Why do you want this pain, Kurama?
Why do you impose this cruelty called 'Love' upon your heart over and over again?
To give everything you possessed to him, only to get them spat in your face in less than the span of five minutes.
You are such a crazy fool.
Baka.
He was right.
You are a baka kitsune, no matter how long you have lived, how many years his senior.
After all, he could look through you with his discerning gaze, probe out your undying love for him, and calculated that it was worthless. Probably dust would have been much more valuable.
Demo.
Every time I look into his eyes, I just feel the need to drown in the crimson pools of blood.
Is it too much to hope that he will actually have feelings for someone else other than his sister?
Maybe.
But for some foolish reason called 'love', the urge to whisper "aishiteru, zutto" to him softly, I will continue hurting myself.
Strangely, I feel as though I don't want to be detached from this pain.
For, if I did, I would have lost my last connection to him.
I almost forgot what I used to know as a youko.
In the dance of life, Pain and Pleasure are brothers dancing on the same frail line of Love and Hate, Night and Day, Trust and Betrayal, and most importantly, Happiness and Hurt.
Why do you impose this cruelty called 'Love' upon your heart over and over again?
To give everything you possessed to him, only to get them spat in your face in less than the span of five minutes.
You are such a crazy fool.
Baka.
He was right.
You are a baka kitsune, no matter how long you have lived, how many years his senior.
After all, he could look through you with his discerning gaze, probe out your undying love for him, and calculated that it was worthless. Probably dust would have been much more valuable.
Demo.
Every time I look into his eyes, I just feel the need to drown in the crimson pools of blood.
Is it too much to hope that he will actually have feelings for someone else other than his sister?
Maybe.
But for some foolish reason called 'love', the urge to whisper "aishiteru, zutto" to him softly, I will continue hurting myself.
Strangely, I feel as though I don't want to be detached from this pain.
For, if I did, I would have lost my last connection to him.
I almost forgot what I used to know as a youko.
In the dance of life, Pain and Pleasure are brothers dancing on the same frail line of Love and Hate, Night and Day, Trust and Betrayal, and most importantly, Happiness and Hurt.