Before anything, I do not own any of the Weiß boys, they belong to their creator, even though if he wishes, I would gladly take them off his hands. ::Grins:: Though I know that's not happening. ::Sighs:: Too bad, I'm just borrowing them for the fic right now, and well, Aya/Ran-kun's not very happy about it. ::Smiles:: But, he'll just have to live with it. Oh yeah, beta-reader needed VERY badly. HELP ME!!!!!!
Icya
Prologue: The Fall
The autumn sun peeked through a line of thick clouds, spotted the field with her light and left shades of gold and black onto the earth. Leaves on trees near by were changed from green to brown, red, yellow, matching the grass on the field which they stood, dying in the arms of the coldness brought by a soon to come winter.
Tsukiyono Omi pulled his jacket closer to his form as he stood outside of the cabin door, tried to take the coldness away and kept his what was left warmth, though the fine fingers of lady wind found a way through the tiny cracks of the jacket and kissed his skin with her ice lips. He shivered a bit and took a step towards the lines of stairs before him, facing the small open meadow.
It was a nice place in the hills, surrounded by the image of nature and sound of the things within it. Light tan colored wooden cabin with the top gray, the color of the clouds before a summer storm, where they were the thickest to an almost black, though clearly defined as gray. Old-fashioned windows spread the lower and upper levels of the house, gave in to the dim light brought by the sun. Of course, that was where the boys decided to spend their vacation away from the flower shop, where they spend their Thanksgiving time , and from the nagging from Ran, Aya-chan dragged along too.
The blond boy wrapped his hands about his arms and walked down the steps in almost slow motion, the woods creaked from under his feet as the sound echoed through the forest and send a wave of birds flying away, left the branches near shaking in the wind. He tried to ignore the cold and took a deep breath, feeling the fresh air circling his body and cooling his temperature.
That was definably not a good idea.
Feeling ice down his back, Omi hiked into the forest with familiarity as he followed the dirt-paved path that led into a heavy ambush of green. It was decided that he, the youngest member of the group, besides Aya-chan, had to walk down that long narrow path to the mail box half a mile away to pick up their newspaper for the day. He was cheated in some ways, he just knew, for picking up the morning paper everyday for a week through the cold autumn air, though arguing with Ran-kun or even Yoji-kun would not work, since Ran-kun would just plainly ignore him, and Yoji would come up with some new idea to torture him, and it would not be pretty. So he stuck with his morning hike through the woods.
The road felt soft against the bottom of his sneakers as they sunk in about a quarter of an inch into the dirt, leaving a trail of foot prints behind him, almost matching the foot prints from yesterday when he took the same path to the edgy of silence and beginning point of civilization. Same path he walked on for three days, and same path he will walk for three more till Sunday, when they would leave for the city once more.
He liked it around here. Omi slid his hands from his arms to his pockets, where he tucked them in under the thick piece of cloth and away from the cold. The knuckles would be white about now, they always turn that color after a few minutes in the cold. The thought of leaving his gloves on the counter crossed his mind as he muttered a curse and continued, looking about the place to keep from his mind trailing back to the freezing air.
It was pretty here as the forest itself prepared for the harsh winter to come, where the snow would cover all and turn the world into a sheet of white. Autumn's his favorite season, he decided that after he saw the change of the forest two days ago, the weather's not too hot like summer, nor too cold like winter, or even filed with endless rain like spring. But somehow, it always seemed colder in the woods, nearly winter like to a point.
Suddenly, the silence shocked him. Why weren't the birds singing? Where were the whispers of the wind? Why was there no sound?
Hearing himself think, Omi took a deep breath. He was creeping himself out, just enough to send cold sweat down his back, which was causing more chilliness than he wanted. Deciding to warm himself up, he took out his hands from the pockets and turned the slow hike into a jog. That should warm up his body a bit.
A car honked somewhere in front of him as the rubber rammed into the cement road and loud noises filled the silent air. He was almost to the mailbox. The sound cheered up his mood a bit as he speeded up his jog to a run and stopped himself just before the black mailbox. The running did heat up his body, for now the heat was burning through his lungs and filling his muscles.
Opening the mailbox with one hand, he took out the newspaper and the mail along with it.
"Bills, bills, junk, bills." Omi ran through the pile of paper in his hands. "Love letter for Yoji, bills, junk, oooo, computer advertisement." He tugged that under one arm and continued the search between the stacks of paper. " Junk, junk, what's this?" The last thing in his pile was a card.
The card was about the size of his hand, plain old rose colored paper with four white flowers decorating the four edges and the words "Happy Thanksgiving" printed onto the middle in a fine cursive.
Omi tugged the rest of his papers under his other arm and opened the card, since it didn't address to whom it was for, he wasn't doing anything wrong by opening it. A fine black print filled the rose colored sheet in neat letters.
"Black feathers with angel wing
Glowing light of gold.
Bloody hands with soul of white
Tied in crimson bow.
Eyes of ice with scarlet tear
Weep for days to come.
Empty lies with untold truth
Spun by close to none.
Cry for tomorrow.
Forget yesterday.
Never remember.
Just an illusion of black and white."
Omi blinked a bit at the card in his hands, who ever send this thing must be weird to come up with a poem like that for Thanksgiving. Hey, you never know, maybe Yoji-kun will think of it as funny. With a slight shrug, the blond boy started to walk back to the cabin. All four of the others should be up by now; he should show them this, just in case it really had to do with the mission. Maybe it's from Manx, or even Schwarz.
The forest was silent, almost silent with the exception of the footsteps of sneakers against the soft dirt-paved path, leading into a shade of black and green.
Icya
Prologue: The Fall
The autumn sun peeked through a line of thick clouds, spotted the field with her light and left shades of gold and black onto the earth. Leaves on trees near by were changed from green to brown, red, yellow, matching the grass on the field which they stood, dying in the arms of the coldness brought by a soon to come winter.
Tsukiyono Omi pulled his jacket closer to his form as he stood outside of the cabin door, tried to take the coldness away and kept his what was left warmth, though the fine fingers of lady wind found a way through the tiny cracks of the jacket and kissed his skin with her ice lips. He shivered a bit and took a step towards the lines of stairs before him, facing the small open meadow.
It was a nice place in the hills, surrounded by the image of nature and sound of the things within it. Light tan colored wooden cabin with the top gray, the color of the clouds before a summer storm, where they were the thickest to an almost black, though clearly defined as gray. Old-fashioned windows spread the lower and upper levels of the house, gave in to the dim light brought by the sun. Of course, that was where the boys decided to spend their vacation away from the flower shop, where they spend their Thanksgiving time , and from the nagging from Ran, Aya-chan dragged along too.
The blond boy wrapped his hands about his arms and walked down the steps in almost slow motion, the woods creaked from under his feet as the sound echoed through the forest and send a wave of birds flying away, left the branches near shaking in the wind. He tried to ignore the cold and took a deep breath, feeling the fresh air circling his body and cooling his temperature.
That was definably not a good idea.
Feeling ice down his back, Omi hiked into the forest with familiarity as he followed the dirt-paved path that led into a heavy ambush of green. It was decided that he, the youngest member of the group, besides Aya-chan, had to walk down that long narrow path to the mail box half a mile away to pick up their newspaper for the day. He was cheated in some ways, he just knew, for picking up the morning paper everyday for a week through the cold autumn air, though arguing with Ran-kun or even Yoji-kun would not work, since Ran-kun would just plainly ignore him, and Yoji would come up with some new idea to torture him, and it would not be pretty. So he stuck with his morning hike through the woods.
The road felt soft against the bottom of his sneakers as they sunk in about a quarter of an inch into the dirt, leaving a trail of foot prints behind him, almost matching the foot prints from yesterday when he took the same path to the edgy of silence and beginning point of civilization. Same path he walked on for three days, and same path he will walk for three more till Sunday, when they would leave for the city once more.
He liked it around here. Omi slid his hands from his arms to his pockets, where he tucked them in under the thick piece of cloth and away from the cold. The knuckles would be white about now, they always turn that color after a few minutes in the cold. The thought of leaving his gloves on the counter crossed his mind as he muttered a curse and continued, looking about the place to keep from his mind trailing back to the freezing air.
It was pretty here as the forest itself prepared for the harsh winter to come, where the snow would cover all and turn the world into a sheet of white. Autumn's his favorite season, he decided that after he saw the change of the forest two days ago, the weather's not too hot like summer, nor too cold like winter, or even filed with endless rain like spring. But somehow, it always seemed colder in the woods, nearly winter like to a point.
Suddenly, the silence shocked him. Why weren't the birds singing? Where were the whispers of the wind? Why was there no sound?
Hearing himself think, Omi took a deep breath. He was creeping himself out, just enough to send cold sweat down his back, which was causing more chilliness than he wanted. Deciding to warm himself up, he took out his hands from the pockets and turned the slow hike into a jog. That should warm up his body a bit.
A car honked somewhere in front of him as the rubber rammed into the cement road and loud noises filled the silent air. He was almost to the mailbox. The sound cheered up his mood a bit as he speeded up his jog to a run and stopped himself just before the black mailbox. The running did heat up his body, for now the heat was burning through his lungs and filling his muscles.
Opening the mailbox with one hand, he took out the newspaper and the mail along with it.
"Bills, bills, junk, bills." Omi ran through the pile of paper in his hands. "Love letter for Yoji, bills, junk, oooo, computer advertisement." He tugged that under one arm and continued the search between the stacks of paper. " Junk, junk, what's this?" The last thing in his pile was a card.
The card was about the size of his hand, plain old rose colored paper with four white flowers decorating the four edges and the words "Happy Thanksgiving" printed onto the middle in a fine cursive.
Omi tugged the rest of his papers under his other arm and opened the card, since it didn't address to whom it was for, he wasn't doing anything wrong by opening it. A fine black print filled the rose colored sheet in neat letters.
"Black feathers with angel wing
Glowing light of gold.
Bloody hands with soul of white
Tied in crimson bow.
Eyes of ice with scarlet tear
Weep for days to come.
Empty lies with untold truth
Spun by close to none.
Cry for tomorrow.
Forget yesterday.
Never remember.
Just an illusion of black and white."
Omi blinked a bit at the card in his hands, who ever send this thing must be weird to come up with a poem like that for Thanksgiving. Hey, you never know, maybe Yoji-kun will think of it as funny. With a slight shrug, the blond boy started to walk back to the cabin. All four of the others should be up by now; he should show them this, just in case it really had to do with the mission. Maybe it's from Manx, or even Schwarz.
The forest was silent, almost silent with the exception of the footsteps of sneakers against the soft dirt-paved path, leading into a shade of black and green.