M.Adrianna (une_moineau) wrote in tofu_platter,
M.Adrianna
une_moineau
tofu_platter

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Correspondence - Prologue

Correspondence
By: Maria-chan
A/n: Letters written, never sent… But very much acknowledged.
(AU, Fuji. Atobe, Ryoma, Tezuka)

Prologue


Dear Kunimitsu

Once again, I take to my brush and ink. For once, maybe I won’t be troubling you with my problems. Ryoma is doing well, you’d be proud of him.

The weather has been surprisingly wonderful lately, or as co-operative as it could be in winter. It has been snowing ceaselessly for the past week, but it’s been gentle and a pleasure to watch. The result it has on the landscape is also wonderful. Everything is covered with a layer of white that makes everything shine. I cannot seem to stop taking photographs.

It’s in times like this, where I have so much to say, that I reconsider my preference of brush to pen, but I find it more comfortable. The ink, though, seems to be rather difficult to handle in cold weather. Ryoma says that I own a camera and watch tv and use the computer, so what difference would using a pen make?

I tell him that sometimes, there’s a need to preserve a bit of the past.

He simply scoffs, but I know that he understands. Just the other day, he stumbled upon my old photographs, but he didn’t say anything, just looked at me and mentioned how I didn’t seem to age over dinner. I think he knows.

The snow reminds me of a lot of other things as well. Like your precious mountains; the snow-covered Matterhorn that you always had a picture of. It reminds me of childhood times, and of times where I was growing up, and of course, the time where you brought me to Germany. It was a week that I would never forget, not even a single detail. I can still remember the shade of red the hotel attendants wore; can you believe that?

I feel so… free. Not free, but perhaps less restricted. Just the other day, Ryoma actually agreed to participate in a tea ceremony. Afterwards, we had a talk, and I remember telling him about how people so easily saw things as “black” and “white” and how people obsessed over perfection… In a highly perfect world.

Do you remember that speech you gave me? I regret not being to remember it exactly as you said it. Times like those- more often than not- I wish that I could somehow hear your voice again. But I know you lead a different life now, most likely with wife and children of your own.

It’s selfish of me, but I can’t help but wish that you could come back to Japan. To see me at least one more time. If not, at least let me catch a glimpse of you .I wonder, sometimes, if you look different from the last time I saw you. For all I know, you could actually be in Japan, and this letter is addressed to a non-existent residence.

It doesn’t matter.

I’ll keep my silence.

Forever and More,
Fuji Syuusuke
January 24th 2000


Frowning, tired hands looked at the envelope the letter arrived in, one more time. The stamp clearly said June 15, 2005; there was no mistake in the postal service, this was no delayed letter. But… the recipient, the address, the letter…

Somehow, he felt that this letter needed a reply and some clarifications.

It had opened up a lot of closed rooms in his memories, and created new ones for this mystery to occupy. How did this Fuji know Kunimitsu, and refer to him in such a familiar manner? Somehow, he felt as if it wasn’t meant to be sent… And definitely not meant for other eyes to see.

Turning to his desk, a new letter was written, to be sent off and received within the next week.

Neither writer knew what was slowly beginning; the start of what could be an end to plenty of things.


Tbc.
Tags: correspondence 1
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