I'm a horrible human being for making you all wait for more than a year for one bloody chapter. And I swear I'll try to update this sooner. On my heart.
Karakuri 卍 Burst.
[Chapter Four: Of Nightmares and Shouts.]
-People tend to have nightmares about the things they fear the most: Dying, losing someone, falling eternally… things between those categories. Is there a reason I do not?
/I dream of an Orphanage, as I've exposed before to you, Master Kaito… but every time the dreams are different somehow, yet they always end the same. The girl is taken away as she screams in agony – she dies. And I always find myself waking up with shouts burning at the back of my throat…
/The dream flows through my mind – as if I had lived it: they hurt most of the time. In my dream I know something –someone- is taken away from me… and my eye – well, the one that is blind now, somehow hurts… when I shouldn't feel anything, I know; that is why I called for you, Master – I hoped you might be able to help me.
Days are the same.
Time passes, as slowly as it always does. People fall into constant routines.
They make guard.
-… It's always the same, sadly. From the nights I get a full time sleep to the ones I've barely slept a few hours. The constant reminder of how I can't save the girl in the dream kills me every time. I tend to remember vividly the bright color of her blood. And it is then when I wake up. Shouting, sweating and gripping my sheets to the point of digging my nails into the mattress.
/There are times when I wake up crying thick red tears that crawl from the back of my throat. It is only a dream; I can't understand why it affects me so deeply; or why it's the only dream that runs over my mind – again and again…
The mission started.
The newbie behind him was half his size and a third his age.
The child was adorable, most would think he was taken because there were no other people to do it; but he had gotten there with his tiny feet and own free will.
The arm between his hands was taller than him, yet he managed. It was weird to see his face – full of determination, with the big, green eyes almost as big as half of his face. Len turned around, giving him a second glance – almost sighing in resignation.
-Why are you here, again? – Len asked, turning around and getting down to the boy's eye level.
-They took my sister – He said with a high pitched voice that forced itself not to crack.
-They took her? What do you mean?
-A man appeared one day – He said -, and took her away -, he frowned -. I don't know where they took her, but I miss her. I told mom I would protect her, and the man with red eyes took her any way…
His mind ran back to his dream – red eyes; platinum hair. He sighed, watching how the boy's eyes began to sparkle with grieving tears.
-How old is she? – He asked, almost too caught up in the younger eyes.
-Nineteen… -He said as if she was the younger sister, needed to be protected from the monsters under the bed. He almost laughed, but the determination in the little boy with green hair and eyes was too serious for Len to mock him.
Len's expression shifted to concern as he said:
-I hear screams… and I am exhausted every time I wake up. I am afraid of falling asleep -frightened even. For some reason I am afraid; something at the back of my mind tells me I might not wake up.
/I might be hallucinating – I know. But what if I am not? What do I do, then?
The child was behind him, half-running as he tried to catch up to him, he gasped to breathe, and the older couldn't help but feel guilty.
-Do you want to rest for a minute?
The child stops and supports himself on his knees, nodding vaguely. He smiled at the irony. Hadn't the little boy said the blond would be tired before he was?
Dawn was falling, and he knew it wasn't wise to return to the quarters at the hour. The child fell asleep, and against his will, he followed.
He woke up to the muffling sounds of someone desperately trying to break free.
-I cannot rest – he says – I cannot fall asleep, and that frustrates me, every time! I find myself tossing the bed sheet to the floor wondering how it can be so hot with them on and… freezing without them; time doesn't pass, and yet it runs. It's complicated.
/The bags under my eyes are growing, and the little that remain give me weird, fascinated looks, wondering if I am traumatized at what happened. Their looks are pitying; even too bothersome for me to bear. Their minds, so… simple, I am not traumatized (Am I?). I'm not even fazed because of it!
/Piko died, yes –he was my friend- a good friend… like a dog: loyal. I shouldn't mourn him. He died because of his own stupidity; his bravery, as most would call. Everyone here dies a hero… even if they were not one. Even if they were the worst scumbag in the whole of the world! They said they were great; if they had been great, they wouldn't have died! They wouldn't… t-they…
Master Kaito flinched at his words and proceeded to clear his throat:
-I know how that can affect you… but you have to accept it, Len – maybe…
-I have! I have accepted it! Many times! – He runs his fingers through his hair.
He felt trapped as he caught his breath.
There she was, staring down at him with the gun on his temple. Her happiness was undeniable as she saw his disgusted face as he smelled the blood on her hands, his eyes growing in surprise – he became terrified.
"Could she… all of them?" He thought watching her smirk. Weirdly, that ceased to bother him.
Her smile faltered as she saw the fear dissipating from his eyes. Her surprise was little – but true; no trace of fear or disgust were on his face when, barely seconds ago his face showed only how terrified he was. He smiled: there was nothing else to lose if she killed him on the spot.
-Come on - He said -, I don't mind.
The glint on her eye vanished with his words.
-Meh – She said, lowering the gun -; I'll finish you later.
-… Their deaths replay, over and over in my head! I imagine how they died! I smell the blood under my fingernails and on my sleeves! I have accepted it. I have!
Master reflects on that for a minute or so – every second is excruciating for the younger male as a dead silence falls upon them. Len observes Kaito as he falls to the conclusion:
He's turning mad… losing his humanity; if you wish to call it that. Len breathes heavily – wondering, too if he has. Master looks at him, almost too emotionless for his own taste.
-Len, listen to me – He says -, I am sorry. I'm afraid there's nothing I can do.
Len's breath leaves his throat; he must have misunderstood.
-W-what? You can't be serious…– He whispers. The other's gaze doesn't falter -. You have to help me! – He shouts – I am turning mad! I don't know what I could do if I did! -, he grew desperate, covering a half of his face -. Just look at the girl we are vaguely chasing after! She turned mad - she killed a child, and my friend, and…! -; a single tear of frustration streaks down his face as he frowns, and he notices, to his despair, just how everything that happened is affecting him.
'Does she feel the same at night when dream finds her?' he asks himself 'Probably not.'
He takes a second to calm down, sighing.
-I'm sorry – He says as he turns to the door -. I shouldn't have bothered you with this. It is my problem and mine alone.
Kaito stared at the floor after he left, trying to find the reason behind those words, but he wasn't able to mind, he really didn't want to… and that frightened him as he thought of the boy's stance as he left.
Something was rotten – he shivered, but the back of his mind insisted it wasn't because of the cold. It was fear -, the only reason that made sense, was that… fear consumed him. He sighed in resignation – irritated at his own mind: his idiocy told him he had to be scared of something he could not control.
His surroundings were frightening to see and an insult to his nose – a bother for his stomach, and that made him angry and afraid… and that made him mad, and thus, he became scared of his limits. He would have lost his composure, hadn't Yuma – one of the remaining soldiers – approached him.
-I'm sorry – He said, patting him on the back. Len nodded, pretending for a vague second he had acknowledged him. Yuma turned around and left… Hours passed and Len was left alone with a vision that years ago would have given him nightmares.
He searched through the pile of bodies in front him – all too innocent; all too young -, looking for the one under his command. He couldn't find him.
"Why did you leave him alone?" he asked himself, a growl escaping the back of his throat as he hissed, angry at his own mistakes – he wasn't one to mourn… but they were children. Younger than he ever was when he arrived, younger than when he was taken –, saved, even.
He was thankful for that, but he still wondered: Why him? They never told him and he wondered even after all the years he had served them.
He had been afraid of asking anything since he spoke about his nightmares with Master Kaito. He was afraid they had lied to him – taken as a fool – lied from the very moment they took him from the Orphanage. He feared the lies behind the Organization.
But there was one sole thing he feared the most… he was afraid he might be an experiment like the mad girl – made only to hate, kill and destroy. Maybe he was, and that worried him. He feared he wouldn't be able difference right from the wrong; black from white – his Organization from the other… himself from the girl.
His head ached, he held the bridge of his nose, trying – with no result, to ease the stinging headache. He touched the eye patch, and traced the scar that crossed his face remembering hers – bandages over her left eye, blonde hair, a bloodshot, crazy, red eye that reminded him of death and some sense of twisted innocence… it was weird to think that; but her eye brought him some kind of comfort, and he wasn't sure why.
He was afraid of finding out, anyway.