Chapter 11
Mary was proceeding on the cobbled pavement, holding her little brother's hand and making sure he didn't stumble; from time to time she would touch with her fingers the leaves of the rose bushes not yet blossomed and look beyond the hedges, rising on her toes in an attempt to glimpse at her mother's candid hair.
After ten minutes of wandering, she had sat on the grass, without caring about the slightest humidity to stain her chequered blue dress; Mark had sat next to her, leaning his head on her shoulder, and caressing her hand, murmuring random words, for the pure pleasure of pronouncing them and tasting their sound. Her sister's dark and lively eyes had shifted from the clear sky to the colourful cobbles; bored, she had huffed and murmured there was nothing interesting, and had shooed some butterflies from her hair.
- Aneki...
- Mh? What is it?
- I hear them...
Mary had looked around their surroundings for a second time and had seen them, hidden at the foot of a bush a few metres from them; the little sister had held her twin tight, whispering gently to comfort him, promising that they wouldn't hurt him.
She had heard the ladies dressed in long black dresses and laced aprons muttering; they were watching them secretly and the little girl, despite being a little younger than three years old, had realized that their stares weren't kind and probably they were... what did her father used to say, about the ladies living along the street? Lossiping? Bossiping?
- ... Gossiping? – Mark had whispered, pronouncing the word carefully and rubbing his hands on his lifeless eyes, sleepy; his sister had smiled and nodded, rubbing her head against his in an affectionate gesture. Then, she had heard them say:
- I've been watching them since this morning; that little girl keeps on staring at the void and speaks to herself! Unless sfe's one of those people able to see ghosts...
- Nonsense!
- If you take into account who we serve, it isn't a hasty theory...
- A vampire is a thing, a ghost another! That little girl is retarded...
What is "retarded"? And those weren't ghosts, they were sprites... and there were also the little butterflies... and I'm still here, she thought, shooing some of the latter from her face and scolding them, annoyed. The women, still staring at her, had resumed their chatting about the scene they had just witnessed.
Don't those ladies see them? Huff... Mummy says they exist, Dad doesn't say anything because he doesn't see them, but he knows I'm not lying...
- The brother is blind, poor child, but he also isn't normal... he says he hears so many voices, so many noises! - one of the waiters had added in the meantime.
- Aneki.
Mark had clung to her, whining, but not because of those gossips: the hidden creatures perceived by his ears and his sister's eyes had approached them a little, curious and at the same time threatening.
- Everything is alright. It's alright... - the twin had embraced him even tighter and she had glared heavily at those beings who were later attacked by the butterflies that were always accompanying her.
Those butterflies that nobody could see. Those strange creatures, those bright shadows, those fun sprites and those bizarre, little beings resembling mice: none of these were visible at others; but Mark, blind, could hear their voices, their movements, their groans.
Maybe we're not really normal?
Mary had stood up, looking hard: where was mother? They couldn't stay there any longer, and Mark was beginning to give signs of drowsiness. And she had that strange, sad and unbearable feeling of emptiness in her chest...
Mr Flyer had been distracted for just a second, examining the lush strawberry plants growing beneath the hydrangeas delimiting the path beside the river. It had been just that moment, and Mark had slipped into the water, followed by his sister's cry who had run straight ahead to grab his hand, falling in the creek herself.
His wife would have never forgiven him for this...
He had run along the shore as quickly as possible, seeing from time to time their hands coming out among the water, until he had turned to cross a thick trunk and dive.
He had been able to grab them just in time and after ten minutes between holding their head over the water's surface and bearing his children's shrieks, they had finally managed to get on solid ground. There was his wife, waiting for them with a furious face, and he had swallowed and sighed, while remaining impassive.
The spouses had withdrawn, after making sure the twins were fine, to discuss (the husband to tolerate her lecture); Mary and Mark were holding hands, soaked and out of breath, still a bit scared but also confused.
- Aneki...
- Mh. The butterflies stayed out of the water... they could have saved us! - the little girl had said, squeezing her hair to remove excess water; her little brother had opened his hand and asked her what he had picked up.
Mary had looked at the object carefully, wondering why her brother, blind, had risked his life to grab something he had heard calling him.
- It looks like a pendant... a little ruined – she had said, staring at the rusted object - Throw it away, aniki, there's a bad sprite in it... they pull bad pranks.
Mark had obeyed, disappointed.
The parents had approached them a few minutes later and their father had picked them up in his arms, though they already had been more than five year old; the mother had approached them, kissing them on their foreheads and caressing their rosy cheeks.
Mary knew immediately that something was not right. There was a worried hint in her mother's expression, despite her smile; but her opaque aquamarine eyes weren't lying. She had confirmed this impression when her mother had closed her mouth after opening it, caressing her own white curls, nervous.
Her husband had sighed.
- Mummy must leave... She has to check a few things for your sake... And it'll take a long time. But she'll try to visit you every now, so don't despair.
Mark had swung his arms, murmuring unwilling words; his mother had embraced him, trying to reassure him, then turned her eyes to the little girl, silently glaring at her.
The woman had bitten her lips, regretful.
Mary had curled her lips, vexed.
Mum is doing this for us, though... it's important...
- Mary, Mark... I'm sorry... I'll be back as soon as possible, okay? And I'll introduce you to your cousins...
The twins had looked at their mother walking away with fast and decisive steps, her hair waving on her back and her blue robe rustling against the grass and the blooming bushes. Mark had hidden his face in his father's neck, listening to his mother's distant attempts to suppress her sobs; Mary had seen the sky suddenly change its colour.
Their deep in thought father was already foreseeing the gossips which would spread; he knew that his wife was admired: she was well-regarded in many ways, in particular for being able to control her children's powers. Many had realized that they could have been the ones... especially his daughter: so many signs had showed that Mary could have been Izanami. And her mother had left to travel around the world (or rather the kingdoms...) looking for girls with similar traits to become Izanami: there could only be one at time.
- YUHUU~!
- THEO! Get down that streetlight immediately! And how did that idiot even get up there?! – Mr Ari had slammed a hand on his forehead, huffing: Theo Blizzard, his pupil, was swinging back and forth on the streetlight like a monkey, laughing and greeting the bystanders, who were watching some terrified, some puzzled, and others giggling.
Since he had been seven years old, Theo had been famous for his cheerfulness and fearlessness, besides being the best friend of the Flyer twins; even though he didn't reach the same level as Mary in terms of fearlessness...
- Mark, tell that idiot to get down... - the teacher had turned to the little boy, ignoring his comment "Ari-sensei, you can't say idiot", then looked to search a dark brown bob - And where the hell is your sister?!
Following the direction indicated by the child with nonchalance, the young man had rushed to the road leading to the power station; why were they in that area? Ah, right: not far from there, there was a large heath, perfect to start their lessons, being deserted and quiet.
And he had seen her wandering around the building's perimeter, with her usual curious and innocent expression.
- That... Argh! - Mr Ari had approached her with supersonic speeds before she could have entered from underneath the security nets (how could she have succeeded was a mystery), catching her and carrying her on his shoulders.
- Mary! Are you out of your mind? - he had scolded her on the way back.
The little girl had mumbled:
- There was a red shadow that wanted to make me see how the powerhouse works... it's been there for so long, so it has learned so many things...
Mr Ari had sighed, exasperated.
- I understand you like to know, but everything in due time, Mary! One day I'll take you there, okay? Going alone will do you no good! Try to get it in your head: it's dangerous.
Mary had grumbled something incomprehensible, staring at her dangling arms.
The problems had been not over yet for the teacher: once they had reached the former place, Mark was still there, impassive, and Theo was still hooked with all four his limbs at the streetlight, with his idiotic smile still on... and was pale as a corpse, and his black hair did nothing but make his white skin to stand out.
Mr Ari had cursed the day he had accepted the task of teaching the trio to control their powers.
- Theo-kun, I'll help you! - the friend had said, jumping down the teacher's shoulder, which had also paled.
- No! Mary, don't use your...
The top of the streetlight had moved and Theo had let a groan of fear out.
- Mary-chaaan - he had cried, whining with a nervous smile.
- Just wait... - the little girl had narrowed her eyes, trying to concentrate; the kid had slipped, holding on only with his hands and close to fainting.
Mary had been breaking in a cold sweat and trembling, scared. Why couldn't she do anything? The butterflies had seemed confused; they had never been asked to "take" a person, the maximum they had done until then had been to help her resume her balance when she stumbled.
Some people around were frightening; Mark had also heard malicious gossip against his sister and had controlled his tears of frustration.
Mr Ari knelt beside the little girl, realizing how the situation was going, and he had put his hands on her shoulders, strong and reassuring:
- Mary! Calm down. Have patience.
The little girl had breathed deeply, closing her eyes.
- Patience, calm and concentration.
She had reopened her eyes and had firmly stare at her friend; the butterflies had grabbed him by the wrists and slowly brought him down.
- Yes... Yes! See?, you did it! - Mr. Ari, who didn't smile very often, had smiled at her.
Mary had felt accomplished and had been embraced by Theo, in tears of relief, and Mark, joining to feel the warmth of his twin and his best friend.
And some nasty individual, in the meantime, had said:
- Thank goodness that little girl is in Ari's care! Let's hope for the best...
That sense of accomplishment had been shattered a little.
- MAAAAARYYY!
Mary slammed her head against the tree.
About eight and a half years old, she didn't have many friends at school: many kept their distances from her, too confused by her lively eyes, focused where there was no one, others didn't simply like her, others didn't get to know her.
And then there were those who didn't want to be close to Mark, that blind and too much taciturn boy, too distracted by something, and to Theo too: idiotic face.
She had exchanged some simple and peaceful chats with some female classmates, but all in all she had no real friends.
Except her: Claire Turner, that one year younger child, moved in a year before, who had been chasing her everywhere for weeks, insisting they had the same scent; about that, one day, Mr Flyer had explained them that they were both half-witches and half-demons.
It wasn't like she disliked that girl: she was just a little too much reckless (not that Mary wasn't like that too...) and there was something strange in her; there were strange, suffocating, worrying vibes around her, and there were ugly spots and scratches on her skin...
- Mary! - Claire had embraced her with force; the girl had raised her head a little to get her nose away from that red hair that would tickle her very often.
The little girl had let her go, twirling around, and had grabbed the hem of her pink dress with her hands, staring at her friend's brown eyes with her purple ones.
- Mary, do you like my new dress? Daddy gave it to me because I was a good girl...
Mary had fallen silent for a few seconds, looking closely at the expression of the little girl in front of her: there had been something bitter in her face when she had uttered the last words. Nevertheless, she had smiled:
- You're beautiful! Are we going to pick some flowers?
- No! I want to do what you like to do, not what I like! - Mary was curious, she would observe and read books; Claire was radiant, she would pick flowers and spin around.
The oldest then had began to rummage in her bag, while answering the other's questions about where her twin and Theo were; a few meters further, her friend was describing the clouds at Mark, melancholy.
- Will he ever see, Markucchi I mean? - Claire had sadly murmured; Mary had sighed and not answered, pulling out a book about the creatures inhabiting the world.
- Oooh, nice, nice! - her friend had exclaimed, browsing a few pages - Let's look at those like us, huh?
The girls had spent an hour devouring that entire volume, commenting; at one point, Mary had realized Claire's growing discomfort, especially when they were reading a part about the chances of giving births to hybrids.
- So it's rare to give birth to hybrids... – she had whispered.
- Yeah. It is impossible to create half vampires in any case! It is difficult to create half demons and half wizards... it has been docu... domen... "do-cu-men-ted" that half demon and half human hybrids are more common... And half wizards and half humans are much more widespread – Mary had repeated, reflecting - In fact, Mummy is a demon and her sister was a vampire! My grandfather was a demon, if I'm not mistaken, while my grandmother was a vampire or something...
She had stopped, noticing her friend being quiet; she had called her, puzzled.
- Mary... I... - the little girl had looked at her; it wasn't about what they were reading; it was something she wanted to reveal to her, but she was afraid to. And fear had painted her face when a male voice had called her.
They had turned and saw Mr Turner approaching them. Mary had never liked that man: too rude, too gloomy; indeed, she didn't like his wife either. The two spouses had always looked shabby, and their strong smell would make her feel dizzy...
Claire had shaken her hands, trembling.
- Claire? - confused, the dark-eyed girl had observed her; the redhead had returned her gaze with a begging one.
Please help me. Take me away.
Her father had greeted her sharply and grabbed his daughter's hand, dragging her away.
And Mary had seen both the purple bruises on Claire's calves and her terrified look.
Mark had suddenly turned, supporting with his hands Theo, who had fallen asleep on him, and listened to his sister's dubious and terrific thoughts; he had advised her not to go alone, but the girl had already stood up and ran to the pursuit.
A classmate of hers, after a brief fight with another one, had been injured with purple bruises for a few days. How had Claire gotten them? Not from the other children for sure: she was always alone, or with her, or with her parents. And when she was with her parents, she was always agitated, paling out of fear.
After ten minutes she was in front of the Turners' house's door; waiting for them to come in, she had walked around the garden, looking for a window with a gap between the curtains to see the inside.
(Un)fortunately she had found one and what she had seen... had confirmed her terrible doubts. She had immediately thought and warn his brother, in the meantime looking for a way to enter and save her friend from her father's beating and her mother's slaps, in the middle of the floor full of crushed bottles, shattered plates and pieces of wood (probably chairs, once).
Something, inside her, was shaking. Maybe anger? Hatred? She couldn't recognize that feeling because it was so intense, so much that it had overcome her discovery's shock.
She had reached the door on the back of the house and asked the butterflies to break through the door: the door had broken in two, with enough space to go in and enter the house; Mary hadn't calculated that the noise would have been heard by the two parents.
Mrs Turner had seen her and had tried to get her out, but the butterflies had pushed her to the side, allowing the girl to go to the living room and help her friend.
But how?
- Claire ...! - her voice had died in her throat. For some reason, Mr Turner had been more violent that day, and his daughter was lying on the floor gasping, her eyes half-closed, and an expression that was no longer capable of suffering; her arms had become almost black, her dress torn, blood flowing from her nose and mouth.
Mary had widened her eyes and was approaching slowly, silent. She could hear nothing; she didn't hear the aggressive screams of the man telling her to go away, unable to use his hands for the surprise of having found her in his house; she didn't hear the voice of the woman who, coming back, had approached her to grab her and bring her out, stopped by the invisible butterflies.
She sat next to her friend and slowly hold her in her arms, resting her on her lap, caressing her forehead, telling her that everything would be fine.
Claire was crying; the man had stood up and was about to kick her off.
That strange feeling that had begun to grow had cancelled all her senses; she was only able to see her friend in that state and to perceive the hatred and rage within herself. She had seen the floor getting red, scarlet drops dirtying everywhere, her and her ruined rosy dress; she had catch sight of a cut off hand falling to the ground.
Then everything blackened.
At her awakening, the ceiling of the hospital room had seemed very close. She had heard talking in the hallway and had seen black shadows staring at her from the corners of the bare, melancholy room; her eyes had turned to her left, sure there was somebody; in fact, Claire was lying asleep among the bed's blankets, bandaged and dressed appropriately.
- Ari, do you think they can turn into silver? - she recognized her father's voice, probably a few steps away from the room's door.
- Analysing the cuts on their bodies, silver traces were found. Those butterflies can become made of silver, it would seem - the teacher explained nervously, huffing - They acted on their own will, in my opinion. Mary must have felt a wide range of very strong emotions, so her powers escaped her control and the butterflies protected her... exaggeratedly.
- I see... my wife had told me about similar experiences in the past... - the other muttered, demoralized.
- I'm her teacher. I'll help her, you don't have to worry.
- Have you ever thought about how to explain her what happened? This is worrying me – Mr Flyer said, his voice getting deeper and more dry.
- Dad – they had heard the little girl's frightened and faint voice, and had reached her.
The teacher had leaned against the wall, his hands in the pockets of his pants and his eyebrows curled in a frown; her father had approached her, bending over his knees and caressing her face with a restless expression.
- Where are... Mrs and Mr... Turner? - Mary had asked, but she was already aware of the answer and tears were sliding along her pale skin - Was it... me?
The two men hadn't answered and had lowered their gaze.
Mary had thanked God for making her grow so fast, though she was only twelve; she was strong enough to venture into the thick woods (maybe she could have even thanked her eating too many sweets...) and move between huge rocks and old tree trunks. She had advanced with her heart beating fast, enthusiastic; for a few weeks she had been studying a little about parasitic plants and couldn't wait to see the Miriandola Bluetta up close.
In the meantime, she had been ignoring Anna's protests, a kohai she'd accidentally encountered before going into the woods.
- Senpai! Ari-sensei said it isn't wise to venture in here! There are too many dangerous plants! - the girl had shouted at her, holding her long blond hair in her hands and examining the path with her stone-coloured eyes; she had reached and stopped her.
- Senpai! - she had shaken her by her shoulders - There are some poisonous plants, it's danger-...
- Anna, don't worry, poisons have no effect on me... stay calm, I know what I'm doing! - she had smiled slightly at her, proceeding.
The blonde had groaned frustrated, then moved away.
Why do I care, I don't even like her! I'm just a little sorry for what happened four years ago with Claire... She saved her from those bastard parents and people still treat her unfairly! ... Aaah, who cares!, Anna had thought.
However, after only three metres she had heard that cry which would have frozen her blood every time she would recall it; thanks to her slender and agile form, she had run out of the woods and sought help, but seeing no one nearby (it had been a late afternoon when everyone was either already at home or still at work) she had headed back.
She had found her thanks to her agonizing screams, wrapped in the coils of that parasitic plant that was injecting its poison into her chest like a snake; Anna didn't know what to do, she hadn't had any cutting weapon with her, nor did she have the right powers. A sense of helplessness and despair was taking her over and her senpai's eyes widened out of pain were doing nothing but disheartening her.
She had rubbed her hands on her clothes, looking for anything, backing up and approaching, careful not to step on Miriandola Bluetta's roots; she had touched something in the pocket of her pants and had pulled out some matches. One by one she had pulled them out and lit them, throwing them on the bush, until they had started to form flames and this had begun to screech, loosening its grip on Mary's body.
Anna had quickly reached her, putting her arms under her armpits and dragged her away, panting and ignoring the girl's weak and suffering sobs.
Outside the woods she had fallen to the ground with her senpai on her legs and shook her, screaming her own sisters' names, instinctively; but if neither them nor others had heard her requests of help before, they wouldn't have heard her again.
Mary had kept shaking and screaming in her spasms and Anna was holding her head in her hands, plugging her ears, and closing her eyes not to look at her, disturbed.
At one point she had felt someone grasping her shoulders, lifting her up and, opened her eyes, she had seen Mr Ari bending on her senpai, taking her in his arms and, followed by that woman who she remembered to be called Elena, hurried towards the hospital. Then, in front of her, Theo's worried face had appeared and she had heard Mark's calming voice behind her.
Her cheeks were stained with tears and mascara; never in those eleven years of her life she had experienced a more terrifying and traumatic episode than that.
Reached the hospital, just by staying in the yard she could hear the screams of the injured girl, as surgeons were operating on her lungs to get rid of the parasite; Anna would have found out later that it had been necessary to remove the entire lung and replace it with an artificial one, making Mary's life more difficult.
Hours had passed and she had gone with Mark and Theo in the room where the girl had been admitted in, sleeping deeply.
On her cell phone, Anna had repeatedly refused her older sisters' solicitations to go home, preferring to await her schoolmate's awakening; in the meanwhile, her best friends and classmates Finn and Claire had joined, the latter almost dropping herself on Mary's figure, barely held in time by a wise and smiling Theo.
The girl had recovered the following day, saved from Claire's crushing hugs by her twin, and had been helped by Theo to sit down.
No one had stopped Anna from slapping her and Mary had touched her cheek, staring in astonishment at the blonde.
- Don't poke your nose where they can cut it off, senpai no baka! – Anna had scolded her, her hands on her hips and bossy voice.
Silence had ruled in the room, with a impassive Mark, Theo's idiotic smile and Finn holding back Claire from lynching their friend for having slapped "her" Mary.
The latter had cracked a nervous smile and had taken her hands in hers, under Anna's confused look:
- Thank you for saving me, Anna - she had smiled weakly, still stressed by the episode and the operation.
The blonde had blushed and had mumbled that she should have thanked Mr Ari and Miss Elena... then she had noticed her senpai touching her hair.
- What the he... Stop playing with my braid, you're irritating, senpai! – she had shrieked, taking back her braid and protesting against Mary's pouting face.
- Mary-senpai... watch out for your head... I told you...
Finn had been staring indifferently at the girl who had just hit her head against a very low branch, massaging her sore forehead and mumbling at her not to tell anyone about her distraction. Her friend had examined her with her blue eyes, tilting her head to the side, and told her there had been another witness, pointing her finger behind her.
Mary had become redder than Claire's hair and began to murmur incomprehensible words and break out in a sweat cold: the one who had seen her was none other than Morten, Finn's brother and the senpai who had just been entrusted with her, Mark and Theo to accompany them in the small assignments given to the youth from the age of fifteen.
- What a glorious scene I had the pleasure to see, haha - the boy said sardonically, approaching them and ruffling his sister's black hair, then brushing his blond hair and narrowing his hazel eyes - These are the disadvantages of being tall, eh!
Morten was known not only as one of the most scorbutic and susceptible among his peers, but was particularly well-known for his height, one metre and sixty centimetres for a sixteen-years-old male who had stopped growing; he was ten centimetres shorter than his kohai Mary, who was staring down at him, holding back a mocking smile.
- Oi, Cho-hime, stop looking at me from up there – had been the boy's grumpy reaction, after thirty seconds of silence and glares.
Before Mary could have ironically answered, they had heard Theo's distant screams and the resulting trembling of their surroundings; they had huffed, resigned: where there was Theo, there was an earthquake, everyone knew it.
- Not to be an asshole, but even the death of his parents hasn't chill out Baka-ouji's personality - Morten had murmured, scratching his nape and smoothing the sleeves of his leather jacket.
- If you ever had any parents, I don't think your personality would have been less quick-tempered than now - Mary had replied – Indeed, your aunt Lalla can't still forgive herself for not having educated you properly... at least Ficchan is a good girl – she had added, giving a loving caress to her friend's shoulder, who had swelled silently, exalted by the compliment.
- ... Shut up, Cho-hime.
- Meh meh.
Finn had sighed, used to that bickering, and had waved her hand to greet Anna, Claire and Mark who were approaching then, following Theo.
- And speaking of disadvantages, Mo-senpai, tell me about your nose's shape...
- SHUT UP, MARY.
- Mary-senpaaai! I really admire you! Teach me!
Mary had repeatedly hit her head against the book before being stopped by Ryan's hand (with whom she had miraculously restored her friendships a few months after they had broken up); Rose had laughed weakly, apologizing for her persistent sister who like her a lot and found every moment good enough to get close to her.
All the three of them had been in the high school's yard to discuss the assignment they had been given that morning, that was monitoring the seashore; Mary with her can of lemon tea and three thousand sheets casually stacked in her bag, among drawings, considerations and notes, Ryan with his folder containing designs as a future architect and still a little shocked by the fail mark obtained in the English test (and it was also his last year of school), Rose with the stress that had curled her platinum hair in a shaggy and inextricable form, tidied up in a kind of bun on her head.
Rose was a classmate of Morten's and a roommate; it was custom that some groups of students were to live under the same roof, managing her life's necessities by themselves: the Flyer twins, Theo, Claire, Anna, the siblings Finn and Morten and the orphan sisters Rose and Isa Mist had decided to live together. Theo had also tried to invite Ryan but he had refused, since he couldn't forgive himself for the mistake done to Mary and couldn't look Mark in his face out of shame.
And it had been on that occasion that Isa had met Mary, getting fond of her, and the latter, despite not hating her, had been desperate recently because of her excessive attachment; she also didn't appreciate all that admiration and will to make her as a model: personally, she didn't think she was a good example to follow, especially after recalling the lung accident and Claire's one...
The fourteen-year-old had just reached them, looking forward to show her senpai the results of some researches.
- Rose-senpai. Please. Tell her not to be as curious as me, she'll risk her life – Mary had murmured, tired, rubbing her nose bridge, while Ryan had snickered amused and had given her a smack on her head, affectionately. Very affectionately.
Thus wo pairs of amber eyes had met and the two sisters had stared at each other.
- Onee-chan... onegai? - Isa had looked at her with puppy eyes.
- Isa - but her sister's severity had won.
- Mary-senpaaai - the brown-haired girl had shaken her shoulders – you teach meee!
- Isacchi... lemme go... – she had replied, sour and frantic.
- Ahahahaha, Mary-chan, you can't do anything. You're too special - Rose had smiled.
Mary had blushed at that compliment while trying to stop kohai.
Rose had been kind to her and had advised her many times; appreciated and admired by almost all the students, she was a good example to follow...
- But I was wrong about her - Mary said, looking at the white ceiling of her room, lying on the bed beside Kou who had listened to everything, every now and then asking some curious questions and saying some confused or ironic comments.
There was silence for a few seconds.
- Why? - Azusa asked suddenly.
Kou and Mary made a jump that would have made fleas die of envy.
- AZUSA!
His lavender eyes looked at them questioningly.
- H-How long have you been here? - Kou asked, thinking that if he had been still a human, his heart would have probably slipped up in his throat.
- I've always been here - he said, in unison with Mary, who was expecting that answer, hand on her heart to appease the beats threatening to knock her out.
They exchanged understanding glances, until the girl started laughing, imitated by the two brothers.
They heard knocking on the door, through which Ruki came in with a scary face and Yuuma with a quite irritated one, complaining about the noise.
Being them children, the picture was adorable.
- Ruki-kun, don't get angry, it's Azusa-kun fault! – the beckoned vampire curled his lips and glared at the blond.
- By the way, it would be interesting to know what you're doing here. Do you have any explanations, kachiku? - Ruki asked, turning to her with a serious (and cute) expression, Kou answering for her.
- Nope, it was nothing, Ruki-kun! She was just telling me her past, we're finished - he said, leaving the bedroom after bidding goodnight to them. Yuuma followed him shortly after giving Mary a dirty look.
Ruki stared intensely at the girl, causing her to shiver nervously inside her immobile and impassive figure, and at last he left.
- Izanami? Neh... why... were you wrong... about Rose-san?
Mary was quiet, reflecting her eyes on his. She smiled bitterly.
- A year later, there was an attack on our city... We found out that Rose was a traitor. She had killed some adults and so many of our schoolmates... including Ryan. Then she even tried to assassinate Isa.
- Her own... sister...? - Azusa repeated, upset; je certainly would have never done such a thing to his brothers. Mary nodded, gloomy, and hugged her knees after she leaned back against the wall, her eyes on the ivory-coloured bedcover.
- I... I... I had stopped her. By doing so, however, I had killed her.
The girl hid her face in her arms and her cracked voice exhorted Azusa to let her alone: not everyone like him loved to suffer in company; even though that kind of pain, according to him, didn't seem as enjoyable as the one he inflicted on his body...
- Mary-san... thank you for... telling us... - the vampire caressed her head and wished her good night, disappearing.
After a few minutes she got up, changed, turned off the light and finally took refuge in the blankets.
And the nightmares came back to torment her, beginning with Ryan's image, that she had found suffering and dying in a school's hallway; Rose's wicked smile and the unbelieving and hurt Isa; the school partially destroyed.
That she had destroyed.
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter