Heroes are meant to be alone.
I am alone.
But I am no hero.
Chapter 1 : Dreams
by: frost2light
The woman was sheathed in multi colours, her long skirt and loose blouse presenting to any who would look a dash of purple over vibrant yellow or orange, dabbling later with maroon over a interesting violet, clashing within itself yet forming a multitude of fascinating imprints on a material that was both flimsy and strong, swishing and swirling around her hunched body as she moved with a grace that the wearer did not have. Her thick greying brown hair was immaculately done up in plaits before the numerous thick ropes were collected haphazardly as if the woman had lost patience into a simple white scarf that was so different from the clothes she was wearing. She plodded around the small space, plucking cushions and plumping them up, smacking them gently, as if afraid to hurt them before placing them back where they belonged. Her shrewd beady black eyes scanned the room, looking for any items that were out of place, or would cause any unneeded attention, before nodding in satisfaction when she found none. Her current job done, she folded herself gracefully into a chair, arranging her body into a comfortable position in front of her props and her dried red lips curled up into a predatory smile.
Everything was ready, the stage set. All she needed now was to wait, wait patiently for the next victim, the next in line of the needed number.
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Anisha Letie giggled drunkenly with her female friend, their high heels click clacking tipsily on the black tar down the darkened street. Both of them were dressed up to the nines, their choice of fashion carefully deliberated to show off their youth and vigour. Their short skirts were paired tastefully with low sheer tops, revealing mile long legs and proudly baring assets begging to be touched and appreciated. They finished off their selections with necklaces and bangles that adorned their flesh, making people look both at the long white necks graceful like a swan's and slim hands that still clutched a half full bottle of shimmering golden amber liquid, like molten gold the colour of the sun, their jewellery tinkling gaily in the dark with every step they took. The night had shown them enough fun and laughter, holding their normal lives at bay, almost enough so that the sadness and grief of the past had somehow been forgotten just for awhile.
"Back to your place or mine…darling?" The woman with spiky black hair asked, adding the endearment as an afterthought, before planting a big sloppy kiss on Anisha's cheek. "We can go on and on there…without any interruption…" She continued, eyebrows waggling, wiping the small patch of drool that lingered with the back of her hand, her voice thick, as if her tongue was too big for her mouth, slurring out the words as she stumbled over her own feet that had began to feel unlike hers, nearly falling flat on her face. She giggled madly at that near chance, doubling over at her hilarity while Anisha accompanied her laughter.
"Which one's nearer?" Anisha asked, always the level headed one, even though she herself was in danger of tripping over her feet and staying down to sleep off the alcohol.
"Yours." The black haired girl said triumphantly, grinning from ear to ear, proud that she could still think rationally.
"Mine then." And both of them, with their arms around each other shoulders trooped onwards to Anisha's apartment, singing out loud into the night, changing the lyrics into a somewhat x rated version, all the while laughing and giggling like mad women, not caring if their voices disturbed the neighbourhood or disrupted anyone's slumber. It was their night and they will, by all means, do whatever they wanted, even if it were deemed selfish.
But, just before they arrived at Anisha's rented apartment, Anisha's eyes caught sight of a small, partially hidden structure right in the middle of the taller brick and cement buildings and stopped short. Squinting into the dark, she mumbled questions towards herself, her mind trying to push through the thick sludge and kick start the grey matter that were suddenly as useful as thick mud and tried to remember if there was anything like it before. Part of her scoffed at the ridiculousness of it all, wanting only to just go, but the stronger part of her was being drawn inexorably towards the structure without knowing why. It was simple, just a tarp covering a small extended part of a shop, but the way it stood, slumped towards one side, as if held up by invisible strings struck her as odd.
"Anisha?"
Anisha ignored the plaintive whine and continued her track towards the small lopsided structure, her eyes trying to trace the suddenly unintelligible handwriting advertising services of some kind. She blinked, trying to clear the cobwebs that appeared in her drunken state and piece back the sudden fracture of one perfect piece but only succeeded in creating a laser show, enough to make the creator of Star War's go green with jealousy.
"Hydra, what does it say?" Frustrated at her inability to interpret a simple thing, Anisha beckoned to her friend who sighed out loud in impatience before reluctantly wobbling towards the sign, her eyes scrunching half close to peer closely towards the faded wood that bore too many marks of both age and weather.
"Taaa…rr..?" Hydra answered woozily, her brain addled with the amount of alcohol that she had consumed, making it twice as hard to read and thrice as long to even understand the alphabets that joined together to form a word.
"What does that say?" Anisha bugged, like a petulant child who needled an irritated parent for an answer.
"Aaaa….give me a minute will you?" Hydra retaliated somewhat rudely, successfully quietening an abashed Anisha who shifted from one foot to another in response, waiting impatiently for the answer. Rolling her eyes skyward at the way her friend was acting, Hydra continued to try leaning in closer towards the sign, her button nose almost touching the wooden plank, trying to decipher the stupid thing that had caught her friend's attention.
"Taaa…rrrrooot… Reeeadding."
"Tarot… Reading?" Anisha mumbled, her face darkening for an instant before brightening up the next moment, grabbing hold of her friend's arm, she pulled Hydra into the tent, despite the protests that the black haired woman voiced out.
"Don't worry…it would be fun." Anisha reassured Hydra who snorted in indifference, scowling and muttering curses under her breath, but their banter was soon drowned out by the ominous clanging of the tower clock, one time after another, announcing that it was now midnight.
And the woman in the tent like structure who wore multicoloured garments smiled in satisfaction.
The prey had just fallen into her net.
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Cagalli Yula Athha was torn between the choice to laugh or cry when the mirror reflecting her dismal reflection did not wail in agony and despair or crack into a million pieces when she stood in front of it. She knew she was exaggerating the truth and being too critical over the smudges of black under her eyes, but she was not in a particularly positive mood, in fact the black clouds that had hovered over her head since the start of the day had continued to darken respectably with each passing moment and if a persons' imagination was rich enough, they would be able to see flashes of lightning and the heavy drum rolls of thunder that warned of an impending storm. Indeed, Cagalli was quite thankful that most of them had been savvy enough to keep out of harm's way.
Sighing to herself, she turned away to rummage around in her cupboard which was hopelessly messy from the lack of effort of keeping it tidy and neat and randomly picked an item, glancing at it to make sure there weren't any fur on it, no thanks to the pet that thinks food was everywhere, before tugging the loose garment over her head. It was among the hundreds of others that had stayed in her wardrobe through the years, amassing into a stunning amount that threatened to erupt anytime whenever she opened the cupboard doors. Pushing firmly against the ones that had dislodged when she pulled out the earlier shirt, she knew that she had to clean up some day or things just would not continue to fit no matter how big a space it'd be. Vowing to do so sometime this year, she walked off in the general direction of the bathroom grinning slightly when she remembered the scenes where her brother had clucked exasperatedly around her like a mother hen before pleading,sounding almost desperate to Cagalli to allow him to do the honours.
Chuckling at that particular memory while absentmindedly folding the oversized sleeves up towards her shoulders, a habit she acquired to prevent them from getting wet as she went through her daily routine of floss, brush and wash, her idle mind running through the items that she needed to do tomorrow, mentally making a list of things that needed to be done. She enjoyed being busy, loved to be occupied with the activities of life, making decisions, helping people, being bossy and loud and noisy, and most of all being alive. She wanted people to see her for who she is, determined, feisty, stubborn, wanting them to acknowledge her presence not because she was the girl who lost her parents in that horrific murder, or the poor orphan girl who nobody wants, or any of those degrading names that belittled what her parents had given her. She needed none of their sympathy.
The mirror reflected the fire burning bright in those amber orbs, the want, need to make things work, but none of it could cover the sadness that flickered in the dancing flames. The pain that gnawed at her soul every time she remembered the things that she had lost within that one day, accompanying her brother as they bawled their eyes out during the funeral, calling out to ears that would never hear again, arms that would never comfort a small child again, eyes that would no longer soften in love or a mouth that would quirk up and smile even if an admonishment was given before. Neither of them had wanted to believe that their beloved papa and mama were gone, that the sheltered world that they had once known had vanished without a warning. Both of them had been shouting for either of them to wake up, promising over and over again to be good, to do the household chores without prompting, to finish their homework before watching their favourite programmes on television, vowing each and every single thing that six year olds were supposed to do, just so that their parents would open their eyes and just wake up. But, nothing had happened, not once had their parents twitched or moved and the two heartbroken six year olds watched helplessly, restrained by fellow relatives as their parent's coffins were laid slowly to rest side by side six feet underground.
The nightmare had started without any of them realising what was in store for them. It had been so sudden, the day beginning so normally and ending so horribly. Papa and mama had been where they were supposed to be every morning, mama wishing her good morning as she came down the steps, rushing as usual because she had woken up late, smiling that brilliant, confident smile of hers before turning back to burry herself in the papers, nibbling at the toast her husband had prepared for her, the strong aroma of roasted coffee lingering in the kitchen, the smell of breakfast not far behind. Papa had admonished her fondly in that exasperated tone before handing her a plate already filled to the brim with her favourite foods. Cagalli had smiled cheekily at him, teasing him about the lime green apron with miniature bright pink hearts peppering its surface and frills all around the cloth, a present of hers to him for his birthday just recently, wolfing down the delicious food that he had prepared.
Mama was the breadwinner of the family, a lawyer in an up and coming law firm, working late hours and sometimes not being there whenever both of them needed her. However, they did not mind, because there was still papa, papa who took them shopping, worked with them on their homework, played catch with them, the man who was the emotional if not the financial pillar of the family. He was an author, a cheerful father who had an imagination without boundaries creating imaginary worlds, of beings with pure white wings living in crystal palaces, merpeople who swam gracefully in the sea, friends with all creatures under water, wise beings with two feet, equipped with the knowledge of the world. He allowed sin to enter to teach his readers about the grey in the world, to make them think, to allow them to judge for themselves the right and the wrong. He was the person who had single handedly brought beautiful stories of faraway lands for children, giving them what their imaginations could not come up with.
But, everything crashed and burned, violence taking away everything she held dear. They had been in school when it happened, their class ending abruptly with the voice of their headmistress calling for them to come over to the office over the public system, they had been so happy that they could escape the boring monotonous drone of the teacher teaching their history class while their friends gave both of them curious yet envious and admiring glances, wishing that it were them going out of class. They had noticed the stricken look on their homeroom teacher's face and the headmistress's forced joviality, puzzled to their attitudes, but the minds of a six year old child was filled with innocence and bright sunshine, neither one of them expecting bad news much less murder, mayhem and death. All they had was a sense of something gone horribly wrong
And by the time they reached home, accompanied by their homeroom teacher who held on tightly to their small hands, as if trying to garner courage for herself, instead of comforting them, they understood. Everything had felt so surreal, almost like a part from a show, a movie, a slice of fiction instead of reality, from the flashing red lights on the ambulances and police vehicles casting an on off illumination on all of the people's faces to the looks of pity that fell on them from the crowd with each step they took which parted into two, like Moses and the red sea, allowing them first class seats and a free entrance to participate in an event they never would have willingly joined. They had tried to convince each other silently through tightly clutched hands that things would be going to be all right, that it was all a well planned joke, both of them had watched programmes like this on television. And they waited patiently for the man to jump up and say "Candid Camera!"
But nothing like that occurred, no man with the huge ear splitting grin, no hidden cameras, nothing. Only stretchers with white sheets coloured with huge red blossoms carried away by sombre paramedics with sorrowful eyes, shocked gasps and murmured whispered condolences by their neighbours who within themselves were thankful that the tragedy had not happened to them. Both of them had trained their eyes, bright violet and amber orbs, on the shapes under the white cloth, hoping to see something other than fingers that dripped maroon, but still nothing. Their parents were dead, killed by unknown assailants for an unknown reason.
After that fateful day, Kira Yamato had been the one who took care of her, cooked, cleaned, washed and made sure she ate while she started herself on a countdown till breakdown. She had refused to accept the fact that her parents were gone, that she would no longer be able to see them, hear them or talk to them. She forbade anybody to mention anything regarding their deaths, not trying even to acknowledge reason that she had to move on. All she wanted was answers nobody could give her and wished she could die as well. She had nearly succeeded in driving herself insane, caught up in her own world, and it was only when her brother had thrown himself before a truck that was about to hit her that she woke up from the self imposed coma. And from that day onwards, she promised her brother that she would live, for her parent's sake, for her sake, and enjoy most out of life while working equally as hard. They who could not be here to watch her shine, may they watch her from Heaven and be proud.
And speaking about worry, Cagalli's smooth forehead creased with frown, she had noticed recently that Kira was looking more and more tired every day, his skin the colour of chalk compared to the healthy glow he used to have. He was hiding something, things that resulted in dark circles under his eyes which were even more pronounced than her own, and there were times when she had been awoken by his whimpers of distress and helpless pleadings, his voice carrying through the thin walls of their cheap apartment. She had questioned him about it the next morning, but he had looked away and just shook his head, smiling at her like always before changing the topic. Unwilling to let it go, yet respecting his decision to do so, she had faith that he would bring it up sooner or later on his own accord, and thus not pressing the issue. A small part of her was relieved, half afraid he would question her on her own dismal appearance instead, which would undeniably lead to the dreams that plagued her every night, making her almost afraid to close her eyes, she had not the courage to face those emotions again.
So real…
Cagalli could not understand the reason why she felt the way she did whenever those dreams came to her, that overwhelming tidal wave of sadness, grief and pain, burning red anger and hatred, mixing and churning, turning into tornado of complicated emotions that threatened to drown her, cutting off her air supply, choking her with the deep paralysing despair that came with a loved one's betrayal. It was different from what she experienced with her parents, it was deeper, sharper, a knife with serrated edges that shredded and tore, jagged parts and pieces that crumbled and tore again, so torturing, worst than having her heart torn out from her body. She knew nobody would believe her if she ever told others about her feelings, because how could one feelwhat one could not see? It was hilarious but so true Each and every of her dreams were shrouded in mist, a thick white smog that created blurred figures that moved and spoke, yet the emotions transmitted itself clearly over the blindness, raw, naked, intense, making her unable to do anything but to accept and feel.
"Come on Cagalli, you have lots of things to do tomorrow. You cannot afford to stay up thinking about all these…go to sleep." Cagalli chastised her reflection in the mirror, but she knew that it was all false bravado, her voice an octave too high, sounding as unconvinced as she felt.
Turning away from the mirror, not wanting to look at her pathetic self any longer, she walked out of the bathroom and into her bedroom, flopping onto the bed with a loud sigh, grabbing the soft toy in a shape of a lion that was placed right beside her pillow to cuddle and hug, not hesitating to press her face in the worn out and more than slightly scruffy toy to gain some comfort. She wished she could confide to Kira, but reason held her back, not wanting to burden her twin with another trivial matter, especially not when it seemed that he had other things that were bothering him as well. Therefore, the most logical step was to get some sleep, some much needed rest time to recharge and rejuvenate as tomorrow is going to be a long day of classes, presentations, and meetings.
Keeping herself busy with school life allowed her that short period of time to not think and she truly treasured her nomination and election of student council president. Being in that position gave her responsibilities that needed her to be awake and fully functional, or at least presentable, and she hated the way the lecturers expected her to dress up as if she was going to appear at some ball and it would definitely not help her cause if she turned up looking like China's national treasure. They spoke nothing of the way she dressed, but their pointed glances made her blood boil in indignation. She was very much capable in running the council, with or without heavy make up that made her look like the geishas from the olden days, and clothes that sung of the latest fashion. Yet, she grudgingly had to admit that wearing the same type and colour of pants and button up blouse was challenging the limits of conservative and bordering very dangerously on boring.
Appearances, first impressions and all that what not.
"Oh come on Cagalli, as if having not enough sleep is not depressing enough, you need to bring that up! Sleep!" She commanded herself exasperatedly, determinedly flipping the light switch off, plunging the room into darkness with only the slight bluish tinge of pearl the moon emitted, forcing herself to close her eyes with the same stubbornness she used to achieve whatever she set her mind to do.
One little sheep, two little sheep, three little sheep….
And after awhile, slumber claimed her as a willing hostage, her eyelids fluttering close, long lashes resting on smooth creamy white skin as her breathing evened out and deepened, the slow rise and fall of her chest following the rhythm of the living dead as she spiralled down into a dark oblivion, the beginning of a dreamscape that she was destined to have.
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"No…no…I don't want to see this! Please!" Anisha Lettie let out a choked sob before a chilling heartwrenching howl broke free, piercing through the fog in Hydra's mind, snapping her wide awake. Tears broke free like water from a dam and rushed down Anisha's pale face, her fingers falling slack allowing the glass bottle containing the rest of the golden liquid to fall unhindered with a loud thump.
"Anisha?"
"Nooooooooo!"
"Anisha! Damn you! What did she see! Wasn't this supposed to be a tarot session! What in the world happened!" Hydra exclaimed horrified, her voice raising a few octaves in panic. The drunken state she had been in earlier had all but evaporated when Anisha Lettie, her best friend uttered a stricken sob and just disappeared,emotionally if not physically, leaving behind an empty husk, a body without a soul. Hydra's first instinct when Anisha had insisted they went over for a closer look at the sign, had been to get far away from this place but Anisha had scoffed at her insisting that there was nothing wrong and Hydra wished she had been more awake to realise that small discrepancy. Because Anisha had never trusted tarot readings, in fact, she never believed in anything mystical, never, not after what had happened five years ago. Chasing after wisps of maybes and just in cases had resulted in her only brother's death. And Anisha was a quick learner and a slow forgetter.
"I just showed her what she wanted to hide, that was all." The woman replied simply with no trace of emotion whatsoever appearing on her unlined face, as if the things that were unravelling before her was none of her business, she was just an audience to something as interesting as a fly being caught in a spider's web. Volunteering no more other than those sceptic words, she provided none of the answers that Hydra needed.
"Damn you.." Hydra cursed out loud in anger and frustration, getting up and paying no heed to the consequences her sudden movement caused, not even caring when the wooden rickety chair that she was sitting on scraped loudly on the gravely ground or when it toppled with a loud solid thunk, nothing else mattered. Her fear increased exponentially with every passing moment her friend continued to stare vacantly into the space in front of her, like a lifeless rag doll sitting brokenly in a chair, abandoned by her mistress that was supposed to shower her with love and hug her close when she slept every night.
"Anisha! Come on say something! Damn it! Come on answer me!" Frantically, she called her friend's name repeatedly, her hand patting Anisha's cheek gently at first, but gradually becoming harder with each try, but all her actions were futile, nothing was gained from the unresponsive human in front of her. Apologizing silently in her heart for the next thing she was about to do, hoping her friend would forgive her, but not caring if she did not when she woke up, as long as she woke up, Hydra drew her hand back and slapped her friend's face so hard, Anisha's head whipped back with the force and a trickle of red started down the side of her mouth.
Waiting expectantly and getting nothing, not even a twitch, the strong façade she put up cracked. "Anisha! Anisha!" She repeated, her usually soothing low, sultry voice trembling and filled with dread and uncertainty, knowing that something was wrong, yet unable to do anything to remedy the whole situation. "Come on Anisha…this is not funny!" Hydra called out again, pleading, her hand rising to push against her almost comatose friend staring vacantly into space. And Anisha's only response was to get up woodenly and walking out without a backward glance.
"I won't forgive you if anything happens to her. I swear to God!" Hydra threatened the woman who did not even flinch at both the threat and the vicious glare Hydra gave her before she started to chase after her doomed friend. Nothing the dark haired girl said would make a difference. She was no match for her, not with her master's protection. Her lips curling up into a slight smile, her hands rose slowly into the air and with a deft flick of her wrist, everything around her disappeared without a trace. The worn out cloth that covered the roof, the table, the chairs, and all the pillows that were tastefully thrown about, all of them vanishing the next second leaving only the glowing crystal ball that floated in the air before her, bobbing minutely up and down.
Lightly touching the crystal with her fingers, the woman too faded into the darkness, her whispered words floating gently in the night's breeze, "Master…the next one is coming…."
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Kira Yamato turned restlessly in his bed, hand held up defensively to enemies that only he could see, his head flipping side to side like an on off switch, his breaths coming out in ragged sobs and pants. His whole body was tensed, distress pouring out of every pore as his mumbled words were lost in the darkness of the night.
"Don't, please Athrun….Athrun…" His plea ended with a keening wail, filled with helplessness and despair. Tears leaked through his long eyelashes and streamed down his pale face, wetting the pillow beneath him. The dream had slipped through the defences he had put up, thick walls that promised no cracks and no entry. But, somehow, the dark, menacing wisps found weaknesses and exploited it, slithering and slipping through those minute cracks, dropping in uninvited, unashamed at its unwelcome intrusion, providing the sleeping teen images that he did not want to see much less repeating every night.
He was being murdered in each and every repetition. In the dream, the brown haired boy was pleading with his best friend who looked on without remorse, the knife glinting evilly in the dark. He had tried to explain, had tried to make the other teen understand, that everything was just a lie, a hoax to get rid of the next King, because he had stumbled upon something that some people did not want him to know. He had tried to persuade his best friend, to convince him that given a chance he could prove his innocence. Never once blaming the raven haired teen with glorious white wings about his decision, he understood the responsibilities of the teen, yet, he could not help the sense of betrayal, of helplessness. He did not want to die. Not when his people would be in danger. He did not want to leave his headstrong twin behind, because she would cry, and most of all, he did not want to die because it would mean that his best friend had sinned.
"Please don't do this…" Kira mumbled, his voice so forlorn, but never giving up.
"Athrun..please…"
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Anisha Letie was walking towards her death and no one, not even she knew it, the only witnesses being the stars and the sliver of the moon that hung high in the midnight sky. There was a wind blowing, though stronger on the roof where she was so dangerously balanced on its edge. It made her shiver slightly, but she made no move to pull her nightgown tighter around her, allowing the white to billow about her, creating an illusion of a ghost. Tendrils of her ebony black hair danced along with the flimsy cloth as she made her way in stilted steps, like a puppet jerked forward by its strings, slowly but surely towards the empty air and the quiet street beneath her. She halted, just for a moment, her head shaking perceptibly, as if making a last futile protest about the deed that she was about to do before she stilled entirely and bowed her head, like a scolded child listening to the words that only she could hear. The moon that disappeared behind clouds appeared briefly and illuminated her face, giving the tortured expression life as the tears escaped the barrier her eyelids presented and trickled down her pale cheeks.
"You are right….I was the one who should have died…I should have died….not him…never him.." She repeated brokenly, over and over again in anguish, her words blurred by the soft sobs that punctured her sentences. Her jerky steps resuming, it soon brought her nearer and nearer to the edge. Yet through it all, the woman was oblivious of that important fact, caught up in a web of her own making, seeing images that only she could see, regretting past things that was not worth another death. Time seemed to stop when the woman's right foot hovered in the night air with nothing below her, at last hesitating for that one crucial second, enough for somebody to pull her back before she fell, but all was lost when she leaned forward, almost welcoming the fall and she plummeted below with barely a sound, gravity pulling at her greedily, welcoming the victim who was stupid enough to try to defy it.
"No! Grab her!" A male voice rang out desperately, hand outstretched, a black shadow rushing across the small length of the rooftop.
"Kuso! We were not in time!" Another voice joined the first, shriller, harsher, but equally as stressed.
Two figures burst through the metal door which opened to the roof with a loud clang when it slammed into the brick wall behind, breaking the silence of the night. Both of them lunged frantically, desperately, at where the woman was standing last, one arm stretching as long as it could while the other on the ledge for balance. The taller shadow managed to catch hold of a piece of white but only for awhile before the strain became too much and started to rip, the flimsy gauze not worth anything. Both of them stared in horror, flailing wildly, trying to catch hold of something, anything of the woman, but achieving nothing as the woman continued her free fall, the sound of her nightgown ripping and that small square fluttering in the cold night air in the shadow's clenched fist the only thing that was left behind, proof that they had at one point tried. Aghast, they could do nothing but look helplessly before knowing with a certainty when the woman left this world, brought by the sickening crunch-crack-splatter of a body hitting the ground fifteen floors below.
"Kuso…Kuso!"
Author's note: Ororororo...trying to write two ficcies at one go is taxing...I had been planning this one to be a "short and sweet" type of story, but it just grew and grew! Everybody's clamouring for attention! So now what was supposed to be a maybe three to five chapter story is expanding and lengthening into an epic...! Oh but nevermind, I rather be swamped by muses than to be a dried up lake. So people, please read and review! I sincerely thank you for all your time.
p.s: grr...I need to win the lottery...