Shh...
Be silent, sweet bird, sing no more!
The dead sleep, sing no more,
Little bird is gone,
The golden bird flies away.
Shh!
"I can hear you breathing..."
A wispy breeze floated along a deserted path, a lone bench offering itself to the unknown blonde. A single trickle of blood slid down his fingers, dripping onto the bench. It hasn't been to long, but long enough for someone -that bastard, Hiro- to notice. He sank onto the bench, more blood oozing from four scratches on his pale cheek. It splattered onto his clothes, soaking them red. Red, like fire.
A twisted tune vibrated off his thin lips, The Angry Beat, or was it The Rage Beat?... Does it matter? The song will be sung all over Japan, voices raising high in memory of - a damn brat, my damn brat - Shuichi Shindou. Who's...
"...body was found early this morning in his Tokyo apartment..."
"...Hiro, a bandmate of Shindou's found the body..."
"...No statement was given of how the young singer died..."
"...Rumors are flying, but one thing is for certain..."
"...Japan will never forget..."
"Shuichi Shindou."
"Do... Do you know how hard it was for me? To look you in the eye? You brat! You perfect, beautiful brat. I hated your kindness, your happiness. I hated you! But I loved you, too. Too much? You were an angel, a perfect fucking angel. I let you back into heaven, aren't you happy? I am. I am. I am..."
"FUCKING INSANE!" Cold gold eyes turned to glare at a reflection in the riverface.
"From what I've tasted of desire, I hold those who favor fire..."
and I love you, my perfect angel, Shuichi...
Red is... such a lovely color, especially for you...