(Yukimi's POV)
I laid on the soft white padded bed in my solid white room, my over-grown hair spread out above my head and over the top of the bed. My knees were bent upwards, the skin pale and fair as ever. I could see my dark veins pulsing underneath the skin. There was a little bit of actual blood on top of my skin as well from me jerking around and fighting so much against my straight jacket that I had torn open my neck and wrists with my rough movements against the fabric. The blood had trailed in a range from my ankles to my jaw, depending on how I was laying when I reopened my skin.
The doctors had no clue what to do with me. I had only one answer: Release me. I didn't belong in this damn room! I wasn't crazy!
I wasn't crazy. . . My mother was killed. . . Murdered. . . By the woman with white hair and the name meaning cherry blossom. . . By a woman with a heavenly face. . . And sharp fangs. . . Fangs that had pierced me. . . Fangs that killed me, too. Only, this time. . . I survived.
No one believed my story even though it was the same every time. They thought that I was of a serious trauma due to witnessing my mother's death. I wasn't in any trauma. If anyone was in trauma, it was the world. Everyone more worried about money and sex and popularity rather than paying taxes and upholding peace with each other. Due to this blind and selfish community, I was locked away, probably never to be freed. I had no family to come and take me out. I was an orphan without this place. Here, I was a mentally unstable orphan. Which, in my opinion, was better than being known as Yukimi Hale the orphan who claims a vampire killed her mother.
I shivered with hatred at the mere thought. I let out a deep breath and was about to close my eyes when the door made beeping noises and hissed open. I grunted as I forced myself to sit up, turning my head around to see two figures walking into my cell. One I recognized easily as Mr. Renton. The other man, I had never seen before in my entire life. He was tall and looked rather lanky underneath a light gray trench coat. His hair was long and tied back, the strands a shade of very pale toffee, brown eyes glowing behind thin wired glasses.
"Hello, Yukimi," Mr. Renton smiled falsely and strode up to me, a clipboard tucked against his chest. "Have good dreams?"
I let my eyelids fall, changing my entire atmosphere from curious and confused to flat out annoyed.
"I'll take that as a no," he chuckled. "This is Kaien Cross."
The stranger inclined his head to me respectfully.
"I care why?" I snapped, glaring at the doctor who had come in for one too many sessions that had nothing to do with my 'illness'.
"He's coming to adopt you," the doctor narrowed his eyes at me. "and take you out."
"What?" I went back to the curious, innocent girl as I stared at Kaien.
He smiled, nodding once.
"Let's get you out of that jacket and then you two can go on," he started towards me, and I jumped back so far that I landed straight into the back corner of the room. "Yukimi."
He went to go after me, but a gentle hand landed on the man's shoulder. Kaien held up his hand to the doctor, slowly starting towards me. My eyes grew wide, my body tensing, squirming uncomfortably while he bent down beside me. He slowly, gently, and carefully undid each of the belts. Finally, I tore off the jacket. I stood up slowly, my back pressing to the wall, my shoulders rolling. I tilted my neck despite the pain, and sighed. Bones popped back, releasing some of my tension and pain. I sighed deeply while Kaien started towards the doors, nodding to the doctor. I raced behind the tall man, holding my arms close to my chest.
We quickly walked out of the asylum into a strange concrete parking area, a long limo with a strange emblem on the back door sitting patiently beside the doors. Kaien opened up the door for me, and I stepped inside the stretched vehicle. I sat in the corner, curled up into a ball, and stayed that way while he sat opposite of me. There was a small pause.
"You're name's Yukimi, correct?" he finally broke the stiff silence.
"Yes," I muttered around my knees. "My mother, before she died, she used to call me Suno. Suno's my middle name. Apparently my father gave me my actual name before he took off. My mother hated him for leaving us on the side of the road, cold and shivering, just outside a drug store where people pitied us. My mother often got hurt by filthy, selfish men looking for an easy woman."
"I'm sorry about your mother, Yukimi," he inclined his head. "What was her name?"
"Mai," I answered softly. "Mai Hale."
"I think I actually went to school with your mother," he smiled softly. "Brown curls and purple eyes, yes?"
"That's her," my throat tightened dangerously.
"She was a wonderful woman when I knew her," he lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry she's gone. Especially when she was ripped from this world in such a way. You said that a woman killed her?"
"Yes," I nodded slowly.
"What did that woman look like?" he was curiously pressing me on.
"She had sharp teeth, blood on her face, the looks of an angel, white hair, and a floral robe on," I answered honestly. I bit my lip, deciding if I should press on. "Did you hear the full story?"
"He said that you were suffering from trauma and that you claimed a white-haired female vampire killed your mother," he shrugged.
"I don't claim anything," I growled in anger. "I know it happened. She killed my mother! I watched it happen!"
"I believe you, Yukimi," he slowly blinked.
"What?" I froze, my head yanking back.
"I believe you. And I'm not just saying that to make you happy. I'm serious. I believe you. I'm something that no one knows about unless you're one of my people or what we go after," he leaned closer, whispering the next sentence. "I'm a vampire hunter."
"What?" my eyes grew as large as possible.
"Yes," he nodded, leaning back. "Your mother, as well. I forgot to mention exactly which school I met her at, didn't I?"
He chuckled, me gaping at him still.
"Your mother was indeed killed by a vampire," he continued. "She wasn't the only person to die at the hands of that vampire. I have a son who is also adopted and dealt with the same thing you did."
"He was in an asylum too?" I cocked up an eyebrow.
"Well, no," he glanced the other way. "That was a bit out of context. My bad. I mean he, too, lost his parents."
"Was he attacked by the woman as well?" I blurted curiously, gasping and putting both my hands over my mouth as soon as I finished my question.
He stared at me. "What?"
"I-" I cut myself off sharply as the car came to a stop.
"We'll finish this conversation inside," he held up a hand, his eyelids closing over his eyes. "Come. Welcome to Cross Academy, Yukimi."
I stepped out of the limo, Kaien right behind me. I stopped to stared in astonishment at the tall place before me. It was big, dark, and beautiful. Forest was growing around the walled-in place. I walked behind Kaien towards the school, stopping sharply as a figure started towards Kaien sharply.
"Kaien! Where have you been?" demanded the stranger sharply, gray eyes burning furiously.
"I've been out," Kaien answered coldly, obvious to his anger with me. "Come. I'll explain on the way."
"What in the name of-" the stranger cut off as he finally looked at me. His eyes went from narrowed with anger to wide open with shock. "Who's this?"
"Her name's Yukimi," answered Kaien quickly, walking towards the large building. "She needs a uniform and a shower. You can help with that, can't you? She's the same size as. . . you know who. Just let her take over her old room."
"Alright," the person shrugged.
"Yukimi," Kaien turned around, motioning to me. "This is my adopted son, Zero Kiryu. He's going to show you to your room. I'll be there as soon as I can."
"O-Okay," I swallowed air as Zero raised an eyebrow, still staring me down.
Kaien went an opposite direction while Zero walked towards the school, not bothering to look back and check if I was following. I stood rooted to my spot, staring at the trees behind me. I could easily run. I could be free. Find something to help clear my mind. But for now, I needed to clean up. No doubt about it I'd be arrested if I went out in public looking like I did. I turned my head around, jumping up and gasping sharply with shock as I almost collided my face with Zero's chest.
"Come on, Yukimi," his voice was deep and rumbled.
I shivered a little. He started to walk again, faster this time. I followed after him, my shorter legs rushing to keep up with his longer ones. We rushed through the hallways past lit up doors, claimed a flight of stairs, and glided down more twisting halls that had no lights whatsoever but doors leading to god knows what. Zero finally stopped at a larger door that was lit up. He pointed at it, staring at me with narrowed eyes, making sure I was in full attention.
"Kaien's office. He's in here most of the time," he explained, taking a few more steps and aiming his finger at another door on the opposite side of the hall. "His bedroom. Rarely used. I wouldn't advise going in there unless you can't find him absolutely anywhere else."
He walked further down the hall, stopping at a door sharply.
"My room. I wouldn't advise bothering me when I'm in there," his eyes glowed with a dark warning. He aimed his hand at the next door directly beside it. "Your new room. It used to belong to Kaien's old daughter who left a while back."
"Oh," I slowly walked up to the door, opening it to reveal a hollow looking room. It was painted a bright, faded pink. My eyes burned at the color.
"You'll be able to change it up as much as you want since it's yours," he continued, appearing behind me in the doorway.
"This wall color has to go, I'm sorry," I smiled, rubbing the back of my neck shyly, my face burning.
"It's fine," he shrugged, moving into the room. "Come on. I'll get the bath running. You get a change of clothes."
"Why are you-" my own question was cut off by my hand flying to my neck, touching the old blood. "Oh."
"Oh, is the word," he raised an eyebrow, looking me up and down slowly with dark gray eyes. "Want to explain how you got all that blood on you?"
I bit my bottom lip, turning away and going through the dresser and drawers. I grabbed undergarments and the darkest nightgown she owned. I wasn't willing to put on anything light. Not after years of staring at whiteness. I stumbled into the bathroom to see Zero crouched down beside the tub, his hand running under the water, his other hand adjusting the cold.
"Warm or cold?" he simply asked.
"Warm," I answered meekly. The 'sponge baths' I got at the asylum were always ice cold, not helping at all with the fact the room they kept me in was nearly below freezing.
He finally fixed the water, and plugged it. Bubbles were surging to the top after a minute, and he killed the water. He sat down on the top of the commode in the bathroom, his elbows resting on his knees, hands folding under his chin. He looked at me evenly, his eyes slightly hooded with his eyelids.
"How'd you get all that blood on you, pigeon?" he asked curiously.
"Pigeon?" I repeated in confusion.
"You're really pale. Free spirited. You look at everything like you've never seen anything like it before," he explained. "So I thought of a bird. Pigeon came to mind because when I was a child they used to be my favorite bird alongside the raven."
"Oh," I nodded slowly. "Kaien didn't tell you anything about me, did he?"
"Not really," his eyes narrowed lower.
"Well, I should start from the beginning, huh?" I smiled weakly, pulling the curtains to where I was hidden. I stripped down, starting on my life story. "I was born on a snowy night in the midst of November. My mother's name was Mai Hale. She was seventeen when she had me. Too young, she was. My father was her boyfriend for over six years. Two years after my birth, they both got into a big fight while I was sleeping. He hit her, and left. Never came back. My mother raised me by herself for three more years. I was five, and heard something downstairs in our apartment. We moved around a lot, but she managed to get by.
"I went downstairs and went to go see what was happening. And I was five, mind you, when all of this went down. I found my mother's body on the ground, a woman in a floral kimono. She looked like something only existing in paintings she was so beautiful. Her hair was long and white. She had my mother's blood on her face and neck, fangs in her mouth. I suppose she heard me because she turned her head up while I was on the last stair step. She attacked me. Had me pinned to the wall. She was clawing and biting me everywhere. I mean everywhere."
I slowly put one of my arms over my breasts, the other cupping over my private lower sectors. I moved back the curtain, exposing myself to him. His eyes blew wide open as he looked upon my body. The large, gnarly, disgusting scars were all over. From the top of my chest, down to my thighs. He slowly stood up from where he was sitting, walking around the bathtub, up to me. He stopped a few feet from me, his fingers lightly dancing over my scars. I sucked in a deep breath, causing my ribs that poked out far enough to stick out further than ever.
"Goddamn," he seethed under his breath. "I thought what she had done to me was bad. This is the worst thing I had ever seen before. I'm sorry, pigeon."
"It's fine," I shrugged, pulling away and sliding into the very warm bathtub water. "It happened a long time ago. People have had tougher lives than I have."
"No," he placed his hands on the rim of the tub, leaning down so that my eyes met with his. "No one has had anything nearly as bad as you have, Yukimi. Don't you dare tell anyone that bull."
"If I tell myself I've had a hard life, that's me pitying myself," I urged, my voice tightening with effort to convince him. "I hate pity. No way in hell am I dare going to start feeling sorry for myself. Things happen. You just have to suck it up and move on."
"I've never met anyone like you, you know that pigeon?" he curled his mouth upwards to the side.
"I mean, it's expected," I smiled and grabbed the washcloth, dipping it under the water and starting to scrub my wrists. "I've been locked up in an insane asylum since I was six. A year spent on my case, then I was tossed away. All because they didn't believe my story."
"I believe you," he gently said, taking the wash cloth from me and setting my hand in his, washing my small and pale arm.
"I know," I looked up at his beautiful and straight face. "Kaien told me you experienced the same thing. Only your story's worse. I'm sorry about your family, Zero."
"So am I," he numbly shrugged off my concerns. "It was a long time ago. I'm over it now."
I closed my mouth, letting him drop my now clean arm back into the water, picking up my other hand and cleaning that one. His brushes against my skin with the rag were gentle. As if I'd crack or tear open if he scrubbed too roughly. He started to clean my face and neck, and I let him. He dropped the rag, grabbing a bottle of soap and spreading some of the strange solution through my tangling waves. He washed my hair, running his fingers through the long strands. It felt nice to have someone cleaning my hair. At the asylum, they didn't worry over the hair all that much. A few times they cleaned it, but they were rough and left my scalp bleeding. It made me furious at first, but then I got old of it.
Zero washed my hair clean of the solution, and pulled away. He dried his hands off on a towel, then sat it down on the commode top. He smiled to me, turned around, and left the bathroom. I watched him as he left, shutting the door, my cheeks red hot. My heart was doing all kinds of acrobatic tricks inside of my chest. I turned my head down to the dirty water, pulled up the plug, and stood up. I washed off my body of all the suds from the soap he had put in the water, and stepped out of the tub onto a small plush carpet. I grabbed the towel and unfolded it. I dried off my whole body, ending up throwing the towel around my head like my mother used to do.
I stepped up to the mirror, bent over, and used the towel to roughly rub it over my head. The strands were wet and slapped me slightly in the face, but I used the fuzzy cloth to soak up as much of the wetness as I could. I straightened up, hanging the towel on a hook on the wall. I grabbed my chosen clothes and slid on the fabrics, turning around to the mirror when I was done. My skin was defiantly clean now, fair and icy as ever. It was slightly pink where the blood used to be. But I was clean. On my neck and wrists, the clothes didn't cover the skin, so there was deep and very hideous scars on the skin. I searched desperately through the drawers, sighing with relief as I found a plain black choker and two arm bands.
I put on the silky black fabrics, finally looking at myself in the mirror. My skin was fair, hair long and wavy the exact same shade as burnt coal rocks, big eyes a color between blue and purple like I remembered it, small nose, tiny mouth, very skinny body. With the choker, my upper chest and face looked even slimmer. I sighed deeply, running a hand through my hair. I pulled it all into my hands, pulling out a brush and rubber band from the drawers. I brushed out my long hair, pulling on the few snags. When it was smooth and silky and untangled, I twirled all my hair up into a wet ponytail. I gave myself the nod of self approval before exiting the bathroom, turning out the light.
The room was empty, and I frowned. I had hoped Zero would've stayed in the room so I could've finished our conversation. I could go to his room? No, I thought firmly. I wasn't going to ignore his warning to stay away the first night being here. I'd look ignorant and naïve. I sighed deeply, going around the room. I turned out all the lights, setting myself down on the large bed with a plain white spread. I slipped myself down into the covers and closed my eyes, falling into my own world of dreams and horrible nightmares.
The night already was filled with me fighting against the covers, tossing and turning, ending up falling onto the floor at sunrise.
I sat up straight on the ground, the duvet and sheets tangled around my ankles, sweat lining my temples and spine. I gasped, trembling with fear of my repeating nightmare. I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead, closing my eyes.
I let out a deep breath.
"Never fucking ends."