(fic) Dreams of Japan - Meine Liebe
Jul. 21st, 2005 06:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katikatTitle: Dreams of Japan
Author: KatiKat
Fandom: Meine Liebe
Disclaimer: All standard disclaimers apply here.
Pairing: Hints of Ludwig/Naoji
Warnings: Sap, Angst, OOC
Notes: I have been challenged by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
michalyn to write a Meine Liebe story that would focus on the relationship between Ludwig and Naoji. Naoji angsting about Japan should have brought me bonus points. Well, I'm not sure if she had exactly THIS in mind, but well... I added the OOC warning because no matter what I did, Ludwig still felt more like Tomomasa >.<;; Well...
Dreams of Japan
by KatiKat
The war started months ago, but until this afternoon, it has just been a headline in the newspaper for us, a thing that one discusses in the history classes and not a subject one experiences on their own.
When the first planes appeared in the sky, the school headmaster ordered us to hide in this underground bunker. We have been trained in the art of war, to fight and to protect, but the school still couldn't afford to let the students get killed, not when most of them were the sons, grandsons and nephews of the most influential families in the world.
We have been sitting here in the dimly lit cellar for what seems like hours. But even through the thick concrete walls, we can hear the rumble of planes and the whining of bombs and when one hits its target, the ground shakes, the thunder echoes through the vast space of the bunker and dust from the ceiling showers down on our heads.
I can see Camus trying to calm down the little ones. Some of them are crying and calling for their parents, huddling together like frightened birds. The older students are walking back and forth between the pillars supporting the ceiling and tons of concrete, bricks and earth above us. And there are Ed and Orpherus, sitting by the wall, talking quietly.
But my attention is held by the young man lying next to me on a mattress. When the first bombs fell from the sky, their target was the dormitory of our school. Ten or so students were hurt by falling bricks and mortar and stones that exploded in every direction. Some of them were caught in the explosion itself. And one of them was Naoji.
When we brought the injured in, the nurse already had half of the infirmary down here. We set the mattresses on the ground, which was much safer considering how badly the ground shook under our feet, and laid the boys down on them. A small eternity seems to have passed from the moment we shut the steel door behind us.
And now, I sit on the mattress next to my friend and hold his hand gently in mine. He is lying on his left side, propped on a pillow under his shoulder blades to relieve the pressure from his injury. A piece of shrapnel caught him just under the ribs on his right side and went straight through him. The nurse undressed him to his breeches so I can see the white bandage around his midriff and the red stain on it that already soaked through. There is another dressing on his head where a piece of masonry hit him in the head, rendering him unconscious and giving him a bad concussion.
I watch as he blinks sluggishly, his eyes unfocused, face pale. The nurse advised me not to let him fall asleep since the concussion could cause him to fall into a coma. And thus every time he closes his eyes and seems to drift off, I lay my hand on his cheek to bring him back.
I tap his face and say quietly: "Hey, don't fall asleep on me."
He licks his dry lips but does open his eyes in the end. I release his hand and reach for a cup of water to let him sip on it. He squints and moans quietly, painfully as he moves his head on the thin pillow beneath his head.
"Cold," he whispers and a shudder runs through him.
The nurse who was just passing by at the moment must have heard his complaint for in moments she was back and handed me a grey blanket. Not the softest one but clean and warm. I shook it out and covered my trembling friend gently. He sighed in relief and snuggled down carefully.
I reclaimed his hand and noticing that he was about to drift off again, I said: "Tell me about your home."
He furrowed his thin black brows slightly and turned his unfocused gaze at me. "Huh?"
"Tell me about Japan. About your home. You seem to miss it terribly."
He frowns and licks his lips again, then croaks out: "Our house... stands on a grassy hill... the view is... so beautiful... like the landscape from a fairy tale..." He takes a deeper breath but grimaces as he pulls at the wound in his side. "My... my grandfather... had a garden... in the back... sand... and stones... and green bushes... I used to... play there... a lot." His voice breaks at the end of the sentence and his eyes fill with tears. He is at the end of his proverbial rope and all his defenses are down. What is left is the vulnerable core of his being, laid open for the world to see.
I don't say anything, just reach out and lay my hand on his cheek, caressing it gently. There is another whining sound, followed by a deep rumble. The whole bunker shakes and the roar of the explosion almost deafens us. That was very close.
Naoji moans as the din echoes through his aching head. He closes his eyes tightly, so tightly that two silvery tears escape from underneath his lids. He squeezes my hand, his knuckles white with pressure. And when the silence reigns around us once again, a small sob escapes him.
He looks at me, subdued and depressed, but still a little annoyed with himself for this little show of humanity and I'm sure that once he is healed and healthy again, he will feel embarrassed about this. But that will come later. Now he asks me in the voice of a small boy who needs a reassurance: "I will see Japan again, won't I?"
I smile, an expression that's most unusual for my stern face, and clasp his hand in both of mine. "Of course you will. And I will come with you. You will show me everything and introduce me to the right people. You will stay by my side and together we will achieve great things. Japan will lay at your feet."
The corners of his pale lips curl up slightly, obviously content with the picture I have drawn for him.
"But now, tell me more," I go on, the necessity of keeping him awake still on my mind. "What are the people in Japan like?"
And as he takes a breath and whispers the answers to my questions, another bomb whizzes over our heads and hits its target with a rumble, leaving ruins and destroyed lives behind. I caress the knuckles of his hand and shut the outer world out.
Just for this short moment, it's just me and Naoji in the whole universe. And the future? We will see. There is still Japan waiting for us...
The End
Author: KatiKat
Fandom: Meine Liebe
Disclaimer: All standard disclaimers apply here.
Pairing: Hints of Ludwig/Naoji
Warnings: Sap, Angst, OOC
Notes: I have been challenged by
michalyn to write a Meine Liebe story that would focus on the relationship between Ludwig and Naoji. Naoji angsting about Japan should have brought me bonus points. Well, I'm not sure if she had exactly THIS in mind, but well... I added the OOC warning because no matter what I did, Ludwig still felt more like Tomomasa >.<;; Well... Dreams of Japan
by KatiKat
The war started months ago, but until this afternoon, it has just been a headline in the newspaper for us, a thing that one discusses in the history classes and not a subject one experiences on their own.
When the first planes appeared in the sky, the school headmaster ordered us to hide in this underground bunker. We have been trained in the art of war, to fight and to protect, but the school still couldn't afford to let the students get killed, not when most of them were the sons, grandsons and nephews of the most influential families in the world.
We have been sitting here in the dimly lit cellar for what seems like hours. But even through the thick concrete walls, we can hear the rumble of planes and the whining of bombs and when one hits its target, the ground shakes, the thunder echoes through the vast space of the bunker and dust from the ceiling showers down on our heads.
I can see Camus trying to calm down the little ones. Some of them are crying and calling for their parents, huddling together like frightened birds. The older students are walking back and forth between the pillars supporting the ceiling and tons of concrete, bricks and earth above us. And there are Ed and Orpherus, sitting by the wall, talking quietly.
But my attention is held by the young man lying next to me on a mattress. When the first bombs fell from the sky, their target was the dormitory of our school. Ten or so students were hurt by falling bricks and mortar and stones that exploded in every direction. Some of them were caught in the explosion itself. And one of them was Naoji.
When we brought the injured in, the nurse already had half of the infirmary down here. We set the mattresses on the ground, which was much safer considering how badly the ground shook under our feet, and laid the boys down on them. A small eternity seems to have passed from the moment we shut the steel door behind us.
And now, I sit on the mattress next to my friend and hold his hand gently in mine. He is lying on his left side, propped on a pillow under his shoulder blades to relieve the pressure from his injury. A piece of shrapnel caught him just under the ribs on his right side and went straight through him. The nurse undressed him to his breeches so I can see the white bandage around his midriff and the red stain on it that already soaked through. There is another dressing on his head where a piece of masonry hit him in the head, rendering him unconscious and giving him a bad concussion.
I watch as he blinks sluggishly, his eyes unfocused, face pale. The nurse advised me not to let him fall asleep since the concussion could cause him to fall into a coma. And thus every time he closes his eyes and seems to drift off, I lay my hand on his cheek to bring him back.
I tap his face and say quietly: "Hey, don't fall asleep on me."
He licks his dry lips but does open his eyes in the end. I release his hand and reach for a cup of water to let him sip on it. He squints and moans quietly, painfully as he moves his head on the thin pillow beneath his head.
"Cold," he whispers and a shudder runs through him.
The nurse who was just passing by at the moment must have heard his complaint for in moments she was back and handed me a grey blanket. Not the softest one but clean and warm. I shook it out and covered my trembling friend gently. He sighed in relief and snuggled down carefully.
I reclaimed his hand and noticing that he was about to drift off again, I said: "Tell me about your home."
He furrowed his thin black brows slightly and turned his unfocused gaze at me. "Huh?"
"Tell me about Japan. About your home. You seem to miss it terribly."
He frowns and licks his lips again, then croaks out: "Our house... stands on a grassy hill... the view is... so beautiful... like the landscape from a fairy tale..." He takes a deeper breath but grimaces as he pulls at the wound in his side. "My... my grandfather... had a garden... in the back... sand... and stones... and green bushes... I used to... play there... a lot." His voice breaks at the end of the sentence and his eyes fill with tears. He is at the end of his proverbial rope and all his defenses are down. What is left is the vulnerable core of his being, laid open for the world to see.
I don't say anything, just reach out and lay my hand on his cheek, caressing it gently. There is another whining sound, followed by a deep rumble. The whole bunker shakes and the roar of the explosion almost deafens us. That was very close.
Naoji moans as the din echoes through his aching head. He closes his eyes tightly, so tightly that two silvery tears escape from underneath his lids. He squeezes my hand, his knuckles white with pressure. And when the silence reigns around us once again, a small sob escapes him.
He looks at me, subdued and depressed, but still a little annoyed with himself for this little show of humanity and I'm sure that once he is healed and healthy again, he will feel embarrassed about this. But that will come later. Now he asks me in the voice of a small boy who needs a reassurance: "I will see Japan again, won't I?"
I smile, an expression that's most unusual for my stern face, and clasp his hand in both of mine. "Of course you will. And I will come with you. You will show me everything and introduce me to the right people. You will stay by my side and together we will achieve great things. Japan will lay at your feet."
The corners of his pale lips curl up slightly, obviously content with the picture I have drawn for him.
"But now, tell me more," I go on, the necessity of keeping him awake still on my mind. "What are the people in Japan like?"
And as he takes a breath and whispers the answers to my questions, another bomb whizzes over our heads and hits its target with a rumble, leaving ruins and destroyed lives behind. I caress the knuckles of his hand and shut the outer world out.
Just for this short moment, it's just me and Naoji in the whole universe. And the future? We will see. There is still Japan waiting for us...
The End
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-07-24 01:34 pm (UTC)Now I have to work on your challenge fic. This is a mighty tough act to follow.
no subject
Date: 2005-07-29 10:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-03 11:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-03 03:29 pm (UTC)