Title: Ying Yang II
Author: Becky
Paring: There can be only one!!!!!!
What: The sequel to Ying Yang, you don't have to read them in order they're just two different perspectives.
Notes: This is to the lovely people that reviewed Ying Yang – GrowlingTurtlez, Sakusha-san, panatlantic, Empressxu and Literary Eagle. Im glad you enjoyed it and hope you like this one too.
!!!SPOILER WARNING!!! -- For the entire series!-- !!!SPOILER WARNING!!!
Ah, look at him, my dark winged murderous angel. My monster in the clothing of angelic perfection, he's glaring at me with those inhuman violet eyes, every inch of his body is filled with purpose, with hatred, or so he thinks. But I can read deeper, for he has been the study of my family for two generations now, I can see the show which he attempts to put on for the little one that stands behind him.
That one, his hatred perfumes the air like fine wine , it is real, and soul deep. I wonder if he knows how it is tearing him apart, rotting him from within, like a cancer, but there can be no aggressive treatment for this disease, only my death will release him from his hate, and where will that leave him, what will drive the child then.
Love?
How laughable, but true, he loves my black reflection. But not as I do, within the childlike Hisoko there is nothing but adoration, he does not understand, cannot see, as I do, the endless possibilities tucked within my nemesis, inside his cool unchanged and unchanging flesh, I called him a monster, and in a way I mean it, but not in the manner that his silly followers of his think, they who would have called the Turn snake a monster, for is it not horrific, destructive?
Yes.
But it also beautiful.
I had been deep in prayer in the shadow of the cross, searching for answers to unformed, unfathomable questions when I heard a light step behind me, and turned, there silhouetted by the light from the doorway he stood, a perfect dark angel, that was the cause of my tear, the first to touch my cheek in many many years, that perfect untouched beauty in who's eyes raged, something, older than time and more terrible.
I loved him at first sight, the devil utterly captivated by Eve in the garden.
It makes me smile, and I see that smile reflected momentarily in those amethyst eyes, like a flicker of firelight on perfect gemstones then he sees the child at my feet, and guilt enters, but that smile cannot be banished, because, despite himself, he wants me here and it rips him apart, my mirror image sees me only through the shattered glass of his own guilt. When that guilt is finally gone, eroded away by century after century of death warring with passion then, then it will be our time.
He is waiting, ah yes, we must complete the ritual in the way that he expects otherwise, otherwise he, and that child that follows him with trusting emerald eyes will have to face what is happening between us all too soon. Metamorphosis of this sort cannot be rushed.
"Tsuzuki-san It's been some time"
My voice is quiet, untouched by any inflection, except perhaps a tiny irrepressible flicker of pleasure that his presence gives me, that I can see reflected in his eyes, blackened gems now as passion grasps him without his leave or say so, I wonder how he disguises it, behind the mask of hatred? For passionate love and hate are so close to each other that sometimes the line blurs, shifting and dividing like the sands of the Sahara close to the horizon.
"Muraki"
His voice wraps around my heart once more, quiet and confused. Ah my precious angel, you are falling aren't you, tumbling from within that garden of cherry blossoms that blooms for eternity into the shifting forests that awaits you, and you welcome it, even though you refuse to admit it as of yet, I can see it, for are you not my reflection?
In you I see myself.