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fictionalized2012-06-24 10:06 pm
acperience) wrote in fictionalized2012-06-24 10:06 pm
fanfic; cultivation; part 1
Title: Cultivation
Series: The Legend of the Legendary Heroes / Insect, Eyeball, and Teddy Bear / Tales of Legendia / Persona 3
Character(s): Tiir, Minato, Walter, and Guriko, plus guest appearances by others.
Warnings: Mentions of death, violence, and abuse.
Summary: [AU] Minato doesn’t expect anything from his new ‘home’. Tiir intends to change that.
Dedication: Toigiko, kalisona, and broski.
Note: For reference, Tiir is 16, Walter 15, Guriko 13, Minato 6.
—
Cultivation
—
In the beginning, there was a single seed.
—
He’s no older than six years old, and already he’s tired of moving around.
And yet Minato knows that he doesn’t have much of a choice, and so has accepted his inevitable fate: to go from place to place without anywhere he can truly call home. As of right now, that ‘place’ is the building in front of him. It’s nice enough, with white painted walls and greenery surrounding it, but hardly anything special—though that doesn’t particularly matter to Minato. He knows he likely won’t stay here for long anyway.
“This will be your new home for now, Minato,” the orphanage worker tells him. “It’s a nice place, so I’m sure you’ll like it here.”
He nods, figuring that that’s how she expects him to react. She pats his head lightly, before leading him in.
—
Tiir’s doodling when Lafra pops his head into his room—or rather, the room Tiir shares with three others—with a smile.
“Tiir,” he says, catching the boy’s attention as he looks up from his sketchbook. “It seems we have a new arrival.”
Tiir blinks.
“How old?” he asks in order to gauge the newcomer’s chances of adoption. “What’s he—or she—like?”
“He,” Lafra tells him, tilting his head to the side as he appears to think. “I think he’s around six or seven. Cute child. I can’t tell much about him otherwise—I just saw him in the hall. Seems quiet, though.”
“Oh?” Tiir replies, glancing down at his drawing. “He and Pueka might get along, then.”
Tiir’s known Lafra for five years, though he’s only been best friends with him for the last three of those years. Pueka is the boy’s girlfriend in all but name, being too embarrassed to admit her feelings for him, though everyone, Lafra himself included, knows. Tiir has never known her to be anything but a soft and reserved girl—hence the previous comment.
Lafra, conversely, isn’t particularly shy. If anything, he’s a bit nosy. However, he shares Pueka’s brand of gentleness. Together, they’re two of the kindest people Tiir has met, and he knows that he’s lucky to be friends with them.
"Maybe," Lafra says, laughing lightly. "Anyway, I was going to go and say hi to him. Do you want to come with me?"
It’s a more complicated question than it seems. Lafra knows that Tiir has a soft spot for children, at the same time that he possesses a certain amount of dislike for the majority of the world’s population. Call it misanthropic, but all Lafra knows—all anyone in the orphanage knows—is that Tiir doesn’t get along with most.
Tiir pauses, before he finally answers. “I might as well. It’s not as if I’m doing much right now.”
“You’re drawing,” Lafra offers. In response, Tiir merely smiles and holds up his sketchbook, the current page filled with nothing but doodles. He hasn’t done any genuine drawings in a long time. A lack of inspiration, he supposes.
“Well, then. Shall we meet this newcomer?”
—
"Wait here for a moment," the worker tells Minato. He nods, climbing onto a nearby chair. She smiles at him and exits the hall, leaving the air to be filled with silence. Minato glances around, looking at the walls covered in children's drawings, before staring at a vacant spot in front of him. To anyone passing by, it might’ve appeared somewhat disturbing, to see a young child sit so still and quietly, as if he’d zoned out. He hadn’t, though—he simply doesn’t know where to look or what to think.
He isn’t sure of how much time passes by before he hears a voice. He almost expects it to be the worker’s, before he realizes that it’s a male voice, coming from down the hall. He turns to look.
Standing at the end of the hall are two teenage boys—one with dark brown hair tied into a ponytail and an older one with black hair. The latter waves at him, smiling. Minato holds up a hand and waves just barely enough to be called a wave in return.
The two approach him.
“Hello,” the ponytail boy says. He looks friendly, Minato decides. “We live here, and, well…”
The boy laughs sheepishly.
“I overheard Miss Kirijo talking to you, so I know that you’ll be living here as well. That means we’ll be friends.”
Minato nods, though he doesn’t think much of those words. He hasn’t had friends in a long time.
“My name’s Lafra,” the boy continues. “What’s yours?”
“… Minato.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Minato,” the black-haired boy speaks. He doesn’t look as kind as Lafra, but he’s still smiling, at least. “My name is Tiir. How old are you?”
“Six.”
Tiir shares a glance with Lafra, though Minato’s not sure what it means. If they were going to say anything, however, they’re interrupted by the entrance of the orphanage worker—Miss Kirijo, as Lafra had called her.
“Ah, Lafra, Tiir,” she says. Lafra straightens up, appearing almost nervous, though Tiir’s demeanour remains largely unchanged. “I see you’ve met Minato.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lafra replies. She nods, before turning to Minato.
“That’s good. Lafra and Tiir have been here for a while, so they’ll be able to show you around,” she says. “Well, everything’s been settled, so you’ll be staying here. Will you be all right, Minato?”
He nods. Miss Kirijo, seeming satisfied with his answer, continues.
“I’m glad. Well then, I’ll leave you to get to know Lafra and Tiir here. I’ll see you later, Minato.”
With that, she exits again, leaving Minato with the two boys.
—
Ultimately, Lafra has to leave to do his homework, meaning that Tiir ends up alone with Minato. For a moment, the two merely look at each other silently, before Tiir speaks up.
“Well, we won’t get much done like this. Come on.”
He extends his hand to Minato, who takes it, before Tiir gently pulls him out of the chair. Tiir notes that his expression has barely changed since he first saw him, though it doesn’t especially bother him.
He knows someone else like that, after all.
“How long will you be here?” Tiir asks him. Minato shrugs.
“… I don’t know.”
Tiir isn’t sure whether that means his situation is uncertain or if he simply doesn’t want to assume he’ll be in the orphanage for a long time. Either way, he decides not to question it.
“Well, hopefully you’ll be here long enough to have your own drawing on the wall,” he jokes, looking at the scribbles around them. “Here, I’ll show you mine.”
Still holding onto Minato’s hand, he leads him down the hall, easily locating his. Amidst the multi-coloured art, it stands out. The only colour he used in his drawing was red.
“There it is,” he says, pointing it out. Minato looks at it, and Tiir can almost see the gears in his head turning. It’s nice to know that he’s entirely capable of thought, at least.
“Oh,” Minato says. After a pause, he adds: “… It’s nice.”
Tiir chuckles. “It’s not at all, is it? Don’t worry, I know. I wasn’t a very artistic child.”
Compared to the other drawings of houses, suns, flowers, and other images, Tiir’s is simply a mass of red on white. If one looks closely, perhaps they can see the shapes of splatters, but for the most part, it’s what Lafra aptly named “The Death of the Red Crayon.”
“… When did you draw it?” Minato asks. Tiir blinks, a tad surprised by the question.
“Ah… when I was seven. A long time ago.” Again, Tiir can practically see the cogwheels in Minato’s head.
“How old are you now…?”
“Sixteen,” Tiir answers. Two plus two is four, and Minato looks like he’s doing math in his head.
“… Then nine years.”
“Since I drew this? Yes.” Tiir smiles. “Good thinking. Do you like math?”
“… I guess.”
Somehow the answer doesn’t surprise Tiir, who continues smiling and ruffles Minato’s hair with one hand. Also unsurprisingly, Minato doesn’t have much of a response, beyond looking up at Tiir with large eyes. Lafra was right—he is a cute child, even if unusually passive. He can handle it, though. If anything, that apathy tugs at something from inside of him, as he remembers—
(”He doesn’t seem to care about anything.”)
He wonders why Minato’s like this. As if there’s something hollow inside of him, as the boy looks back up at Tiir’s drawing. Tiir follows his gaze.
It’s probably just as well that Minato hasn’t asked what it was supposed to be of. He’s likely assumed that it’s abstract.
Tiir’s never told anyone—not even Lafra—that when he drew it, he was thinking of blood.
—
Series: The Legend of the Legendary Heroes / Insect, Eyeball, and Teddy Bear / Tales of Legendia / Persona 3
Character(s): Tiir, Minato, Walter, and Guriko, plus guest appearances by others.
Warnings: Mentions of death, violence, and abuse.
Summary: [AU] Minato doesn’t expect anything from his new ‘home’. Tiir intends to change that.
Dedication: To
igiko, kalisona, and broski.Note: For reference, Tiir is 16, Walter 15, Guriko 13, Minato 6.
—
He’s no older than six years old, and already he’s tired of moving around.
And yet Minato knows that he doesn’t have much of a choice, and so has accepted his inevitable fate: to go from place to place without anywhere he can truly call home. As of right now, that ‘place’ is the building in front of him. It’s nice enough, with white painted walls and greenery surrounding it, but hardly anything special—though that doesn’t particularly matter to Minato. He knows he likely won’t stay here for long anyway.
“This will be your new home for now, Minato,” the orphanage worker tells him. “It’s a nice place, so I’m sure you’ll like it here.”
He nods, figuring that that’s how she expects him to react. She pats his head lightly, before leading him in.
Tiir’s doodling when Lafra pops his head into his room—or rather, the room Tiir shares with three others—with a smile.
“Tiir,” he says, catching the boy’s attention as he looks up from his sketchbook. “It seems we have a new arrival.”
Tiir blinks.
“How old?” he asks in order to gauge the newcomer’s chances of adoption. “What’s he—or she—like?”
“He,” Lafra tells him, tilting his head to the side as he appears to think. “I think he’s around six or seven. Cute child. I can’t tell much about him otherwise—I just saw him in the hall. Seems quiet, though.”
“Oh?” Tiir replies, glancing down at his drawing. “He and Pueka might get along, then.”
Tiir’s known Lafra for five years, though he’s only been best friends with him for the last three of those years. Pueka is the boy’s girlfriend in all but name, being too embarrassed to admit her feelings for him, though everyone, Lafra himself included, knows. Tiir has never known her to be anything but a soft and reserved girl—hence the previous comment.
Lafra, conversely, isn’t particularly shy. If anything, he’s a bit nosy. However, he shares Pueka’s brand of gentleness. Together, they’re two of the kindest people Tiir has met, and he knows that he’s lucky to be friends with them.
"Maybe," Lafra says, laughing lightly. "Anyway, I was going to go and say hi to him. Do you want to come with me?"
It’s a more complicated question than it seems. Lafra knows that Tiir has a soft spot for children, at the same time that he possesses a certain amount of dislike for the majority of the world’s population. Call it misanthropic, but all Lafra knows—all anyone in the orphanage knows—is that Tiir doesn’t get along with most.
Tiir pauses, before he finally answers. “I might as well. It’s not as if I’m doing much right now.”
“You’re drawing,” Lafra offers. In response, Tiir merely smiles and holds up his sketchbook, the current page filled with nothing but doodles. He hasn’t done any genuine drawings in a long time. A lack of inspiration, he supposes.
“Well, then. Shall we meet this newcomer?”
"Wait here for a moment," the worker tells Minato. He nods, climbing onto a nearby chair. She smiles at him and exits the hall, leaving the air to be filled with silence. Minato glances around, looking at the walls covered in children's drawings, before staring at a vacant spot in front of him. To anyone passing by, it might’ve appeared somewhat disturbing, to see a young child sit so still and quietly, as if he’d zoned out. He hadn’t, though—he simply doesn’t know where to look or what to think.
He isn’t sure of how much time passes by before he hears a voice. He almost expects it to be the worker’s, before he realizes that it’s a male voice, coming from down the hall. He turns to look.
Standing at the end of the hall are two teenage boys—one with dark brown hair tied into a ponytail and an older one with black hair. The latter waves at him, smiling. Minato holds up a hand and waves just barely enough to be called a wave in return.
The two approach him.
“Hello,” the ponytail boy says. He looks friendly, Minato decides. “We live here, and, well…”
The boy laughs sheepishly.
“I overheard Miss Kirijo talking to you, so I know that you’ll be living here as well. That means we’ll be friends.”
Minato nods, though he doesn’t think much of those words. He hasn’t had friends in a long time.
“My name’s Lafra,” the boy continues. “What’s yours?”
“… Minato.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Minato,” the black-haired boy speaks. He doesn’t look as kind as Lafra, but he’s still smiling, at least. “My name is Tiir. How old are you?”
“Six.”
Tiir shares a glance with Lafra, though Minato’s not sure what it means. If they were going to say anything, however, they’re interrupted by the entrance of the orphanage worker—Miss Kirijo, as Lafra had called her.
“Ah, Lafra, Tiir,” she says. Lafra straightens up, appearing almost nervous, though Tiir’s demeanour remains largely unchanged. “I see you’ve met Minato.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lafra replies. She nods, before turning to Minato.
“That’s good. Lafra and Tiir have been here for a while, so they’ll be able to show you around,” she says. “Well, everything’s been settled, so you’ll be staying here. Will you be all right, Minato?”
He nods. Miss Kirijo, seeming satisfied with his answer, continues.
“I’m glad. Well then, I’ll leave you to get to know Lafra and Tiir here. I’ll see you later, Minato.”
With that, she exits again, leaving Minato with the two boys.
Ultimately, Lafra has to leave to do his homework, meaning that Tiir ends up alone with Minato. For a moment, the two merely look at each other silently, before Tiir speaks up.
“Well, we won’t get much done like this. Come on.”
He extends his hand to Minato, who takes it, before Tiir gently pulls him out of the chair. Tiir notes that his expression has barely changed since he first saw him, though it doesn’t especially bother him.
He knows someone else like that, after all.
“How long will you be here?” Tiir asks him. Minato shrugs.
“… I don’t know.”
Tiir isn’t sure whether that means his situation is uncertain or if he simply doesn’t want to assume he’ll be in the orphanage for a long time. Either way, he decides not to question it.
“Well, hopefully you’ll be here long enough to have your own drawing on the wall,” he jokes, looking at the scribbles around them. “Here, I’ll show you mine.”
Still holding onto Minato’s hand, he leads him down the hall, easily locating his. Amidst the multi-coloured art, it stands out. The only colour he used in his drawing was red.
“There it is,” he says, pointing it out. Minato looks at it, and Tiir can almost see the gears in his head turning. It’s nice to know that he’s entirely capable of thought, at least.
“Oh,” Minato says. After a pause, he adds: “… It’s nice.”
Tiir chuckles. “It’s not at all, is it? Don’t worry, I know. I wasn’t a very artistic child.”
Compared to the other drawings of houses, suns, flowers, and other images, Tiir’s is simply a mass of red on white. If one looks closely, perhaps they can see the shapes of splatters, but for the most part, it’s what Lafra aptly named “The Death of the Red Crayon.”
“… When did you draw it?” Minato asks. Tiir blinks, a tad surprised by the question.
“Ah… when I was seven. A long time ago.” Again, Tiir can practically see the cogwheels in Minato’s head.
“How old are you now…?”
“Sixteen,” Tiir answers. Two plus two is four, and Minato looks like he’s doing math in his head.
“… Then nine years.”
“Since I drew this? Yes.” Tiir smiles. “Good thinking. Do you like math?”
“… I guess.”
Somehow the answer doesn’t surprise Tiir, who continues smiling and ruffles Minato’s hair with one hand. Also unsurprisingly, Minato doesn’t have much of a response, beyond looking up at Tiir with large eyes. Lafra was right—he is a cute child, even if unusually passive. He can handle it, though. If anything, that apathy tugs at something from inside of him, as he remembers—
(”He doesn’t seem to care about anything.”)
He wonders why Minato’s like this. As if there’s something hollow inside of him, as the boy looks back up at Tiir’s drawing. Tiir follows his gaze.
It’s probably just as well that Minato hasn’t asked what it was supposed to be of. He’s likely assumed that it’s abstract.
Tiir’s never told anyone—not even Lafra—that when he drew it, he was thinking of blood.
▶ Part 2