Chapter Seven – Milo
Putting on a show is what I did best.
The fake pleasure of being someone else was never criticized, never being judged in the eyes of everyone. I had my own unique double personality, one that never fails to bring others in with my contagious smile. Though, my inviting aura was adored by some, there were a few who knew that underneath laid a scorpion ready to fight. And there was only one who understood me completely through the fake smiles and cruel judgment of my needle.
Camus of Aquarius was that person.
I stared at him, watching his peaceful expression relax under the heavy atmosphere of arguments being thrown around and fights being started randomly by others. Camus didn't care of the world around him when he disregarded the tension as a playful manner among friends that will decay in a matter of seconds.
I snorted at that. It will take a matter of hours before the Pisces and the Cancer would begin to speak to each other in a respectable manner, along with the Pegasus being able to tolerate their sarcastic remarks pertaining to his sexuality. It seemed they even managed to get Shion upset when they questioned his relationship with Dohko.
In the end, their lewd remarks began to backfire when Shun questioned their relationship. Rapidly, several denials were being thrown before they began to insult each other.
Faintly, I smiled and turned to my friend. At that instant, Camus rolled his head over to me, and his eyes opened, staring straight into mine.
"What are you looking at?"
I shook my head. "Nothing."
Camus rolled his head away with his arms crossed over his stomach. Slouched in the seat, he closed his eyes and tuned out the sounds around him. Without his armor, Camus was beyond comfortable in his daily clothes. A white, button-up shirt and black jeans were not commonly seen around the Sanctuary. However, Camus made it seem as if he wore it all the time. Unlike myself, I, sometimes, missed the cloth adorning my body. It was like my second layer of skin, and without, I felt vulnerable.
Instead, I must bear wearing a simple t-shirt I picked out along with the blue jeans. The brown boots on my feet were comfortable enough. It reminded me of my cloths golden boots, clanking with every step, but this time, the sound was muffled by light steps that distinctively reminded me of the patter of the rain.
Strange how two different things were being put together to resemble a common factor. The heavy rain did not remind me of the boots in the end. It reminded me of a shrill yell and a streak of blood flying in the air.
I began to stand up from my seat and left for a light stroll. Down the steps, toward my temple, I began to walk toward my haven with my eyes staring ahead of me at nothing in particular. I heard the faint steps of someone approaching from behind, and I knew who it was that I didn't bother to turn. When the air became engulfed with a cold breeze, the sight of snowflakes burst in front of me, an indication that my friend had come to ease my sorrows.
My steps came to a halt, standing in the middle of the stairway. Camus stopped two steps behind me, calmly waiting for a response to stir inside of me.
"Would you like to hear a story?"
His lack of response was my indication of a firm nod of his head.
The image of a mother, crying heavily in tears, burst into my head. She clawed at my face, wanting to spread her pain by inflicting injuries, but her attempts were profoundly useless. She seemed to realize that when she returned back to the corpse lying near the trunk of a tree, the sound of her mourning increasing as she patted her daughter's head close to her chest.
She kept repeating three, little words under breath, until it was burst into a high velocity, filled with hatred.
"How could you!"
Those three, little words were never forgotten and powerfully gripped my soul.
"It all started," I began, "when I was summoned to the east of Italy. There, near a small town, a specter was wandering around in the forest. I was prepared to defeat him, but instead I came across a little girl named Scarlet."
Scarlet was a bundle of radiate joy. By a single glace, her purity could be seen heavily through her blue-eyes, as her wavy, blond hair bounced in the rhythm of her jolly steps. Like an ethereal being, her presence became a lingering reminder of my youth, never having the simple pleasure of enjoying the scenery around me such as her.
At first glance, I merely thought of her as a little girl, curious of a man donning a golden cloth. But her intentions seemed beyond curiosity when her reluctance to leave me alone became obvious that she was intentionally following me. I stopped in the middle of the forest and let out a sigh.
"Why are you following me?"
She crept from behind, hands saved behind her yellow, frilled dress. With her brown, faded, old shoes drawing closer to me, she looked under my gaze, taking in my blue-eyes, and managed to smile toward the intimidating person that I was. My smile began to appear as well.
"Why are you following me?" I asked a second time, but my voice became soft, alluring her to trust me.
"I have a gift for you, Sir Milo," she spoke. Her voice bordered between excitement and nervousness. She kicked the soils of the earth with a tip of her old shoe, the dust suspending in the air and dirtying her old shoe further.
"Well, if I am receiving a gift, I must know the name of the person giving me a gift." I kneeled before her, giving her a brighter smile, as she lowered her eyes and moved her dress from side-to-side.
"My name is Scarlet," she said to me.
"Scarlet. What a beautiful name," I told her.
Blushing, she pulled out her hands from behind her and shoved in my hands a red, heart-shaped pendant, as the golden chains dangled from my palm. I looked at her curiously, my smile never wavering.
"What is this?"
"It's a gift for you," she answered.
"A gift for me," I repeated, eyeing the necklace carefully.
"Yes!" she exclaimed, hopping once as I stood on my two feet. "It's a gift so you can give my mother a big kiss!"
I chuckled, my free hand covering my mouth. "In exchange for the present, you want me to kiss your mother." I laughed some more. "What an innocent portrayal of bribery—although you hardly understand the meaning of the word." I took the indication of her hand angling to a side, and her mouth turning into a frown, as a sign of confusion.
"Well, then…" I looked at her with a playful smile. "…where is your mother so I can give her that desirable kiss she deserves?"
The girl appeared chipper at my declaration and began to walk backwards, indicating for me to follow her to her town. As I took the first step, I realized the air became grim and the intensity of my cosmos began to stir inside of me. An enemy was near. The red, shimmering nail on my right hand began to increase into a pointed curve of a deadly sting.
"Sir Milo," she called for me, appearing unsettled when my smile faded.
"Leave," I commanded. She hesitated to listen. I snapped my attention toward her in rage. "Leave!"
She began to move, taking a few steps back before she ran into the bushes behind her. Whether she left or not completely, I didn't check. The enemy was jumping from tree to tree, the shaking of the branches were an indication of his presence. The leaves began to cloud the area around me in a dance, littering in a giant circle. Soon, I saw my main opponent, sneaking from behind me where the little girl used to stand.
I swiftly ran toward the main specter, never presuming my lack of attention to the area around me would have been a sign of a heavy predicament of my future failure. I immediately launched my attack, shouting with fervor strength, "Scarlet Needle!"
The leaves began to stir, and launched toward me as weapons when mine began to aim toward the target. I took notice of the specter's attack, and swiftly flipped into the air. Suspended for a brief moment, I noticed the leaves began to attach to his body as a protective barrier. However, my scarlet needle had efficiently killed the man but the leaves still began to engulf him from head to toe before his body dispersed.
I landed on my feet, touching the ground lightly with my fingertips. Smiling in victory, I threw the cape that slithered to my shoulder behind me. The Pope would be pleased with my success. However, my eyes grew wide when I noticed the tree ahead. It had a small hole, a signature of my attack, burning slightly before it faded away. And near the tree, where leaves were falling from the branches above, was Scarlet.
She looked at me with dull, emotionless eyes. Suddenly, a trail of blood appeared on her head. I lowered my fist and began to quake in fear. As if on cue, the tree behind her burst, breaking into splinters that dropped to the ground as scattered rain. The needle in her forehead began to react, bursting internally where her brain was located, as blood oozed out of her sockets, nose and ears. Falling forward, she felled to the ground, her mouth opening slightly as more blood continued to pour out.
I stood there in shock, never comprehending what I had done before I heard a shrill shout coming from my left. I turned my eyes slowly toward the unknown woman, but I concluded that was Scarlet's mother with way she mourned for her death and looked at me with hatred. Soon, after, the rain came.
"How could you," I repeated, "is what she told me." I turned to Camus with a sorrowful smile.
"Milo, it wasn't your fault," Camus spoke at last. He lowered himself by taking one more step, inching closer to my rigid form. With a hand pressed against my shoulder, Camus comforted me with a reassuring squeeze. "It wasn't your fault."
"Why do I feel so much guilt?"
He didn't respond, but continued to squeeze my shoulder. "If you need to cry, go ahead. Let it all out."
I chuckled and shook my head. "I stopped crying a long time ago. There is no start for it now." However, I still couldn't stop the tears from slipping from the corners of my eyes.
Camus said nothing and stayed by my side, never criticizing my tears and remained supportive to my sorrow. As the tears became less, I slowly began to bury the past, wanting nothing more to forget.
And, successfully, I will over time.
Revision: 23 September 2012.
Notes: This was written entirely different from when I first wrote it. Yukitarnia has a semblance of the original piece in her interpretation, or sequel, called Scarlet.
