I do not own Yami no Matsuei; I don't think I should even be here, but hey, cheap thrills. I also have no idea what a beta-d is, I think they're the people that lay out things, but I hate computers, and this is going out as is, I have no idea how to format, and if its different. I guess we'll just have to see! I'm thinking about continuing, a few twisted ideas happen to slip into my head. lets see where this goes! nn.

Thanks to the kind Chiharu for reviewing me. i spotted so many of amy boo boo's, its difficult when my spell chacker is out of order. poor thing, he's been to sick to crack a whip over. well, this is redone, but nothing much. just somehting to satisfy the mind.

Chapter 1.

What words are there to describe the most exquisite joy in existence? Elation?

Burgundy shades blurred his vision; senses reeled as a sharp, bitter sweet taste filled his mouth.

"K-kami-sama ..."

Though he had been utterly numbed, he could still distinguish the familiar feel of a smile tugging at the side of his lips, twisting into a feral grin as his sense returned to him, giving him the satisfaction he longed for.

Lying on cold, unforgiving tatami, he felt a warmth leave him, resigned to pooling around him instead. It never hurt. Pallid skin adorned with liquid rubies felt none of the raw sensation that played throughout his body.

It was a pitiful sight, a boy of sixteen with the fairest golden hair and the palest complexion, lying prone on a tatami mat. It seemed a calm sight, almost peaceful.

Skin that longed the caress of sunlight was clothed in the folds of a voluptuous yukata. Albeit, one too large for the delicate, fragile frame it hung of.

Hair of the lightest sunflowers glinted in the dying rays of the sun, its scarlet hues giving the entire room a crimson glow. He lay on the woven reed flooring of a traditional Japanese home complete with rice paper windows and sliding doors.

Temple bells chimed in the back of his mind, their tunes almost pitiful, mourning. But why? Why when it was such a beautiful day? If it weren't for the katana he had sprouted from his chest, in all rights it would have been a beautiful end to the day.

Footsteps racing down wooded floors reached his ears as he tilted his head in their general direction, light burgundy hues meeting his eyes, soothing. Yes. They were soothing. The sight of his doors being open however, was alien. A sunset, in its full glory met emerald eyes, not hues this time, but a true, glorious sunset.

Just as his sliding panels were thrown open, a rush of emotions hit him with the subtle force of a tidal wave:

Loathing.hate.worry.canitbe?disdain.curiosity.horror.mercyhesgoingtodie.what amigoingtodo?werealldoomed.thefamilycurse.poorchild.deathtothedemonspawn.is h edeadyet?guilt.worry.Anxiety.whatifanyonefindsout?themastersgoingtogoinsane. impatience.itsabouttime.damnedcreature.finally,hisend,myjoy

Writhing, the boy buried his face into moist pillows, regretting to have chosen this particular time of the day to grant himself release. It was dinner time and his servant had passed by, noticing the strange sound of dripping fluids, had decided to investigate. Upon drawing back the bolted sliding doors, a scream died stillborn in her throat a she froze at the sight.

Shades of red coated the walls; it would have been a beautiful sight, had the paint not been the essence of her master's son.

"...Damn..."

The tidal wave of emotions enveloped him; drowning him in foreign thought as his close to non-existent shields failed him miserably.

"You coward." The words rang clear, as though their speaker were completely oblivious to the sight before him.

"Actions may be interpreted differently." Thin lips twisting into a grin from where he lay, eyes shut as the light overhead began to blind him. Damn, this was taking too long. His hopes of slipping away quietly shattered as his speaker continued their heated discussion.

"Nonetheless. Cowardice is poor conduct, even on your part." The speakers tone was cold, almost disdainful, as though his presence was not worth the pathetic figure on the floor. The tunes of the voice seemed too familiar, but the familiarity was slipping away, as though the darkness seemed to grow increasingly darker.

"Would you consider fearing a child of 2 years..." 'What was the word?' he thought, shaking his head as he fought for lucidity. "Cowardice?"

An intense silence filled the tiny chamber, neither spoke. The man looming over the prone form shifted only slightly, coming to kneel by the side of the dying boy.

Pale lips twisted into a victorious grin, soon becoming more of a feral snarl as a reply rang true.

"Running away from your demons will never alleviate your situations. You just offer them time to lick their wounds." The softness in the tone contained more of its familiarity; the blinded boy finally gave face to the speaker, a voice he heard so often, yet from such a distance that the deep rumble of his voice forgotten, alongside the contours of a memorable face.

"You ran from me." came a whispered response. Childish logic was such a beautiful thing, it made a torture chamber seem like a gingerbread house and death seem like a long nap.

But he wasn't a child anymore, was he? All the boy heard was the gentle rustle of cloth, a faint gust of wind as the speaker brushed by him.

The faint tinkle of clay prayer bells reached near-deaf ears. Each ring was said to bring blessings upon the house that kept them.

'This must be their demented form of a blessing.' He thought. 'You gods, laugh it up funny boys, once I get there, you'll want to alter your ideas of blessing.' Wrinkling his nose, he realized. 'unless I get locked away there too.'

"Of all the places in the house. It had to be here." The words held none of the sting he thought they would, instead he felt nothing as the respite faded into an eerie echo. He knew what the voice meant, he would have preferred the boy to die in the fields, where his blood would mingle with earth and the rain would wash away the sin.

The darkling void became more ominous, its presence looming ever closer as his empathy trickled away like. Slipping through his grasp like sand through his fingers.

"I despise you." He gritted through blue lips, the lack of coherent thought evident as his eyes failed to open completely. A bizarre sense of euphoria seemed to envelope him, a soft numbness that sent torrents of relaxation through his body.

He almost didn't feel the cold.

He almost didn't sense the apprehension.

He definitely did not see the tears he thought would never have fallen for him.

"And I, you." Was said. Voice as dispassionate as it had always been. And that was all he felt.

His vision dissipated as shades of the darkest garnet danced behind closed lids, like flamenco dancers around a fire.

The sea of his life was finally ebbing, a flickering candle on a windy night.

A last smile appearing as 3 years of contained insanity and mental abuse ended with a final breath.

A final sigh escaping lips as cold as winter.

fare well

well, that was chapter 1. my first fic and alreadi tis lookin' bleak. oh well. Till we meet again.