Of Romans Untold

A/N: Hikari: Hello again everyone! Time for some random drabbles I've been writing during classes~! I'm such a bad student... And still I get the top scores! How about that~? Anyhow, explanations at the end, enjoy!


Scarlet Warrior

Red. Deep, dark, bloody red was the color he had tainted many of his opponents with during his glorious days. Those days he had been respected for his power and terrifying bloodlust, men would shiver just by hearing his name, women would burst into panic at the mere sight of him. But not anymore. Now though… now no one hardly remembered him anymore. Those who did talked of him as a past legend, the fearsome Reaper who bathed in the blood of his enemies.

Now, as he laid in the puddle of liquid scarlet flowing out from the wound in his chest, as the spark of life slowly withered away from his remaining eye, the red headed man stared at the roof of the pub he had happened to stumble upon not too long ago, and calmly followed as his life flashed past his eyes.

He had always enjoyed inflicting pain in others, ever since he had been nothing but a runt among everyone else. He would always encourage anyone to fight him, and quickly became one of the strongest fighters throughout his home village, known for mercilessly strike down any challenger. The elderly of the village had never approved of it, so when the time came, he was sent to the army to "learn some manners". He had been more than willing to go too.

Within the army he at a similar rate gained fame with his skills and bloodlust, and once the war started he had been one of the first enter the battlefield, earning points from his bravery as well. Ah, how he missed those times! His name was on every pair of lips, spoken in hushed tones out of fear for him. But all that was over, after he lost his arm and eye he became worthless on the battlefield, and soon after the war had ended.

Falling into corruption he drunk to his barren heart's content, just waiting for his end to come, for what was a warrior without a sword and a battlefield? Tonight it had came, in a form of a pitch black sword that was plunged into his chest by a young man. At the moment he hadn't recognized the man, but as he collapsed on the floor, every victim who died by his hands, every face he had stole something from returned to his mind in one wave.

Yes, he could remember the boy, as many years ago as it had been. He had escaped most cowardly leaving his companion behind. He could almost hear the girl's shouts for the boy. "Laurencin". Yes, that was his name. So, he had finally decided to avenge, huh? How fitting it actually was. Being slayed by a cowardly boy for the things he had done, unable to even make a move to stop it. A pitiful death for a pitiful man, merely a ghost of his former glory.

As his eye began to flutter close, he took one last glance around the room. The boy had left a long while ago, or so it felt, but one last thing caught the warrior's withering attention. A man with golden blond hair, only one arm and a posture of a soldier stared down at him from the far side of the room. This one too he remembered. One of his victims too, imbedded in his mind for the irony of it all. He had himself cut that arm off, and only a week or so later had lost his own the same way, along with his eye. That moment he had remembered the blond man, who shared the same name with him, as he had heard later. And there he was, just standing there looking at him on his last moments, but unlike he had predicted, the look was not that of loathing, but pure pity with some shock and -was that disappointment?- mixed in.

Had he not been dying, he most probably would had rather quickly understood the reason for the look. Instead he didn't even try, but shifted his darkening gaze back to the roof. Then, with his last bit of strength he graced the world with a mad, victorious grin. For as long as he remained in the memory of those he had hurt, like the blond one over there, he would never cease to exist. And so, with that last thought, the red headed Laurant fell into the eternal oblivion…


Thoughts in the Candlelight

Glinting in the light of the candle, the blood red stone was the most beautiful thing Hiver had ever seen. Reine Michelé, the world's only red diamond, more valuable than anything he had held before, sat in front of him on the desk of the room he and his accomplice had gotten themselves for the night. The said accomplice, his best friend Laurencin, was currently snoring away on the bed he had taken as his own, leaving Hiver with the less than comfortable floor. The two thieves hadn't really afforded for more than a room with one bed, and the sneak had been quicker taking the bed, so...

But soon, soon they could afford anything they wanted. With this stone, with Reine Michelé, they would be rich, so rich they could afford to buy the inn! Not that he would do that. This place wasn't exactly the most… appealing for his tastes. The furniture was falling apart, the roof leaked and Hiver was sure that the floor would give in under them any minute. No, this wouldn't do. Well, at least the place had decent locks in the doors.

Leaning to his hands the white haired man stared at the diamond. It was smaller than he had expected, though much larger than any he had seen. Rumors did that, and there had been rumors, oh, so many rumors about it. Imbedded in a necklace it didn't look like much, as beautiful as it was. Had he not known better, he would had thought it to be just like any ruby they had stolen in the past. But he did know better. For before him was the most valuable piece of jewelry throughout France, probably even the whole world. It would sell high, for he had the connections, he knew how to turn the jewel to money. A lot of it too.

Ah, all the things they could get with all that money! Hiver had already planned ahead what to do with his share. First he would find a place to settle down, at least for a while. A house in the countryside could be nice, he had gotten sick of the city a long time ago. A house on the edge of a field… He liked that idea. He could live there in peace, no longer having to care about the world. He doubted he'd get a wife, he had never been the kind for romance. He could get a dog, though. Just to keep him company.

Laurencin tore his gaze from the diamond for a moment by turning to his side in the bed. As the snoring continued, Hiver smirked at the younger thief while wondering what the man would do. Laurencin had mentioned that he liked travelling, so it was possible that he would do just that. Travelling to all the places he wanted to go to.

Looking at the sleeping man made Hiver wonder about his accomplice. They had known each other for a long while… what was it now, five, six years? He could still remember the day they met, for he had received quite the shock from the man.

It had been a night after a rather successful thievery he had committed. He had been drinking some wine at an inn to celebrate when his future accomplice had stepped in. He had been quite the sight, covered in blood all the way to the tip of his black sword, with a wild look in his eyes. He had earned a couple of screams and every pair of eyes in the inn. For some reason he couldn't understand, Hiver had felt sorry for the stranger. He had gotten quite good at reading people, and had clearly seen what the man, merely a boy then in his opinion, had done. But along with that he saw the fear in his eyes. Fear for what he had done, fear for the consequences, fear for himself, no less.

Had it been for that fear or something else, Hiver had helped the boy, hid him from the world and became his, as he later found out, only friend. And then, later, they became accomplices in thievery. Hiver couldn't remember exactly how had he introduced Laurencin to the world of crime. It had kind of just happened.

Laurencin had never told him who exactly had he killed that night, and even though curiosity was great, Hiver never asked. If the younger man chose to tell, then he would. It wasn't really his business anyway.

Turning his eyes back to the source of their future fortune once again Hiver hoped his friend would too find peace through this. He knew it bothered him still, after all those years. He would never mention it, of course. With that thought he took the jewel in his hand and looked at the flame of the candle through it. Wow… Like this the jewel looked almost alive. Was it just his imagination or did it feel a bit warm? The thief shook his head. No. It was just a stone. Just another jewel.

Putting the piece of jewelry away from sight he yawned and stretched. Time to get some sleep. Laying down on the floor he blew the candle out. As the man closed his eyes, he had no idea, that if he had looked at the jewel now, he would had seen it glimmer in the darkness, unnaturally red, and if he had listened carefully enough, he just might had heard a distant, out from this world laughter. But as he didn't do either, Reine Michelé kept her bloody secret for another night…


A/N: Hikari: So! Roman drabbles~! I just got into it for some reason. And on the side I fould my, humm, "alter-ego"? And it's a GUY. I named him Hikaru. Say hi, Hikaru!

Hikaru: Hello, dear ladies (and you guys...)~!

Hikari: ...my alter-ego is a ladies man? *doom* Ah, well, no can do, I guess. Onto explanations!

Scarlet Warrior: A drabble about the red haired Laurant at the moment of his death. Humm... He never got a full background story, so I made one up for him! *shot* I just wanted to write a story which includes color red, so...

Thoughts in the Candlelight: Thief-Hiver! I just HAD to write of him! and I somehow ended up linking Miezaru Ude and Norowareshi Houseki... For some odd reason... Anyways! Hiver's thoughts about the whole thing, along with his dreams~! Again a character with no canon background story whatsoever... I feel like I'm pitying them and making it all better..? Dunno~

Hikaru: So you just feel like doing things and then..?

Hikari: Yup~! Okay, that was all. Tell me what you think and try to encourage me to write more~!

Both: Au revoir~!