So this was originally supposed to have been only two paragraphs. Just a quick drabble. But apparently I can't write small drabbles, can I? Not when they involve my precious baby.
Inspired by: http: /www. pixiv. net/member_?mode=medium&illust_ id=23956616
Written and best read while listening to: http:/ www. youtube. com/watch?v=8_CV6it45Gw
http:/ www. youtube. com/watch?v=ex0mDiJU7Ms
http:/ www. youtube. com/watch?v=6E6xou57xOo
Don't own anything, you know the drill. Interpret this fic as you will.
"I'm lost."
It had made the habit of speaking its thoughts aloud from time to time, reason unknown. It was at first curious of its own voice, and that had been all. But soon, even its voice had grown boring and mocking, yet it had become a tendency it couldn't break. It spoke anything that came to its mind, not paying any mind to anything around it that could hear it, not knowing how to care. It knew not how it got where it was, and knew not how it had even been born. It couldn't understand its surroundings, or was even able to fathom the concept of birthing—to be born into the world, to suddenly exist.
It was hungry.
For a reason unbeknownst to it, the feeling of hunger felt alien to it, as if it had already been so long without having the craving. It was an odd sensation that churned his stomach in a hazy roundabout manner, gradually weighing its small body down with fatigue. Its movements grew desultory, like a machine that was running out of energy as it dragged its short legs across barren terrain. It had no destination in mind. It was unsure of where it was even walking. It only sought out reason, purpose, survival. It knew not of company or loneliness, as it had never been given the chance to know anything but being all by itself. It accepted the fact that it was alone, isolated, and forlorn, as it was unaware of any other fate besides these.
It taught itself how to walk.
When it had first awoken (born, some may argue), it was ignorant as to anything around it. What was this place? What was that? What was it? What should it do? It yearned to find answers, desired to learn what it was it had to do. Hunger eventually sank in, and after a few days laying down with a dry mouth and an aching stomach, it moved.
It stood on its own. It collapsed. It cried. It crawled. Whined. Fell. Injured. Limped.
Walked.
Trial and error was the only thing it knew of. Risks were nothing to fear, as it had nothing to lose in the first place. It took no hesitance or decision before it did anything, such as jumping down large ledges or stumbling across pointed shards or deep sand. It moved without thought, not afraid of anything it came across. It chased anything that moved, be it alive or already dead and simply tossed by the wind, seeking answers.
It was hurt.
It knew no fear of pain, only wanted to continue ascending whatever it had created as a path to finding solace. It carried on with many bruises and scars, unsure of how or if it should treat them, and simply letting them continue to bleed and grow. It was stronger than it ever gave itself credit for.
It remembered.
Hazy memories lie in the back of its mind, acting as a backdrop for whatever life it was currently missing. Vague, faint faces would occasionally flash before it, and the next thing it knew, scenes were played in front of it of recollections it could not place. An ambiguous green figure running about the terra firma before him, as did a similarly fashioned white one before it. It could not comprehend the origins of these "visions," though it held on to whichever ones it could view for the longest amounts of time.
Anything that could help it find who it was.
It aspired to track one of these figures, seeing as they were the only things it had been given knowledge of-that had to be a sign of something. And what would become of it if it could not find one of these cynosures? It didn't know. It wanted to know. It followed the imaginary tracks it had memorized from the inexplicable illusions that would appear before it, tracing the paths they took and working after them by itself.
"I'm lost."
The scenery around it had changed yet again, and it found itself in an even more undesirable environment than the parched landscape of ever-stretching sand dunes it had just evaded. Billows of cinder soared through the sky, frequently startling it with an intermittent ember being placed close to it from these occasional eruptions. It would jump back, startled, with a small yelp of surprise from the sudden crashing, not used to such haphazard, perilous surroundings.
Everything was hot.
It was burned.
Its feet were charred black and red after the first two days in the new environment, and it was reduced to having to limp while leaning on whatever structures it was close to to even make it by. Its mouth now felt like that of the homeland it had left previously, unable to even wet its tongue with its saliva like it had used to have been able to. It had noticed that its body had grown heavier despite the outer loss of mass, finding it odd how everything seemed to require more effort when it had become so much lighter. It was slightly frightened by the apparent ridges forming around the sides of its chest.
It was disoriented.
How did it walk in a straight line, again? How did it move without collapsing, without falling to its knees while coughing red droplets of liquid? It had found this substance as to be one it couldn't drink, as much as it would've liked to.
It frightened it.
Those small drops had been taken from its body; why? Why couldn't it put them back inside itself? Why did it burst into a set of dry heaves when it tried regaining the liquid it had lost? It didn't like to lose red. It wanted the red to return. The red was the only thing it had of its own.
It kept walking.
Eventually, it had stumbled upon an irregular land formation-a cliff, it would have appeared, with ivy growing alongside it. Troubled, it had looked around frantically, whimpering softly to itself on its knees. How was it supposed to get down? Where was it supposed to go? It was impossible, such a feat it appeared, to make it down such a large distance.
Another memory.
The green portrait had returned, right below it, climbing up the ledge. The green was like it, it had noticed, with similar features on its face as well as its body. This time, though, it looked angered, as well as determined and courageous. It looked down at the vision approaching it, watching as the green took hold of a vine in each hand and foot, gradually ascending the steep perch.
It was coming for him.
Excited, it had outstretched an arm, reaching for the green that was soon to reach it. It had finally come for it, had finally come to save it from its ignorance. The green wanted him, what with that expression, as it hurriedly hustled towards it. It was approaching, it was coming, it was finally here to save it... It stretched further down, looking to finally reach what it had taken so long chasing. They were seeking out each other. It was now perched even further over the edge, leaning down as far as it could manage, feeling something beginning to sting at its eyes. It was finally its time. Just a little more...just a few inches...so close...
"Help."
It fell.
It plummeted down the cliff it had watched the green momentarily scale, eyes widening as the ground beneath it disappeared. It had at last learned something new, a new sensation, a new emotions it had never known existed before. As it turned to look over its shoulder in midair, it watched as the green ran up the path it had just walked itself, completely dismissing the smaller figure that it had left to fall.
It feared.
It hit.
A pained cry immediately emitted from its anhydrous mouth, released as a strangled scream leaving its torn, seared throat. Red continued escaping it. Too much red for it to even consider regaining. It was incapable of hearing anything, not even its own agonized shrieking, nothing besides the high ringing that had blocked its ears. Its eyes were clamped shut, unwilling to accept what it had just witnessed firsthand.
It was abandoned.
It curled up on its side, failing to register the new liquid that began seeping out of its eyes as it sobbed and wailed uncontrollably. It didn't like the new feelings it had gained. Its limbs felt as if they had been torn in half, similar to its skin that had already been ripped in multiple places. It gasped for air, mouth wide open and occasionally venting high shouts or cries of despair.
It learned loneliness.
A few hours after its fall, it had made another attempt at moving.
As it rolled to its other side, it learned of miracles.
Frantically, it stuck a red, bent arm in front of it, nails digging into the cracked yet softer ground. Another hand followed, and it pulled itself up, dragging itself closer to the marvel it had found after so long.
Water.
The basin was small, smaller than it itself was, but it would do for now. Its shaky hands reached into the puddle, lifting quickly and being brought speedily to its mouth only to find nothing but a shiny dampness on its fingers. Had it slipped through? With more determination than ever before, it tried again, repeatedly dipping and spilling the water it had found.
In fifteen minutes, it had received its first drink, and began to cry water from its eyes as well.
The green had done him no wrong. That green had been the one to lead it to this wonder, to bring him to just what it needed. It knew just what it needed, and went to the lengths of restoring its memories for a moment just to bring it here.
The green was its hero.
"I'm lost."
The empty feeling in its stomach had been lifted a little after it had finished nourishing itself once again. Still, it craved for something more, needed more than just water-but where could it find it? Yet, for the time being, it was thankful for the miracle it had already been given. It knew that when the time came, its green hero would return to help it as it always had...yes, as long as its green hero remained, everything would be alright. Nothing was wrong as long as it had its hero to rely on.
It found a purpose.
A debt to repay, a reason to live, something left over from its past memories it had left unfulfilled. It knew now why it had been awoken, not born, of all things. It knew why it had been put on this land-to give to the hero what it had been unable to do in a past life.
And it would do whatever it took to complete this wish it had once had.
The pain no longer had any effect on it and was brushed aside as soon as it struck. Pain took too long to brood over, when it thought about it, and it had much more important things to do. There was no time to cry over the loss of red-not anymore. Not when it had finally found its true meaning, and why it had been chosen in the first place.
The environment was changing again. Petrichor happily greeted its nose as it stepped onto a much calmer, softer ground, finding the dirt (dirt!) a much more pleasant hue of dark brown than it had ever come across. The wounds covering its lower legs and feet were immediately calmed in their burning rages, lightened by just the summery feel of the land it had stepped into.
It had found its second miracle.
It was the most gleeful, becoming serendipity it had ever discovered. A lush, sumptuous forest greeted its usually dull eyes, welcoming it with cool air and moist grounds. It had learned new colors it had never seen before, new textures and sounds, a new perspective to any and everything it had ever discerned. Water trickled down leaves and branches of mystical trees and plants, spilling into small pools on the ground that was covered with the softest, greenest grass. Bugs and birds of every color flitted about, buzzing around it happily and curiously.
It learned to smile.
It took a good two days of its own leisure simply exploring the new land it had found. Everything was new, and around every corner and ledge seemed to be a new mystery waiting to be unfolded. It'd spend hours alone just enjoying the warm, but not scorching sun, laying in a patch of smooth grass and basking in the comfortably humid air. It would laugh at every bug that crawled over it, and eventually learned by itself how to mimic the calls the birds would make to one another. It would forget its purpose for the time it had, simply enjoying the small things it was able to while they lasted.
It knew it wouldn't last long.
"I'm scared."
Little by little, more and more memories had begun to surface within it. They were memories it would rather not have seen, more similar to nightmares than anything. They depicted a world covered in darkness, a black monster ruling over all of it. By his side stood another humanoid figure, one far too familiar for its liking. The figure did horrible actions, said cruel things; mercilessly slaying villages of innocent, shedding blood of civilians without a second thought, and causing pain for its own pleasure. It frightened it.
It knew who it was.
"I'm scared."
It was this particular horror that kept it from moving from its current spot, hidden beneath leaves and bushes. Water fell from the sky, unyielding, and shading the forest in indescribable shade. The sky was veiled in black and grey, spitting out sharp, cold water that stung the skin when given contact.
Another memory.
A memory that refused to be lifted.
Terrible creatures inhabited the land it had grown so attached to, running about with large weapons and scary appearances. They chanted back and forth to each other, causing the natives to all hide themselves from the unrelenting monsters that threatened their lives. But what was the most perturbing had to be the black figure covered in white diamonds that stood above it all, grinning from ear to ear.
It knew who it was.
It remained huddled behind the densest area of foliage it could find, arms wrung over its head to try and protect itself from the adamant needles that splashed over its skin. Beasts crawled about the entire area, as the scenery would frequently change and also modifying the amounts and appearances of the abnormalities around it.
One moment, it was a soft forest, plentiful in vegetation as well as color and life. The next, it was a world of black, filled with nothing but screaming and crying, red pooling around his feet. Afterwards came a slightly lighter world, though not much better than the one before, with not as many creatures prying about.
They flashed quickly about its eyes, confusing it, scaring it. Which of these settings was safe? Which one did it belong to? How long would it be before one of those horrors found it? How long could it hide? When would the cold, stinging water stop? It was as if every memory it had left behind decided to bombard its mind collectively, pounding its brain with images that it was given not enough time to tell whether they were true or began to distort themselves, swirling about as the screaming, as the crying, as the noises and voices grew louder. People were pleading for mercy, shouting for joy, sobbing uncontrollably, screaming in the midst of madness and insanity.
A green figure stood before it.
He knew who it was.
"Are you lost?"
He heard him speak, looking up at the presence that had ended the arrangement of nightmares that had momentarily stripped him of his acumen and balance. The man dressed in green peered down at him curiously, watching as the smaller boy shook ferociously. Frightened. Hopeful.
"I'm not."
The tears rolling down his face had stopped, as well as any knowledge of whether or not the falling water had ceased. Wide, dark brown eyes stared at the man before him piercingly, a small hand reaching out towards him.
The man held his hand in his own.
"I've found what I've needed to do."
What he spent day and night searching for. What he went through every ounce of pain and suffering that he did for. What the reason was behind every memory that flashed before his eyes. Every cruel thing, every horrible scene, every bit of agony that he himself had once caused...the reason had finally been revealed. He had been cast aside, lost, with large regret bearing down on him.
It was only now was he given the chance to do what he had been awoken for.
The boy's eyes welled with tears once again, eyes not leaving the hero's face as he knelt by his side to come to his height. His hero. The one who had put an end to everything. The one who had done what he had to his Master, to him.
Every day he had been awake, every step he had taken, every drop of red, every memory that tore his mind apart piece by piece, stripping him bare of his sanity. Everything had finally calmed down, all for this moment he had gone through everything for.
A smile fell upon Ghirahim's lips, unable to feel the hot water rolling down his slowly fading, transparent face.
"Thank you."
For saving the world I was unable to. For freeing me from the binds I was incapable of breaking. For stopping me. For stopping my Master. For being courageous. For being strong. For being wise. For standing up. For winning.
Thank you,
For being my hero.
As always, reviews make my heart leap. Maybe even a suggestion for what I should write next? I'm open for anything, as long as it's a good prompt.