Well, it might be a tiny bit disturbing and ooc, but it's not very, horribly graphic. And no, I'm not on crack. Ah, it happens just before Yukina leaves to the Dark Tournament. I personally believe Yukina would never ever do this, but that's what fanfiction is for, isn't it?
Read and review, tell me if you like it, would you?
Disclaimer: Only the (disturbing) plot is mine.
Like lambs to the slaughter
The room is simple and white with a low ceiling; in the center of the room a hearth with a slow burning fire is built onto the floor and colors the walls of warmth. There are no decorations but for the alcove on the right, full of yellowed parchments and beautiful ornaments. Bar that, the room is bare of decor, it's simple white walls and rustic appearance make the hearth built into it's center stand out all the more; the fire burns and dyes everything in shades of yellows and reds and oranges that rise and turn in a dance that breaths life into the room.
Drip
It's always been her favorite.
Drip
The kettle sings, it's ready; the still boiling hot tea cascades from the teapot's mouth and falls into the beautifully carved bowl, a scented curl of steams rises up delicately unfolding in the air, perfuming the atmosphere. She takes the bowl in her hands and breathes on it, slowly; it's all part of tradition, things she's done a hundred times and, as her hand mechanically moves through the steps of the tea ceremony, she thinks that's why she performs it so perfectly.
Drip
To the eyes of her sisters, she's the product of sin, born tainted and because of that, she's been observed all her life, made to do everything to the point of perfection to prove herself to them, to make them realize that although the blood of a male runs in her veins it doesn't dillute her koorime blood or corrupts her. Show no weakness, ask no questions and live on. She's had to be more to be less but she doesn't let it bother her.
Drip
Absently, she moves her wrist and observes the waves breaking the calm surface; she had, once upon a time, thought that the world was no more than a few acrees of frozen wasteland, a landscape of ice and snow twisting in beautiful ways, like woven threads of pale silk, eternal beauty inmortalized. She had lived in this icy island, sterile and stagnant with people whose hearts were dead before they started to live. The life of the koorime strechs boringly, an endless routine repeated until it's branded into their souls; nothing ever happens in the village hidden in the snow far from the warmth of the sun. They stay here forever, locked into their small world where there's no war, no death and they live peacefully.
Drip
Her fingers clench briefly and the bowl cracks.
Drip
She soon relaxes them; she's kind, beautiful, innocent Yukina but she's no fool. Koorimes don't feel pity, don't love, don't laugh. Koorimes are cool, their hearts are as frozen as the snow they live in. She doesn't need to wonder if they pity her mother or feel sorrow for her passing; they are not able to. They stare at the world through a curtain of water and if there were perfect words to define them they would be apathetic, dispassionate, unfeeling, empty...
Drip
Empty
Drip
Empty
Drip
She's very much her father's (mother's) daughter, as proved by the fire in her heart that makes her feel. She has feelings, she really trully does; the love she feels for her brother, the sorrow she feels for her mother, her dreams of adventuring far away from this wretched place to find that which has been denied to her, ripped from her so cruelly, so violently; her family, her brother. Her brother...
Drip.
She stands and empties the bowl, the liquid falls onto the stained floor and flows like a crimson river making bloody rivulets in the white (white) room, sinking into the tatami and flooding it, when she walks, it splatters (red) onto the white (white) walls.
Drip
It had all been so easy, they didn't scream, didn't try to escape. They stood still uncomprehending, impassive, looking at the ice in her hands emotionlessly. The carcasses litter all around her, as passionate in death as they were in life, the blood drenches their broken bodies lying like discarded rag dolls left by a careless child and she feels a strong impulse to paint the walls with their life-blood to dye them all red, she's tired of whites and rules and emptiness.
She steps on the kettle and it breaks, the tiny shards spreading around her like fragments of a dream and the bowl falls to the floor, empty. Her hands are stained red, oh, she mutters to herself, but no matter, there is time before she leaves. Before she leaves forever.
She steps over Rui's arm and leaves the tea room. Behind her, the fire spreads and consumes the bodies as the ice melts making rivers of water which mix with the blood and the dirt and comb furrows in the (used to be white) snow. She stares, it's an aproppiate offering to her (dead) mother and her (lost) brother.
"Where've you gone, my son, my son? Gone, gone, gone... Please come back, my son, my son... Kill them all, one by one by one!"
"The forbidden child will kill us all"
"I threw him off our island, while your mother begged and cried"
"It had to be done..."
"I'm so sorry, Yukina... I just hope that he kills me first"
"He was dirty, little Yukina, a monster who deserved to die, remember that"
"She betrayed the sisterhood... she loved a man...and had his children"
"We made her see them die"
"Men are the root of all evil... beware"
"Kill them all, one by one by one!"
As the snow becomes black and red and the crimson sun raises in the sky, as the stench of decay mixes with the burning flesh...
...she doesn't smile, she doesn't cry...
She closes her eyes, throws her head back and laughs.
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