• The child without a name grew up
    To be the hand

    Kiku Honda sighed, staring listlessly into the distance, one hand behind him holding him up, the other slowly and gently running through the hair of the boy whose head rested upon his lap, a cool breeze was blowing over both. It went past them and across the hill they were sitting upon, causing the sleeves of his navy blue kimono to flutter in the wind. It was peaceful, quiet, beautiful in the light of the sunset and silence of the world; Kiku's sigh ended up one of content more than anything else.
    He glanced down at his companion on the hill, continuing to stroke his hair again.

    To watch you, to shield you
    Or kill on demand

    The boy had a peaceful look upon his innocent, childlike face, laying out on his back with his hands folded over his torso, a single sunflower intertwined in his fingers. His soft beige-blonde hair was just a little long and as Kiku stroked it, moving strands around, it still quite easily pulled back into place to perfectly frame a slightly pale sleeping face. Beside him was an old sword, the handle wrapped in tattered fabric, the tassle frayed and just as aged as the sword; on the boy himself was a blood stained military uniform with a flag on the sleeve, his national flag, the Russian flag, though it was peeling a bit. Around his neck was a pale old sort of scarf that covered part of his lower face.
    Kiku leaned forward to use the hand he'd been leaning back on to lightly touch the flag; somewhere nearby a small bell rang through the air, matching his movements, Kiku leaning over the sleeping boy.

    The choice he'd made
    He could not comprehend

    "Saiai," he said softly, his voice like the bell, soft and sweet, "Saiai, I'm sorry. I never should I put you.....in this situation."
    "don't be silly, solnyshko moyo, I'm fine, da."

    His blood a grim secret
    They had to commend

    Kiku's eyes met haunting amethyst purple ones, glowing with a gentle light and childlike innocence; Kiku leaned back again as the boy in the military suit sat up, one hand going to grab the sword at his side by its sheath, holding it loosely but close. He turned his head to look at him once more then smiled, "See? I only needed to take a small nap, sweet Kiku. I am sorry if I made you worry."
    Kiku blushed lightly and glanced away with a small frown. "that's okay, we had to run a long way so you are expected to be tired."
    The boy's smile weakened a bit but only a bit.

    He's torn between his honor
    And the true love of his life

    The air was heavy in the prison camp. No, rather it was too cold to really be able to breathe. The boy stood by the chain fence that surrounded the camp, his hat pulled tight over his head to try and keep his ears warm; his back hurt a bit from leaning so much against the fence and in his hands was his sword, one on the handle, one on the sheath. It was really an odd weapon, he got teased quite a bit because he loved it so much, but he found it much more beautiful of a weapon then a gun. He watched the prisoners of the war out in the courtyard, all soldiers from the enemies side, their movements denoting hopelessness and pain; he watched his fellow Russians kick a few, getting into fights especially with the few Japanese soldiers who' alone still held onto their honor and pride. Bushido, he remembered one soldier say to him though he couldn't remember if it had been an enemy or friend; it is bushido......
    The boy pulled his gaze away to stare beyond the fence, behind him an endless bright sea of snow, so far the sky and snow just seemed to meet somewhere without a single break; it was a cruelty of life to him but also beautiful without compare. It made him allow a soft smile to slip by before he saw something coming from the winter-filled land.
    Short black hair that was a mess on his head, dark eyes with even darker bags under them, a beautiful kimono made of bluest silk but embroidered with sunflowers of all things; a Japanese boy, a beautiful one, clumsily stumbling through the snow then falling into it.
    The boy watched as two guards left the fenced area to retrieve him; he remembered a small sorrow grow within him. My, my, he thought; now he'll be a prisoner here too.

    He prayed for both
    But was denied

    But soon the boy knew something else about the Asian boy who even frozen was always a beautiful angel. He knew he couldn't resist him. With him alone in the infirmary the boy felt condemned to the urge to see the Japanese one; after all had he not seen him first? That meant he belonged to and with him.
    After awakening that name was the first to be spoke; Kiku, Kiku, like a child's cry. Was it really the name? The boy with the old sword smiled as always and answered with his own name though it never passed Kiku's lips; the boy never minded. At first there was no name then suddenly it was saiai, always saiai; Kiku would smile lightly when he said it and the boy understood without knowing. Kiku became his solnyshko in the flash of an eye, his sun in a cold world.
    But the soldiers wanted his solnyshko to be like the other Japanese in the camp.

    So many dreams were broken
    And so much was sacrificed
    Was it worth the ones we loved
    And had to leave behind?

    The night was cold and the boy was happy, a truly happy smile upon his cold face; he carried a bowl of hot ukha in both hands and was humming a song to himself. He didn't even notice the unusual, unnatural silence around him, the absence of Russian soldiers laughing and drinking, the lack of other captive soldiers suffering; the boy with the purple eyes just walked onto the infirmary. He did notice a familiar cry being heard. He went red and quickened his pace, dropping the bowl into the soft snow and unsheathed his sword before going inside.
    What he found was horrid to him; his sweet Kiku on the floor surrounded by soldiers, his kimono unwrapped to reveal his pale and bruising skin. The boys eyes widened and he heard someone laugh, call him over to play too. Kiku looked at him like pleading him to help then the boy gave his coldest smile and put the sword back in its sheath, walking over.
    "sure." He spoke before stopping in front of Kiku, grabbing the now-struggling Japanese by the hair and pulling him up.
    "saiai....." he remembered he whined; the boy's smile turned to a smirk and he whispered to Kiku;
    "solnyshko moyo, vsyopad kontrolem, dover syamne....."

    So many years have passed
    Who are the noble and the wise?

    The next few minutes came out like an old movie reel. The boy let go then drew his sword again to slice through his countrymen like he might snowmen; just in this case blood and bits of skin and screams and thuds filled the air, Kiku ducking and pulling a blanket over him to hide. The boy with the haunting purple eyes laughed hysterically; they deserved it, they deserved it, how dare they hurt his Kiku, his solnyshko, how dare they....
    Finally it ended, no more blood or screams, and in silence he stood, like a blood stained statue, then suddenly he turned, looking around before seeing the slightly shaking bundle of blankets; he leaned down and pulled the blankets up over both, his smile back to be gentle, "Sorry to scare you; we can run away now, da?"

    Will all our sins be justified?

    Kiku stared for a moment then nodded and grabbed the hand holding the blanket, speaking softly, "please...."

    The curse of his powers
    Tormented his life

    Kiku touched his cheek gently, wiping the last of the blood from the boy's face, "are you remembering something?"
    "just how wondrous my comrade looked drenched in their own blood," he replied softly.
    Kiku frowned and the boy kissed him, "I love it when you look at me like that."
    He didn't pull away and Kiku only could recipicate the actions, putting his arms slowly around his neck, pulling the ex-soldier closer. The sword was set back down and the sunflower was put upon Kiku's lap before the kiss was deepened, one of the boy's hands on Kiku's hip. Perfection to them, to be free to do as they would, when explosions erupted nearby and Kiku pulled away to look.
    "the war is coming for us." such a silly, such a simple, such a sad phrase and in every sense of its words it was true.

    Obeying the crown
    Was a sinister price

    The boy but his lip before getting to his feet carefully, grabbing his sword and he slipped it into the belt of his bloodied uniform then held out a hand to Kiku for the thousandth time, "Come on then, solnyshko moyo, Kiku moy, let's run away together again."

    His soul was tortured
    By love and by pain

    Kiku took the hand, holding the sunflower in his other hand. A small bell rang in the air as he stood and they began to run again.

    He surely would flee
    But the oath made him stay

    The wind whipped past them as the two ran, the sound of bombs falling, trees dying, grass and flowers being destroyed surrounding them. Kiku focused on his saiai though, on the color of his hair, the sight of his bloody scarf, the warmth of his hand, the sadness in his smile, he focused on his saiai and nothing else, no one else.

    He's torn between his honor
    And the true love of his life

    The sunflower in his hand suddenly became important as well, almost more important than the rest of the world, a single innocence, the sign of something Kiku had alone witnessed and would never forget. Escaping the camp, his saiai's land, they'd found fields of sunflowers, growing towards a hidden sun in a land of sun. One was picked by the boy with the amethyst eyes and for a moment in time they weren't running. Kiku kept the flower and the boy held it dear and yet the petals were slightly drooping.
    Kiku tightened his grip on both it and the boy's hand, not noticing a petal falling.

    He prayed for both
    But was denied

    A bomb exploded ahead of them as they found themselves in what was left of a city that neither knew the name of. A red clouded sky lay above them in place of the night that they expected, broken buildings and tattered remains of life were around them; the boy stopped and Kiku released his hand to pick up something. It was a small Teddy bear, one eye missing, a tear in its chest that stretched from one side to the other diagonally, blood staining his fingers and the bear itself. There were bloody fingerprints on it, small and smeared a bit.

    So many dreams were broken
    And so much was sacrificed
    Was it worth the ones we loved
    And had to leave behind

    The boy looked around them, examined and unfrightened by the death and senseless destruction around them. It was almost like looking over a scene of hell, Purgatory incarnate, yet it had no effect emotionally or psychologically on the boy; Kiku noticed though and reached out to touch his head, "Saiai?"

    So many years have passed
    Who are the noble and the wise?

    The boy turned to smile at him, taking his hand back into his own. He was about to speak, too soothe his sweet solnyshko......
    But a loud and ever-familiar clap of thunder and a flash of light interrupted, causing Kiku's eyes to widen in shock and pain.

    Will all our sins be justified?

    "Kiku!" Kiku's grip loosened and before he could be caught he collapsed to the ground, his right side bleeding through his beautiful kimono. The boy got down onto his knees and tried to wake him, shaking him lightly but pleadingly he cried, "Kiku, Kiku, please, please, don't be.....please...."

    Please forgive me for the sorrow
    For leaving you in fear

    Kiku's ever dark eyes slowly and painfully opened, looking but barely seeing; he spoke in a soft, weak voice, "Saiai?"
    The boy looked at him, "Kiku!"
    "I'm okay.....really, I've been.....shot before," the words went, the weakness in the voice continuing to grow, "H-here....."
    He reached into his hair and untied the hairclip there, a tassle, really of beautiful blue and red ribbon, a small gold bell hanging on the end; the boy with the purple eyes was confused but watched sadly as the weak Kiku tied it to the tattered tassle on the sword's handle, the bell ringing still but it was a weak soft sound.
    "Kiku...."
    "There....now you can go....fight without me.....worrying. I will.....know you're alive.....as long as I hear the.....bell," Kiku explained with a small smile.
    "I can't, I shouldn't just leave you here," he complained, his hands tightening as they held the sword.

    For the dreams we had to silence
    That's all they'll ever be

    "I'll.....be fine.....go," Kiku said before running his hand over the boy's cheek, "You know you....want to kill....who.....ever shot me....."
    Oh how well he knows me, the boy thought, getting to his feet. He booded then ran to find his opponent; mercy would not have a place in his heart tonight.

    Still I'll be the hand
    That serves you

    Kiku smiled and closed his eyes; the sound of the bell ringing soothed him. He imagined his saiai fighting so bravely, so well, killing his enemies and coming out victorious. And so Kiku felt content to sleep, just for a little while.

    Though you'll not see
    That it is me

    The bell suddenly shattered and the boy hesitated, giving his enemy enough of a moment for a bullet to hit him. The boy screamed in pain then swung, putting all he had, all his strength into it and blood splattered everywhere as a head hit the ground.
    He was breathing hard then, clenching his neck where his own blood was pouring; he had little else to do there and so much else somewhere else. He turned and left, his footsteps slow and uncoordinated, his head spinning. They led him for eternity it seemed but he knew he had to follow them.

    So many dreams were broken
    And so much was sacrificed
    Was it worth the ones we loved
    And had to leave behind

    He found Kiku peaceful and silent on the ground, the sunflowers petals all fallen but one. The boy though saw Kiku as a sleeping angel, even despite the blood coming from his side and mouth.
    He smiled again and went forward but stumbled, falling onto the "sleeping" Asian. He lay there for a moment, unable to move then move himself enough to move off him; he collapsed beside him and looked at his solnyshko, his Kiku, so silent and peaceful. He leaned over to kiss him once more softly, then spoke, even though he knew it advanced his spiral towards darkness, "Kiku? Kiku, please.....one last time, before I sleep again, please just say my name in your gentle tongue?"
    There was no response but he didn't really mind, the boy fell back and stared at the sky for a moment. He wondered if Heaven was real or if for his crimes he'd go to Hell.

    So many years have past
    Who are the noble and the wise?

    He closed his eyes and heard his name spoken by a loving voice. He slipped away with a smile.

    Will all our sins be justified?

    The last petal fell, the sword slipped from his hand.

    "Aishiteru, Ivan....."

    ~~~~~~~
    Veneziano: To those who guessed who the boy was quickly, congrats! You're smartly!
    Kiku:......
    Ivan: Oh my.....
    Veneziano: I made a video for this story so if you want it, just review and I'll send you the link as quick as a bunny. I really thought a sweet!Ivan and loving!Kiku would be a nice way to go.

    Translations:
    Solnyshko: sun
    Solnyshko moyo: my sun
    Vsyopad kontrolem: everything is under control
    Dover syamne: trust me
    Aishiteru: I love you
    Saiai: beloved