Work Text:
Here in the Garden
A bountiful field of white blossoms, spread far as the eye can see. Two children frolicked there, each free of human burdens as they laughed as danced among the flowers. Petals floated in the air, slowly covering them in snow. The sky-eyed boy beamed and stuck out his hand.
“Let's play a game
I'll show you how it's done.”
The smaller boy took it without hesitation.
Here in the Garden
He circled around. I tried to follow, but I was stopped by a hand on my shoulder and a giggle.
“Stand very still
This'll be so much fun.”
Utterly trusting, naïvely innocent, I stood stock still and closed My eyes. It was naught but a few moments when he heard the footsteps running up behind me, and then thousands of butterfly wings fluttering over my face. Feeling the addition weight being added I touched my head. A flower crown. When I opened his eyes I saw the pure-white petals flying everywhere, a blizzard. Smiling I turned, but my breath caught as I saw him, a crown resting gently upon his golden head, sky-blue eyes reflecting the joy of the world, a beautiful feathered being against the shining sun. An angel.
And then he smiled
And everything was perfect.
That's what I'm after
A smile in her eyes
Not the smile he puts on for meetings. Not the smile he wears upon his face like a mask. Not the smile he puts on when he’s hurt or scared or lonely.
The sound of her laughter
Is the sound of music. Of thousands of tinkling tiny bells. The sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.
Happy to listen
Happy to play
A hundred years, spent in that flower garden. A hundred years of careless dancing, of unlimited fun. A hundred years of looking up and seeing him smile.
Happily watching her drift away
America grew. With it, the distance between us. He was preparing to join the world outside. He didn’t have time for me anymore. Soon, he had to leave. I was just too little to go with him. Now, all alone, I plucked at the flowers of their youth, mourning.
Happily waiting
All on my own
Under the endless sky
Bereft of my angel and his eyes. Clinging to Kumajiro as war raged outside.
A hand. An offer. A refusal. Fighting. Screaming. Silence.
Counting the seconds
Standing alone
As thousands of years go by
The world had followed America. I was left alone, still waiting in the forgotten garden. Talking to Kumajiro to fill the void. It wasn’t the same.
Happily wondering
Night after night
Is this how it works?
Was this how it had to be? Was I doomed to be alone? Was loyalty the price to pay for my angel? For my world? Just in time there was a knock at my door. My angel, haggard, exhausted but no less perfect.
“Am I doing it right?”
Hugging my brother, comforting, reveling in his fleeting presence. Assuring, promising, being the rock he needed. Ever present.
Happy to listen
Happy to stay
Happily watching her drift away
Every time. America always left.
You keep on turning pages for people who don't care
People who don't care about you
Matthew would give anything for his angel.
And still, it takes you ages to see that no one's there
But America did not care.
See that no one's there
See that no one's there…