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The Idea of a Promise
Title: The Idea of a Promise
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tarnera
Appearing in this work: Ginko, Tanyuu, Kumado. Vaguely shippish Ginko/Tanyuu, Kumado/Tanyuu but not really.
Spoilers/Timeline: Chapter 7, Chapter 35
Rating: None.
Summary: Ginko isn't normally the type to hope for things that can't be, but he made an exception this once.
Disclaimer: I own nothing save my crazy theories.
Author's Note: I wrote this as one of the samples for an RP game I'm in. But I think it works nicely as a stand-alone drabble.
She had promised him, years ago. Well. They had promised each other. That her leg would heal, and he would survive, and they would travel together. And he knew that it wasn't a real promise, really he did... that they had been half-joking, bantering when the words were said.
But that didn't stop him from--somewhere deep in his soul, or maybe just the back of his mind--holding out a shred of hope that one day, in the far-distant and unknown future, she might travel with him. It was always there; he would often think about it on the edge between waking and sleep, or when he was too tired to stop his mind from wandering where it shouldn't go. The hope of the idea of the promise kept him warm in winter, kept him going when he was too tired to go on, and at least in one case, kept him alive when he could have given up. Probably would have. The thought of seeing her again, and renewing the promise... he kept the tiny bit of hope alive for years.
Then, one bright autumn day, she says those words. "I am prepared to live out my life with this mushi." And it shouldn't hurt, hearing those words, hearing her... not give up, because it isn't a promise. It never had been. So it shouldn't hurt. But it does. Hearing his hope, the joking, bantering half-promise just swept aside like it is nothing at all. And she looks at Kumado--Kumado of all people--and says the words he can't admit, not even to himself, he was hoping to hear all this time... "You and I are not going it alone."
And he listens to the wind whistle through the grass and over the hills as he carefully shuts away the hope and the longing. Carefully tells himself it doesn't matter, because he doesn't love her. He can't; the promise was the only way they could make it work between Tanyuu, who stays in once place, and Ginko, who never stays put. But that's over now. It's all over.
So he smiles as she gives him a cup of tea, and banters with her. Everything is just as normal; nothing has changed.
Except everything has.
Author:
tarneraAppearing in this work: Ginko, Tanyuu, Kumado. Vaguely shippish Ginko/Tanyuu, Kumado/Tanyuu but not really.
Spoilers/Timeline: Chapter 7, Chapter 35
Rating: None.
Summary: Ginko isn't normally the type to hope for things that can't be, but he made an exception this once.
Disclaimer: I own nothing save my crazy theories.
Author's Note: I wrote this as one of the samples for an RP game I'm in. But I think it works nicely as a stand-alone drabble.
She had promised him, years ago. Well. They had promised each other. That her leg would heal, and he would survive, and they would travel together. And he knew that it wasn't a real promise, really he did... that they had been half-joking, bantering when the words were said.
But that didn't stop him from--somewhere deep in his soul, or maybe just the back of his mind--holding out a shred of hope that one day, in the far-distant and unknown future, she might travel with him. It was always there; he would often think about it on the edge between waking and sleep, or when he was too tired to stop his mind from wandering where it shouldn't go. The hope of the idea of the promise kept him warm in winter, kept him going when he was too tired to go on, and at least in one case, kept him alive when he could have given up. Probably would have. The thought of seeing her again, and renewing the promise... he kept the tiny bit of hope alive for years.
Then, one bright autumn day, she says those words. "I am prepared to live out my life with this mushi." And it shouldn't hurt, hearing those words, hearing her... not give up, because it isn't a promise. It never had been. So it shouldn't hurt. But it does. Hearing his hope, the joking, bantering half-promise just swept aside like it is nothing at all. And she looks at Kumado--Kumado of all people--and says the words he can't admit, not even to himself, he was hoping to hear all this time... "You and I are not going it alone."
And he listens to the wind whistle through the grass and over the hills as he carefully shuts away the hope and the longing. Carefully tells himself it doesn't matter, because he doesn't love her. He can't; the promise was the only way they could make it work between Tanyuu, who stays in once place, and Ginko, who never stays put. But that's over now. It's all over.
So he smiles as she gives him a cup of tea, and banters with her. Everything is just as normal; nothing has changed.
Except everything has.