Disclaimer: I do not own K Project or the wealth of characters that inhabit its universe. Those belong strictly to GoRa and GoHands. If they were mine, everything would be a mess.
How many nights had she awakened like this, covered in sweat and trembling in the dark? This time, there was no Mikoto to pull her out of the churning sea, no Tatara to shield her in a protective embrace as her world came crashing down on her all at once. Short pants escaped her mouth, minuscule puffs of smoke that soon dissipated into the abysmal shadows. Flicking a strand of cool, white hair away from her face, Anna slowly sank into her covers again, endeavoring to rest.
At her desire, she nearly let out a dark chuckle, devoid of mirth. Go back? She wished for life to spin around and reverse to a time when life was all smiles? She, the little Strain who saw all in the world and was forced to accept everything that came her way? Such arrogance, pathetic. Yet, her mind could not shake off the tantalizing wish, a decadent dream that gilded her mouth, and hurled her out a window every time. She might not be a child in the truest sense of the world, but she thinks that no adult really gives up on their lost dreams.
Unbidden, a memory swells in her mind, conjured from nothing, depicting a time before that lovely red. Warmth and fright and lies, building up around her, she the epicenter of the teetering destruction. The breaking point, her act of desperation, and the loss of life. Blood, blood on her hands, everywhere and nowhere, incapable of being shaken off. In those bleak days, only her aunt kept her from shattering into microscopic fragments.
It had not been enough, never had been enough.
Cold eyes, the curiosity in her nightmares, the monster who introduced her to chaos. Even now, his presence clawed at her mind, peering up every so often, as if to remind the fair haired Strain that she was never going to be capable of being free. Mixed in with the frigidity of those days was the emerging presence of a soft smile and bright laugh that introduced her to another world, a world she craved.
He was in the middle of it, a looming predator that did not frighten her in the slightest. Her monochromatic world was no longer an endless horizon of gray, in which she found nothing to keep herself rooted. Then the lovely red, a crimson that belonged to a person, a man that held destruction within, enduring his heavy burden with the resignation of a world weary adult.
Perhaps, that was exactly what he was. The images disappear, shoving her into a more recent picture, and she curls into a ball in response, crimson eyes shutting tightly, a flimsy barricade.
A brilliant smile that illuminated the room, and the boisterous laughter belonging to her Clansmen. Enjoyment, she has found her paradise, ever present in the folds of Homura. Like any swept away with the positive, focusing less on spiritual problems, than to more human relationships. She should know, that such gossamer bonds and delight to not last.
A tearful smile, eternal silence, and a few boxes of the precious memories Tatara worked so hard to keep behind. The downward spiral of Mikoto as he descended into destruction, throwing himself into getting revenge, spending everything for that one moment. The final image in her mind, his peaceful smile, and then waiting, with his arms stretched out, ready to embrace death.
"I'm sorry Anna...I won't be able to show you that lovely red anymore," his gravelly whisper, the last words traveled over their bond.
Too late, never enough. She was always too late to help another, never enough to keep them here, in this monochromatic world.
As her memories quieted, she felt herself slipping into oblivion, diving into it headlong, an escape from the shadows around her already.
Maybe here...she could find some peace.
Author's note: Well, this story...I don't know. It started out as one thing, and became another. How do I say it...I think I have been gone from writing way too long. Bah, too poetic, to free with bigger words. Boring, drags on...I really am my worst critic. Well, in this, I just wanted to explore a self reflection Anna might have had after his death, say, oh...maybe shortly after, like in following weeks. Any OOCness isn't fault. Note: Facts on her family life before Homura and the events leading up to it can be found in translations done for K:Side Red, credit belonging to the hard work of trashbunny and zee art for spending their time translating the novel into English.