Crossed and Damned
Prelude
He hated it.
Every stinking, horrible, rotten moment of it.
He hated funerals.
It was so hard to believe that little Hilde, Hildey-chan, could be asleep one moment and deathly still the next.
He'd never found himself needing laughter more than he did the final, quavering moment when she descended into the soil.
So he wondered as he stared at the silvery reflection gazing back at him, why didn't he cry? It hurts so much that it doesn't hurt at all…
Pale, flickering moonlight creeped shyly into the bedroom he was in, sitting on the edge of Hilde's small bed, his long legs crossed underneath him.
He'd wanted a family ever since he had learned what a family was. Sister Helen and Father Maxwell, along with the rest of the Maxwell church, had given him one for a precious while. But they had left, just like Hilde.
"Stress," the doctor had said. She'd died from too much stress. Blood pressure skyrocketed. Her body couldn't take it.
He personally thought it was a load of bull. Caught up in his misery, he had averted his eyes from his mirror image and now he returned the gaze, struck by the lost-looking man that looked like nothing more than a child.
Even his reflection was tainted. Absently scrubbing his hands harshly against the rough cloth of his pants, he tried to dispel the images, so violent and all because of him…Shinigami.
When, he wondered longingly, did I lose my innocence? Blood spilled at his hands, pleading cries ignored. Sometimes, he felt as if he truly *was* the God of Death. Nothing about him wasn't tainted. Hell, he thought with a bitter smile, I'm not even a virgin.
Distantly, as he sat cross-legged on the bedspread, tears glimmering in his eyes, Duo Maxwell, Gundam pilot 02, Shinigami, wondered if maybe, just maybe, there was the chance that there was someone out there who felt just like him. Lost, alone, unneeded. And he wondered if he would ever find that person.
Prelude
He hated it.
Every stinking, horrible, rotten moment of it.
He hated funerals.
It was so hard to believe that little Hilde, Hildey-chan, could be asleep one moment and deathly still the next.
He'd never found himself needing laughter more than he did the final, quavering moment when she descended into the soil.
So he wondered as he stared at the silvery reflection gazing back at him, why didn't he cry? It hurts so much that it doesn't hurt at all…
Pale, flickering moonlight creeped shyly into the bedroom he was in, sitting on the edge of Hilde's small bed, his long legs crossed underneath him.
He'd wanted a family ever since he had learned what a family was. Sister Helen and Father Maxwell, along with the rest of the Maxwell church, had given him one for a precious while. But they had left, just like Hilde.
"Stress," the doctor had said. She'd died from too much stress. Blood pressure skyrocketed. Her body couldn't take it.
He personally thought it was a load of bull. Caught up in his misery, he had averted his eyes from his mirror image and now he returned the gaze, struck by the lost-looking man that looked like nothing more than a child.
Even his reflection was tainted. Absently scrubbing his hands harshly against the rough cloth of his pants, he tried to dispel the images, so violent and all because of him…Shinigami.
When, he wondered longingly, did I lose my innocence? Blood spilled at his hands, pleading cries ignored. Sometimes, he felt as if he truly *was* the God of Death. Nothing about him wasn't tainted. Hell, he thought with a bitter smile, I'm not even a virgin.
Distantly, as he sat cross-legged on the bedspread, tears glimmering in his eyes, Duo Maxwell, Gundam pilot 02, Shinigami, wondered if maybe, just maybe, there was the chance that there was someone out there who felt just like him. Lost, alone, unneeded. And he wondered if he would ever find that person.