storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2009-11-10 09:28 am
storypaint) wrote2009-11-10 09:28 am
Entry tags:
Birth (Eriol gen)
Title: Birth
Fandom: Cardcaptor Sakura
Length: 689 words
Prompt: fic-or-treat: Eriol - memories for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chibidl
Pairing: Eriol gen; hints of Clow/Yuuko
Other: n/a
Excerpt: Eriol rocked back and forth, trying not to fall over. He rested unfamiliar hands on unfamiliar knees, inhaling as though his lungs were new. They were. But Clow hadn't expected it to be like this.
The first breath was the most painful one. Eriol rocked back and forth, trying not to fall over. He rested unfamiliar hands on unfamiliar knees, inhaling as though his lungs were new. They were. But he hadn't expected--
Clow hadn't expected it to be like this.
He wasn't very good at separating his memories, even later when the trauma of his birth had faded and he was Eriol, with his own life and guardians. So he could say to Ruby that he liked Tomoeda because it was where he'd died. (Clow would have appreciated the touch of melodrama.)
When his breath became regular and less painful, he looked over with blurred eyes at his counterpart, who was dealing with the same thing, but twice as disoriented. Fujitaka had no memories of his past life to guide him, beyond those deep memories that all humans have. He knew how to breathe, and walk; he knew his name. But he had no past, only this present, and it was no wonder he had sat down to catch his breath, looking confused.
Eriol moved shakily, each step a struggle against a mind used to longer strides and a taller stance. He picked the glasses off the table and handed Fujitaka his pair.
That was better, though the press of the frames on his ears felt strange. Clow had been used to glasses without arms, which hadn't been available when he was young. These probably wouldn't fall off if he got too excited, at least.
Now that Eriol could see, he sank back into his favorite chair, feeling impossibly small as he did so. His feet dangled. He inhaled and began to speak, surprising himself when he did. Of course his voice would be different; he had a different throat now.
"We can stay here a couple of days," he said. "Then I'll take you to her. She'll get you settled in."
He thought of Yuuko with a pang, and even a small touch of embarrassment. He could see the expression on her face already: amusement at his new appearance, which hid a sadness she'd never admit, followed by irritation. He really did ask too much of her. He always had.
He wouldn't stay with her. Nor would Fujitaka, but he wouldn't hurt her quite as badly. The other child was a stranger, but Eriol looked just like Clow had when he was young. The dream must end, he had said to her when he left, instead of I-love-you's or goodbyes, the words that he was good at. He could still feel the bitter taste of it in his mouth, the unfinished way he'd taken his leave and left her behind to wait.
And Eriol was still pursuing that dream to conclusion. Fujitaka was innocent. He was perhaps the boy that Clow could have been without magic. He'd be a good cook and he'd had a brilliant mind. He'd be fine with Yuuko until she could find him a place to stay, even though she would be snappish and moody. Fujitaka would just smile in puzzlement. He had nothing to feel guilty for.
"I think I'd like a nap," Fujitaka said. He wobbled to the door, but paused with his hand on the frame. "Are you all right?" he asked the boy overshadowed by high-backed armchair.
"I will be," he replied, smiling, and at least that felt familiar, and not new. "There is an empty bedroom two doors down. Feel free to sleep."
Fujitaka pushed his glasses up on his nose and nodded. "Thank you very much."
Eriol leaned back in the chair, gripping the armrests, and he dreamed. That was a habit he never could quite break. No more alcohol, no more Yuuko, but still he saw too much. He screwed his eyes shut against the visions, and before he drifted into normal sleep, he felt a small amount of relief.
At least, he thought, Clow was nearing the end. As long as it all stayed true to plan, he would achieve his goal.
He dreamed of bright green eyes and an infectious smile.
Everything would be all right.
Fandom: Cardcaptor Sakura
Length: 689 words
Prompt: fic-or-treat: Eriol - memories for
chibidlPairing: Eriol gen; hints of Clow/Yuuko
Other: n/a
Excerpt: Eriol rocked back and forth, trying not to fall over. He rested unfamiliar hands on unfamiliar knees, inhaling as though his lungs were new. They were. But Clow hadn't expected it to be like this.
The first breath was the most painful one. Eriol rocked back and forth, trying not to fall over. He rested unfamiliar hands on unfamiliar knees, inhaling as though his lungs were new. They were. But he hadn't expected--
Clow hadn't expected it to be like this.
He wasn't very good at separating his memories, even later when the trauma of his birth had faded and he was Eriol, with his own life and guardians. So he could say to Ruby that he liked Tomoeda because it was where he'd died. (Clow would have appreciated the touch of melodrama.)
When his breath became regular and less painful, he looked over with blurred eyes at his counterpart, who was dealing with the same thing, but twice as disoriented. Fujitaka had no memories of his past life to guide him, beyond those deep memories that all humans have. He knew how to breathe, and walk; he knew his name. But he had no past, only this present, and it was no wonder he had sat down to catch his breath, looking confused.
Eriol moved shakily, each step a struggle against a mind used to longer strides and a taller stance. He picked the glasses off the table and handed Fujitaka his pair.
That was better, though the press of the frames on his ears felt strange. Clow had been used to glasses without arms, which hadn't been available when he was young. These probably wouldn't fall off if he got too excited, at least.
Now that Eriol could see, he sank back into his favorite chair, feeling impossibly small as he did so. His feet dangled. He inhaled and began to speak, surprising himself when he did. Of course his voice would be different; he had a different throat now.
"We can stay here a couple of days," he said. "Then I'll take you to her. She'll get you settled in."
He thought of Yuuko with a pang, and even a small touch of embarrassment. He could see the expression on her face already: amusement at his new appearance, which hid a sadness she'd never admit, followed by irritation. He really did ask too much of her. He always had.
He wouldn't stay with her. Nor would Fujitaka, but he wouldn't hurt her quite as badly. The other child was a stranger, but Eriol looked just like Clow had when he was young. The dream must end, he had said to her when he left, instead of I-love-you's or goodbyes, the words that he was good at. He could still feel the bitter taste of it in his mouth, the unfinished way he'd taken his leave and left her behind to wait.
And Eriol was still pursuing that dream to conclusion. Fujitaka was innocent. He was perhaps the boy that Clow could have been without magic. He'd be a good cook and he'd had a brilliant mind. He'd be fine with Yuuko until she could find him a place to stay, even though she would be snappish and moody. Fujitaka would just smile in puzzlement. He had nothing to feel guilty for.
"I think I'd like a nap," Fujitaka said. He wobbled to the door, but paused with his hand on the frame. "Are you all right?" he asked the boy overshadowed by high-backed armchair.
"I will be," he replied, smiling, and at least that felt familiar, and not new. "There is an empty bedroom two doors down. Feel free to sleep."
Fujitaka pushed his glasses up on his nose and nodded. "Thank you very much."
Eriol leaned back in the chair, gripping the armrests, and he dreamed. That was a habit he never could quite break. No more alcohol, no more Yuuko, but still he saw too much. He screwed his eyes shut against the visions, and before he drifted into normal sleep, he felt a small amount of relief.
At least, he thought, Clow was nearing the end. As long as it all stayed true to plan, he would achieve his goal.
He dreamed of bright green eyes and an infectious smile.
Everything would be all right.