Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Princess Miyu.
The lilting tones of a flute danced through the dark streets, its melodious tune soothing, yet haunting at the same time. If one listened carefully enough, he would hear the slight edge of bitterness in the song. The inhabitants of the houses were oblivious to the music, warmly wrapped in the arms of sleep.
The moon shone steadily from its spot in the center of the starry sky, embracing the dark streets and houses throughout the city. From a distance, a bell chimed twelve times, signaling the darkest hour of the night. All was quiet, save for the occasional sounds of night animals scurrying around, and the dulcet tones from the flute.
The tune continued for some time. It was more than obvious that this was no simple music written to be played by many. This song was heartfelt, inspired by the complex feelings that a heart would feel. With a final soulful note, the song ended, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. Miyu's hands fell to her lap, her beloved flute clutched in her hands. She waited expectantly for a moment before a voice broke the silence.
"Miyu."
She had heard him approach her a while ago, but had continued playing, disregarding his presence. His footsteps were near inaudible, yet to her heightened senses, they were loud and clear. She had long learned the pattern of his sure, steady steps, and could practically feel his aura coming from behind her. He felt at peace, which made her fingers tighten slightly around her flute. The movement was barely noticeable, yet his sharp eyes had caught her uneasiness.
"Miyu, what is it?"
His warm, baritone voice enriched her senses, and she closed her eyes with a sigh. It sometimes frightened her, the way he could read her so easily. Be it a slight stumble in her sure step, or a stutter in her words, Larva would always be the one to notice it.
But right now, he demanded an answer, and it was inevitable.
"You know what's wrong," she replied simply.
Silence engulfed them for a long moment before Larva spoke again.
"I'm sorry."
One delicate eyebrow rose, before Miyu's impassive façade came back on.
"Why are you sorry? You haven't done anything wrong."
They both knew that was a lie. When she didn't speak for a long time, Larva knew what to do.
"I went to see a girl," Larva confessed, his voice strong and sure. Miyu knew his voice well enough to take note of the hint of guilt, as well as awe, as he continued speaking.
"She lives in the Shibuya district, with her grandmother. He parents were killed shortly after her birth."
"Why the fascination?" Miyu asked, her voice a bit sharper than she had intended.
To say this was bothering her would be an understatement. For the past two weeks, Larva had spent most of his free time watching over a young girl, at all times of the day. Miyu knew Larva was not into pedophilia, nor did indecent thoughts cross his mind. The girl was at the tender age of eight, and unlike her carefree peers, she was quiet and kept to herself.
From the very first time Larva had caught sight of the girl, Miyu had noticed, but did not say a word. It was shortly after sending a Shinma, who had an obsession with bright lights in the Shibuya district, into the darkness. Larva had simply looked up and saw the frail girl, staring into the night sky from her balcony. It had taken one look, and Larva watched her. At first, Miyu had thought he had caught sight of another Shinma, yet she had caught sight of a flicker of something in his eyes. It was like a spark of light, one that Miyu had rarely seen. The light didn't die out until he had tore his gaze from her and continued to walk by Miyu's side.
Throughout the following week, Larva watched the girl. He never approached her, and she was oblivious to her new guardian. It was sweet in a way. Miyu adored children, yet she had felt a tug in her chest. A sharp tear that threatened to render her breathless whenever she thought of the girl with the light brown eyes. The feeling was foreign to her, but if she had to name it, she would grudgingly admit it was jealousy. Age and years held no significance to them, and Miyu felt…jealous of something.
Larva's voice tore Miyu from her thoughts abruptly.
"The girl – the way she holds herself, the way she looks, the way her eyes speak for her, they all enchant me. The sadness in the air surrounding her, it all fits her perfectly. Her beauty is astonishing, and her pale skin makes her transcendent. I could go on for the entire night, yet I still wouldn't be able to describe how she has caught my attention."
There it was again, that sharp tug at her heart. Miyu clutched onto her flute even tighter. She could feel moisture at the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill over any second. All the feelings were so foreign, yet so familiar to her. She couldn't understand the turmoil she felt inside, yet her heart whispered to her that yes, yes she did, and she knew perfectly well why she felt that way.
"She reminds me of you."
Five simple words, yet her mind barely registered them before she gasped softly.
"She reminds me of how you looked like and how you acted the first time we met, especially during those dark times when I mistrusted you, at the very beginning. Her eyes, especially, her eyes are such an unusual color, and they capture every emotion she feels inside, just like yours."
"Oh Larva," she said, wanting to turn around to face him, yet her body failed to act accordingly.
As if sensing the tears she had almost shed moments before, he said, "She can never replace you, Miyu. You are unique, and you have entrapped my heart better than she ever can. Her resemblance to you has shocked me is all."
He continued softly, "I wish I could look at you, look into your eyes and look at your every move all the time."
She felt him approach her hesitantly, assessing her every move, every breath to see if he should back away. He found nothing that discouraged him, and she gasped again as she felt his warm hands slip around her waist.
"I wish I could hold you the way I want to."
He rested his chin on her shoulder, his mouth an inch from her ear. His warm breath fanned across her neck as he spoke his next words, causing a shudder to travel through her body.
"I wish I could tell you what I feel every time I see you."
One pale hand reached gently to entwine his fingers with hers, her heartbeat racing. Her cheeks were flushed, and she leaned into his warmth. She felt his other hand reach towards her chin hesitantly, prepared to withdraw should he feel her rejection.
"I wish I could feel, feel the softness of your lips."
A finger slid gently across her lower lip, then her upper, tracing their shape and feeling their softness beneath his sensitive fingertips. He could feel the short pants coming from her mouth. His fingers gently glided across her cheek before settling at her chin once more. He tilted her face slightly to face his, his eyes staring deep into her own. It was as if he was staring into her soul.
"I wish I could feel the softness of your lips," he repeated once more.
Without another word, he lowered his mouth to her quivering lips, his eyes never leaving hers until their lips met. His eyes slid close and he felt the moisture from her eyes running down her cheeks to where his hand rested on her cheek.
Their lips met in a chaste kiss, and a new day began.