Ship: kanzaki miki / miyahara Fandom: yowapeda Major tags: implied character death, graphic depictions of violence/gore (body horror) Other tags: supernatural elements (witches) Word count: 510
this..... went off the beaten path, sorry. I just can't resist a witchy mikiinchou name thing.
***
Miyahara shows up at the witch’s doorstep with her hair cut short to her chin.
“You went too fast,” Miki reproaches gently. Every day people show up with their hearts held trembling in their hands, their lungs trailing in clouds of sorrow by their head, their guts quivering in fear wrapped around their arms. The always want Miki to fix the mess they’ve made of themselves. And she does. Miki always does. “You cut away too much.”
They’re sitting at Miki’s little kitchen table and what sunlight reaches into the heart of the deep green wood streams in through the windows, sharp white lines that never seem to stay still, following the light movement of Miki’s hands, weaving in and out between her knowing fingers. Miyahara lets Miki touch her hair, fingers running along the jagged ends, brushing back the strands to see what story they tell in the way they fall back to cover Miyahara’s face.
“I needed it gone,” Miyahara says. The wind had been whistling loudly through the crack of her old bedroom window that morning. “I woke up one day and it was too much.”
“Just trimming the dead ends usually helps with nightmares,” Miki explains as she watches Miyahara’s hair curve naturally under her chin into a dark bob. Close to the face. Secrets still live in there. “More than two inches and you start cutting away recent memories, more than a foot and you can lose even the ones from childhood.”
“I know,” Miyahara replies. Her eyes are clear behind her glasses. “But nothing else was working, and I had to make it work.”
“Is ‘Miyahara’ all you have left?” Miyahara’s bob isn’t straight all the way around, a drastic home remedy for an old haunt, and Miki thinks with a little alarm that if the bob had gone any shorter Miyahara would have been left with nothing at all. Even just the single name was a cliff’s edge.
“Yes.” And then softly, “If it wasn’t so dangerous, maybe it would be best to cut that away, too.”
Miki’s eyes go bright and hard. There has always been something of the sun in her, even here deep in the dark green wood where things only grow in shadows, and she has never refused to light even the blackest path. Where Miki goes, she takes others with her, too.
“You don’t cut away parts of yourself,” Miki says firmly as she smooths down Miyahara’s flyaways. Miyahara’s hair is soft and there is something even softer about the turn of her mouth and Miki feels suddenly fierce here in the white sunlight lines that cross between them. “You absolutely do not cut away parts of yourself to appease a ghost.”
Miyahara looks at Miki then, at her long brown hair twisted in a crown around her head, and thinks maybe she could grow herself a new name here in the shadows that live among the trees. “Will you help me,” Miyahara asks.
“Always,” Miki says. Miki always does. But sometimes more than others, she absolutely does.
FILL: TEAM KAGEYAMA TOBIO/OIKAWA TOORU, T
Fandom: yowapeda
Major tags: implied character death, graphic depictions of violence/gore (body horror)
Other tags: supernatural elements (witches)
Word count: 510
this..... went off the beaten path, sorry. I just can't resist a witchy mikiinchou name thing.
***
Miyahara shows up at the witch’s doorstep with her hair cut short to her chin.
“You went too fast,” Miki reproaches gently. Every day people show up with their hearts held trembling in their hands, their lungs trailing in clouds of sorrow by their head, their guts quivering in fear wrapped around their arms. The always want Miki to fix the mess they’ve made of themselves. And she does. Miki always does. “You cut away too much.”
They’re sitting at Miki’s little kitchen table and what sunlight reaches into the heart of the deep green wood streams in through the windows, sharp white lines that never seem to stay still, following the light movement of Miki’s hands, weaving in and out between her knowing fingers. Miyahara lets Miki touch her hair, fingers running along the jagged ends, brushing back the strands to see what story they tell in the way they fall back to cover Miyahara’s face.
“I needed it gone,” Miyahara says. The wind had been whistling loudly through the crack of her old bedroom window that morning. “I woke up one day and it was too much.”
“Just trimming the dead ends usually helps with nightmares,” Miki explains as she watches Miyahara’s hair curve naturally under her chin into a dark bob. Close to the face. Secrets still live in there. “More than two inches and you start cutting away recent memories, more than a foot and you can lose even the ones from childhood.”
“I know,” Miyahara replies. Her eyes are clear behind her glasses. “But nothing else was working, and I had to make it work.”
“Is ‘Miyahara’ all you have left?” Miyahara’s bob isn’t straight all the way around, a drastic home remedy for an old haunt, and Miki thinks with a little alarm that if the bob had gone any shorter Miyahara would have been left with nothing at all. Even just the single name was a cliff’s edge.
“Yes.” And then softly, “If it wasn’t so dangerous, maybe it would be best to cut that away, too.”
Miki’s eyes go bright and hard. There has always been something of the sun in her, even here deep in the dark green wood where things only grow in shadows, and she has never refused to light even the blackest path. Where Miki goes, she takes others with her, too.
“You don’t cut away parts of yourself,” Miki says firmly as she smooths down Miyahara’s flyaways. Miyahara’s hair is soft and there is something even softer about the turn of her mouth and Miki feels suddenly fierce here in the white sunlight lines that cross between them. “You absolutely do not cut away parts of yourself to appease a ghost.”
Miyahara looks at Miki then, at her long brown hair twisted in a crown around her head, and thinks maybe she could grow herself a new name here in the shadows that live among the trees. “Will you help me,” Miyahara asks.
“Always,” Miki says. Miki always does. But sometimes more than others, she absolutely does.