Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji
XLVI.
Ravenna faltered through the soggy snow of London's quiet alleys. Her eyes seemed to follow thoughts, invisible to the others because everything she did was walk absently, step after step.
Sometimes she tripped, her feet couldn't hold her upright and she hadn't the will to continue. But something made its way through her every time she felt the urge to drop on the ground, her wistful eyes became focused and lit up like, a spark of an ailing person who is just about to die.
Focusing, however, required all her strength. Focusing brought her back to reality and she forced herself to stay there, to step carefully, to be aware of the citizens walking around her, without having to run into someone and apologizing for her absence of mind afterwards. And of course, the physical pain in her body.
The reality was distracting in the way she needed at the moment.
The streets were covered in mud and snow and moving through all this was a downright challenge for the walkers. Here and there a carriage hurried in an unknown direction, carelessly spattering the passers-by with slush every time the wheels sunk into a random hollow on the road.
Laborers with tired faces and worn out clothes - the only people who Ravenna saw on her way - hastened to get to work in time.
Poverty. It was soaked up to the core of this city. Distinguished so clearly, like Melpomene and Thalia*, London was divided in two - amusement and suffering. The aristocrats, whose wealth was mostly not theirs by right, had nothing important to do and spent their time in entertainment, gossips, and not so productive activities.
The same people who hastened through the streets with their fancy carriages, the curtains loose in order to prevent direct contact with the outside world, the one filled with suffering. The world behind their curtains was a tragedy.
The laborers, moving in ghastly silence as if they have conspired with one another, were the luckiest. They had a job, a grain of hope that they'll have a dinner tonight, if not for them, at least for their children.
The rest, hiding in the shadows, were left to the mercy of fate and they knew it was not in their favor. Ravenna walked up the Seymour Street, instead of continuing on the broad Oxford Street, tired of the annoying sound of rumbling wheels and soon it faded away.
Replaced by the quiet whispering, typical for the smaller streets, not that empty of presence. Hands spread to her in mournful entreaty, but she had nothing to give.
Beggars were the breathing part of London's streets and buildings and Ravenna lived not through a single day without helping one. Their misery was her misery and she knew that if she doesn't help, she wasn't going to be at peace.
The more so that her deep empathy didn't allow her to pass through these poor and hungry people carelessly. Now, Ravenna walked by them and shook her head, announcing with pain in her heart that she had nothing to give. It was the bare truth.
She had only her clothes on. It was the first time in her life, having nothing but her empty hands. The devastation inside showed her that there was nothing left in her. Empty of feelings, empty of tears, empty of any kind of determination.
Ravenna saw her place next to these people. But what was she supposed to beg for? Mercy?
Wasn't her family enough? Wasn't her suffering for them enough? Was it so wrong loving someone that everyone dear to her was taken away? Why? It was probably her fault... all of it.
All she wanted was an explanation. She looked up.
The weather was chilly and somehow languorous. The skies were dark and... silver though it has stopped snowing for a while. Ravenna shifted her gaze as if stung painfully and nearly tripped again, this time, a woman who happened to be nearby grabbed her harshly in order to help her not to fall.
"Watch your step!" The woman murmured with irritation.
"I'm very sorry." Ravenna responded instinctively and met the eyes of a rather old woman, seemingly poor, judging from her discolored dress and coat, once probably with the nuance of purple. A pair of angry light green eyes fixed on her for a second and then the woman turned away and continued in the opposite way.
Ravenna exhaled sharply.
Was she going insane? Or the whole world was against her.
Ravenna hastened to swallow back the lump in her throat and wrapped herself up, striding ahead.
Everything but him. Was that the explanation she received? You'll have everything but him.
Fine. Then she wanted to die. At least, she felt like it. Did she get what she wanted? No. She remained alive. What for?
What for?!
A fit of laughter at the far side of the streets ceased her thoughts and she raised her head to see a group of gentlemen, apparently just intending to enter the public institution, she didn't see what was the building representing. It seems they talked about something rather amusing.
Ravenna had no choice but to cross their way. Crossing without making an impression was practically impossible and she knew it. She was, after all, barely dressed and that coat was hardly covering her knees.
"Look at that, gentlemen! A fine bit of skirt." One of them announced, but Ravenna kept walking, eyes down.
"You haven't changed at all, Samuel." Another one intervened." Leave the girl alone."
"Would you like to come with me inside, love?" The first voice inquired alluring. "Of course, if you don't think that walking in with me would destroy your reputation."
Ringing laughter followed the striking jest and Ravenna stopped in place, her heart shrinking at another memory.
She turned to the men, but saw that they were almost in the building, except one of them, half turned to Ravenna. Meeting her eyes, he didn't seem to be in a hurry, because what he did next was nearing her slowly.
"Please excuse my brother, he has no manners." The man stepped to her with a half-smile and bowed slightly. "Do you need any help, miss?"
He seemed to belong to that same aristocracy she observed minutes ago. The same aristocracy that threw mud at the poor and helpless ones with their fancy carriages. His shirt was so faultlessly white and his tie so neatly tucked into the line of the collar that Ravenna felt a sudden urge to rip that matter, or... to make it dirty.
It was a cruel thought, but she still wanted to do it. Just because she was sure that this young man, as much as he was polite and nice now, was going to be corrupted. Sooner or later he was going to become ruthless and selfish. That was what money made out of humans.
"No... no." Ravenna shook her head.
"Are you sure, miss?" He offered again.
"I'm almost home. It's... three crossings away." Ravenna assured him. " Thank you, sir."
"Oh..." He replied with an obvious doubt that she had an actual home.
"Venille Estate." Ravenna snapped, loosening the anger she held by now. " But you and your uneducated brother probably haven't heard of it."
The man startled at her words.
"I'm sorry... There was no way we'd know..." He tried to apologize but was cut off her quickly.
"Oh, really? Because my clothes aren't as fancy as yours, right?" Ravenna scanned him from head to toe.
He remained silent, peering into her eyes that were now blurring.
"Thank you, sir." Ravenna's voice was hollow. "For offering me help. Have a great day."
She turned and didn't turn back, until reaching the estate.
Ravenna slammed the door and trembled. The air seemed even colder inside the house. It was more silent than ever.
She headed to the bathroom, filled a small washtub with boiling water and went to search for a needle in of the kitchen drawers, where her mother usually kept all the small things she thought could be easily lost.
Thread of catgut. She was relieved to find a bit, rolled in a small orb. This kind of thread was usually used in stitching wounds and despite she doubted having such thing in her house, the medical drawer of the family had everything she ever searched for. Unfortunately, there was no one to keep it abundant with basic things now. It was up to her since she was the only one left in this house.
Although her hands were shaking, she still managed to pass the thread through the eye of the needle and leave it in the boiling water for a while.
Ravenna tore the matter of the dress, where it was obstructing her view the wound. It wasn't as bad as she thought it was, but still it hurt quite a lot.
She dipped a clean clout into the water and passed through the cut, wincing. Once the mud was scrubbed out of her leg, she took the disinfected needle and leaned on the edge of the bathtub with a sigh.
Ravenna plunged the needle into her skin and the pain struck her sharply. The color of her face disappeared. She squeezed the needle harder, feeling that she'd follow the inner desire to wrest it out of her skin and put it back in the cupboard, where she found it.
But she clenched her teeth and pulled the thread sharply in anger. If he could endure the pain of hundred stitches, she had to endure not less. The pain was not going to stop her.
She kept with the interrupted seam, her skin was getting redder with every sharp movement of her steady hand.
He was pretending, that bastard. Pretending not to feel pain. It didn't matter how many stitches you have, every new one hurt as bad as the rest. He deceived her that it didn't hurt him when she sewed his skin. Instead, he was focused on her. He kept his eyes on her.
Ravenna smoothed back her hair, trying to get it off her eyes. She raised her head, her gaze narrowed at the scissor in front of the small mirror, on the other side of the bathroom.
Her hair had grown to her shoulders, she noticed that just now. Three months, the last thing she thought about was her hair. These bloody locks, she despised them anyway... Perhaps she had to cut everything, the only way that stupid violet color of her hair wasn't going to remind her of everything she wanted to forget.
Pain spared no one. She was sticking the needle in her skin fiercely, just like she did with his skin. She wanted to scream but instead, bit her lips to blood. It was the only way to punish herself. Grief was not an excuse to hurt someone. But it was, to hurt herself.
Teardrops fell down her cheek and on her dress. But she kept stitching, through blurred eyes.
It was all unfair. Unfair as hell. Who was he to seize her heart so lightly? She, the one who promised to herself to not love anyone. The one who saw the cuts on the throats of her brothers and the carved-up bodies of her mother and father.
The wound was sore due to her harsh sewing, but she was almost done anyways.
After filling the bathtub, she entered it, without taking off her dress and enveloped her legs. At least, the warm water relaxed her body from the coldness.
Her heart wasn't supposed to be seized so lightly. But maybe it wasn't up to her. She felt a closeness with a being who had been through the same amount of pain as her. Maybe trusting each other wasn't the right thing to do, after all.
Not sure if it was the same to both of them, but it wasn't just closeness, they were like two puzzle pieces, fitting perfectly and it hurt for her being apart from him. The thought of him dead was crushing and she didn't want to believe it.
She wondered where he is right now... Was he alone? Did he think about her, did he feel something at all...
Ravenna cupped her face in hands.
Oh, she wanted to see him so bad. She had so much to say and so much to show and couldn't care less if he loves her like she does. It didn't matter, all she wanted from him was to be safe.
Sure it hurt to think that he didn't care for her, but it was a possibility too. It was always hard to figure him out for her spoke rarely and almost never directly. But whatever he had in his mind, it didn't leave it.
And all that was left for her to do was wait. For she never claimed to be a saint, never thought she was righteous or deserved something better than the anyone else, but there was one virtue she knew she was blessed with and that was patience.
She was going to wait until the end of times. Even if their end came with the one whom she waited.
*Ancient Greek Muses of Tragedy and Comedy
Thank you for reading, once again! Hope you like it.
