A solitary black rose.
That was all Sawaki required to know precisely what she sought after from him.
He pulled loose the ribbon that secured his hair and let his dirty blonde tresses run freely. His amethyst eyes intensified on the flower that was in his hands, the smooth dark petals tenderly brushing along the contours of his hand. A gentle sigh left his lips and he closed his eyes. He took in the fragrance of the rose, charcoal and the rose's unyielding scent apparent to his senses.
It means she would be counting. Counting the days left until she would run and Sawaki would have to follow. He smiled softly as he began his passage into the nighttime labyrinth, knowing why she would be at the center. The path that leads to the heart was familiar to him and he steps hastily but silently. He continues this stride until he catches her voice. It sang soundlessly of the roses she had planted for herself to count.
九百九十九のバラ。。。
999 days until Ryuko would try to murder Sawaki. 999 days to organize for the escape and 999 roses to observe the run.
9 rows of pure rubicund roses flourished in rings of scrubs in front of a small white marble pagoda, all with 111 roses in each circling row.
But only a single black rose bloomed for Sawaki.
To him, the most beautiful rose in this whole labyrinth was the one blooming in the pagoda. With locks - a waterfall - of shadowy ink and adoring scarlet eyes, Shadownia held the gaze of roses. Abysmal were the pools of blood but soft were the petals of the identical blossoming roses. Insipid ivory skin shone in moonlight, an ethereal limelight shining upon magnificence. Her charcoal dark claws braced her childlike face on one hand while another elegantly flicks and turns a black feather pen, recording her thoughts in gorgeous calligraphy. She sits upon one of four pristine marble stools that circle the large table centered to the equally white pagoda. A china tea set sits in front of her with the scent of Darjeeling carried by the light draft that softly grazes the heart of the labyrinth and through the pagoda at the labyrinth's very core. The breeze seems to pass her by, as her familiar red velvet lined black trench coat rested across another stool. Her bright cerise corset tank top with golden buttons and a diamond cut, indigo belt, silver slacks, and black boots didn't stand out too much from the low surrounding walls of roses. Even though the breeze shifted many things surrounded by the labyrinth, the dark shade that enclosed her face was not one of them.
"Shadownia?"
Sawaki captured that crimson rose gaze at last. At the sound of her name, the girl's face graciously turns to attention and embraces a sweet joy upon her mild features, a soft but cheerful smile etched on her lips. Her rosy eyes relaxed from the cold and hard light that they took on when she was pensive and met Sawaki's amethyst gaze with much love. Crimson and violet watched each other for a few anxious instants, unsure of what might pass through each other's lips. Shadownia's deep and baritone voice coos out adroitly to Sawaki.
"I'm glad you came to me."
"I could never refuse a very special girl's request in the form of a black rose, now could I?"
Shadownia giggled; a rough but sultry sound.
"Ever the silver tongue, Sawaki. You amuse me just by the dialogue that leaves your mouth."
"Glad my mouth could please you so, Shadownia."
Sawaki's indulgent smirk turns into a haughty grin at the spectacle of Shadownia's mild grin turning into an embarrassed pout at his elusive innuendo. The blood red scar - in the shape of a fang - below her eye forms along the curves of her face as they contorted to the immature scowl adorned on her precious face. Sawaki smiles and takes place on a stool next to her. He runs his hands through her tresses before gathering a single lock and admires its softness.
"Why do you like playing with my hair so much?"
"No reason."
Shadownia reels her eyes and drops her gaze back to the leather-bound parchment, her hands dipping the feather pen in murky ink. She initiated the calligraphy lines once again. Sawaki curled the strands about his finger then uncoiled them at his leisure. An amusement struck him soon after.
"Shadownia, may I pluck one rose?"
"Yes, after all it's our first night of preparation for a horrible tragedy."
Sawaki stifled his laughter with a chuckle.
"A tragedy indeed."
He acquired the long tress of Shadownia's hair and began weaving the rose into it.
"What are you doing, Sawaki?"
"Making you beautiful."
"Aw, aren't I beautiful enough previously?"
"You're gorgeous."
Shadownia giggled at the acclamation from her precious friend. She paused her writing and began to draft a sketch. As Sawaki laced the rose into her hair, the outlines upon parchment morphed into a portrait. When the fair haired man had finished entwining the rose into Shadownia's hair and glimpsed the portrayal, the image left him breathless.
Shadownia had drawn a portrait of Sawaki and herself, she; sitting on a great throne and Sawaki positioned to the right, balancing a silver platter; atop it, an Italian marble vase brimming with a bouquet of full roses. Each strike of ink upon the aging parchment was so delicate and detailed, even the curvatures of the rose petals were given much flatter. Shadownia was upon the throne with the bearing of a regal king, her expression presenting subtle but powerful resilience and authority. Sawaki's left hand based itself on Shadownia's shoulder while the right carried the rose bouquet in front of him, obscuring his higher torso but showing minor indications of his strong svelte physique. Sawaki distinguished the prominence on his manifestation in the portrait, the lighting and prescence emphasizing his existence.
"Why is it always like this?"
"For the focus of the portrait to be on you?"
"Yes."
Shadownia cupped Sawaki's cheek, distorted by his a small fusion of irritation and disappointment. She lowered her lids to half-mast, scarlet spheres hypnotizing Sawaki. The older man couldn't resist and fell willing victim to the seduction from his beloved girl's eyes. It wasn't until her tongue started probing at the slit of his lips and her fangs nipping on his bottom lip did he realize that Shadownia mouth was on his. Sawaki submitted easily to her advances and her dominance, sanctioning her tongue to waltz in his mouth. Fangs and teeth collided, tongues invaded the other mouth. Shadownia's claws draped around his neck and heaved him closer to the younger girl, only to take one to grasp with a vice. Sawaki couldn't repel the passionate and carnal daze over him and lifted her into his arms only to slam her into the fine grass flanking the labyrinth pagoda.
Sawaki drowned into her kiss, her touch, and her eyes. His vibrant violet gaze was harmonized with glossy cherry; wet and slick with lust. His flaxen strands formed a golden veil around their faces, sealing them in their own realm. Long after their lips left each other yet their hands sustained being entwined. Sawaki had collapsed beside Shadownia and held his darling girl while she weaved their legs together. Silence didn't endure between them.
"That's why?"
"Yes."
"Roses?"
"Red roses."
Sawaki smiled and kissed her once more before surrendering to sleep amongst 998 crimson roses.
We need to put Sawaki on the character list! He's good-looking enough...right?