Echo Town was the sort of town where one could feel safe, secure, and completely peaceful. The residents were mostly kind-hearted and almost entirely not sociopathic - and even the resident sociopath was lazy and materialistic, at worst.
And then there was Rio Hart.
Tasked with rebuilding Echo Town from the ground up, Rio had performed her job admirably (with little in the way of actual thanks). The town's population had increased at least six times over since she'd moved in, and built a good deal of the local establishments and homes. Homes without locks.
Homes she could slip into at any time of the day or night, listening to the snoozing residents grunt and mumble their highest hopes and darkest dreams. Yuri Sheffield dreamed of destruction; Rebecca Salazar either snored, or received terrible satellite transmission. Maybe she was having flashbacks to when Judge Frollo tried to burn her at the stake in front of the entire population of Paris.
And then there was Soseki Furuya.
On a balmy August night, somewhere around 3:30 AM, Rio was engaging in her usual nightly thrill: Standing over the innocent, trusting folks of Echo Town while they slept, and staring at them until her bloodshot eyes glazed over.
Soseki had always captured her attention particularly - handsome, with a sharp jawline and thick, lustrous brown hair that was always messy and at odds with his neat yukata - and he spoke English and Japanese fluently. Rio couldn't help but think he looked like a tall, half-Japanese Tom Cruise.
And he had the neuroses to go with that comparison, constantly finding ways to discreetly mention the vast age gap between them. He was just brushing up against thirty. Rio was twenty-four. The way he saw it, he should be gumming porridge and shuffling his walker around to the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald, hoping he didn't snap his pelvis clean in half from turning too abruptly.
On top of that, he was a raging hypchondriac who had self-diagnosed Alzheimer's, sickle cell anemia, lupus (it was never lupus), leprosy, Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, feline infectious peritonitis, hysterical pregnancy, and endometriosis. Dr. Eric Klaus, on the other hand, had condensed all of Soseki's afflictions handily: Munchausen syndrome.
Nonetheless, Rio just wanted to rip off his gorgeous clothes and bang him until his brain sat right again.
Up until this point, Soseki had never said anything particularly intriguing or damning in his sleep. Variations of "Fuck, I'm old" and what Rio only interpreted as "Desu desu I'm going to die-chan" had been his repertoire thus far, but she didn't care much for the lack of variety. She just liked watching his mouth hang open.
Tonight, however, he began murmuring something new - something different. Something more in line with what she'd expected, yet enough to catch her off-guard all the same.
"Hmm... where is the... oasis...?"
"Oasis?" Rio murmured, tilting her head. "Talk dirty to me baby."
"At this rate, I'm going to... shrivel up..."
Shaking her head sympathetically, Rio removed her hand from rubbing methodically between her legs and patted Soseki on the forehead in a soothing, albeit unhygienic, manner. "Mama's gonna make you nice and wet, old guy," she cooed.
"Need... oasis..." Soseki muttered, frowning and rolling onto his back. "Ma... maybe..."
Leaning in closer, Rio whispered hopefully, "Yes, Soseki...?"
"You're... you're gonna... be the one..."
"Hai-chan?!" Rio breathed, ignoring her improper use of Japanese honorifics - she was sure the effort would have impressed Soseki were he awake to hear her. His standards were low. "Notice me, you goddamn sempai!" Her heart throbbed madly, as did something else farther south.
"The one... that s... saves me-"
It was like a jolt to the heart - a jolt of anger, fury, astonishment. Rio's eyes widened, and she stumbled back, shaking her head and breathing hard. Panicking, she grabbed a spare pillow and held it over Soseki's face, pressing down hard against his struggling. It was too late to turn back now.
Soon, he stopped moving, and Rio slumped to the ground in relief - a close call. As his last breath had drained out, so too had Rio's fascination with him.
She fucking hated that song.
Author's Notes: Well, you know, Soseki's really fucking old. So really, Rio just hastened the inevitable. Too bad A New Beginning doesn't offer enough spaces for your sweetheart to call you "Angel of Death", huh, Rio?
It's been too long since I touched ANB like the lover it once was, but between yearning for it (while playing the admittedly-superior Story of Seasons), taking time off from Chapter 8 of Revived Love Affairs, and really hating Wonderwall, I kind of wanted to see what came of this thought process. I'm... proud?
Feel free to leave feedback. Or concerns about the state of my mental health.