They call her Armageddon. They say one day she'll bring about the fall of this earth, fling it through the void of the blackened space, until the ground beneath us turns to hell and our bodies explode at the wrath of the almighty fire. And she will laugh, mercilessly.
The preachers spin tales of her cruelty, and condone her actions in the name of God, in front of sensitive mothers' eyes. More stories to frighten their children with. "Don't become like this person, or God will condemn you." But is this a reality, or just another one of those religious myths the ministers implant in the minds of the majority, to bend their congregation to their own views?
Forgive me, but I can see beyond the urban legends and biblical tales. I feel her. It's not just my eyes that rest upon her - I can thrust my hand beyond my own space and sense the delicacy of her beautifully fair skin. Even she, with such great powers of mind and control, she cannot sense me. Not while I can taste the ambrosia inside the tears, resting just slightly underneath her eyes, and not while that smooth satin skin delights my fingertips. Here I am, right beside her, although she knows it not.
Natsume has fallen to her knees in the black fog of night, kneeling in dewy soft grass, her eyes searching out beyond the Plateau. What an odd expression it is, which masks her face. A coldness, the pain that must be faced with rejection, and the acceptance of understanding exactly how alone she finds herself. She knows I've left her... But she is wrong.
Natsume is wrong. She, the most concentrated psychic to ever exist. She, possessing the art of bending the reality around her, the key to unlock the chambers of the minds surrounding her. She, with the strength to project herself into the hearts of any she chooses, power to haunt any living being into their most intense nightmares... Natsume is wrong, in so many ways.
Dear woman... I didn't leave you. I -
(Matsuba. I'm not alone. You're still here, aren't you.)
Does she sense me? Surely she cannot; neither my mind or my body surround her; she has not the awareness to detect spirits about her. Or does she?
(You're here. I know it. Show yourself.)
. . .
(Matsuba, no. You didn't leave me. You didn't leave me. You have to be here...)
Denial! Of course. How could I not have understood sooner? Indeed, she senses nothing. She calls for me in vain, she denies her own senses. Natsume, you mind assassin... You feel nothing. Stop lying to yourself.
"Ma... Matsuba..." So now she speaks. Speak again, Natsume-kun, speak again... "Listen... You have to listen to me. You can understand me..."
No, I can't, Natsume; you never gave me the chance to tell you... I'm no telepath... I possess no key, certainly not one into YOUR mind. Please, keep speaking, send your delicious breath out into the wind. Let that unwavering voice spill her heart for me... If you truly have reformed yourself, you'll give your soul to the world around you. Let us hear your truth.
"I speak no lies, Matsuba... You understand. Read into me, come to me. You feel... You feel like no one knows how to feel."
What is this she speaks of? Yes, I can touch her, stroke her, gaze into her eyes... But she closes her hardcover mind to me. No, Natsume, you do lie... Always so cold, you were, and you still are now... You've closed yourself to the world.
(MATSUBA, YOU DON'T TRY!)
"Aughhhhh!" Such a fierce blow to my spirit! I tumble through the astral plane, only coming to rest once my body reapparates on biting chilled steel. I find myself sprawled on all fours, helpless at the feet of this stealthy pantherous being. She fooled me. Speaking in silly fruitless circles, all the while probing for my thoughts in the very air around her. She senses spirits.
Of course. Clairvoyance. A traditional psychic skill. How could I forget it?
Again, her reverberating voice utters the words I tried so hard not to hear. "You don't try, Matsuba. You don't try."
She bends down, until her lips hover inches from my face. Such luscious, ruby lips... "Read me. I know you can. You claim to be only an astral walker, but I know. I have already scanned your heart, Matsuba. Now scan me."
Indeed. She read me so thoroughly she knows me better than I do, myself. I realize there's no way for me to avoid the temptation of that hardcover book, suddenly springing open and pouring all of its pages to my feet. And so, lifting my hand to her temple... I feel her.
As our minds join, memories flood my mind, splashing into every corner with a dull roar. Visions, emotions, I experience them all. A mysterious, unknown lifetime flashes before my eyes.
A little toddler giggles as she levitates a paper cup, but the woman next to her explodes in tears when she sees this, and takes the cup away. The baby is so sad, that Mommy didn't like her new talent, and starts to cry... A raven-haired preteen snarls as her mother attempts to explain something to her, and she throws the woman into the next room, muttering, "I don't defy God..." A teenager stares blankly at the teeny-boppers laughing and chasing each-other in circles just outside her window, wondering if she is supposed to feel lonely without any friends... She wonders what the word "loneliness" truly means...
(Natsume, I can't -)
A grown woman clutches a tiny doll to her chest, and whispers to it, "Even murder doesn't give me emotion. What should I do now, Natsume?"... The pure joy of a wild Haunter spirit inflicts a cracking smile upon that icy woman's face, and she finds her body uncontrollable and overcome by this most glorious thing called laughter... She finally understands what it means to feel... That same raven woman's scarlet eyes rest upon a slim golden frame...
No, no, I cannot see this... My body shudders as I try to escape the beam connecting our minds, but Natsume refuses to release me. And so, I see the vision I covered in dust and set aside for years... Our bodies entwined, as her ghostly hands slide down my back, with curtains of gold and black hair falling around us, and warm, cleased rain humming a soothing, rhythmic melody upon our faces...
(You cannot read me! You can't invade me like this! Stop!)
She only grins. (YOUR vision, Matsuba? Oh no, no. This isn't your vision... It's mine...)
(Vision...) I feel my muscles choking. (Only a vision, Natsume. This isn't reality.)
(Why must you still fight me, and deny me, Matsuba-kun?) A finger, belonging to that same gracious hand I'd seen only moments before, strokes my cheek, exciting the very blood that throbs and races within me. (It's alright... You're not alone anymore. You have someone who understands you now.)
Tears. I can't defeat them... They've escaped from the prison of my eyes... But she's released her captives too.
(Here comes the rain, Matsuba. Just like the vision foretells.)
(But that was only a memory...? A memory of your...) Dare I say it? (Of your desire?)
"Oh, no," she giggles, in that exact tone the content little toddler used, when she discovered her magnificent gifts for the first time. Such a change from the statue of ice she was only minutes before. Or have I only shattered the glassy covering, revealing the creature of light she has been all along? "I'm a psychic, dear boy. I know my strengths. That was a vision of the future."
"You're wrong, Natsume."
"What?" That penetrating fireball of her eye turns to me with curiosity. "You know I'm not wrong."
"You certainly are." There's no need for me to sheath my smile anymore. I can release it now. "That is no vision of the future. You're only seeing the present."
And as the vision foretold, I find my hands cushioning that silken streamlined body, her cranberry lips meeting mine, and our spirits dancing to a peaceful serenade across the heavens, all the while being sprinkled upon by the sweet delight of little droplets of warm rain.
The preachers spin tales of her cruelty, and condone her actions in the name of God, in front of sensitive mothers' eyes. More stories to frighten their children with. "Don't become like this person, or God will condemn you." But is this a reality, or just another one of those religious myths the ministers implant in the minds of the majority, to bend their congregation to their own views?
Forgive me, but I can see beyond the urban legends and biblical tales. I feel her. It's not just my eyes that rest upon her - I can thrust my hand beyond my own space and sense the delicacy of her beautifully fair skin. Even she, with such great powers of mind and control, she cannot sense me. Not while I can taste the ambrosia inside the tears, resting just slightly underneath her eyes, and not while that smooth satin skin delights my fingertips. Here I am, right beside her, although she knows it not.
Natsume has fallen to her knees in the black fog of night, kneeling in dewy soft grass, her eyes searching out beyond the Plateau. What an odd expression it is, which masks her face. A coldness, the pain that must be faced with rejection, and the acceptance of understanding exactly how alone she finds herself. She knows I've left her... But she is wrong.
Natsume is wrong. She, the most concentrated psychic to ever exist. She, possessing the art of bending the reality around her, the key to unlock the chambers of the minds surrounding her. She, with the strength to project herself into the hearts of any she chooses, power to haunt any living being into their most intense nightmares... Natsume is wrong, in so many ways.
Dear woman... I didn't leave you. I -
(Matsuba. I'm not alone. You're still here, aren't you.)
Does she sense me? Surely she cannot; neither my mind or my body surround her; she has not the awareness to detect spirits about her. Or does she?
(You're here. I know it. Show yourself.)
. . .
(Matsuba, no. You didn't leave me. You didn't leave me. You have to be here...)
Denial! Of course. How could I not have understood sooner? Indeed, she senses nothing. She calls for me in vain, she denies her own senses. Natsume, you mind assassin... You feel nothing. Stop lying to yourself.
"Ma... Matsuba..." So now she speaks. Speak again, Natsume-kun, speak again... "Listen... You have to listen to me. You can understand me..."
No, I can't, Natsume; you never gave me the chance to tell you... I'm no telepath... I possess no key, certainly not one into YOUR mind. Please, keep speaking, send your delicious breath out into the wind. Let that unwavering voice spill her heart for me... If you truly have reformed yourself, you'll give your soul to the world around you. Let us hear your truth.
"I speak no lies, Matsuba... You understand. Read into me, come to me. You feel... You feel like no one knows how to feel."
What is this she speaks of? Yes, I can touch her, stroke her, gaze into her eyes... But she closes her hardcover mind to me. No, Natsume, you do lie... Always so cold, you were, and you still are now... You've closed yourself to the world.
(MATSUBA, YOU DON'T TRY!)
"Aughhhhh!" Such a fierce blow to my spirit! I tumble through the astral plane, only coming to rest once my body reapparates on biting chilled steel. I find myself sprawled on all fours, helpless at the feet of this stealthy pantherous being. She fooled me. Speaking in silly fruitless circles, all the while probing for my thoughts in the very air around her. She senses spirits.
Of course. Clairvoyance. A traditional psychic skill. How could I forget it?
Again, her reverberating voice utters the words I tried so hard not to hear. "You don't try, Matsuba. You don't try."
She bends down, until her lips hover inches from my face. Such luscious, ruby lips... "Read me. I know you can. You claim to be only an astral walker, but I know. I have already scanned your heart, Matsuba. Now scan me."
Indeed. She read me so thoroughly she knows me better than I do, myself. I realize there's no way for me to avoid the temptation of that hardcover book, suddenly springing open and pouring all of its pages to my feet. And so, lifting my hand to her temple... I feel her.
As our minds join, memories flood my mind, splashing into every corner with a dull roar. Visions, emotions, I experience them all. A mysterious, unknown lifetime flashes before my eyes.
A little toddler giggles as she levitates a paper cup, but the woman next to her explodes in tears when she sees this, and takes the cup away. The baby is so sad, that Mommy didn't like her new talent, and starts to cry... A raven-haired preteen snarls as her mother attempts to explain something to her, and she throws the woman into the next room, muttering, "I don't defy God..." A teenager stares blankly at the teeny-boppers laughing and chasing each-other in circles just outside her window, wondering if she is supposed to feel lonely without any friends... She wonders what the word "loneliness" truly means...
(Natsume, I can't -)
A grown woman clutches a tiny doll to her chest, and whispers to it, "Even murder doesn't give me emotion. What should I do now, Natsume?"... The pure joy of a wild Haunter spirit inflicts a cracking smile upon that icy woman's face, and she finds her body uncontrollable and overcome by this most glorious thing called laughter... She finally understands what it means to feel... That same raven woman's scarlet eyes rest upon a slim golden frame...
No, no, I cannot see this... My body shudders as I try to escape the beam connecting our minds, but Natsume refuses to release me. And so, I see the vision I covered in dust and set aside for years... Our bodies entwined, as her ghostly hands slide down my back, with curtains of gold and black hair falling around us, and warm, cleased rain humming a soothing, rhythmic melody upon our faces...
(You cannot read me! You can't invade me like this! Stop!)
She only grins. (YOUR vision, Matsuba? Oh no, no. This isn't your vision... It's mine...)
(Vision...) I feel my muscles choking. (Only a vision, Natsume. This isn't reality.)
(Why must you still fight me, and deny me, Matsuba-kun?) A finger, belonging to that same gracious hand I'd seen only moments before, strokes my cheek, exciting the very blood that throbs and races within me. (It's alright... You're not alone anymore. You have someone who understands you now.)
Tears. I can't defeat them... They've escaped from the prison of my eyes... But she's released her captives too.
(Here comes the rain, Matsuba. Just like the vision foretells.)
(But that was only a memory...? A memory of your...) Dare I say it? (Of your desire?)
"Oh, no," she giggles, in that exact tone the content little toddler used, when she discovered her magnificent gifts for the first time. Such a change from the statue of ice she was only minutes before. Or have I only shattered the glassy covering, revealing the creature of light she has been all along? "I'm a psychic, dear boy. I know my strengths. That was a vision of the future."
"You're wrong, Natsume."
"What?" That penetrating fireball of her eye turns to me with curiosity. "You know I'm not wrong."
"You certainly are." There's no need for me to sheath my smile anymore. I can release it now. "That is no vision of the future. You're only seeing the present."
And as the vision foretold, I find my hands cushioning that silken streamlined body, her cranberry lips meeting mine, and our spirits dancing to a peaceful serenade across the heavens, all the while being sprinkled upon by the sweet delight of little droplets of warm rain.