Obsolete Absolution
Chapter One
The perfect setting for him would have been something dreary. Not raining, because he thought it too cliche. No, the young man sitting on the curb in front of a once grand but now run-down manor-house was glaring at the blue sky full of white clouds and the warm rays of the unimpeded sunlight. He wished only for someone to come along that could take him away. Away from his warped memories and from reality. However, the fact of the matter was that he knew it was impossible. The man didn't have much of anything- hell, he couldn't even remember his name, and not for lack of trying. Against his will, his blue-green eyes fell closed and the events leading up to where he is now came rushing to the fore-front of his mind from the box they had been shoved into, torturing him the moment he fell under.
"...you think we should have went that far? I mean, we ended their contract right in front of the poor kid. Weren't those two his parents or friends or something?"
"Actually, one was a friend, the other a former lover... Not that it really matters. The trauma will more than likely force this whole encounter into the furthest recesses of his head. He won't even remember who he is."
Blue eyes flashed in his mind's eye, accompanied by a bright smile. When he tried to focus on the person itself, though, the young man would drop to his knees clutching his head from the pain ripping its way through his brain.
Opening his eyes to the bright day once more, the man wondered just one thing.
"What the hell happened to me?"
Turning back to the manor-house, he slowly walked up the stairs to the front door. The wind picked up suddenly, blowing his silver hair into his face and casting a dark shadow across his eyes. The heavy wooden door clicked shut behind him, and the young man walked past the remnants of the foyer without so much as a second glance. He made his way up the rickety stairs to the drawing room. Sitting at the large, broken window and gazing out at the dying forest, he sighed. Why couldn't he remember anything? Why did he come to this room? He never went to the drawing room; something always seemed to tell him not to go in.
A flutter of movement in the corner of the room caught his attention, and the young man went to the desk and took hold of the piece of paper. It was a letter. He didn't know who the person was it was addressed to, but his curiosity got the better of him and he read it.
Riku,
Sorry the I couldn't make that meeting the other day. Axel and Roxas decided to drop by to take me to visit Namine. I promise I'll visit soon, though! I look forward to seeing that new house you and Sora have. I'll try to stop by with in the week, so you'd better not plan anything without me!
With love,
Kairi
The paper fell from his hands. Those names... Sora, and Kairi... they seemed so familiar to him. Where, though? Where had he heard them? The man sank to the floor trying to remember, but all he found was another way to get his head to feel like it was splitting.
He knew the people were important. He didn't know how, but perhaps if he could find them, they could help him figure everything out. The man groaned in frustration at the thought. How was he supposed to find people if all he knew was their first names? Resisting the urge to just give in to the headache and fall unconscious, he looked around the drawing room. He was looking for something- anything, really- that could possibly help him find those two. Everywhere he looked, there was only dust and debris from fallen shelves and broken glass.
The man never thought to question what exactly had happened in the manor-house, not even when he woke up surrounded by ashes and covered in pieces of wooden beams. He just accepted it, and went about trying to find a room he could use as his own. Now, however, he slightly regrets his decision to not find out what had gone on to utterly destroy the building. Shreds of paper fluttered all around, windows were boarded and shattered, doors had been splintered, boards were missing from a few spots in the floor... It was like a war had taken place in this very house. Why, though? Why would someone go to the trouble? Why were there no pictures, no books? Who could have possibly been so wanted that they were completely erased?
A voice in the back of the young man's head whispered, "You... and them..." but he ignored it. He hadn't been forgotten. He couldn't have been.
He wandered through that whole floor, in every single room, in his effort to find a clue. Every room was just as decimated as the last, though. Broken and burned to the point where it looked like it was about to fall apart. He gave up looking on the second floor, and carefully made his way down the dilapidated staircase to the ruined foyer. Why anyone would even leave anything there was beyond him, but he still felt the need to at least look.
Stepping over the fragments of vases litterring the ground, he passed through the charred doorway leading to the neglected bedrooms. Glancing through to te buried dressers and disheveled beds, the man found only more debris. Picture frames missing both the glass and the pictures. In the last room, the one that looked worse than all the others combined is where the young man found himself. Turning around slowly, taking in everything misplaced, he searched for something that could help him remember. A burned letter, a broken pot, the tattered sheets on the barely-standing bed, the closet doors close to falling off their hinges, the once-grand carpet that was hardly more than rags, and curtains that had been torn from their perch above the window, they all filled the man's vision. There was absolutely nothing in the room that could help him. With a sigh, he turned back to the door. Taking a step, he heard something crack beneath him. Dropping to his knees, he moved away the splintered wooden planks to reveal a small, broken, shell necklace. Picking it up, the young man was assaulted with a flash of red, and a feeling of kindness.
Beside the necklace was the plant that had been in the pot. It was unlike anything the man had ever seen. Despite having been buried, it was still a virbrant green, and nestled between the leaves was a single star-shaped fruit. Seeing it made him think, again, of blue eyes and a wide, warm smile.
Without a pause, he gathered them into his arms and made his way back to the room. Setting them down on the not-completely-destroyed nightstand, the man sat on his bed and tried to remember.
He ignored the headache, and focused on the brief images that flashed in front of his closed eyes. A hand in his, an open lap top, a distorted, "good-bye," and then laughter. He could hear the sound of a gunshot in the distance. A glint of silver passed before him and a form slumped to the ground in front of him and a thick, red puddle started forming around the body.
Another, different, distorted voice said, "This is what happens when you lose your value."
-I hope you all like it! This is, of course, only the beginning. The characters are not mine, as per usual... Please review with ideas, comments, predictions, etc... Flames are welcome, also, for the only prove that you are, in fact, reading! Until next time,
-Akari's Blood
