~12~

Memory: Apathy

The Twisted Prince Of The Worthless Kingdom

I like the perfect symmetry of lines across your body.

Which pain is worse? This is more intense, leaves marks, seems brutal. Yet give it a week and the sting will fade, the welts diminished and the memory gone. If a pain this sharp were truly to strike your heart then you might die, but I don't have access to that so I reach it through words, instead. Do those hurt as badly? Perhaps not so, not at first. But don't dismiss the shard that is a well-placed word, driven into just the right spot. It might not hurt now and it might not hurt in a week, but give me that time in-between and by the third week you'll wish you were dead. And I'll smile, because if you live or die, I don't care. Not particularly.

I can't help you. I can't help anybody anymore but what does that matter, because nobody wants to help me. Takumu, you said I'd changed; yes. Yes, I suppose I have. I have now, haven't I? Still, only you know how I was before this. Only you know what you turned me from and turned me into. These others, they're innocent and bewildered, caught and wounded by weapons not wielded in their name.

Takumu. Moritaka. Kudou. Katsuragi. Jinguuji. Nishimura. Aihara, Kondou, Honma. Whoever else needs to be punished, strengthened, weakened, broken.

You all hold a beauty. The open nature of the human body, the absolute submission, the frightened obedience. This pain, you don't understand it, but I can wield it and make you feel something. For that, I'm jealous. Even if it's painful, even if you're hurting, you can feel.

You. 'You'. The ever-present 'you'. It meant Takumu but became 'you all', those of you who'd come to me and those of you I'd forget. So many, and I didn't care. Who are you? What of you? Those of you beneath me, tied and bound and screaming but silenced. I request this and you don't question it because I'm the leader, because even though we're not Ouran we're still powerful and I'm still powerful, don't forget that. I'll make sure you don't. I can schedule you in for Ootori's next visit if you don't believe I can.

I wonder if I ever learnt how to break a person. Those of you who broke, broke too easily. I think there was something you desired there and I think you let yourself go without challenge. Some people wish to rely on others, and I can see the attraction of this, was under the attraction of this. When I tell you what to feel and how and when to breathe, you can accept or deny that. To fight that will be difficult but to give me control is to ensure I lose interest. I want to play with you, I want to be interested, I want to find new things and learn how they work. You can't fix me but oh, I can break you.

Your eyes are beautiful, but moreso when the blindfold covers them.

Your screams are delicious, but moreso when the ballgag blocks them.

Your skin is perfect, but wouldn't it be lovely if it were marked and scarred and bleeding and broken?

All this, just to show what I can do to you, what I can leave you with. Don't you think? My pet project, don't you want to win? Can't I prove myself? I'm bored. I'm bored and nothing interests me. There's nothing I want and nobody telling me what to do. What I do in my own time is my business and for today, I think it will be you. Or you. Or you, perhaps? You've done nothing wrong, but absence makes the heart grow fonder... don't you think? Doesn't your heart ache? Doesn't your body ache? Oh, it will.

Those who broke easily were short-lived entertainment. Those who took longer gave the vague kind of interest one would afford to a distant event or gossip reported, something that sparked an interest but died soon after. But I could go back and feel those stirrings once more, that slight curiosity as I'd observe your appeal. Let me hurt you and see how you react. Push you further and see what you do. Oh, you're resisting? Here, let's go further. Further still. Is this far enough? No, no it's not. I like that of you, Jinguuji. You have a strength these others don't. That determination, that blind faith that if you persevere then I won't win. Oh, but I will win. This little power struggle. I could let you go now, but I won't. I could let you go at any time I pleased, but why would I do that when I can see the look on your face as I tell you of Nishimura? He submits too easily, he seemed to enjoy such things. More than others, even. Doesn't that please you to know it? Isn't that interesting? Here, I'll blindfold him and let you see his reactions for yourself. I've never seen you look so broken. Maybe I don't possess that strength myself but you were different, and there's always going to be an exception to the rule.

We became a well-oiled machine. This, my Student Council... they'd obey my every question and were loyal to a fault. Moreso once those faults established themselves. Katsuragi, you'll do anything for me, won't you? Moritaka, playing with Takumu when you should be attending Kudou, how naughty. Kudou, you're always so annoyingly cheerful. What's behind that smile, beyond it? You've lost Moritaka's heart, so let me play with yours instead. Won't that be fun? I don't care for you, so I don't care if you hurt. I don't even like you that much.

In the silence, as burns cool and the blood dries, I close my eyes and wonder how far we've come, how far we've gone, how lost I've become. If this is where we led ourselves, now mixed up in this maze of hatred and apathy. If this is where you took me, Takumu. How much of this can I blame on you? If you blamed yourself for all of it then it wouldn't be enough, but is that truly the case?

Still. Too far to repent now.