DISCLAIMER: I don't own shaman king!
He hated coming here. He truly did. It wasn't that he didn't love his parents, because he did. He missed them more then he even wanted to wrap his agile mind around. What he hated about this grave yard was how it reminded him. It reminded him of the funeral, the dark hatred, of the confusion and the guilt.
He'd never felt hatred before his parents died. He'd loved his mother, and listened to her requests as best he could, just like his father told him to do when he left for work. He did his best to sit still, did his best not to interupt her when she was talking with her friends, even when they pinched his cheeks and called him cute, something that wasn't particulary appretiated. He ate his vegetables, no matter how much he didn't like them. He liked his mother's smile when he did finish the evil vegetables though, and he liked the lolly-pops that she sometimes snuck him for being a good boy.
He wondered if those lollies had been strawberry, or if they had been some other flavor. He didn't remember it so well anymore. Time wore the good things away from his memory until he questioned if they even exsisted in the first place. Some days he thinks that his father wore cologne. Some days he doesn't. He doesn't remeber the layout of his childhood home anymore. He remembers the front room being covered in flames, but that's it. He doesn't remember the room where he spent so much time studying and talking with Morphine while she was still in her cage. It was a red carpet, a lot of huge books on dowsing, and nothing else.
He has but one photo of his family that survived the fire. His mother was smiling widely, though not at the camera. She was smiling at the bundle in her arms that had a small dusting of emerald hair. Him as a baby. His Father was smiling at his baby-self as well. Lyserg supposed one of his parents friends had taken the picture while his parents hadn't been paying attention. but he loves the somewhat singed photo nonetheless. To him it is proof. It is proof that his parents loved him. He needs that proof, because if his parent's never loved him, then why should he go so far as to betray his friends so as to avenge them?
Other children could just simply ask their parents if they loved them, and their parents would respond with a whole hearted yes. But Lyserg could do no such thing. He could come here of course. Pray at their graves and ask them in his mind, but that is a fruitless effort. His parents are far from here. Inside of the great spirit, oblivious to him. They wait to loose their memories of him, and Lyserg waits for the pain to fade from the forefront of his mind.
Lyserg felt tears slip down his cheeks. At least when he was younger, he'd been able to think that his parent's were still watching over him somehow. Now there was no such comfort. But something made him just a little bit glad that his father couldn't see him crying like this. He didn't want anyone seeing him like this. Let alone the man that he admired above everyone else. That's why he usually came here in the dead of night, when only the moon and the stars could see his tears.
But today was the aniversary, so he came during the light of day. It was the one personal day a year that he took off from school, plenty of kids had a couple of 'mental health' days when they faked sick so that they wouldn't have to take a test that day, or so that they could just lie around all day. Lyserg did no such thing. Today was the only rest he took from his work studying. Today was the day that he reminded himself that Asukura Hao; The bastard that dealt him this pain, and the king of the universe was never to be forgiven for what he had done.
This is an angsty Lyserg centirc One-shot . Yeah. Nothing much to say really... I just made him ramble and rant and... be teenage angstish?
Also this isn't a crossover… How odd. I think this is only the second time I've done anything that's not a crossover….