Hands

The precious days before the tragic ruin of Gonou and Kanan. One-shot.

Gonou’s hands were so delicate. Not delicate as in feminine, no. There was still a mannish grace to those bony digits with the rugged bump of knuckles but careful, ..graceful in their movements. They were beautiful to look at. Gentle to coax the most flighty bird into that tender palm. Gonou never had a pet before, but his hands were kind to animals.. and could tame the most ferocious beasts under the spell of his hands.

The playground could be a hell for bumps and bruises. Surely only a monkey could scale those new structures that seemed to have heights towering to the heavens. But he possessed a healer’s touch. His hands were gentle to scoop up a fallen child from the gravel and wipe away the tears off the ruddy cheeks. The pain would be soothed away and a toothy smile would break on the youthful face before charging off to the swings.

Gentle over the ivory and black keys of the piano that the little school owned in the depths of the basement. It was forgotten by the teachers, now draped by the old, bulky sheet the sewing mistress had cast aside to be deemed unwanted fabric. Children nowadays had no concern for music, they were too concerned with the simple pleasures of fun and games, which inevitably led to the new quarters of the forgotten piano. Certainly Gonou knew how to play. If time allowed, he would seat his thin frame on the ebony bench and ease a dull harmony from the cranky, tuneless thing until he would grow somber for no reason. He always had an ear for melodies too.

Kanan at many times admired his touch and often said so. She would sigh in bliss as his fingers would snake in the ribbons of her golden-brown hair, petting her long mane as it rushed down her back like a waterfall. Or tremble as they delved beneath the fabric of her dress to caress the sensitive skin beneath. They were so identical. While the timber of his voice was husky next to her ear, and hers light and whispery, their twin hips would match in perfection before their taboo love was made in passion. Molded as if made for each other. Sculpted from the same blood and bone. But they didn’t care if their forms were too alike, it was perfect anyways. Why resist perfection?

Gonou’s hands were for many things.

They were best at loving. Aside from loving his sister, they loved books. Right now, they cradled a heavy volume about gods and history.

The said tome was resting in Gonou’s lap. He was idly flipping the ancient pages deftly when a shadow darkened out the sun from the window and hands passed over his startled eyes.

Even by knowing who it was and feeling the tickling of her hair on his neck, he recognized the familiar stroke of her feminine hands.

Kanan’s hands were beautiful and bungling. Beautiful as in fragile and smooth. Bungling as in awkward with daily routines. Cleaning could only become a greater mess. Never put a sopping mop into those hands.. only a flood would ensue from the water bucket on the floor. No matter how earnest she was to complete those tedious chores, only disaster could arise. Cooking was another predicament. No matter how much of her heart she could pour into baking a cake for her lover, burnt chocolate would sizzle and the words of icing would be shaky. But it was a real labour of love.

The way she handled a cutting knife in the kitchen was clumsy, yes, and sometimes would come close to chopping off a finger instead of the green vegetables much to Gonou‘s fright. Her laughter would then echo off the sunny walls in a light trill and continue slicing away at the cucumber with sloppy chops even a butcher would be frowning upon. However, whenever she did nick a neat slice into her skin, and a cry tore her throat, he would press her finger to kiss away the trickle of blood. In those days, he could kiss away her suffering, and mend it with a bandage and a murmur of his love. It was so easy back then.

“Oh Gonou. Have you still been reading all this time? It‘s been hours since I‘ve been away.” Her tone was not surprised but almost chiding, only like an older sister could.

The way her fingers would gently tousle his mop of dark hair could only bring a genuine smile to wrinkle his lips and reveal his winking teeth. He’d then chuckled playfully and twisted in his seat to slide an arm around her dainty waist and pull her closer. Only Kanan could lure out his good-humored side.

“Mn, you are getting better at sneaking up on me. I just was finishing up the novel but now that you’ve returned..” Gonou’s eyes would gleam in mischief and Kanan could only plant her lips on his neck, whispering in his ear.

“Enough work for today. What say we go.. for a walk together? Say.. We haven‘t had a picnic in some while.”

Not much more had to be said between the two twins. His grin could only widen as he closed the book with a keen thump and smoothly stowed it away on their shared shelf of precious books and pictures, tucking it in it‘s wedged spot. Alphabetical of course. She had slid her arms around his neck as the two shared a warm kiss in the midst of their close embrace, lost in the moment and the butterfly dance of their tongues.

She had already gathered up a basket. They then tromped through the maze of forest outside their house, dashing through the uncultivated and felt so alive in the sunny breeze. The blanket had been laid to rest on the green grass beneath their favourite oak tree. Their emerald eyes had twinkled as they shared a light meal between sweet kisses and laughter, feeding each other the chocolate Kanan had purchased for a treat earlier that day.

The sun shone on, and on as the day waxed on into the early evening. With his hands, he had picked her a bundle of scarlet flowers. There had been many other colours such as gold and violet in the meadow, but the vivacious hue of red was so appealing in a dark way. Then it hadn’t reminded him of blood; ..it was the symbol of love. And he loved her more than anything. He had presented them like a gentleman to her with a blush, and Kanan would giggle, thanking him graciously and thanking him for the thought.

Sins were hidden by their outdoor innocence. If only they could live like this forever and grow old together. But their sins were bound to return in a package of karma.. to be awakened the day tomorrow. Sins never to be atoned for.

They held hands for the last time outdoors, basking in the light of their innocence and incestuous purity.

Hands that would last innocent only a day longer.