Aka no Kuro
By SMYGO4EVA
Red and black, both dark colors, and both stained by sin and death, its symbolism endless and unquenchable. To the mind both can mean the difference whether or not one can welcome death or to stray far away from its icy grasp. It would be inevitable that one is marked by death, but is it optional that one can be marked by sin, or is it not?
Even with an untainted heart, one can still be torn by the simple acts that one does on purpose or simply by accident. Things can become black by what they have seen, and red as the blood they had spilt. White would only symbolize death, no colors would be bright again and nothing can ever become beautiful.
The stillness of the air threatens the dissonance of the black and red.
The magician would know that very well, almost too well. He was bound to two different dimensions, one of his quest alongside the warrior Kurogane, the princess Sakura, the white mascot Mokona and the determined Syaoran, who revealed himself as an imposter in more ways than one. There was trust that was broken and nothing that could be easily threaded once again, and the magician found himself disillusioned and resigned to his fate, that of death itself.
An assistant of the other dimension was signed to her post with her master, the one who created her, but saw her only as a failed creation, something that could have surpassed a law that was unbroken, but alas, it wasn't meant to be her. In her stance, she sought fixation and escape from her fate that was to come swiftly and painlessly, so she found it. She found it in the magician who was amongst the group that she and her master had watched over for quite some time. She saw that he had something to hide, the pain that would soon be his downfall by the past that haunted him so. She knew that he wanted to hide the pain, but it would eat him alive if he didn't let it kill him in the end.
She was to give him ecstasy to make up for the anguish he had suffered, and there was bound to be consequence. There was bound to be a price to pay for him to deserve such pleasure, even if that price was meant to end a certain existence.
There was bound to be.
Red and black, intertwining through and through like poison within water. It spreads like wildfire but still leaves a mark upon the canvas, forever etched in the heart, never to leave. Sin and death are bound to each other; these two colors are stained within the magician and the assistant. There is no stopping to the madness that they both created, no stopping at all.