Samurai Champloo
Genre: Romance/Angst
Type: Oneshot/Vignette
Pairing: MugenxFuu
Title: Operae Pretium (it is worthwhile)
Summary: A lie is a lie is a lie is a lie and deep down they're so tired of pretending. MugenxFuu.
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: Interaction.
Harsh words and loud voices are the only manner of conversation they know. Apologies are understood, never voiced, and forgiveness is a silent endeavor where words are meaningless. Each glare, every scathing remark---both true and cowardly---holds something sacred in it's secrecy.
Heated arguments, clenched fists, fierce eyes, guarded expressions; they're trying so hard to convict each other of unquestionable hatred and remarkable indifference that it's become exhausting.
Every word is a challenge, every tone a disguise. Words are the weapons that they wield and every time they clash in disagreement, their polished facades crack from heavy strain.
A lie is a lie is a lie is a lie and deep down they're so tired of pretending.
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: Motivation.
His actions are fueled by the hope of redemption; her's derived from the pursuance of truth.
They accompany one another based on promise and neither want to believe in looking back (giving up). Roads traveled, one at a time, lead them onward into obscurity where innumerable footsteps, uncharted paths, speak volumes of their future.
The battered sword he carries, stained with death, gives an account of his dedication. Each life taken, the rivers of crimson, are physical accounts of his contract of agreement. He protects, he promises, he (unknowingly) believes.
Redemption is something obtainable, tangible, and he knows it's worth it; her innocent features, vibrant and positive, prove this fact. A promise kept is a promise earned and he's past believing civil duties and admirable obligations are worthwhile.
Only smiles, young and naive, are valuable, and hers (he hates admitting) is worth protecting.
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: Expectation.
She knows she'll never quite be able to put him into words. Nothing comes close. But her feelings are jarring, raw, with enough power to cause breathing difficult and she secretly hates him for it. They fluctuate, argue beneath her chest, make questions unanswerable.
In essence, he is a contradiction.
She is white, he black, and when together they fuse to create grey (a color of imperfection). The idea suits her, suits them, because she has never known otherwise. Immaculate circumstance, spotless beauty; they will always be damaged, him by death and her by loss.
It's perfect in it's imperfection.
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Two halves of a circle: one black, one white; one searching for redemption, the other truth; they combat in harsh words and loud voices; and straddle the line of love and hate.
But a lie is a lie is a lie is a lie and deep down they're so tired of pretending.