music: ---
mood: thoughtful
prompts: silence, stagger;
When they arrived, silence greeted them as though all those under Kakita Nobu's watch held their breaths in expectation.
Isawa Seiichiro said nothing as he and Hideaki approached the main house on foot, their sandals dusty from the journey. The messenger who had accompanied them had made himself scarce, and only Nobu's son and the boy's trusted friend led their footprints all the way past the half-opened door.
At ten years old both boys carried themselves with the grace and dignity of little men. It was something to warm the heart of any parent, but the scowl etched on the young Crane's face made it clear that he was not all that eager to finally be home.
"You should be happy, Hideaki," Seiichiro broached the topic gently. "Having a sibling is a wonderful thing," The Phoenix cautioned, keeping careful watch on the changes on his friend's face. "You'll always have soemone to share the blame with when you get in truoble."
"Save me the anecdotes, Seiichiro," the latter responded grimly, his young face furrowed at the brow. "I just want to see if my mother is safe and well." His irirs blue eyes slid sideways and the sound of soft footfalls alerted them to an approaching figure.
Hideaki pivoted on one foot, his gaze meeting the familiar gaze of his father. Both Kakita regarded one another and Seiichiro allowed the scene to unfold as he stepped one foot back, removing himself from their immediate concern.
"Father,"
"She will be glad that you came," the elder samurai smiled, stepping forward to embrace his son. "They will... both be glad." At Nobu's words, Hideaki's eyes widened briefly before shutting tight, his own arms -- short as they were -- flinging themselves around his father's broad torso in relief.
"Come," Nobu smiled, "let me introduce you to your sister."
They named her Kotori after Hideaki remarked that she was small and slightly mottled like a newborn baby bird. The midwives had laughed and explained that she wouldn't look so mottled after they finished giving her her first, brief bath. They were right.
And though her hair barely had any hair and her cheeks to him seemed like two puffy loaves of bread, Hideaki, who had been opposed to having siblings, miscarriage after miscarriage weakening his mother, thought her the most beautiful thing in the world.
In fact, when the young Crane staggered out as though dealt a powerful blow, Seiichiro, who had been passing his time in meditation, could only hold back a smile at the ferocity of his friend's love for the newborn Kakita.
"Not a day old," Hideaki breathed, slightly pale, "and already I would wage a war for her."
mood: thoughtful
prompts: silence, stagger;
When they arrived, silence greeted them as though all those under Kakita Nobu's watch held their breaths in expectation.
Isawa Seiichiro said nothing as he and Hideaki approached the main house on foot, their sandals dusty from the journey. The messenger who had accompanied them had made himself scarce, and only Nobu's son and the boy's trusted friend led their footprints all the way past the half-opened door.
At ten years old both boys carried themselves with the grace and dignity of little men. It was something to warm the heart of any parent, but the scowl etched on the young Crane's face made it clear that he was not all that eager to finally be home.
"You should be happy, Hideaki," Seiichiro broached the topic gently. "Having a sibling is a wonderful thing," The Phoenix cautioned, keeping careful watch on the changes on his friend's face. "You'll always have soemone to share the blame with when you get in truoble."
"Save me the anecdotes, Seiichiro," the latter responded grimly, his young face furrowed at the brow. "I just want to see if my mother is safe and well." His irirs blue eyes slid sideways and the sound of soft footfalls alerted them to an approaching figure.
Hideaki pivoted on one foot, his gaze meeting the familiar gaze of his father. Both Kakita regarded one another and Seiichiro allowed the scene to unfold as he stepped one foot back, removing himself from their immediate concern.
"Father,"
"She will be glad that you came," the elder samurai smiled, stepping forward to embrace his son. "They will... both be glad." At Nobu's words, Hideaki's eyes widened briefly before shutting tight, his own arms -- short as they were -- flinging themselves around his father's broad torso in relief.
"Come," Nobu smiled, "let me introduce you to your sister."
They named her Kotori after Hideaki remarked that she was small and slightly mottled like a newborn baby bird. The midwives had laughed and explained that she wouldn't look so mottled after they finished giving her her first, brief bath. They were right.
And though her hair barely had any hair and her cheeks to him seemed like two puffy loaves of bread, Hideaki, who had been opposed to having siblings, miscarriage after miscarriage weakening his mother, thought her the most beautiful thing in the world.
In fact, when the young Crane staggered out as though dealt a powerful blow, Seiichiro, who had been passing his time in meditation, could only hold back a smile at the ferocity of his friend's love for the newborn Kakita.
"Not a day old," Hideaki breathed, slightly pale, "and already I would wage a war for her."
