Well, this is certainly a departure from my usual Yami no Matsuei fair. If any of you have read volume five of the manga (Fairy Tale/Story Book Arc), there's a picture in one of Tatsumi's flashbacks of Tsuzuki with blood pouring out of his eyes. That's what originally inspired this fanfic. Additional inspiration came from Kyoto Arc and Akuma no Toriru, specifically the scenes where Tsuzuki tells Hisoka about his childhood and when he's posessed by Saagatanasu.
For anyone who is not familiar with Ruka (manga only), she's Tsuzuki's sister.
Enjoy. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated.
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Purple.
He only saw it when he gazed into a pool of water or glanced at his reflection in a mirror, but
when he did see it, it consumed him. A rushing sensation, like being thrust under water and beginning to drowning, would come to him and he would loose control, falling into a deep, unfeeling void. His screams would be choked by the suffocating dark. All he saw was that gleaming passion, that dying amethyst.
Something always brought him back to the world of feelings. A frog rippling the water around it,
making small circles that grew larger and larger until they smoothed away, or the sounds of Ruka
humming as she cleaned the table in the next room.
She had brown ones, emanating a warmth like a kitchen fire. It seemed they were always smiling,
so full of love.
His were not like hers. His were haunted, cursed.
The village boys told him that they were a sign he was a demon. He would destroy their
village. He would feed on the children and make everyone sick. He would hurt Ruka.
It was too late for that.
They had beaten him again, chased him into a field with tall grasses as they hit him with sharpened sticks and chanted wards. He would run, knowing he would be caught but never truly fighting it.
What if they were right? What if he was a demon? He certainly wasn't a human. Humans didn't
have purple eyes.
Ruka had found him. She had carried him in her arms, mindful of the swollen brownish bruises
and deep cuts that always seemed to fade and heal too quickly. At the house, she would wash
him off, talking softly as she combed the dirt and twigs out of his hair with her fingers.
That night, she had cried.
- - - - - - -
He stares into the glass, seeing his reddened purple eyes and tear-stained cheeks. It is even
stronger now. It likes the red. The creature within him stirs, chuckles, tries to devour him. He is
being sucked in.
No. Won't let you hurt anyone anymore.
He had found a small fragment in the kitchen. A glass jar had broken last night.
He raises it to the purple.
A tear trickles down the side of his nose as he stabs.
[Gasp.
Shudder.
Dyed in red.