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Poetry in Courtship
I might not like the Tale of Genji but I really like the idea of love via poetry, and the author of the novel is skilled in both poetry and prose. So I admire the story for the story but I hate the character? It is a bit like Wuthering Heights (I hate Heathcliff.)
Anyway, I came up with a Heian version of ByaHomu. The original version was Cinderella like, which after a bit of research I'm not sure it will fly. So this is the revamped version which loses some of the original I feel. I also have no idea what the convention is for the English version of Heian poetry, so I just wrote with the same subject matter but with none of the syllabic conventions.
There was once a girl who was born into a noble family. The mother died shortly after the child was born, and when she was ten years of age her father also passed away, leaving the child with no support in the world. The girl was then adopted by Kaname, a close family friend, and became the playmate of the family's eldest daughter. No two girls were closer. As the eldest daughter grew, the girl became her lady-in-waiting. As a sign of how valued she was by the family, Kaname gave her the name Homura.
The eldest Kaname daughter eventually married a young official, and Homura followed her to her new household. Here again her fortunes took a downwards turn. The young groom was not happy that the eldest Kaname daughter preferred the company of Homura to himself, and even when he approached his young wife Homura was often asked to remain in the room with the both of them. He should be the sole person that his wife should lavish attention upon.
Finally he said to his wife, "If Homura is to wed and make a good match, it would be better for her to attend to someone who has more social company. I have a friend who needs a lady-in-waiting for his sister. Would it not be better for her to attend to my friend's sister instead?"
The young official had chosen the right words to petition his wife, for the eldest Kaname daughter wanted her friend to experience the happiness of being a wife. So she agreed to her husband's suggestion.
Homura did not want to leave her young mistress at all, but did not want to make things difficult by asking her mistress to take her side. So it came to pass that Homura left the service of the Kanames and was taken to the Kuchiki household.
(in the original version I had Madoka's husband was more of a dick and had her transferred as a mere servant, but I don't think that is possible)
For all the young official's promises, the Kuchikis were not as sociable as he made them out to be. For Lord Kuchiki had lost his wife at a young age, and was generally cool in nature. He had few visitors over, and held even fewer parties. His sister had few friends as well, and maintained a respectful distance from her much older brother. Because she did not know Homura as well as the eldest Kaname daughter did, the two were not as close. This made Homura miserable, though you would not have known it from the bright cheerful letters that she sent back to the eldest Kaname daughter. Again, she did not want to make her previous mistress upset, and so she kept her emotions to herself.
The only bright spot in Homura's life was that the Kuchikis had a gorgeous study, the books and décor within speaking to Lord Kuchiki's impeccable taste. Homura enjoyed spending time in the study, and it also suited her purpose of tutoring Kuchiki's sister. The only thing that Homura could not understand about the study was that Lord Kuchiki kept several old and worn calligraphy brushes in his collection, when the rest had perfect and even bristles. When she asked Kuchiki's sister, she was not aware of the worn brushes.
Here Homura made an error, for she threw away the brushes without consulting anyone else. The young Lord noticed the brushes were missing that very night, and made enquires as to what had happened to them.
"I removed them," Homura admitted, "for they were not in keeping with the aesthetic of the study."
"They were of sentimental importance," and the Lord Kuchiki, already cold, grew even colder in Homura's view.
"She has gotten into trouble," said the servants of the house. Several among them were pleased because Homura was far too talented and beautiful to avoid envy. "Those belonged to the previous lady of the house."
But Homura was a kind girl, and she herself went to look through the discarded items of the house. When she located the brushes she cleaned them with her own hand. Then she presented the brushes to Lord Kuchiki.
"I apologise for my hastiness. I would have fixed the brushes too, but I was afraid there would be sentimental reasons for leaving them in this condition."
Lord Kuchiki took them without any thanks, for the brushes should not have been disturbed in the first place. However, he recognised the effort that had gone into their restoration. Thereafter he looked at the brushes often, and if he thought of Homura as often as the previous lady of the house when he looked upon them, he did not share this sentiment with anyone.
Eventually he called upon Homura again, and this time his pretext was, "It occurred to me that you are tutoring my sister, when I have no idea of your qualifications. I would like to see an example of your penmanship."
It was a very intimate request he had made, but it was also based in fact. Homura pondered, before writing the characters of Kuchiki's family name.
When Lord Kuchiki saw her writing, it piqued his interest. It was written in a good hand, with artistic merit and grace. The paper she had selected was of a fine grain to complement her brushstrokes. "Yet she did not write me a line of poetry, even one copied from a book," he thought. "Is she so concerned to be above showing any amorous intent?"
If his thoughts had not been in that direction before, they certainly were now. He wondered what sort of lines she would compose if he sent off a note to her.
But Lord Kuchiki was also proud, and he hesitated to show interest in one under his direct employ. One might say the lady had no choice, and he wished to be above board in all matters.
He wrote to the young official, asking for more details on Homura's background than what he had provided in recommending Homura as a lady-in-waiting. But the young official did not know more. He passed on Kuchiki's question to his wife, who naturally informed Homura of the Lord's interest.
Homura had not yet made up her mind about whether she wished to be courted by Lord Kuchiki, and so she made a bold request to Kuchiki's sister. "If any notes are passed to you or your staff from Lord Kuchiki, may I request that you destroy them without handing them to me?"
But for all that Kuchiki's sister was distant from her own brother, she was very fond of him, and so she informed him of Homura's bizarre request. Now it would be against Kuchiki's pride not to send her a poem, and so he had his sister bear Homura this missive,
"To close the shutters on the swallow's nest
When he has yet to charm you with his song -
Will the winds of your writing brush not
Turn to warmer thoughts for this swallow?"
The Lord Kuchiki was well known for his brilliant calligraphy. While he was unimaginative in his use of paper, his signature scent was the sakura which he used even out of season. "How amazing our Lord is!" declared the servants, as whispers of his poem reached them.
Even Homura was moved by such a poem, while she recognised the rebuke regarding his sister.
She returned with:
"The winds of my brush cannot compare to
Those worn into winter trees by emotion
Neither are they warm enough to serve
One, how could they serve two?"
On a whim, she tied her own brush to the missive, and apologised to Kuchiki's sister. "I am sorry for involving you in my affairs, for now he has included you in this exchange."
"I do not mind," said Kuchiki's sister, for she enjoyed watching others compose poetry, although she had concerns about the quality of her own. "I wish you would be kinder to him."
Homura only blushed, and placed the missive in the box for delivery.
Kuchiki was charmed by the gift of the brush, which Homura had brought with her from the Kaname household and thus was different from his own. He sent along another gift with this next missive:
"Winter belongs to its own season
As does spring, a spring that shakes
Off the snow of winter to give way
To new buds I will warm with my hands"
Homura blushed even more at the prettiness of the phrase, as well as at the delicate silk handkerchief embroidered with sakura blossoms. Her missive was still cautious, but some of Byakuya's warmth had slipped into her words.
"Spring, flowers and fire all
Grow warm, but in their own time
Will you kindly provide
That slow and constant care?"
Understanding that Homura needed time, Byakuya sent off no more missives.
But certainly both the Lord and Homura were now interested, for they sensed in each other a sensitivity that was much appreciated and complimentary. The Lord wondered when it would be appropriate to write again, while Homura was questioned by herself and parties interested in seeing the match happen. The eldest Kaname daughter pressed for more details on Lord Kuchiki. Kuchiki's sister tried to request that Homura teach her poetry based on the verses that she had composed. Homura feared that whatever emotion she felt for Lord Kuchiki now was not her own. In addition, this courtship did not make her any happier, when she felt it should.
When Lord Kuchiki next wrote, he was at the capital and thus used his own servant as an intermediary. Despite his distance, Homura made sure to retreat far behind the curtain provided to the ladies, so that all those loyal to Kuchiki would not be there to sway her sentiment.
It was a thoughtful poem:
"The capital's rain makes me ponder
If absence like rain has dimmed
The fire of your heart, while the fire in
Mine seems to burns all the stronger"
Homura was touched that he had thought of her, despite her lack of commitment. The paper was the official paper from the capital, tied off with a leafy branch that had slightly soaked the paper. Both the branch and the paper smelled of rain, an elusive yet gorgeous scent. Perhaps that was why he had not opted for flowers, so as not to drown the scent.
On a whim, Homura used the paper from a parasol that no longer matched the clothes in her wardrobe, and wrote upon it:
"Far reaching the capital's rain must be
To touch me here, yet even if it were
It would find itself thwarted by
The far greater reach of your words"
Lord Kuchiki was pleased by such beautiful words, even if the material they were delivered upon was unconventional, and he kept the poem with him as he went about his official business. His reply must be just as unique, he decided.
He settled upon it as he began to prepare for his return, writing:
"My words reach over you, while
Your words reel me in, I must follow
The winds of your writing brush
An uncertain compass to home"
The Lord used paper that the Korean ambassador had just brought and that the Lord had yet to purchase for himself. He tied the missive off with the cords that tied back a ladies' palanquin.
"The Lord is adopting Homura's whimsy!" tittered the servants, especially those who had thought Homura's use of her parasol had been rather strange. But Homura appreciated the unique touch by Lord Kuchiki, as well as the implicit hint that her note had been appreciated. She doubted that her note would reach him before he returned, but she sent it off just the same:
"If my writing brush be uncertain,
The swallow should follow then:
The scent of sakura upon the curtains
The slow thawing of winter to spring"
Her note reached Byakuya just before he stepped into his city, and he was pleased to see the warming of her affections to him. Even her paper was tinged pink, and she had taken the effort to locate sakura perfume that just slightly differed from his own.
Her reference of curtains had led to the Kuchiki household speculating that she would admit Lord Kuchiki at any moment. It had meant to be the opposite - a reference as to how Lord Kuchiki usually saw her. Homura resolved to stave him off with a few more poems.
Yet when Lord Kuchiki returned, he did not call upon Homura. Speculation then turned to whether Homura had offended him with her talk of curtains. Homura had no choice but to wait. Only his numerous gifts from the capital assured Homura that he had not forgotten her.
It was again a rainy day when he wrote to her:
"Strong is the scent of sakura in the rain
The guiding sign that brought me home
Yet the wind of the writing brush is missing
I wonder if the wind may be moved?"
Homura, unhappy that he had made her wait so long after the effort she had put into her last missive, took longer to reply. But Kuchiki's sister was watching her with much interest, and so Homura wrote:
"If the wind blows too strongly
Spring may freeze over to winter again
Without your words, I must rely on
Curtains to shield me from the rain"
The Lord was more prompt with this reply:
"Far better than curtains
Or the wavering writing brush
Is the certainty of the swallow
In flight, unwavering on his path"
If curtains upset the servants, Lord Kuchiki's directness upset them more. "He may as well come here this moment!" they declared.
But Homura was smiling as she folded the note away. An assurance was not looked for, but it made her more forgiving of how busy a person he was. Her reply was much faster this time, even though she had taken more care in the selection of her paper:
"Certain is the swallow on the wing
To where he will build his nest
Each twig, each branch he gradually adds
To build in the eaves of this house a nest"
She had tied to the missive a branch bearing a half green half pink bud. Lord Kuchiki smiled at this sign of their relationship, and the reminder that while he had made his intent clear, he had to work upon it.
The Lord sent more missives thereafter, although he was a busy man and there were lapses in his correspondences. However, neither was Homura a girl that required much maintenance, and the letters relating to his immediate return had been an exception due to her accidental faux pas. So they traded the occasion poem, and developed even more quirks of their own - instead of flowers, they sent twigs of scented wood to each other, sometimes with flowers, sometimes with leaves, but mostly without. It was a good reminder that their relationship was like building a nest.
"But how long will they take to build their nest?" wondered some of the servants, especially those who had been sure that their Lord would act upon Homura's hint of curtains. They did not understand the reason why Lord Kuchiki and Homura would take things slow.
Lord Kuchiki did not know of the rumours circulating regarding himself, until a careless comment by a visitor suggested that he was married. Piqued, he withdrew to his work while he considered the problem. Hesitating too long would cast shadows on her character, while acting soon would suggest that the Lord cared for rumours.
He was no longer even able to find solace in his work. He called for his sister to play on her instrument, for of late she had shown advancement in music, and it pleased him to hear that she had progressed.
He informed her of her progress, and his sister was pleased to hear the praise. "But you have Homura to thank for the improvement," she said. "She may not speak of it but she is a great musician."
"Is that so." The Lord plucked the strings of the instrument that his sister had set down. A thought occurred to him. "Has she taught you to play duets?"
Kuchiki's sister was easy flustered by the great man, having been adopted at a young age, and so it was great surprise and trepidation that she answered that she had not. But the Lord knew that his sister was young, and still had time to learn. Perhaps this was a means to draw himself and Homura closer without having to press her to submit to him so quickly, or to enter into a relationship when he himself still often thought of his late wife.
When Lord Kuchiki sent for Homura this time, she remarked to herself, "Again he is concerned about his sister's education." But it was said without much rancour, for while Homura and Kuchiki's sister were not friends, she found Kuchiki's sister a good student.
She brought her instrument as requested, and was surprised to find Lord Kuchiki tuning his own. "I discovered that my sister has not learned to play duets, and I am afraid I am rather unpractised of late. Would you oblige by playing with me?"
"Couched in this request, how could I refuse?" Homura sat down to tune her instrument as well. "But a request by the Lord to play for his enjoyment would not have been rejected either."
The Lord was embarrassed by this allusion to his roundabout request, but it was also a trait he appreciated in a woman. He was also pleased by Homura's musical accomplishment. Homura also wondered at the Lord's quality of playing, for it was already advanced despite his neglect of his art, and wished that she could hear him play at the height of his skill.
So they might have slowly continued towards a happy conclusion of their relationship, if not for Homura's fortunes taking a turn south again. For the eldest Kaname daughter, her most treasured friend, had fallen sick, and even now was said to be haunted by a malevolent spirit.
Upon hearing the news, Homura decided that she must return to take care of Kaname's daughter. She had not truly let go of her former mistress, and sometimes she daydreamed of returning to the old days.
As reluctant as Lord Kuchiki was to send Homura into danger, he also knew that she would resent him if he held her back. So it was with a heavy heart that he arranged for her travel, although he made his displeasure clear. The young official was too worried to hold his old grudges against her, and so welcomed her back to see to the care of his wife.
Homura toiled day and night to treat her dearest, and slowly the eldest Kaname daughter recovered. But Lord Kuchiki's worst fears came to pass - Homura fell prey to the same sickness that had plagued her friend.
Homura thought she would have all she needed with her childhood friend taking care of her, but she found that her thoughts turned frequently to Lord Kuchiki. "This is not right, for he would have recriminations as I went against his wishes," said Homura.
"But he let you treat me in the end," pointed out the eldest Kaname daughter. "Is his respect for your wishes not a sign that he cares for you?"
Homura turned to the flowering tree outside of her window. It was already late in spring, and the petals were falling. "I have everything I need here," she said.
"Oh Homura," said the eldest Kaname daughter. "You have to let me go. I have to be with everyone else now." She took the red ribbons that she used to play with in her youth, and gave them to Homura. "This is a token of the memories that we will always have," she said, and pressed them into Homura's hands.
Homura clung on to them as her fever rose and fell and rose again. Finally she pulled herself out of bed, and asked for good quality paper. On it, she wrote these lines:
"Red are the memories in my hands
Red are my eyes that do not see you
Will the swallow still build his nest
In a house whose beauty is crumbling?"
A missive from Homura when he had sent none surprised the Lord, but also worried him. For this deviation from decorum did not bode well, and even the servants were sensitive to the pressing needs of Homura's situation and did not cast aspirations on her character. His worries were confirmed when he read Homura's poem.
"Is it my luck that the woman I love always dies?" he asked himself.
He returned with:
"Let red give way to white
Let what is crumbling be rebuilt
As long as the house still stands
This nest is stable, unswayed"
This time, he attached a leafy twig with a flower just beginning to bloom, so that when it reached her, it would be in full bloom and full of life.
This sensitivity to detail was appreciated by Homura when the letter reached her. The eldest Kaname daughter saw to it that the flower was placed in a vase next to Homura's bed.
"I believe the Lord does not only have a passing fancy," said the eldest Kaname daughter. "You should consider his suit more seriously."
With this approval, the former doubts that Homura had about the Lord melted away, and she was keen to return to him.
She conveyed her new sentiments in this poem:
"White is the blank paper, a new start
Black is the ink from my brush, a new sentiment
White is the new wood for the house, a new start
Red is the blush of new paint, a new sentiment"
The Lord was pleased to hear that his affections for her were so well received. However, Homura still had her doubts. Could she really shake off her bad luck? After all, her parents had died at a young age, and everything she longed for was often taken from her. Now that she had shown Lord Kuchiki her favour, would he not be taken from her too?
The eldest Kuchiki daughter sensed Homura's resolve wavering, and she implored her husband to write to the Lord. "If it is convenient for him, let him come to reside in our city. There is only so much that words can convey."
To please his wife, the young official made arrangements for Lord Kuchiki to visit, putting the guest wing in the best order that it had ever been. The Lord was surprised at this request, but he did see the logic of the eldest Kaname daughter. On a whim, he brought his koto along with him. When he arrived, he went to a garden near to where Homura was resting, and played a few notes of a song they both liked.
Homura had been informed of Lord Kuchiki's arrival. In her fever, however, it seemed like too good a dream, and she had the same thoughts about the music she was hearing. But illusion or otherwise, the urge for her to play her instrument to match his grew too strong.
She conveyed her desire to the eldest Kaname daughter, and her childhood friend encouraged her to pick up her instrument and play along. As soon as she did so, Homura knew it was truly Lord Kuchiki who was outside. She shed tears that he had taken the effort to visit her.
"Indeed, you have nothing more to fear from him," said the eldest Kaname daughter. "He is far more true than other men in this era!"
Secure in the Lord Kuchiki's devotion, Homura's fortunes and health both improved, and soon she was ready to return with Lord Kuchiki. Now the idea of him visiting her was no longer a concern, but a desired conclusion. Lord Kuchiki too was no longer hesitant about Homura becoming his wife. He had been reminded that there were perils to waiting too long.
So they set out on their happy journey homewards, and if the Lord Kuchiki followed Homura to her quarters upon her return, everyone agreed that it was the most satisfactory conclusion to this suit. The eldest Kaname daughter and her husband were also pleased to receive the wedding candy a few months later. Kuchiki's sister too was often treated to the happy sight of her beloved brother and Homura trading poems and playing music long into the bright moonlight.
Omg this is such schmoop but AT LEAST I FINISHED IT. YAY FOR FINISHING THINGS.
Anyway, I came up with a Heian version of ByaHomu. The original version was Cinderella like, which after a bit of research I'm not sure it will fly. So this is the revamped version which loses some of the original I feel. I also have no idea what the convention is for the English version of Heian poetry, so I just wrote with the same subject matter but with none of the syllabic conventions.
There was once a girl who was born into a noble family. The mother died shortly after the child was born, and when she was ten years of age her father also passed away, leaving the child with no support in the world. The girl was then adopted by Kaname, a close family friend, and became the playmate of the family's eldest daughter. No two girls were closer. As the eldest daughter grew, the girl became her lady-in-waiting. As a sign of how valued she was by the family, Kaname gave her the name Homura.
The eldest Kaname daughter eventually married a young official, and Homura followed her to her new household. Here again her fortunes took a downwards turn. The young groom was not happy that the eldest Kaname daughter preferred the company of Homura to himself, and even when he approached his young wife Homura was often asked to remain in the room with the both of them. He should be the sole person that his wife should lavish attention upon.
Finally he said to his wife, "If Homura is to wed and make a good match, it would be better for her to attend to someone who has more social company. I have a friend who needs a lady-in-waiting for his sister. Would it not be better for her to attend to my friend's sister instead?"
The young official had chosen the right words to petition his wife, for the eldest Kaname daughter wanted her friend to experience the happiness of being a wife. So she agreed to her husband's suggestion.
Homura did not want to leave her young mistress at all, but did not want to make things difficult by asking her mistress to take her side. So it came to pass that Homura left the service of the Kanames and was taken to the Kuchiki household.
(in the original version I had Madoka's husband was more of a dick and had her transferred as a mere servant, but I don't think that is possible)
For all the young official's promises, the Kuchikis were not as sociable as he made them out to be. For Lord Kuchiki had lost his wife at a young age, and was generally cool in nature. He had few visitors over, and held even fewer parties. His sister had few friends as well, and maintained a respectful distance from her much older brother. Because she did not know Homura as well as the eldest Kaname daughter did, the two were not as close. This made Homura miserable, though you would not have known it from the bright cheerful letters that she sent back to the eldest Kaname daughter. Again, she did not want to make her previous mistress upset, and so she kept her emotions to herself.
The only bright spot in Homura's life was that the Kuchikis had a gorgeous study, the books and décor within speaking to Lord Kuchiki's impeccable taste. Homura enjoyed spending time in the study, and it also suited her purpose of tutoring Kuchiki's sister. The only thing that Homura could not understand about the study was that Lord Kuchiki kept several old and worn calligraphy brushes in his collection, when the rest had perfect and even bristles. When she asked Kuchiki's sister, she was not aware of the worn brushes.
Here Homura made an error, for she threw away the brushes without consulting anyone else. The young Lord noticed the brushes were missing that very night, and made enquires as to what had happened to them.
"I removed them," Homura admitted, "for they were not in keeping with the aesthetic of the study."
"They were of sentimental importance," and the Lord Kuchiki, already cold, grew even colder in Homura's view.
"She has gotten into trouble," said the servants of the house. Several among them were pleased because Homura was far too talented and beautiful to avoid envy. "Those belonged to the previous lady of the house."
But Homura was a kind girl, and she herself went to look through the discarded items of the house. When she located the brushes she cleaned them with her own hand. Then she presented the brushes to Lord Kuchiki.
"I apologise for my hastiness. I would have fixed the brushes too, but I was afraid there would be sentimental reasons for leaving them in this condition."
Lord Kuchiki took them without any thanks, for the brushes should not have been disturbed in the first place. However, he recognised the effort that had gone into their restoration. Thereafter he looked at the brushes often, and if he thought of Homura as often as the previous lady of the house when he looked upon them, he did not share this sentiment with anyone.
Eventually he called upon Homura again, and this time his pretext was, "It occurred to me that you are tutoring my sister, when I have no idea of your qualifications. I would like to see an example of your penmanship."
It was a very intimate request he had made, but it was also based in fact. Homura pondered, before writing the characters of Kuchiki's family name.
When Lord Kuchiki saw her writing, it piqued his interest. It was written in a good hand, with artistic merit and grace. The paper she had selected was of a fine grain to complement her brushstrokes. "Yet she did not write me a line of poetry, even one copied from a book," he thought. "Is she so concerned to be above showing any amorous intent?"
If his thoughts had not been in that direction before, they certainly were now. He wondered what sort of lines she would compose if he sent off a note to her.
But Lord Kuchiki was also proud, and he hesitated to show interest in one under his direct employ. One might say the lady had no choice, and he wished to be above board in all matters.
He wrote to the young official, asking for more details on Homura's background than what he had provided in recommending Homura as a lady-in-waiting. But the young official did not know more. He passed on Kuchiki's question to his wife, who naturally informed Homura of the Lord's interest.
Homura had not yet made up her mind about whether she wished to be courted by Lord Kuchiki, and so she made a bold request to Kuchiki's sister. "If any notes are passed to you or your staff from Lord Kuchiki, may I request that you destroy them without handing them to me?"
But for all that Kuchiki's sister was distant from her own brother, she was very fond of him, and so she informed him of Homura's bizarre request. Now it would be against Kuchiki's pride not to send her a poem, and so he had his sister bear Homura this missive,
"To close the shutters on the swallow's nest
When he has yet to charm you with his song -
Will the winds of your writing brush not
Turn to warmer thoughts for this swallow?"
The Lord Kuchiki was well known for his brilliant calligraphy. While he was unimaginative in his use of paper, his signature scent was the sakura which he used even out of season. "How amazing our Lord is!" declared the servants, as whispers of his poem reached them.
Even Homura was moved by such a poem, while she recognised the rebuke regarding his sister.
She returned with:
"The winds of my brush cannot compare to
Those worn into winter trees by emotion
Neither are they warm enough to serve
One, how could they serve two?"
On a whim, she tied her own brush to the missive, and apologised to Kuchiki's sister. "I am sorry for involving you in my affairs, for now he has included you in this exchange."
"I do not mind," said Kuchiki's sister, for she enjoyed watching others compose poetry, although she had concerns about the quality of her own. "I wish you would be kinder to him."
Homura only blushed, and placed the missive in the box for delivery.
Kuchiki was charmed by the gift of the brush, which Homura had brought with her from the Kaname household and thus was different from his own. He sent along another gift with this next missive:
"Winter belongs to its own season
As does spring, a spring that shakes
Off the snow of winter to give way
To new buds I will warm with my hands"
Homura blushed even more at the prettiness of the phrase, as well as at the delicate silk handkerchief embroidered with sakura blossoms. Her missive was still cautious, but some of Byakuya's warmth had slipped into her words.
"Spring, flowers and fire all
Grow warm, but in their own time
Will you kindly provide
That slow and constant care?"
Understanding that Homura needed time, Byakuya sent off no more missives.
But certainly both the Lord and Homura were now interested, for they sensed in each other a sensitivity that was much appreciated and complimentary. The Lord wondered when it would be appropriate to write again, while Homura was questioned by herself and parties interested in seeing the match happen. The eldest Kaname daughter pressed for more details on Lord Kuchiki. Kuchiki's sister tried to request that Homura teach her poetry based on the verses that she had composed. Homura feared that whatever emotion she felt for Lord Kuchiki now was not her own. In addition, this courtship did not make her any happier, when she felt it should.
When Lord Kuchiki next wrote, he was at the capital and thus used his own servant as an intermediary. Despite his distance, Homura made sure to retreat far behind the curtain provided to the ladies, so that all those loyal to Kuchiki would not be there to sway her sentiment.
It was a thoughtful poem:
"The capital's rain makes me ponder
If absence like rain has dimmed
The fire of your heart, while the fire in
Mine seems to burns all the stronger"
Homura was touched that he had thought of her, despite her lack of commitment. The paper was the official paper from the capital, tied off with a leafy branch that had slightly soaked the paper. Both the branch and the paper smelled of rain, an elusive yet gorgeous scent. Perhaps that was why he had not opted for flowers, so as not to drown the scent.
On a whim, Homura used the paper from a parasol that no longer matched the clothes in her wardrobe, and wrote upon it:
"Far reaching the capital's rain must be
To touch me here, yet even if it were
It would find itself thwarted by
The far greater reach of your words"
Lord Kuchiki was pleased by such beautiful words, even if the material they were delivered upon was unconventional, and he kept the poem with him as he went about his official business. His reply must be just as unique, he decided.
He settled upon it as he began to prepare for his return, writing:
"My words reach over you, while
Your words reel me in, I must follow
The winds of your writing brush
An uncertain compass to home"
The Lord used paper that the Korean ambassador had just brought and that the Lord had yet to purchase for himself. He tied the missive off with the cords that tied back a ladies' palanquin.
"The Lord is adopting Homura's whimsy!" tittered the servants, especially those who had thought Homura's use of her parasol had been rather strange. But Homura appreciated the unique touch by Lord Kuchiki, as well as the implicit hint that her note had been appreciated. She doubted that her note would reach him before he returned, but she sent it off just the same:
"If my writing brush be uncertain,
The swallow should follow then:
The scent of sakura upon the curtains
The slow thawing of winter to spring"
Her note reached Byakuya just before he stepped into his city, and he was pleased to see the warming of her affections to him. Even her paper was tinged pink, and she had taken the effort to locate sakura perfume that just slightly differed from his own.
Her reference of curtains had led to the Kuchiki household speculating that she would admit Lord Kuchiki at any moment. It had meant to be the opposite - a reference as to how Lord Kuchiki usually saw her. Homura resolved to stave him off with a few more poems.
Yet when Lord Kuchiki returned, he did not call upon Homura. Speculation then turned to whether Homura had offended him with her talk of curtains. Homura had no choice but to wait. Only his numerous gifts from the capital assured Homura that he had not forgotten her.
It was again a rainy day when he wrote to her:
"Strong is the scent of sakura in the rain
The guiding sign that brought me home
Yet the wind of the writing brush is missing
I wonder if the wind may be moved?"
Homura, unhappy that he had made her wait so long after the effort she had put into her last missive, took longer to reply. But Kuchiki's sister was watching her with much interest, and so Homura wrote:
"If the wind blows too strongly
Spring may freeze over to winter again
Without your words, I must rely on
Curtains to shield me from the rain"
The Lord was more prompt with this reply:
"Far better than curtains
Or the wavering writing brush
Is the certainty of the swallow
In flight, unwavering on his path"
If curtains upset the servants, Lord Kuchiki's directness upset them more. "He may as well come here this moment!" they declared.
But Homura was smiling as she folded the note away. An assurance was not looked for, but it made her more forgiving of how busy a person he was. Her reply was much faster this time, even though she had taken more care in the selection of her paper:
"Certain is the swallow on the wing
To where he will build his nest
Each twig, each branch he gradually adds
To build in the eaves of this house a nest"
She had tied to the missive a branch bearing a half green half pink bud. Lord Kuchiki smiled at this sign of their relationship, and the reminder that while he had made his intent clear, he had to work upon it.
The Lord sent more missives thereafter, although he was a busy man and there were lapses in his correspondences. However, neither was Homura a girl that required much maintenance, and the letters relating to his immediate return had been an exception due to her accidental faux pas. So they traded the occasion poem, and developed even more quirks of their own - instead of flowers, they sent twigs of scented wood to each other, sometimes with flowers, sometimes with leaves, but mostly without. It was a good reminder that their relationship was like building a nest.
"But how long will they take to build their nest?" wondered some of the servants, especially those who had been sure that their Lord would act upon Homura's hint of curtains. They did not understand the reason why Lord Kuchiki and Homura would take things slow.
Lord Kuchiki did not know of the rumours circulating regarding himself, until a careless comment by a visitor suggested that he was married. Piqued, he withdrew to his work while he considered the problem. Hesitating too long would cast shadows on her character, while acting soon would suggest that the Lord cared for rumours.
He was no longer even able to find solace in his work. He called for his sister to play on her instrument, for of late she had shown advancement in music, and it pleased him to hear that she had progressed.
He informed her of her progress, and his sister was pleased to hear the praise. "But you have Homura to thank for the improvement," she said. "She may not speak of it but she is a great musician."
"Is that so." The Lord plucked the strings of the instrument that his sister had set down. A thought occurred to him. "Has she taught you to play duets?"
Kuchiki's sister was easy flustered by the great man, having been adopted at a young age, and so it was great surprise and trepidation that she answered that she had not. But the Lord knew that his sister was young, and still had time to learn. Perhaps this was a means to draw himself and Homura closer without having to press her to submit to him so quickly, or to enter into a relationship when he himself still often thought of his late wife.
When Lord Kuchiki sent for Homura this time, she remarked to herself, "Again he is concerned about his sister's education." But it was said without much rancour, for while Homura and Kuchiki's sister were not friends, she found Kuchiki's sister a good student.
She brought her instrument as requested, and was surprised to find Lord Kuchiki tuning his own. "I discovered that my sister has not learned to play duets, and I am afraid I am rather unpractised of late. Would you oblige by playing with me?"
"Couched in this request, how could I refuse?" Homura sat down to tune her instrument as well. "But a request by the Lord to play for his enjoyment would not have been rejected either."
The Lord was embarrassed by this allusion to his roundabout request, but it was also a trait he appreciated in a woman. He was also pleased by Homura's musical accomplishment. Homura also wondered at the Lord's quality of playing, for it was already advanced despite his neglect of his art, and wished that she could hear him play at the height of his skill.
So they might have slowly continued towards a happy conclusion of their relationship, if not for Homura's fortunes taking a turn south again. For the eldest Kaname daughter, her most treasured friend, had fallen sick, and even now was said to be haunted by a malevolent spirit.
Upon hearing the news, Homura decided that she must return to take care of Kaname's daughter. She had not truly let go of her former mistress, and sometimes she daydreamed of returning to the old days.
As reluctant as Lord Kuchiki was to send Homura into danger, he also knew that she would resent him if he held her back. So it was with a heavy heart that he arranged for her travel, although he made his displeasure clear. The young official was too worried to hold his old grudges against her, and so welcomed her back to see to the care of his wife.
Homura toiled day and night to treat her dearest, and slowly the eldest Kaname daughter recovered. But Lord Kuchiki's worst fears came to pass - Homura fell prey to the same sickness that had plagued her friend.
Homura thought she would have all she needed with her childhood friend taking care of her, but she found that her thoughts turned frequently to Lord Kuchiki. "This is not right, for he would have recriminations as I went against his wishes," said Homura.
"But he let you treat me in the end," pointed out the eldest Kaname daughter. "Is his respect for your wishes not a sign that he cares for you?"
Homura turned to the flowering tree outside of her window. It was already late in spring, and the petals were falling. "I have everything I need here," she said.
"Oh Homura," said the eldest Kaname daughter. "You have to let me go. I have to be with everyone else now." She took the red ribbons that she used to play with in her youth, and gave them to Homura. "This is a token of the memories that we will always have," she said, and pressed them into Homura's hands.
Homura clung on to them as her fever rose and fell and rose again. Finally she pulled herself out of bed, and asked for good quality paper. On it, she wrote these lines:
"Red are the memories in my hands
Red are my eyes that do not see you
Will the swallow still build his nest
In a house whose beauty is crumbling?"
A missive from Homura when he had sent none surprised the Lord, but also worried him. For this deviation from decorum did not bode well, and even the servants were sensitive to the pressing needs of Homura's situation and did not cast aspirations on her character. His worries were confirmed when he read Homura's poem.
"Is it my luck that the woman I love always dies?" he asked himself.
He returned with:
"Let red give way to white
Let what is crumbling be rebuilt
As long as the house still stands
This nest is stable, unswayed"
This time, he attached a leafy twig with a flower just beginning to bloom, so that when it reached her, it would be in full bloom and full of life.
This sensitivity to detail was appreciated by Homura when the letter reached her. The eldest Kaname daughter saw to it that the flower was placed in a vase next to Homura's bed.
"I believe the Lord does not only have a passing fancy," said the eldest Kaname daughter. "You should consider his suit more seriously."
With this approval, the former doubts that Homura had about the Lord melted away, and she was keen to return to him.
She conveyed her new sentiments in this poem:
"White is the blank paper, a new start
Black is the ink from my brush, a new sentiment
White is the new wood for the house, a new start
Red is the blush of new paint, a new sentiment"
The Lord was pleased to hear that his affections for her were so well received. However, Homura still had her doubts. Could she really shake off her bad luck? After all, her parents had died at a young age, and everything she longed for was often taken from her. Now that she had shown Lord Kuchiki her favour, would he not be taken from her too?
The eldest Kuchiki daughter sensed Homura's resolve wavering, and she implored her husband to write to the Lord. "If it is convenient for him, let him come to reside in our city. There is only so much that words can convey."
To please his wife, the young official made arrangements for Lord Kuchiki to visit, putting the guest wing in the best order that it had ever been. The Lord was surprised at this request, but he did see the logic of the eldest Kaname daughter. On a whim, he brought his koto along with him. When he arrived, he went to a garden near to where Homura was resting, and played a few notes of a song they both liked.
Homura had been informed of Lord Kuchiki's arrival. In her fever, however, it seemed like too good a dream, and she had the same thoughts about the music she was hearing. But illusion or otherwise, the urge for her to play her instrument to match his grew too strong.
She conveyed her desire to the eldest Kaname daughter, and her childhood friend encouraged her to pick up her instrument and play along. As soon as she did so, Homura knew it was truly Lord Kuchiki who was outside. She shed tears that he had taken the effort to visit her.
"Indeed, you have nothing more to fear from him," said the eldest Kaname daughter. "He is far more true than other men in this era!"
Secure in the Lord Kuchiki's devotion, Homura's fortunes and health both improved, and soon she was ready to return with Lord Kuchiki. Now the idea of him visiting her was no longer a concern, but a desired conclusion. Lord Kuchiki too was no longer hesitant about Homura becoming his wife. He had been reminded that there were perils to waiting too long.
So they set out on their happy journey homewards, and if the Lord Kuchiki followed Homura to her quarters upon her return, everyone agreed that it was the most satisfactory conclusion to this suit. The eldest Kaname daughter and her husband were also pleased to receive the wedding candy a few months later. Kuchiki's sister too was often treated to the happy sight of her beloved brother and Homura trading poems and playing music long into the bright moonlight.
Omg this is such schmoop but AT LEAST I FINISHED IT. YAY FOR FINISHING THINGS.