pm (UTC)-Mari
(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-13 07:34 pm (UTC)I'm trying to think of something I could write for you (Alex). >.> Any ideas?
Re: ...I'm first! I'm first!
Date: 2003-12-13 08:12 pm (UTC)Naruto. Naruto was there. Sasuke was aware of it, but he couldn’t see, could barely move. His entire body felt like one raw wound, bandages peeled off and stinging against the cool, filthy air. Naruto. He knew he was there. Knew it knew him him of course he knew him. That moron. But. But his mind didn’t seem to want to make sense anymore. He knew the weight that fell across him, a moment later. Something stank of blood and he could feel something soft against his lips, and he knew it was his hair, it smelled like ashes, and more filth. It tasted like Naruto, still moving, still alive--naturally. Didn’t know when to fucking stay down-- Sasuke cracked his eyes open enough to see, and he met the bloody eyes of a beast that was Naruto, too.
"…Huh," He heard his own voice whisper. Crackling like paper thrown over an open flame, eaten away at the edges, crumbling into soot. He knew soot already. It was only all around him. "…I wanted to fight you."
"Heh," White teeth flashed near his throat, and Sasuke thought that would be it. They looked shiny and pale and wet. "You know…Me too."
Sasuke somehow found the strength to wrap his hand in Naruto’s hair.
"Shut up and kill me," he hissed, the words seemed to break and splinter in his mouth.
Naruto laughed, blood and spit on blistered lips. "No thanks," he croaked. "You’re an idiot."
And Sasuke knew he was right.
Re: ...I'm first! I'm first!
Date: 2003-12-13 08:41 pm (UTC)*says it* And this is supposed to be Christmas? XD
(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-13 08:45 pm (UTC)I trust you know what I'm referring to ♥
Re: ...I'm first! I'm first!
Date: 2003-12-13 08:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-13 09:44 pm (UTC)Aged
Date: 2003-12-13 09:52 pm (UTC)No matter how many times Beth came, it always got her, how everything in the world of the spirits had to feel so /old/. A layer of dust seemed ready to rub off of every wall, and Beth had lost count of the number of times Berubel had gotten caught in cobwebs in just that first day there. The light in the hall was a low yellow, like aged parchment—and there was plenty of that lying around, too.
"This way, Miss Beth," said the maid with the eternal cheer of one well versed in all of dark bends and shadows they walked through. "Miss Kokoru will be very happy to see you."
"Thanks." Beth said absently, eyeing a empty picture frame hanging on the wall. "Who’s that supposed to be?"
The woman paused, her brow furrowed. She was old too, with many creases on her face. "That?" She brightened. "Why, that’s His Majesty!"
"Oh."
Beth decided to shut up, after that.
Kokoru’s room was the one place that seemed at least a little bit new, and that was only because it looked lived in with books open on the desk, and a sketchbook closed on the cushions of the chair. Kokoru herself stood by the window, looking younger than anything else but older in a way that was still new to both of them. She turned and smiled, her hands folded in front and her smile dainty and genuine. Beth watched her from over maid's arm, who held the door open and bowed.
"Miss Beth is here."
Kokoru’s eyes lit up. "I see," she said. "Thank you, Marie." Beth felt awkward stumbling in. More so when the Marie the Maid took her leave, and closed the door behind her. Four walls and a ceiling—Beth always had to get used to that.
"Hullo," Beth mumbled, looking down. The other girl’s hands wrapped around hers, a light and airy touch, fingers white as a ghost’s.
"I’m glad you could come," Kokoru breathed, and squeezed.
The bed was easily the most aged thing in the room, with it’s four posts and elaborately carved headboard made of long dead trees. Beth coughed when she lay down on it. The dust was there too—the dust was /everywhere/, and she could see the cobwebs, newly spun up at the corner.
"Would Beth prefer the garden?" Kokoru murmured close to her ear. Beth caught her breath and considered telling her yes, she liked it better when the wood was alive. Instead she rolled over and tucked her head under her chin, letting her drape an arm over her shoulders. The cloth of Kokoru’s night gown was light blue, and well spun--Not at all frayed, like the curtains over her window.
"No," Beth said. She preferred it just like that.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-13 11:47 pm (UTC)wondering if you could do any shikaino, or shikachouji or inochoji if you prefer. anything with team 10?
(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-14 12:52 am (UTC)She sketched it out in the dirt path with a finger, crouched over with the book in her lap. She blew her hair out of her eyes, and double checked a few times. It looked about right—she tilted the book and squinted, glancing from page, to path, to page again.
"Not bad," Lena commented over her shoulder. "The eye is wrong, though."
Tiara jolted. She shook her head, curls bouncing. "No, it isn’t." She’d done it right from the text—and since when was it any of her business, anyway?
But Lena folded her arms, and paced around it, eyes narrowed critically. She nodded once. "Yes it is. It’s lopsided. One end is thinner than the other. I doubt you could summon anything with it. Is this your first time drawing it?"
It was, but Tiara wasn’t going to tell her that. "It looks fine to me," she said. Lena shook her head, and knelt down beside her; not taking the hint, obviously. "What are you doing?"
"It’s more like this," Lena said, and traced a symbol out lightly in the dirt next to Tiara’s. "You see?" Tiara did. She took a good look, and she scoffed.
"That couldn’t summon anything, either. It looks nothing like it’s supposed to—see?" She held out the book, triumphantly. Lena looked at it a moment, and then reached out her hand and pushed back into Tiara’s arms, smiling with that boundless patience the younger girl was beginning to hate.
"I know."
"So how do you expect to--"
"The symbol doesn’t have to be exact. In fact, it rarely is. Every shaman…" She was reciting from something she’d read, Tiara realized. She had to be. "...Draws it differently. It’s how the power recognizes you. It’s the eye that’s important though—it’s the eye of the Throne of Yord, and therefore what calls upon the magic to begin with--so that the summoning might be successful. If that isn’t right then…" She passed her hand over her sketch, wiping it out. "The power won’t come to you. Now do you see?"
It did make sense. A lot, actually. Lena often did, and it was getting annoying. Tiara sighed. "I guess." She looked down at drawing in the book again. "Where did you learn that?"
Lena brought her hand to her mouth, and stifled a giggle. Tiara straightened in indignation—it wasn’t that funny.
"What?"
Lena lowered her hand. "Forgive me, Tiara," she murmured. "It’s something I read."
"I know that," Tiara snapped. She didn't have Lena's patience. "But /where/?"
Lena leaned over and reached, tapping the page in front of her—right under Tiara’s nose. "Here, actually." She told her, her shoulders shaking in quiet, composed amusement. "Fifth paragraph, third line down: ‘The form is not essential in this way…’"
(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-14 02:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-14 03:17 am (UTC)Or Anko/Kotetsu/Izumo antics.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-14 05:54 am (UTC)When a young couple finally purchased the old house on the hill, no one thought twice about it. It was a fixer-upper no question about it, superstition had kept it empty for a very long time, and it was only when someone had fixed up the gate and the cobblestones and had started on the new paint job that people began to realize they'd moved in, and were making themselves quite comfortable. No one saw much of them—the wife came shopping regularly, and was always very polite to the people who greeted her. She was young, practically still a girl. The husband was a scarcer sight, though not a non-entity. He came with her on errands, and those that saw him had very little to say, other than to shake their heads disapprovingly. Most were surprised to find out he worked. Because he sure didn’t look it, they muttered.
The neighborhood children took a liking to the pair. Not surprising, they’d often played around the old house, since it was nice and removed and a rarity in that sense. The fact that they were welcome helped. They liked the young woman best of all--she made them snacks, and drinks, and let them sit on her steps, and sometimes offered them dinner if they were out late. That was when people began to wonder. She seemed very nice, but the stories the children told sounded a little odd, and they started to notice things about her.
She had a lot of visitors. People no one had ever seen around those parts before. Strange people, like a woman in a long shawl, who the grocer saw drifting down the street like phantom when he’d been closing up one evening. Like the pair of young men who’d nearly given the old flower lady on the corner a heart attack, when they’d driven up to her curb on a motorcycle to ask for directions to, naturally, that house on the hill. A great majority of these visitors /were/ young men, enough to raise suspicions—except she didn’t act the type, and seemed very devoted to her husband-of-whatever profession-he-might-be. Rumor had it he was a martial artist. Rumor had it the visitors were family—an old, respectable family maybe--the name was distantly familiar to this person and that, though no one could ever place it. The pair were harmless, but a mystery, and one that persisted long after the spring they’d moved in, into summer, fall, and winter, strange and ever unresolved. They kept seemed happy in their own company, and only the children would actively seek them out.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-14 05:55 am (UTC)"Sohma-san?" she called uncertainly.
"It’s open!"
And she’d found her daughter on the couch, covered in a blanket, fast asleep. She’d found Sohma-san sitting over her in a chair nearby, pressing a towel to her forehead, and looking as a whole, relieved. Her other hand rested on what An thought was some sort of pillow, until it swiveled its head around and glared balefully. It was large ginger cat, with a narrow, mean looking face, An thought—but then she’d never really been a cat person. Not that it really mattered. Her daughter had a fever, Sohma-san told her, not too serious, but the girl had been exhausted and if An felt better not moving her it was all right for her to stay the night there was doctor friend who could be called and it was really, really all right--but the offer was politely refused.
"I understand. You want her home before the weather gets too bad," Sohma-san said, with an understanding nod. It was beginning to snow, after all.
"What about your husband?" An had asked, with a frown. The man was nowhere to be found.
Sohma-san had stroked the cat’s head and smiled.
"He’ll be home soon," she said fondly. "Please, take care."
It was only after An the Librarian had made it home and gotten her daughter to bed that a funny thought occurred to her: No one had ever said anything about her neighbors having a cat.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-14 06:51 am (UTC)Naruto fell off the bed, gagging.
"Ugh," he said, wiping his mouth on the back of his wrist. "Ah, shit that’s…..AGH." He made a face, and nearly wretched right then and there—it was to his credit, and his longer life span, that he didn’t. Instead he crawled back up onto the bed, grimaced, and refused to close his mouth, airing it out as best he could.
It took Sasuke a minute or so before he was aware enough to feel offended. He sat up on Naruto’s stupid wannabe-ninja-print comforter, drew his knees together, and glared as Naruto wheezed, and coughed, and generally looked like he was about to die.
"GRK."
Sasuke was beginning to wish he’d just strangled him when he’d still had his hands at the back of his neck.
"Well," he said. "What the hell did you expect it to taste like?!"
*grumbles* I need a LJ
Date: 2003-12-14 07:02 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-14 09:39 am (UTC)Kawaii! MORE, damnit!
(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-14 11:41 am (UTC)Re: Aged
Date: 2003-12-14 08:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-14 10:44 pm (UTC)“Hinata-sama,” he told her honestly. “They look ridiculous.”
Her hands paused unwinding the latest coil; the bulbs swung and clinked against one another. She gazed at them steadily and the corners her lips turned up.
“…They aren’t lit yet, Neji-niisan,” she answered; pulling off a strip of the tape she’d left on the window sill and reaching. “And I like them. They’ll be pretty, once I can…” She had to jump, to properly pin the section up. “Once it’s done.”
“Hn.”
She settled back onto her heels, and turned her head. Her profile was dark against the white glare from other side of the glass. “You can come in. If you want.”
Neji stayed rooted in her doorway.
“No thank you.”
Her shoulders dropped. “…Allright,” she said, unraveling another coil of lights. She seemed to summon some courage from the distraction, because a moment later she added, as gently as she could, “I’m sorry you had to stay-”
Neji made a tired sound. “Ordered, Hinata-sama.”
“Ordered. I’m sorry you were ordered to stay…?” She ventured. “Father...He--he did have a point, though. About the weather…” She nodded at the window as she stretched again. The lights jingled.
“It wasn’t necessary.”
“He was worried for you.”
“Of course.”
Hinata measured out the next row. “It’s true,” she insisted. “The path gets icy, and it’s hard to see in the snow, isn’t it? Even with the Byakugan, concentrating on all of that at once…It would give you a headache. You could slip. Or…or…” Her voice dwindled away as her cousin drew a loud, tried breath.
“Hinata-sama,” Neji said levelly, giving his head a practiced bow. “With all due /respect/. It sounds more like you’re the one worrying.”
Hinata stopped with both of her hands above her head, leaned against the top of the window, bulbs dangling in her face.
“I am,” she said, sounding puzzled—as though she’d thought that had been the original idea. It didn’t occur to her to flush until a moment after she’d said it. She hung her head, and reached again, trying and failing several times to get that last corner to stay up over the window. “Um.”
“…Hopeless,” Neji breathed, so low she could barely hear him.
“I don’t think so--”
“Not that,” he said. “/This/.” And he breezed into the room with four heavy, purposeful steps, stopping behind her and snatching the lights from her hand. He pressed the wire mercilessly under his thumb. It stayed in place. Blue, red, and yellow bulbs glittering, he stepped back and glared at them. “There.”
“Neji-niisan...”
“They still look ridiculous.”
“…Just wait until they’re lit.” Hinata closed her eyes. “And thank you.”
“/Hn/.” was all Neji had to say about that.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-15 04:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-15 06:45 pm (UTC)--Just get better soon.
Shikamaru thought it looked weird. He told him as much in the hospital, with a poke on the cheek and a scowl. Get better soon, Chouji. Look /healthy/ again. And he said it with an annoyed expression, which meant damnit Chouji, you want to worry me to death? So Chouji promised him he would. He just didn’t know how long it would take. Still, it kind of felt good to know that Shikamaru liked him looking like himself. Which meant looking like an Akimichi. Which meant eating a friggin’ /lot/ to try and make up for what he’d lost. Which meant more of chips. Which Chouji really had some work to do.
Birthday Gifts
Date: 2003-12-18 02:32 am (UTC)“Sakura-san.”
“Lee-san.” Sakura looked about as cheerful as a person could. In just a fluffy pink towel. On a cool November day. And in no position to rectify the situation at all as she seemed to quite handily at the mercy of the mass of squirrels. A column of which were tottering in front of Lee’s door. They’d knocked. “Hi.”
“Sakura-san.” Lee said again, and looked amazed. “What is…” The squirrels gave an excited, collective jump. Sakura yelped.
“I was hoping you’d tell me,” she said, holding the ends of the towel tighter and plotting the little creatures’ bloody deaths. “You know, Lee-san, if you wanted me to stop by…”
Lee rubbed his eyes. And stared. And then realized that Sakura wasn’t wearing very much at /all/ and looked away. “I would have come to see you! Sakura-san, I would never! Especially not--Were you taking a shower?”
“Yes.” That much was obvious, she thought.
“/Especially/ not…” He pursed his lips, rallied himself, and gave the squirrels a very stern look indeed. “What is the meaning of this?”
The enthusiasm of the rustling, quailing masses nearly dropped the kunoichi, right there. “Squeak!” the squirrels said.
“So it is.” Lee’s expression grew grim.
“Squeaksqueak!”
Lee shook his head. “That’s still no excuse! Put her down, right this instant.”
Sakura, who was getting sick of being jostled around, breathed out a relieved sigh. “That’s better, Lee-sa—AH!” And that was when they tossed her. Lee caught her without a problem, but Sakura was none too amused, especially--once she’d caught her breath and made sure the towel hadn’t blown away—when she noticed they’d started clapping. And doing backflips.
“That isn’t what I meant,” Lee said, crossly. “I am very angry with you.”
The squirrels froze.
“I mean it.”
“Squeak…” the squirrels protested, and Sakura had never seen so many dewy eyes.
Lee’s resolve faltered, but only for a moment. “I….” He stuck out his chin. “We’ll talk about this later!” He turned, Sakura and all, and marched back into his apartment.
Sakura opened her mouth. “Lee-san--”
“I swear to you, I had no idea--”
“Lee-san.”
“--They usually don’t /do/ things like that.”
“/Lee./”
“Is there anything I can—Um yes?”
Sakura had a hand around his upper arm to keep her balance; she looked up, slowly, and tiredly, and thought hell, at least Lee had a nice chest—and wow, did her mind do weird things with cold, and lack of sleep, and abduction-by-forest-animals. It was just one of those mornings.
“…I’d…Kind of like some clothes?”
Later she would remember to wish him happy birthday.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-18 05:49 am (UTC)(I figure this is what I deserve for using the Puuchu icon...)
These Things Happen
Date: 2003-12-18 09:46 pm (UTC)She did. The man would’ve killed her, would’ve endangered the mission-- wouldn’t surrender. Hinata sat by the body and stared at her palm. She could still see the last wisps of chakra coming off of it like smoke, the skin flushed and warm. It never took much.
“I know,” she whispered, and slowly curled her fingers. They seemed so small, suddenly.
“Hinata.” Kiba sounded pained, standing behind her with his hands shoved into his pockets. “C’mon. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
She wasn’t. It had been almost instant, barely enough time for it to register in her opponents eyes: Oh. He must’ve been twice her age, easily double her height; arms bulging with muscle now slack and useless in the mud.
When had it started to rain?
“Hinata…”
“I’m all right.”
She was. The water felt heavy on her back as she stood, pressing her hand against her thigh and wiping off the sweat. There hadn’t been much blood--just that thin trickle at the corner of the man’s lips. These things sometimes were necessary. These things happened.
Kiba touched her shoulder.
“Let’s go find the others.”
“Okay.”
He let her lean against him, just a little, as they walked away.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-03-16 07:48 am (UTC)