Self-Love
"The punishment of the selfish is dying without affection"
Looked, with glassy eyes, round container where a flickering flame orange-golden danced. He was surrounded by seven of those containers, each containing and protecting one of the Seven Flames of the Sky; but among them, only one called his attention. The flame that once dominated and the same as someone of high importance to you dominated accurately.
Sitting in the cold ground, the man did not move one millimeter and even came to flash; could easily be compared to a wax statue surrounded with darkness and wearing clothes that evil highlighted in the shadows. Beside him, on the ground, a top hat was present, pristine, and under the same a pair of white velvet gloves.
Blinked, showing some simple sign of life beyond the dazzling brightness of its color charcoal eyes, but even that made a difference in quiet dark room.
Giving up just watching, the man reached out toward the rounded container and it wasn't long before the sound of chains dragging on the ground echoed, while the same container where the golden flame danced, approached the shadowy figure.
When the container has already been found near enough, the dark-haired man was almost trembling with a mixture of nervousness and anxiety. It was so hot and at the same time, cold; a consistent cold that made the brunette bitterly regretted what he had done. But even that repentance and disgust for their actions were large enough to destroy it inside him, yet yes, wanted to with all those - deserved - feelings. Because they were the only thing that gave him certain taste of humanity.
Closed his eyes, waving to the chains again carry the container to its rightful place, and in the same movement took the hat and gloves at his side. Deposited in a too slow action for you, the top hat on his head and then stood up wearing gloves with a thorough and unnecessary accuracy.
He turned his back and the clink of chains shadows swallowed him. The silence was cruel in the dark and empty eternity, and when he felt the ground under his feet again the man was in the corridor; long, dark and dim. Soon to start walking with a course that, for himself, had a familiarity that should not exist.
In little more than fifteen minutes had reached the uniqueness of an entry with door no longer existed, the only proof that this room came to have a grotesque were the marks that had been left on the side of the entrance and also the curved hinges that were still embedded in the cement. Ignoring the terrifying darkness that soaked the room, after all was accustomed to it, the man continued his journey; now and then a little light showed itself on one side, this belonging to the water-filled tanks where human bodies wrapped in cloths and chains - this together to endless tubes tended to keep each alive - were on the weak light.
After passing an average of five or six tanks, reached an extremely familiar and appreciated. Only the thick glass and the cold murky waters separated the dark-haired man of slim figure, chained and weakened within the large aquatic prison.
At no time looked away pale skin, or brown yarn, long due to the extensive time that person was there, dancing in the transparent liquid. An oxygen masks allow breathing while tubes connected to his arms and back, allowed his body still remained alive.
Subtly lifted a hand and touched the glass that distanced his precious prisoner. Even with the velvet glove of his protection, the guard could feel the coldness of the liquid lying standing there inside the tank, and came to ask how the girl stand in there; but the reality came to him when he realized that the young brown-haired didn't feel because he was unconscious, in an induced sleep that man would guard and keep forever; as the relic that the maiden was for himself.
Closer, leaning his forehead against the glass while - before such action - his hat collapsed a thud against the ground. But even this had caused some change in the environment around him. It was the same, it was always the same even before the teen, or rather woman with brown hair get.
Did how long? One year? Two? And then the Vindice blinked again, looking up at his serene and joyful face, which seemed not to be affected by time; like a doll well preserved. So man's lips opened in understanding changes and a longing barely contained.
Did twelve. Twelve years ago he saw the beautiful, tranquilizers and sweets brown golden orbs that he had - and still has - the gift and the potential to be the most powerful boss that the Vongola will never come to have.
And embittered, Bermuda laughed. Was so pathetically ridiculous that, but he didn't regret because now Tsunayoshi was yours and yours alone.
Your precious treasure.
His dear angel.
He wanted her since I first saw; wanted it as never wanted anything before. It was obvious that the disgust for himself, helplessness, hatred and many others were factors that made him keep away from the beautiful Sawada initially; but when Tsunayoshi fought with him when she won so formidable and attractive way, Bermuda Von Vichtenstein found himself unable to contain himself for long.
The inheritance ceremony was close, so the teenager would become a Chief, one Donna, and would not have time for anything, not a relationship - not that the dark haired man harbored some hope that Tsunayoshi would give him a chance, he was realistic, knew the young man feared more than anything else. And out impulsiveness and selfishness of wanting that figure so small, so fragile and yet so perfect and imposing; the leader Vindice hunted all forms to make your precious treasure not adhere to the position of Tenth, and behold, his chance came when he had discovered that one of the legitimate children of the Ninth was alive, lost, but alive; and that had been enough.
Frederico had returned and to see Bermuda, Tsunayoshi would no longer be required to Vongola; even though she has fought and trained, however great they were his victories, it was still not the original daughter of the Ninth, which made it one piece for the Vongola was not extinct.
Of course, the Vongola not think so, Tsunayoshi Sawada was the Tenth, that - of course - the leader Vindice there were no taken with him and trapped in the insulation tanks where only he and his subordinates had access.
Obvious that no Vindice out against the decision of his boss. Bermuda is Bermuda, and your choices are the rule and law.
And so it is the outcome of a one-sided love where you never get care, or any other emotion. Forever Bermuda will enjoy it, and forever Tsunayoshi will be stuck in dreamland, immutable and free from freedom. Maybe I was dreaming of something good, but it was not important to the man who now bent down to pick up his hat. All that mattered to Vichtenstein was that his beloved treasure still there for him, forever.
End.