AN: Hey look, 2 new narrators in a row!
ICHIRU
Ichiru stared out over the uninteresting grey of the city, watching as the rain trickled pathways down the window. Idly, he reached back, playing with the bell that bound his hair into a tight, secure bun, letting the sound drip and slide over his skin like the rain outside. If it weren't for the anticipation that slithered in his belly, bubbling eagerly at the thought of his upcoming wedding, the day would have been very dull indeed. As it was, he had found nothing other than excitement to occupy the hours.
Pressing his fingertips to the cool glass, he was reminded of Lady Shizuka's cool exterior...and of the abundant snow of the Amaranthine Peaks. For a moment, his mind mulled over his soon-to-be wife, the elegant noble woman who had rescued him and cared for him as though he were a member of her own house. He supposed that now he would officially be, even though she would inherit the Kiryuu name. He was sure that her aim was only that: to take his name and magical inheritance for herself and further separate herself from the other nobles so that she would interest the kingdoms as a competitor for the throne. However... One corner of his mouth lifted in a sardonic smirk. He didn't much mind, as long as he could remain beside her, serving her until death. It was the life he chose, the same one Maria wished to spare him from. But... He folded his arms now, violet eyes unfocused as watched the rain ping off the roof beneath his window. He would not be deterred from this path, not by anyone.
Honestly, he was somewhat glad that Shizuka had sent Maria away. And although he could feel the traces of guilt worming through his heart for harboring such a feeling, the relief was stronger. He was growing weary of reminding the Hio girl that his intentions would not change. Maria could never hope to understand the profound connection that he shared with Shizuka. She had not been there to see her cousin stretch out her pale, soft hand to him or to hear the promise of salvation that she had offered. Shizuka had been the first person to acknowledge his capabilities, to encourage his growth, and to see him as more than the fading, weak shadow of his brother. He could hear her velvet rich voice even now...
"Help me, and I will give to you powers beyond your wildest dreams. The gift for magic is strong within you." Long, white fingers brushed his unruly hair back from his brow.
From that moment so long ago when he had met her, Ichiru had done everything Shizuka had asked of him, for she alone had seen his hidden strength and had given him the resources to develop it. And he, in turn, had been the one to find her, weeping beneath the dead, wintry branches of that cherry tree after her husband had died. He had seen the terrible sorrow that etched itself over her features. He had only been a boy, but he had desired only to free her from the shackles of that grief. Thus, perhaps he was the only one who understood why it had been necessary for Shizuka to kill the Kiryuus of Murasaki Village. It had been to rid herself of a sadness that would have driven her mad. And in a terrible, twisted way, he had been elated in the wake of that massacre. Elated to finally have an existence that was worthy, important...crucial, even... Closing his eyes, the scene blossomed beneath his lids with scarlet petals, the strength of the memory pulling him under.
A red haze was drifting over his field of vision, spreading outward in a shadowy stain. Where was he? The last few moments roiled blankly in his mind, unreachable. He blinked, the pressure in his head buzzing as if he was underwater. He struggled to focus, hand blurring before him into a lump of formless flesh.
The floor snapped into focus. Dark and blotchy. His gaze shot franticly around the room. He could feel eyes widen, detached from his conscious as though with a life all their own. Not his, because he was trapped within them, helplessly looking out as if from behind glass. Chest tightening, breaths painful and spiking through his lungs with debilitating force, puncturing holes in them as he inhaled, exhaled. The blotches were swimming now. Connected, like so many pieces of a puzzle.
Here, a hand, there a foot. Over there, an eye, glazed and unseeing, forever unseeing, encrusted in…
He wanted to scream.
Eyes bulging downward, an arm rolled toward him. Dismembered, seeping out into the floor. After a moment he realized he was shaking so hard that his teeth were rattling. He gripped his arms around himself, knuckles white, gasping and feeling so dizzy that he wasn't sure where the air was, where the sky or ground or his own hand.
No more, he couldn't take it. But he couldn't shut his eyes. They were glued on the horrific scene before him. Dead bodies, everywhere, soaked in blood. A few of them severed and chopped into so many pieces that he wasn't sure where the tangle of flesh ended and the sea of blood began.
And all of them alike. Silver hair. Dead eyes. The world was wriggling in and out of focus, but he was chained to it.
Even children…
Somehow, he had entered a house, one that shrieked familiarity at him. His own..? But here, too... The thought cut off along with his breath as he spun around. The world had been soaked in blood.
A figure stepped out of the shadows. Familiar, so very familiar. He knew her instantly, even covered head to toe in blood. Even with such a dreadful, gruesome expression scarring her face.
Shizuka.
For a long moment he remained as he was, unmovable, eyes fastened open but unseeing, body numb. And then, as she stretched out her hand, a ghastly smile twisting her crimson lips, he felt himself jolt to life, fingers reaching for hers.
As she led him away, her grasp gentle but firm, the horror eroded, replaced instead by a perverse joy. Because out of everyone, out of the entire village...he had been chosen. Not his brother, not his parents, no one else. Only him.
The rain smeared across the window sharpened, coming back into focus. Ichiru blinked, returning disoriented from the memory. His brows pulled together, thinking of the brother that he had lost so long ago. Zero had survived the tragedy, but... Perhaps he was dead now, killed along with the young Kuran princess. A melancholic smile touched Ichiru's lips. They were doomed to never meet again, he supposed.
If there was one consequence of the massacre that he regretted, it was that Zero had been forced to suffer. Zero had always watched over Ichiru, always given him the attention and affection that their parents had denied Ichiru. And yet... The noble passed a hand over his eyes. And yet, he hated Zero at the same time. He had hated him from the day of their birth because Zero had always been stronger, had always been the favorite son. Zero, so pure and humble and sickeningly good. Ichiru had despised his older brother, but also loved him dearly. Even now, the emotions were so entangled and conflicting in his head that he could barely make sense of them.
The sound of the door opening jerked Ichiru from his thoughts. Turning his head, he felt his heart pinch as the breathtaking beauty of Shizuka Hio entered the room. Each step she took flowed with grace and elegance. She was the paramount of nobility, a gem among common stones. Her pale complexion, full, red lips, long, straight white hair, and rose-pink eyes set her apart from the rest of the court. A winter's day in the summertime. A dream. Or, rather, his dream.
"Lady Shizuka," he greeted her, bowing deeply. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
The Hio noblewoman lifted an eyebrow at him archly. "Such formality from my groom."
Ichiru felt his cheeks heat slightly. "Well, what do you want me to say...?" he muttered.
"Hm." She smiled, approaching him with a swish of her skirts, a pastel shade of pink to offset her eyes.
"You seem happy lately," Ichiru observed.
"I admit I'm enjoying this." Her smile broadened as she neared him, expression cat-like. "It's been a while since I've played at court. ...You don't like it?"
"I don't mind..." He shrugged, indifferent. Ashgate was merely a change of pace for him. He didn't mind having a new, wider selection of books at his disposal, though he did miss some of the comforts of Sakura Hall.
Watching her carefully, Ichiru was once again struck by the impossibility of this marriage. To think that he, a Kiryuu and a commoner, would be wed to one of the most powerful nobles in the Nine Kingdoms...it was astonishing, unthinkable even. He did not understand her motivations, and neither had she explained them.
His curiosity spurred him to ask, "Why me? Why not a noble lord?"
"That would be boring," she replied easily, her shoulders raising a centimeter before falling again. "I have my reasons. I value your impudence as well as your magic."
"But you needn't marry again," he pointed out. "Your husband gave you the power to rule and you have Maria as your heir. And you loved him..." Chords of longing struck throughout his chest. She had loved her first husband as she would never, ever love him. He knew that...and still he selfishly wished to claim her for himself.
"Yes. Are you jealous?" She cocked her head to the right, regarding him with interest.
"No," he countered immediately, flushing deeply. Of course he was envious. He wanted her love, her passion, everything that she had dedicated to her husband before. He wanted to be the only person she saw, the one she missed when they were apart, the one she dreamed of at night... He knew he would never be that person, but the hope lingered.
"I could not stop myself from killing your family and your people in revenge. You hate me for that, don't you?" she asked, gaze fixated on him under her long, curled lashes.
"No," he denied sincerely, shaking his head. How could he possibly hate the woman he loved?
"Hmm...really? If that's true, you're a sinful one, too..." she trailed off bemusedly.
Shizuka reached out, fingers brushing against his cheek with something he might have mistaken for tenderness if he hadn't known better. And then, her hand continued, cupping the back of his head and pulling him towards her. His eyes widened as her lips pressed chastely against his. For a moment, his heart flailed behind his ribs, shocked and thrilled and bitter all at once.
She released him then, her finger tracing the outline of his lips as she gave a soft laugh. "You look confused. You didn't like my kiss?"
Ichiru stiffened, turning away from her and back to the window. "You don't like me, so don't mock me." He wasn't going to delude himself. He knew Shizuka did not harbor any affection for him. She was toying with him.
"I like you," she repudiated, "for the way you're so honest."
"You know that I love you," he murmured, the words provoking nearly physical pain.
"I can never return your feelings," she said, and as she uttered the words Ichiru thought she seemed almost forlorn. "Therefore, I'll give you my own flesh and blood."
It was more than Ichiru had ever dared to hope for when he was younger. And yet, somehow it was not quite enough. It would never truly be enough, not when his love for her consumed him. But... It was all he would have.
AN: Ichiru is fascinating to me. Not good, not evil, just very grey. He would be very interested to read any and all reviews ;)
