Despotism
Kisaragi
Yuu
This kind of life that fills you in
With all false gratification and silent cries
Putting all the blaspheme to a Higher Power
And only can run and hide behind an invisible concealment
Dreaming to be loved
Always be.
For eternity.
I opened my eyes in the dark. Sweating cold sweats and
making my white pillow, without any black spot, drenched in something liquid,
maybe my sweats, tears, or blood... I don't know, just liquid. Sinful liquid.
I brushed my bangs out of my forehead.
I looked at the clock, it was 3 AM in the morning. Why am I
dreaming those things again? I thought I got over it. In that dream, I didn't
see anything or feel any feeling, just black, pure black. Like it's swallowing
me from behind.
And those words, about me wanting so desperately to be
loved, were written all over the blackness with thick red paint. As thick and as
red as blood.
Farfarello would be so happy to see my dream.
Brad wouldn't care.
And Nagi would never understand this...
...Insanity.
I smiled at my own tease. With no knowledge why I smiled,
and chose not to know either, I kept smiling. I am the mind reader who loves to
see people suffer because of wrack minds. I really enjoy the time in wracking
one's mind up, their fear tastes like sweet candies. Yes I am the guilty one.
Schuldich, Schuldig, Schulderich... whatever the hell it is they call me but
still, I'm Schuld. Guilt.
But what's this feeling of tiredness?
Putting away my mind that started to go away from my
control, I looked out from the window just upper side from my wet bed. The moon
shone her grace at me, without even noticing how guilty I am. She gave her grace
for free to all the people in the world without knowing, or may I say, without
cares who are those people she gave her grace onto. Sinful or sinless.
What's the use?
Changed my position in my bed, I looked away from the grace
of the moon and chose to try to sleep. But failed miserably. Gave up in trying
to get some sleep, I sensed someone touched me from the back. When I turned my
eyes to 'her' calmly, all I saw is the moon again.
She looked at me. I looked at her. Her grace was like
telling me that she felt pity for me. And I don't like it a least bit.
Go bother other sinner, moon. The only one that going to
feel uneasy because of your pity are the sinners that feel guilty because of the
sins they committed, but you can't bother me, because I don't feel like a
sinner. I know that I'm sinful, but knowing and feeling sinful are two
different things.
Smiled a wicked smile at the moon, I looked away from her
again, ignoring the thousands of grace she sent to me. Closing my eyelids, I
chose to be swallowed again the darkness.
***
"Schuldich. Wake up."
I heard someone called to me. A familiar voice. A very
familiar voice. But I don't care, I don't want to wake up, or more
specifically, can't wake up. My backbones are trembling like hell. I felt this
sudden ease to stay in the bed and kept on seeing blood. At least it's not
half as how the world can be so cruel.
"Schuldich, we have a mission to take care. I know you
listened to me all this time along. Don't act like such a baby and get your
lazy ass out of the bed. Nagi and Farfarello are all set up in the meeting
room."
After gave me his order, he walked out from my room saying
nothing. Do I hate being ordered. God knows the hell lot that Brad gave orders
to his teammates like he gave orders to some cheap whores. Say this you do this,
say that you do that, say nothing you do nothing. Hell. And I don't even want
to know why Nagi and Farfarello can cope up with him.
Jerk. Bunch of jerks. Especially Bradley Crawford, the most
jerk among the jerks.
Funny I can't hate him that much. Because I know that
he's just doing his job. He wants us to be loyal and don't go cheating on
him so we would never get a trouble with some certain Takatori. So I will not
been beaten again by stick golf or Farfarello being abandoned in his straight
jacket.
And I think I must thank him for that.
But of course my pride don't allow me to do some 'thank
you' giving, so I will not say it. But I think I will thank him by coming out
from this bloody bed now.
…And go with the damned mission.
***
A shot.
Blood. Pain. Scream. Death.
If I am an average normal man, I would run or faint now,
but since I'm not, and too far away from becoming an innocent man, all I can
do is enjoying and tasting the fear in this man.
Funny I don't feel as much as fun when I first tasted
fright. No, maybe I never enjoy it, but... what the hell, sometimes you just
have to accept things that way. No matter you like it or not, but pretending
to enjoy things can leave you unhurt.
At least, that's what my sick mind thinks.
But still, my sins couldn't be detracted anymore. Just
too much of bloody sins. Some the ones that I willingly done and some the ones
that I forcefully done.
And it really doesn't really matter.
Who cares anyway?
Tasting the last fright of this man, I smirked my own way
smirk and went back to our golden cage, eventhough that it's made of silver
and gold but still a cage. And I prefer myself being locked and forgotten in the
cage.
No one loves me. And I don't need one.
Maybe a night with the solemn moon might cheer me up today,
this is so just unlike me.
***
Undressing myself, I walked into my slumber. The pure white
bed with no stain that's going to be stained soon enough by me. Frowning onto
the moon, I rested my head on the pillow, leg tugging out from the bed.
She's giving me her grace again.
Why? I just killed a man—again today. Now he must be in
Heaven or Hell, be happy or be damned forever for all I care. Why are you
looking at me like that? Why I felt all senses in me are telling me that you
felt pity for me? I shouldn't make people feel pity on me. Not even you. Nor
everybody else.
Bathing me in her grace, she didn't tell any answer to
me. Or maybe she did but there are thousands of questions that she could
provide, so she chose not to tell me. Yeah. Maybe that's it.
Starting to feel comfortable with just that, I closed my
eyes...
***
So you feel nice and warm in this eternal lugubrious
situation?
Don't you feel sorry for yourself?
To be loved.
It's just one of your reveries, one of your egoist wishes
Nevertheless, a reverie is a reverie, not more and not less
It's a dream
A dream that you never want to wake up from
I don't need to be loved... or loving someone... I've
had enough. Love only make you suffer, make you weak. Revenge and despotism are
what make you strong. And I learnt my lesson too well.
Your heart is fraught of lucid despondency
And yet none of men's tears spilled out from your jade
orbs
While your heart is being tortured by devastation
But a smile that full of lies is the one
that rise to your burning lips
To be loved...
I'm nothing. Pure blank emptiness. There's nothing
inside me. Only guilt. Nothing else.
I'm running in this patch of never ending sorrow, with
tears on my eyes and grief on my lips. Nothing to hold on and no one to care.
There's no light in my darkened sky, there's no angel in my devil's heart.
Forever running, forever searching. Although I know that I
will never find it, but there's always a glimpse of hope in my bleeding heart.
A hope that thinner than a shred of thread. But nonetheless, still a hope.
Until the day where I'll be freed from all of these
sorrows and eternal sin...
All I can do now is run, running wildly with a mask of
smile glued on my face, remain unrevealed. I wished I could scream, just so
anybody who care enough to look back, come to me and shove his hand to me. But
then again, a wish is a wish. While a dream is a dream. Not more and not less.
An egoist side of humanity left in me.
To be loved.
-Owari-
