Crushed
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.
I never dreamed that I'd find myself in the middle of a field of wildflowers on a sunny day.
No, I take that back. I never thought. I never dreamed anymore, as it was. Ever since my rebirth. Dreams were useless when you had everything you had ever wanted – respect, power, control…
But here I was, in a field of violently colored flowers, on a briskly breezy day with the sunlight hurting my head. I sat on a grassy knoll, as far away from the clusters of flowers as possible. The surroundings were positively bursting with false happiness – grass so green that it must have been painted, perfectly symmetrical hills; a clear blue sky with a sun that I swore was smiling.
I scowled, searching around for a tree to shelter under. Surely this picturesque landscape must have tall, leafy trees. Yet I could find none. The artist must have forgotten, I thought sourly.
The black cloak weighed down on me, making me feel weary as well as hot. I lowered my head, trying to make myself smaller, trying to avoid the piercing rays of the sun…
No! I would never try to diminish. I was bigger than that – than giving up, than letting someone – or something – else win. I straightened my back, staring straight ahead, wondering why I hadn't left yet.
Then I saw it. A small flower growing by my booted foot, with pale pink petals. I bent my head, strangely curious about the little flower. It swayed gently in the playful breeze, looking so delicately fragile with the sunlight turning its petals translucent. It had two minute leaves, both growing on one side of the stem, making it appear lopsided.
I examined the flower broodingly, speculating on why it had caught my attention. It quivered once more, bobbing to and fro. I almost smiled at the sight.
But it was once it had stopped moving, once the wind had passed, that I realized why I had bothered giving a tiny wildflower the time of day.
Because before my eyes, I saw a face in the heart of the flower. A thin face, with a pointed chin, a sharp nose with glasses set upon it, hiding passionate gray eyes. I couldn't look away, even though I wanted to, even though I knew I was just imagining his face.
A miniature replica of Syrus' face stared steadily back at me, his eyes wide. I tried to blink, tried to pull myself away from his searching gaze, but I was helpless before him. As just as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone.
My gaze was frozen on the flower while my hands clenched into fists around the grass. Reflexively, I pulled, tearing up sod. I stared blankly at the dead grass in my hands, still trailing soil. Almost tired of destruction, I relaxed my fingers and let the grass drop.
I avoided looking at the flower again, because I knew what I would see next. A blurred image of my former self, complete with a stoic expression that hid a smile. An intense pressure built up just above my ribcage, and I clutched the spot with one hand, trying to will the pain away.
The flower stayed completely still without a breeze to disturb it. I glared at it, hating it suddenly with a strength I didn't know I had. I hated it because it represented all I had been once I had left Duel Academy – it represented my hopes to succeed in the pro league. It stood for the old Zane, who always respected others, who didn't demand respect for himself. I plucked the solitary wildflower, studying it again, noticing how its faint veins showed when it was held to the sun.
And I crushed it between my fingers, because I didn't need Zane. I needed to eradicate all traces of him, like I had burnt his old Obelisk Blue uniform and I had thrown his cards in the ocean. Zane was dead, and Hell Kaiser lived. I couldn't let myself become weak and try to seek redemption. I watched emotionlessly as the remnants of the flower fluttered to the grass, and I stood, bringing my foot down on the remains and grinding them into oblivion. After that, I turned and walked away, never looking back.
AN: … wow, that was totally random. Hmm. Well, it's basically just Hell Kaiser in a field of flowers(yeah, weird, huh?). And some reflection. I tried to portray a kind of battle between Zane and Hell Kaiser, but it didn't totally work out. Somehow, I liked the symbolism of Hell Kaiser crushing a flower, like crushing the last remains of Zane's soul. I'm terribly morbid right now, sorry.