/ La fleur parle. /
Sumeragi
Hokuto saw the early hours of the morning as she saw it on many other
occasions. The
colors were incorrect in the most beautiful sense, blurry and
yellow-white, the memories of the
night she had never slept in constricted only
to stars, city stars that were artificial and created
illusions in her mind
about back then. Hours ago.
There
was something amiss in the air when she breathed it, seeing the gray fall about
the
burgeoning sunshine in the morning, contemplating the number of murders
already taken place
that very night. Perhaps it was the smell; faint beginnings
of life in Tokyo that morning concerning
food and wasted gas, the puddles of
vaguely acidic rain on the ground in tiny replicas of the
ocean, mingling with
the vision in her mind racked with boredom and curiosity of steel bars
holding
up the tunnel, of him grasping the bar and sliding down red tainted steel..
She
dourly smiled at her own metaphors. What a world it was, as such things
happened every
day in a city like this. As much as she denied thinking of it,
the imagery kept coming back to her,
especially in recent times. Especially,
while with him.
Looking
toward the rain soaked stone wall he had jumped over, she mentally braced
herself for a
white hand to surface, gripping the concrete with a supernatural
but refined physical prowess,
finally then, showing his large, sun-colored eyes
beating into the soul like a human heart about to
expire.
She knew.
As
much as the other five out there knew, she had watched him, befriended him,
played with him,
and became sure within months. His elite mannerisms, his
beautiful charms that matched her
own, and she came to love the killer, the
assassin who was after her brother, eyeing him in the
dark recesses of the
world below at this very moment. She had no doubt that while he had gone
to
'investigate', he by nature would not appear until the action was over, leaving
his interest wholly
devoted to other, more pleasing pursuits..
"Sei-chan..
master of pleasure.." she laughed out loud, disturbing a flock of birds singing
gaily in
the trees above, the little marionettes made of pale discolored
clothes screaming out of her sight.
As she watched, one of the birds caught in
the telephone wires; a sickening wet sound
permeating the air as it impaled
itself in the jagged clips hanging there.
It
fell, quite dead, a meter beyond her pristine white shoes, splattering the
street with blood, tiny
trails dripping into the pretend ocean and dieing it
pink. Horrific as it was, she stood her ground for
a few moments, open mouthed,
waiting for it to get back up again. It did not.
Curious, she stepped forward.
Gathering
it in her hands, inspecting it's red insides, looking curiously at it's pretty
black eyes and
smiling at it, the poor little thing. Subaru had never been able
to tolerate death. Particularly messy
death. As a child he would sink into day
long fits of tears, sobbing when he saw his ghostly
acquaintances in the
position of which some of them had died: miss traffic accident, mister
cyanide
suicide, little one's mother who smothered her with a favorite pillow. She had
seen those,
too. Was it different, now that she had known him?
She
closed her eyes and longed for sleep. She could make believe then that it was
indeed the
ocean in front of her, the city smells transformed instantly into
coastal salt, the murmurs of human
beings diluted into the shouting of
seagulls, her dream. He wasn't there, there was no murder,
because animals
would never do such things. In a way, she loved, in a way, she hated..
They
became carnivorous. The gulls turned to ravens, feeding upon the body of the
cute little
white dove, the little bell on it's neck growing, crushing, ringing
brazenly like the cemetary bell
inside a Christian church. It moved as if alive
with the tearing and crunching of it's body, ringing
silently, a plea in death
to stop the terror. It was in her hands.. eating away her hands. She
opened her
eyes and dropped the corpse in horror, the splash sending creeping towers of the
pretend ocean towards her face, and she jerked away on instinct. A fault, the
fault was hers, then.
"Subaru.. I feel for you.." she said quietly to him.
Looking
to the place where the two of them had departed, Hokuto wondered where they had
gone.
/ Etes-vous etrange? /
FINITION PROVISOIRE
One day,
the author was thinking about Hokuto going on a murder spree. So she took
the
kotoris instead. : )
