Work Text:
Silently a flower blooms,
in silence it falls away;
yet here now, at this moment, at this place,
the whole of the flower, the whole of
the world is blooming.
This is the talk of the flower, the truth
of the blossom:
the glory of eternal life is fully shining here.
By Zenkei Shibayama
❀
Wisteria falls to his feet, one at a time, its trademark purple filling the land beyond his home. It falls so delicately that it feels like a purple snow, like a butterfly’s wing when it has dried and flutters for the first time in its renewed life.
Spring welcomes the yearly celebration of life, marked by flowers, food and festivals. In a kingdom a few hundred miles away, young children celebrate and eat carnival themed foods. Clementines and preserved sugared persimmons fill the tiny hands of pink cheeked children.
Yet the celebration is oddly bittersweet, perhaps even soured by what’s long gone and cannot be replaced. Koushi knows the bittersweet taste of green tea, the kind that lingers but not for too long and can easily be replaced by the sweetness of berries. Koushi tips the ceramic bowl into the drinking cup and takes his time to savour the flavour.
He remembers how his partner used to pluck the green tea leaves. One gentle twist of the wrist to pluck them off the stem, careful enough to preserve its flavour in the leaf. He remembers him taking the afternoon to dry the leaves so carefully that Koushi always made sure to treat his burns after. And yet, nothing tasted sweeter than the love of his husband.
Wisteria continues to snow around him, the overgrown tree tall and overarching. There are days where Koushi wishes things were different. Spring is Daichi’s favourite time of the year, because all of his favourite spring foods were in abundance, and the colours made Daichi feel like a child again. But with the untimely passing of his husband and nothing left to his own name, Koushi chose to accept his fate and remain alive forever to wallow in self pity.
Daichi was a beautiful being. Growing up together as childhood best friends meant that they were often attached at the hip, but of course it came with hidden fear that one day, they would leave each other. Daichi realized, as soon as they turned eighteen, that he had been in love with Koushi all this time. Little did he realize Koushi had loved Daichi since his youth, and dreamt every day and night. One thing led to another, and soon their wedding bestowed upon both of them the title of husbands wedded for eternity.
But of course, immortals aren't immune to death. War broke out in the capital of the mortal city they were living in at the time, and Koushi had lost Daichi in the crowd. He remembers feeling his heart sink when their hands were forced apart, unable to find each others’ comforting touch in the crowd.
Koushi knows that with death came the judgement for all immortals. He can only hope Daichi’s pure, loving soul ended in the highest level, for he deserved to rest peacefully.
Koushi did not cry when the knights told him they could not find his body. He simply knew Daichi’s body had turned to golden ashes and risen, carrying his loving, giving soul to elysium where he would wait for Koushi to return home. For all he knew, Daichi may have died saving people as best as he could. Sometimes Koushi had to remind him he wasn’t invisible to death, and Daichi would shrug it off. It takes too much to get rid of me.
It has been a hundred years since. Wisteria blooms and falls with every cycle.
When he left the town, he didn’t stop with his horse, until he came to the outskirts of the city and found a wisteria tree so overgrown and big that the branches physically covered all the sun in the day when it was in full bloom. It was the first time Koushi allowed himself to stop, breathe, and mourn the loss of his husband.
And so Koushi built a life of his own here.
Only a few other immortals lived among the people and knew of Koushi and Daichi. One of them was Tooru, who occasionally came by on his horse and gave him fine cheese and preserved hams for variety. Hajime often tagged along too, offering to go out and help Koushi cut down wood for fire in the winter. Koushi appreciated them both, their efforts often helping Koushi forget the ache even for just a few hours, allowing them to smile.
The chair that sat alone at the four person table, draped with white cloth in honour of his memory, was reserved for the ghost of his lover, his presence all around in the four walls of the home Koushi built with time and memory.
A lone wisteria falls into his porcelain teacup filled with matcha. It doesn’t lose its purple, only loses its structure in water.
Daichi loved wisteria trees. Every spring afternoon the lovebirds spend their time along the riverbank, watching the falling wisteria litter the lush greenery. Children pick them up by the spoonfuls and toss them in the air as if snow, their hair covered in wisteria and cherry blossom. There were talks of fostering orphaned children from sick or terminally ill parents, and Koushi loved the spark in Daichi’s eyes when the man held his hand as they stroll.
Koushi delicately removes the wisteria from his teacup and places it by the matcha mixing bowl, its core drying and showing its natural beauty.
The war lasted years before any conclusion was reached. By then too many people died, and Koushi could not bear to watch the images of death, he still thinks about them every single night decades later. He remembers helping with the damaged and the poor, seeing the scars that litter their cheeks and arms, the deconstructed houses broken apart around a loving family, a destroyed town in the wake of greed.
Koushi had spent a year helping in the child’s hospital, a promise he made to the immortals to do good for the mortals. He fed and cleaned every child that came and went, every single soul that was abandoned at the steps of their humble compound, blew out every tealight candle on each recovering child’s bedside when they were asleep.
He remembers one of the children with starry eyes and a galaxy within those soft irises, innocent and pure, but his mother too sick to get out of bed, and his father by her bedside. The poor starry-eyed child had been mildly sick too, but with Koushi’s intensive care he recovered and soon could get out of bed to play with the child in his neighbouring bed, a soft tangerine child who held the sun in his every action.
He remembers every soul he’s helped to heal. He also remembers those he couldn’t save despite their best efforts to.
Koushi listens to the wind sing. The gentle wisterias come right off its vines, and falls on Koushi like a soft, silken outer layer, like Daichi’s warm hug at night as they dance in the living room, the fireplace glowing and their cups of warm chamomile forgotten. Wooden planks creak under their feet in reminder of their much needed repair, and the windows need to be cleaned. But what they have is perfect, little things be damned.
When the sun begins to fall beyond the horizon, casting pink and orange streaks, Koushi decides its time to pack up and get cosy, maybe light a fire and read a book. He picks up the old table and gets to his feet, feels the wind in his hair as he takes in the view. Daichi adored this view with every fibre of his being; they had dreamt of living a life like this. Koushi remembers when Daichi had brought it up the first time, the idea of building a little cottage.
That memory is distant, yet it felt like it was just yesterday. It isn’t a bad memory. It’s just stained with loss instead of purple wisteria every spring. How Koushi longs to touch Daichi’s beautiful face again and whisper every word of love as they lay in bed. He aches, yearns.
Every footstep back to the house is soft and paced to remember what it felt like walking with his husband. The wisteria will continue to fall until its branches are bare and the season is gone, but Koushi will continue to love his long gone husband. In memoriam, the life of an immortal taken but never forgotten by his fellow immortals. Koushi remembers his warm hug as he steps into the house, the fireplace bare but filled with every single memory. He laughs about things he cried about in the past. The memories once tainted dark are now happy and comforting. And with time, his heart mends.
And maybe if he meets Daichi again, he’ll hold him just a bit tighter.