dead ringer
dolphin
I lie awake sometimes at night and wonder what would happen to me if I ever left this place. Not just the Koneko no Sumo Ie, or Weiß, but everything that has to do with Kritiker-everything that I have ever remembered calling home or family. This prison of flowers and girls' giggles and death. They know so little, those girls.
I envy them so much.
They can't imagine when they touch my hands that last night, these hands were launching death at people I didn't even know. Yohji says I'm afraid of them, and maybe he's right. I'm afraid of the things they make me think of and wish for, things that I can't have and that are useless to want. I ache to have what they have. Not to forget my crimes-no, forgetting isn't enough. I want for them to have never happened, to wake up in a home I can't recall, with brothers I hardly know except as names on a never-ending list of those dead by my hands, and for all this to have been just another bad dream made up in the head of a child.
I wonder about my family too. About my father, who never did tell me why he didn't want me. It will take a good long time to forget that, if I ever do. About my mother, who I know so little of and probably always will now that Persia is gone. Persia who was my family himself and never told me until it was too late. The uncle that was the only father I ever knew.
I don't wonder often about my brothers. It hurts to think of them, of Hirofumi who I so stupidly thought loved me. I would have been a Takatori, I would have gone with him if he hadn't given me that time to think about it. I might even have gone anyway if he hadn't tried force.
I think I hate to think about that most of all. Aya was right. My 'family' was one of the great evils of this world. And I would have crumbled in a second if only one of them had really loved me.
I think often about Persia, though, and about Manx. I guess I should hate them-I did hate them once. It hurts to think that my own blood would send me to fight against my father and brothers, to kill them without ever giving me a chance to know them. It still hurts irrationally even now I've thought things over and come to grips with it. But I can't hate them anymore. They were the only real family I ever had before Weiß came. They gave me Weiß, my White Hunters, my direction in this crazed hell of an existence.
And I have better people to save my hate for.
Schwarz. Black to our white, cold to our heat, laughter to our tears. Death to our life, eventually. I hold no illusions about that, and neither I hope do the others. They will end our existence, one of these days when their dark play is over, and when they do it will be quick and simple and no more than we deserve. Much less, I don't doubt. But until then I will go on fighting for my elusive light and my blind justice, because what is all my wondering worth anyway? I can never leave Kritiker.
Even kittens know when they are caught.
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Author's Notes: In my dictionary, 'dead ringer' is defined as 'a person or thing closely resembling another'. It's also the title of one of the US-released installments of Weiß Kreuz. Therefore I find it an ironic title for this fic, in which Omi hardly resembles the happy-go-lucky Omi we know in fanfiction at all. I like to think he has deep dark moments too :)
dolphin
I lie awake sometimes at night and wonder what would happen to me if I ever left this place. Not just the Koneko no Sumo Ie, or Weiß, but everything that has to do with Kritiker-everything that I have ever remembered calling home or family. This prison of flowers and girls' giggles and death. They know so little, those girls.
I envy them so much.
They can't imagine when they touch my hands that last night, these hands were launching death at people I didn't even know. Yohji says I'm afraid of them, and maybe he's right. I'm afraid of the things they make me think of and wish for, things that I can't have and that are useless to want. I ache to have what they have. Not to forget my crimes-no, forgetting isn't enough. I want for them to have never happened, to wake up in a home I can't recall, with brothers I hardly know except as names on a never-ending list of those dead by my hands, and for all this to have been just another bad dream made up in the head of a child.
I wonder about my family too. About my father, who never did tell me why he didn't want me. It will take a good long time to forget that, if I ever do. About my mother, who I know so little of and probably always will now that Persia is gone. Persia who was my family himself and never told me until it was too late. The uncle that was the only father I ever knew.
I don't wonder often about my brothers. It hurts to think of them, of Hirofumi who I so stupidly thought loved me. I would have been a Takatori, I would have gone with him if he hadn't given me that time to think about it. I might even have gone anyway if he hadn't tried force.
I think I hate to think about that most of all. Aya was right. My 'family' was one of the great evils of this world. And I would have crumbled in a second if only one of them had really loved me.
I think often about Persia, though, and about Manx. I guess I should hate them-I did hate them once. It hurts to think that my own blood would send me to fight against my father and brothers, to kill them without ever giving me a chance to know them. It still hurts irrationally even now I've thought things over and come to grips with it. But I can't hate them anymore. They were the only real family I ever had before Weiß came. They gave me Weiß, my White Hunters, my direction in this crazed hell of an existence.
And I have better people to save my hate for.
Schwarz. Black to our white, cold to our heat, laughter to our tears. Death to our life, eventually. I hold no illusions about that, and neither I hope do the others. They will end our existence, one of these days when their dark play is over, and when they do it will be quick and simple and no more than we deserve. Much less, I don't doubt. But until then I will go on fighting for my elusive light and my blind justice, because what is all my wondering worth anyway? I can never leave Kritiker.
Even kittens know when they are caught.
--------------------------------------------------
Author's Notes: In my dictionary, 'dead ringer' is defined as 'a person or thing closely resembling another'. It's also the title of one of the US-released installments of Weiß Kreuz. Therefore I find it an ironic title for this fic, in which Omi hardly resembles the happy-go-lucky Omi we know in fanfiction at all. I like to think he has deep dark moments too :)