no (chugi) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-10-31 23:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !narrative, tomatsu saito |
Who: Tomatsu Saito
What: Chidren and Saito.
Where: The streets.
When: October 31st, evening.
Rating: G
Status: Complete, Narrative.
For some strange reason, Eve of the Holy Saints and Fete of the Holy Saints were his favorite holidays. Not one nor the other by itself, but combined. The contrast of the two events made Saito laugh, short and incredulous, before he crawled back into himself to quietly dwell on his thoughts. Eve of the Holy Saints - a holiday for children. Kids who dressed up in who they wanted to be, who they admired, and bothered complete strangers for treats. And then the next day some devout child would be too focused on their treats to stay put on the long hardwood benches during mass. Saito slipped through the streets. An easy pace in a mostly empty way because he fancied himself a walk and the sun was just starting to sink past the horizon. Adults, or more like children who liked to think themselves experienced, were surely about to drink in the bars without one thought of the dead. But well, there never seemed to be a second of today and the next that didn't remind him of it. From the decorations to the sweets traditionally given out, they all revolved around the faint memory of honoring the dearly departed. Hard candy clattered against the cobblestone path when a child, only five, bumped into Saito after running around a corner. A sweet covered by a bright orange wrapper, bright and wrinkled in a way that made Saito taste a ghost of sugar on his tongue, rolled to his foot and Saito bent down to pick it up. "Here." Saito wanted to give it to the child, but they were suddenly gaping at the sword slung onto his side. Of course he couldn't walk out unprotected - that would be stupid. But he raised an eyebrow at the child and kept him away from the blade; it was too sharp to be a toy. "Is that real?" Only then did Saito recognize the costume that he wore. Plated armor, wooden shoes, and of course. A fake sword that Saito stealthily stole from his side. "This one is." He then plunged it into his own side, but really only slipped the cheap material next to his own arm pressed against his side. With a dramatic flair reserved for children's eyes only, Saito staggered and groaned in fake pain. The child's lips parted into a perfect little 'o' of surprise and then to an innocent grin, so similar to one he used to know, when Saito fell to his knees and clutched at his heart. "I'll live." Saito pulled the fake sword out and handed it back to the kid. He also tried to hand the fallen sweet back to him but the child shook his head no and almost seemed proud of himself. As if he was all grown up now, giving candy to random strangers who put on dramatic little bits for him. "You can keep that one, though you're not wearing a guise." If anyone asked, Saito had a twitch in his lip. He was not smiling, not at all. With a nod, he pocketed it and made note to eat it later. But before the kid ran out of his life on his tiny little legs Saito made sure he knew the truth. He owed him so much for giving him a sweet, which was as precious as gold to these children, and for watching a grown man make a fool out of himself. "But I am." Saito's hand made brief contact with the child's head in an almost caring gesture before he turned and slipped out of sight. A day to honor the departed indeed. The sweet tasted like nostalgia when he rolled it around his tongue. That should be enough to honor himself, he thought. |