From the Ashes, a yami no matsuei fanfic

A/N: The standard disclaimer... I do not own Yami no Matsuei, just this fanfic. ;P Nor do I own the song I used (Mama, by My Chemical Romance). Enjoy the angst, and please review. It only takes a second, even if you don't have an account! Danke. :D

It was the hottest night of summer.

The moon was full over the city of Kyoto, dulled in brilliance only due to the ravishing lights of the city; the mechanical reds, neon greens and golds stole the stage from Mother Nature night after night. Despite the fact that the ancient city continuously lost ground to the ever-encroaching sprawl of human civilization, there were still pockets of wilderness that played sanctuary for those less inclined to mingle with those who called the concrete jungles their home.

It was in one of these sanctuaries that an old house, at least a century old, stood firm. The cobwebs and layers of dust were testament to the passage of time and, were anyone to step foot across the unseen line between the rest of the world and this place, they would likely eye the apparently abandoned abode with a strange sense of nervousness and quickly move on. Fear was an interesting creature.

From inside one of the outward-facing rooms, a figure watched from the shadows as the girl, a lost hiker no doubt, paused about twenty paces from the front door. Muraki could see the doubt in her beautiful, dark eyes; she was afraid. A smile played across his lips as he judged the distance between himself and the thin, quivering human. Without even blinking, he picked up a notebook and checked a list of dates. It had been two weeks... a little too long. He inclined his head just a degree, picking up a pen and writing down the day's date as a shriek-- cut short by a barely audible crack-- rose from twenty paces away. The nightlife went silent, the only noise from outside being a dragging noise and a soft rustle as the shadows re-arranged themselves into their previous positions. Muraki noted to himself that he would have to watch the missing persons report on the news in a few days to see exactly who she'd been.

He picked up the other notebook, going back to the large, meticulously dusted lounge sofa in the corner of the room. Leaning back on the soft, burgundy fabric, he reached out for the wine glass that hadn't been there minutes ago and sipped the warm, red liquid. The doctor licked his lips and read over what had been written thus far.

Mama, we all go to hell

I'm writing this letter and wishing you well

Mama, we all go to hell

"Dear mother,

How are you, I wonder? Though less how you are, and more where you are. Are you in 'heaven', like you always said you wanted to be? Or are you down in the core of Hell, where you belong? I suppose I shouldn't judge-- I'm likely following in your footsteps."

Muraki took another sip of the blood, putting his pen to paper and resuming the letter.

"It's been twenty-three years. You'd be amazed just how much can happen in that short of a time. Or maybe not, you know better than anyone about just how quickly life can change. I never used to believe you, but I know now that you were right. For the better or for the worse, life can change within days. Hours, minutes even. I think it was the only sane thing you taught me."

Oh well, now

Mama, we're all gonna die

Stop asking me questions, I'd hate to see you cry

Mama, we're all gonna die

"The first few days were the hardest. On one hand, you and father were gone; I lost the only security I'd known. On the other hand, I was finally free. I could do what I want, become who I wanted to be. I didn't have the two of you whispering in my ear anymore. Of course, I was more concerned about the one hand than the other, as the only family I had left was most assuredly not the family I ever wanted to be left alone to-- not that you ever cared about that.

I was always your angel, you said. But I was not your god. No, that was Saki's job."

And when we go don't blame us, yeah

We'll let the fires just bathe us, yeah

You made us oh, so famous

We'll never let you go

And when you go don't return to me my love

"How do you like that irony now, mother? That your light, your savior, betrayed you? That you all cast me down for being too weak, too imperfect-- and now I'm the only one left standing, picking up the pieces. And there's so many of those that sometimes I wonder if I should even bother. You always taught me that things were always the most beautiful when broken; it gave them purpose.

And the true irony there is that I was never free at all. You made sure of that."

Mama, we're all full of lies

Mama, we're meant for the flies

And right now they're building a coffin your size

Mama, we're all full of lies

"You made sure that for all my life, you'd be there, whispering in my ear. Driving everything I would ever do-- if not to make me more like you, then to be nothing like you. And I never, never wanted to be anything like any of you. I never wanted to be a puppet, an object, a mindless drone like you. I never wanted to be killer, a power-hungry and insane son of a bitch like father. I had hoped that Saki got the worst of both of you."

Well Mother, what the war did to my legs and to my tongue

You should've raised a baby girl

I should've been a better son

If you could coddle the infection

They can amputate at once

You should've been

I could have been a better son

"But hopes don't matter in the face of reality. And the reality is that I was a puppet-- I let you shape me, mold me, even when I went against everything you and father would have wanted me to do. I did it because of you-- to escape you. Well, here I am, mother. Is this what you wanted? Are you proud of what I have become? Are you proud that, like father, I have blood on my hands?

This isn't the life I wanted. This is the life you dealt me. I can see you now, chastising me for not being strong enough, for not being able to worm out from under your influence. I can see father laughing at it all, and Saki mocking me like he always did. But it's not my fault, I know now-- no one can help what they were trained to be, what their blood makes them. Blame me for being weak all you want, the true blame rests on your shoulders.

... Why weren't you there? Why did you let this happen?"

And when we go don't blame us, yeah

We'll let the fires just bathe us, yeah

You made us, oh, so famous

We'll never let you go.

"I am a murderer. And it is all thanks to you."

She said: You ain't no son of mine

For what you've done they're gonna find

A place for you

And just you mind your manners when you go

And when you go, don't return to me, my love

"But you were wrong, mother. All three of you were wrong.

I was the strong one. Every day proves it. I'm alive, I'm surviving. I'm in control of my own destiny now. I might not be able to change who and what I am, but I have something that you never had-- a purpose. I have created my own purpose, not to be like you or to escape you, but to change the world. Maybe for the better, maybe not. But I will not be an ineffectual puppet, and I will not submit to aimless ambition. If I die, I will die laughing, standing on my own two feet. Not on my knees, begging.

Not like you."

Mama, we all go to hell

It's really quite pleasant

Except for the smell

Mama, we all go to hell

"I hope you suffer. I hope you all suffer like the worthless slime you were. You were the weak ones, and you got everything you deserved."

We're damned after all

Through fortune and flame we fall

And if you can stay then I'll show you the way

To return from the ashes you crawl

"I will never let you control me again. It ends tonight."

The pen stopped.

Muraki removed the pages, folding them neatly and tucking them into his shirt pocket as he emptied the wine glass and wandered about the room, calmly packing his belongings like usual. He set the plane ticket to Germany on top of the single suitcase, checked his watch and left the room. Footprints appeared on the floor behind him; twenty-three years worth of dust displaced at the man walked to the empty living room and stood in its doorway.

We all carry on

When our brothers in arms are gone

After a few moments, he walked to the center of the room and brushed the dust away with one hand. The bloodstain had faded, but it was still there. Muraki set the letter down upon the splash of black, lighting a cigarette and casually touching the flame to the paper before walking out, leaving the lighter just close enough to the growing licks of red.

So raise your glass high

For tomorrow we die

And return from the ashes you crawl.

"There was nothing left," the voice on the phone said to Muraki an hour later. "Just a pile of ashes. They've been convinced that it was fault wiring."

"Thank you, Oriya."

"Always."

Muraki closed the disposable phone, smiling to himself as he dropped it into the fountain near the terminal and boarded his flight. The plane lifted into the air soon after, leaving land and sea behind as it floated up towards the stars.