After Winter (Sansa Stark x Kuchiki Byakuya)
Sansa played with the white gold band on her finger while watching the beautiful view of the rows and rows of flower trees in bloom, their colors ranging from a very pale pink that is almost white to deep pinkish reds.
She has worn the ring for only five years and yet it felt like a lifetime.
She knew she has to let it go. It has served no purpose for the past two years now. It’s nothing more but another remnant of the ruin that has become of her marriage. She has to throw it away before it acquired even more weight and became even more of a burden. She has no desire to carry it any longer.
There’s a beautiful ancient shrine near the ryokan she’s staying at.
Perhaps I could go there and gently toss the ring along with many five-yen coins in the offering box for good luck?
The old gods and the new have not been kind nor generous to her in many years. Who knows, perhaps the Far Eastern gods would listen and grant her prayers.
Yes, that’s what I need to do. It’s time to move on from snow and winter. Time to enjoy the spring.
“They’re called ume,” a deep baritone voice spoke from beside her, startling Sansa from her quiet, contemplative mood.
She turned her head to her right and felt her breath catch when she laid her eyes on the man who spoke.
A strong, almost ethereal, handsome face. Solemn slate gray eyes. Tall and on the lean side, but clearly great physique based on how his obviously expensive clothing hugged his body. Long black hair kept in intricate white headpieces (They're kenseikan. She learned during a tour in one of the many museums that they were markers of the old aristocracy in the Far East).
Her eyes also didn’t fail to notice the delicate scarf he was wearing. It looked like it was made from silver-white, windflower light silk—another marker for wealth and nobility.
He was beautiful. Even more so than the flowers.
Realizing she’d been ogling the stranger, Sansa blinked several times then cleared her throat, “Pardon, are you talking to me?”
The stranger's solemn eyes flitted to her before he returned to looking at the flowers. “Hn. The flowers. You look like you’ve never seen their like before,” the man calmly gave his observation.
He had an accent but instead of sounding awkward or painful to her ears, it just sounded downright sexy. It made her think of nights...
Sansa felt her face flush at the direction her thoughts went to. Gods what am I even thinking?
She banished them from her mind and awkwardly replied, “Ah, well, yes. Yes, this is the first time I’m seeing a profusion of these flowers. They’re breathtaking.”
The stranger nodded. “They’re called ume—plum blossoms in the Western Tongue, I believe. They are beloved here. They’ve long been subjects of songs, poetry and painting here in the Far East.”
“Yes. I...I read they hold a special cultural significance for Far Easterners.”
“That they do. They symbolize many things. Here, they represent the thawing of winter, the changing of seasons, renewal, prosperity, good health, good fortune, strength in adversity. They are also considered a ward against evil spirits.”
“That’s quite the list of meanings for a single flower. You are very knowledgeable of ume flowers.” was all Sansa could say, smiling faintly at the uncharacteristic trait such a manly man portrayed.
"Are they your favorite?" she asked, wanting to prolong the conversation just a little bit.
The man’s lips curled up a bit before turning solemn once more. “Hn. I am partial to sakura blossoms.”
“Oh? I’ve seen them in photos. They’re beautiful too. I wish I could stay that long to experience a proper hanami but...sorry I’m rambling. What makes you partial to the sakura blossoms instead?” she asked curiously.
A beautiful and strong-looking man who appeared to be of old noble blood if her earlier observations were correct. One who knows many things about the ume. One who’s unafraid to say he has a preference in flowers.
Sansa can’t help but look at him under her lashes a little more than she should.
The man inclined his head to look at her better. “They symbolize spring, renewal and the ephemeral nature of life.”
“Ephemerality of life—that is a beautiful meaning but it sounds so sad.”
The man’s face softened, making him look even more beautiful, “To some maybe. But it is also a reminder that one must not waste but should treasure every breath and must be prepared to seize every opportunity that comes his or her way.”
He looked so good full of conviction during his short speech that Sansa’s hands itched to raise her trusty travel camera, take several photos of him and add them to her growing collection of souvenirs of her time in the land of the rising sun.
She opened her mouth to ask for permission but the man extended his right hand to her.
“Kuchiki Byakuya,” he said.
“Pardon? What did you say?” Sansa gracelessly asked while staring at the hand offered. She didn't understand the foreign words and didn't feel comfortable accepting the hand without knowing their meanings.
“My name, my lady, is Kuchiki Byakuya. May I have yours?”
“Oh! Sansa! I am Sansa Stark” she answered in a high pitched voice, then winced.
Gods! She sounded like an awkward, love-struck girl in front of her crush. How mortifying! If Marge could see her now, she’ll use the scene to tease her for many years to come.
“May I invite you to dinner, Sansa Stark?”
Sansa stilled and just looked at the man, at Kuchiki Byakuya. He continued looking at her patiently.
“Are you...are you asking me out? Like... on a date?” she asked hesitantly.
“Yes, my lady.”
Sansa almost, almost choked on her own spit. A date! So soon! “B-but! Why?”
Kuchiki Byakuya took a deep breath then looked her in the eye, “There are still two moons left before I can invite you to watch and enjoy the sakura trees in full bloom at my estate. I hope an invitation to dinner would do for now.”