Warning : spoilers ahead , read only after finishing the game.
PS. author's note also contains spoilers.
A/N : Two years before the event of Madfather happens, trying to get what's in the father's head. Inspired after seeing the final scene (after getting 21 gems), specifically the 'matured Aya in the tub', who reminds me of Snow White, which in turn reminds me of one article I read about a dark fic about that fairytale. Lines in italic are father's inner thought.
My Snow White
There lies my love, skin white as snow, hair black as raven, lips red as blood, and body cold as the death itself.
I repeat those words in my head. A line from a fairytale I once read in my younger years. I usually preferred medical or science books over, but there's something in that one fairytale intrigued me.
A princess, beautiful even in death, or is it the death that makes her more beautiful?
Let's put more into that, it is said that the dwarves put her, who had eaten the poisonous apple, in a glass coffin for who knew how long. If she was really dead at the moment, wouldn't her physique go rotten? As a doctor myself, I thought of the possibility of her being in dormant state, but the closed glass coffin would deprive her of oxygen and eventually kill her. Either way, the princess would end up dead by the time the prince found her. Maybe, there was really a way to preserve dead bodies in its best condition for a long time, but people always denied that it is ONLY a fairytale.
But the most disturbing, yet fascinates me the most, is the fact that when the prince found the princess, she was in her death state, even it was temporary. Meaning, the prince fell in love with a corpse, a dead woman, an unliving body. A necrophile, perhaps?
But people choose to not put light on the issue. Do they really not get it? Or do they just feint their ignorance, to protect children's dream? I chuckle at those thought. It is a taboo, afterall.
"Alfred?" a woman lazily calls my name from the right side of the bed I am laying on, "Are you awake?"
"Did I wake you up?" I replies, trying to sound like an actual caring husband.
"Why did you laugh?" now she turns her face to me, I can feel her lips forming a smile.
"Just something in the past," I stroke her cheek, "You should go back to sleep."
She lays her head on my shoulder and murmurs, "I can't wait for the morning." Then she closes her eyelids.
"Me too," I unconsciously smile. "Today is her birthday, afterall."
My princess, my sweet little princess, skin white as snow, hair black as raven, lips red as blood, and smile warm as the sun.
While drifting in my slumber, my thought goes back to that one fairytale's prince. Secretly, I kinda feel for him. I can understand his fascination to the beautiful corpse. Any beauty will eventually perish in time, as well as any purity, or any innocence, for those one day will be dirtied and corrupted, may it by nature, or by human's hands.
That's why, things becomes most beautiful when its time is stopped, by granting its death. Cold, pale body asking for one's affection. Hard, unmoving limbs, that will move as one's wish. And blank, soulless stare that makes one's heart tremble with delight.
Truly, death makes things beautiful. And one day, I'll also grant it to my wife beside me. To make her more beautiful than she ever be. Then, I'll grant it to my little princess, the one I love the most, the one who reminds me of Snow White so much, with taintless skin, ebony hair, and scarlet lips.
My little Snow White, skin white as snow, hair black as raven, lips red as blood, and smile warm as the sun.
From the first time I saw her, on the day she was born, all in her nakedness and covered in her mother's blood, she is the most angelic creature I has laid my eyes upon. Never in my life, I found such a captivating things. Even the dead faces of many lives taken by my hands, which I used to think as the most beautiful things before, was no more than a rubble in compared to her shining diamond.
She becomes the most precious thing for me. Her face, her voice, even all her little gestures are invaluable treasure. Not only that, each time I see her, she seemed to have changed a little, becoming more charming than before. Time to time, I found myself wondering how dazzling she'd be on her coming age.
But as she grows more and more enchanting each day, my worries and anxiety also becomes more and more unbearable. On the time her beauty reaches its peak, it will eventually wither and perish. I couldn't stand my own realization on the fact, even if it will eventually happen. I would choose to take her life with my own hands, rather than witnessing her radiance slowly died out like a lamp out of oil.
Then it finally struck me. That it is my duty to protect her and her loveliness. As her father, as her guardian, as the person who loves her more than anyone in this world. I'll find a way, to preserve her beauty, to make it eternal. So that even time could never rob my most precious thing away from me.
I bury myself on my papers and researches. I dedicate all of my energy, my time, and my thought, just for her, even it means I cannot be by her side. It pains me whenever she looks at me with her lonely and longing gazes. But I have to do it while I still got time, before her radiance reaches its peak…
My imperfect Snow White, skin white as snow, hair black as raven, lips red as blood, and smile warm as the sun.
"Good morning, Father."
I wake up to the voice of my angel, who is now beside me, standing in the left side of the bed. She flashes a big wide smile.
I notice a strange emptiness between her incisors, "Hmm? Did you lost your baby teeth, Aya?"
"Mmunghh… Father is mean…," she puffs her flushed cheeks. "Is that the only things you need to say, Father?" she complains.
"Sorry, sorry," I apologize at her, but she is still pouting. I smile at her cuteness. Not yet.
I lift her thick bangs and kiss her forehead.
"Happy 9th Birthday, Aya."
Only after that, she smiles at me again, showing her incomplete teeth. Not yet.
She then gives me a kiss in the cheek. "Thank you, Father. I love you."
"I love you too, Aya."
When I pat her heads, I notice the bright-colored fabric on her head. I ask, "New ribbon, Aya?"
She instinctively touches the particular objects. She nods, "Mom's present," while making lips into a wide curve.
I pat her head again. "Go to your Mom downstairs, okay? Father's going to take out your present."
Her smile becomes abit mischievous, while her eye sparks with excitement, "Okay, I'll wait downstairs, Father."
Then she walk hastily out of the room, I can hear her little footsteps rushing down the stairs.
"Always so full of energy," I smile. Not yet.
"She has become prettier again," I think to myself. "The ribbon suits her well." I put on my shirts.
But not yet, not yet. Some more years to fully ripen…
"Yes, she's still going to be more beautiful," I whisper, then put on my white lab coat.
Until she matures, until she reaches the peak of her beauty…
"And all my research will come into fruition…," I walk out from the bedroom.
My long-life dream will be fulfilled…
"The eternal beauty I sought… ," I peek into the first floor from the railing, looking for my princess.
"Father!" she finds me first. She is sitting on the floor, playing with her beloved pet rabbit.
I walk down the stairs, towards her. When I reach the last staircase, I open my arms, "Here's your present, Aya." She looks me with confused look, I continue, "A full day with Father." Her mother secretly told me her wish.
Her eyes widen, then she put down the rabbit and rushes to hug me, "Really, Father?"
"Of course, Aya," I let go of her hug and lift her on my chest. She is still light as feathers. Not yet.
She kisses my cheek again and says, "I love you, Father."
"I love you too, Aya," I hold her face next to mine. Then I proceed to walk to the garden outside, with my most precious thing on my chest.
My Snow White, skin white as snow, hair black as raven, lips red as blood, and smile warm as the sun.
But not perfect, not complete…
Not until that body had ripened into that of a woman…
Not until her sky-colored eyes had been deprived of her soul…
Not until the coldness of death had replaced her sun-like warmth…
For now, not yet…
Not yet…