Love and Hate
hidoko matsumoto
09-Dec-2001 Saturday, 1:11AM (+9:00GMT)
Blue strands swirled into the wind, as if they were embracing a tide. In the background of white ice stained with red blood, those flickering blue eyes were almost radiant.
Eyes... Eyes that were dark blue, and sparkled like a summer day's sea.
Long lashes swished downwards. The smooth curve, like a mother-of-pearl, shielded the view of those lovely eyes, and that pale body remained so, like a white, frozen carcass.
Green eyes widened in incomprehension, and then brows knitted together as pink lips parted in a cry...
"Kijin!"
The landscape sparkled, but even the shine of the sea couldn't compare to Muraki's silver hair, and the glint of the dark liquid that slithered down that pale chest.
"Kijin--!"
His cries were drowned out by the shadows of the night, as the glimmering dreamscape was banished by consciousness.
It was his eyes that blinked open, and the scope of his view revealed the lavishly decorated room of the palace.
He blinked, and stared into the mirror in front of him. It wasn't him, he thought, it was the child who was locked in the dank dark room years ago, by his father... A frightened boy, although frightened wasn't exactly the right word, since there was a mixture of incomprehension and a yearning for warmth. Maybe "lost" would have made a better adjetive.
A lost boy, whose face was pale-- whose everything was pale and white. Even the skin was so white it seemed like porcelain. The only things of colour were those green eyes that seemed to scream out loneliness and hair so blonde that they were almost silver, like Muraki's...
Muraki...
Icicles stabbed his heart.
Who was the other one? He could remember, almost. But for now, all that he could recall was a dreamscape that shimmered... ...That and Muraki.
Yet somehow... Even if it was Muraki, it hadn't been entirely hate, either. This time, it was sadness. Somehow he felt as if he'd lost something important in that dream. Was it Tsuzuki? Tsuzuki was important. Yeah, whatever, he didn't like to admit it but when it came down to it all Muraki had to do was take away Tsuzuki and he wouldn't have anything but hatred left.
He'd been building on hatred, but he'd realised that there was more to his afterlife than hatred... Tsuzuki made him realise that. Tsuzuki, and the people whom they've met.
He strolled out of his bed, wondering if there was any new traps. He didn't want to visit Tsuzuki right now. Tsuzuki would think that he was only scared, and he sure wasn't, just that... That...
He lit a candle, peered out of his room, and took a step forward.
Good, he wasn't falling into a trap full of crocodiles or anything like that.
Still, it was chilly-- why was it so chilly? He didn't like extreme temperatures...
"What are you doing up so late?!" A deep voice boomed.
Hisoka turned around, shocked.
Soryuu.
Alright, Soryuu was the last person he wanted to meet.
"It... It's none of your business," His heart had frozen, and so had his demeanour.
He almost felt those eyes scrutinise him. "None of my business, cursed child? You'll bring to this world a catastrophe, and you *know* it! None of my business?"
"...." Hisoka's eyes widened as the big figure stepped into the circle that the light of his candle formed, and retreated by a step. A child was returning into his heart. It was that lost child who had no family, no friends... The child of Kurosaki, the cursed child who was destined to die.
The mature face of Soryuu was distorted with hatred, "Just because you are that idiot's friend--"
"Father... Father!" The shouts rang down the corridor, and then the pattering of footsteps were heard. "What's wrong?"
"...." Silence.
Soryuu, who had locked his gaze on Hisoka, was unflinching. Whoever appeared was but the flustered Kijin, whom, related to Soryuu by blood, had felt the change in ki of the latter.
"Oh, father..." The boy uttered, as soon as he saw the cold war between Hisoka and Soryuu. He hurried towards Hisoka's side, remembering the feat earlier in the day when Soryuu was about to kill Hisoka. He said quietly, "It's Hisoka."
"I know." Soryuu replied sternly, and turned away.
".....Father..." Kijin watched as Soryuu disappeared behind the door of his room. What was left was but the sole light of Hisoka's candle, and Hisoka's flickering gaze. As if remembering something, he smiled gently, advancing into the circle of light, "Hisoka, are you alright?"
"...Fine."
"I'm sorry about that. My father, he's a bit..." Kijin felt a chill run down his spine, and turned around to see the ghastly face of his father glaring at him with a smile that spelt danger. "Er, a very good man~~
hidoko matsumoto
09-Dec-2001 Saturday, 1:11AM (+9:00GMT)
Blue strands swirled into the wind, as if they were embracing a tide. In the background of white ice stained with red blood, those flickering blue eyes were almost radiant.
Eyes... Eyes that were dark blue, and sparkled like a summer day's sea.
Long lashes swished downwards. The smooth curve, like a mother-of-pearl, shielded the view of those lovely eyes, and that pale body remained so, like a white, frozen carcass.
Green eyes widened in incomprehension, and then brows knitted together as pink lips parted in a cry...
"Kijin!"
The landscape sparkled, but even the shine of the sea couldn't compare to Muraki's silver hair, and the glint of the dark liquid that slithered down that pale chest.
"Kijin--!"
His cries were drowned out by the shadows of the night, as the glimmering dreamscape was banished by consciousness.
It was his eyes that blinked open, and the scope of his view revealed the lavishly decorated room of the palace.
He blinked, and stared into the mirror in front of him. It wasn't him, he thought, it was the child who was locked in the dank dark room years ago, by his father... A frightened boy, although frightened wasn't exactly the right word, since there was a mixture of incomprehension and a yearning for warmth. Maybe "lost" would have made a better adjetive.
A lost boy, whose face was pale-- whose everything was pale and white. Even the skin was so white it seemed like porcelain. The only things of colour were those green eyes that seemed to scream out loneliness and hair so blonde that they were almost silver, like Muraki's...
Muraki...
Icicles stabbed his heart.
Who was the other one? He could remember, almost. But for now, all that he could recall was a dreamscape that shimmered... ...That and Muraki.
Yet somehow... Even if it was Muraki, it hadn't been entirely hate, either. This time, it was sadness. Somehow he felt as if he'd lost something important in that dream. Was it Tsuzuki? Tsuzuki was important. Yeah, whatever, he didn't like to admit it but when it came down to it all Muraki had to do was take away Tsuzuki and he wouldn't have anything but hatred left.
He'd been building on hatred, but he'd realised that there was more to his afterlife than hatred... Tsuzuki made him realise that. Tsuzuki, and the people whom they've met.
He strolled out of his bed, wondering if there was any new traps. He didn't want to visit Tsuzuki right now. Tsuzuki would think that he was only scared, and he sure wasn't, just that... That...
He lit a candle, peered out of his room, and took a step forward.
Good, he wasn't falling into a trap full of crocodiles or anything like that.
Still, it was chilly-- why was it so chilly? He didn't like extreme temperatures...
"What are you doing up so late?!" A deep voice boomed.
Hisoka turned around, shocked.
Soryuu.
Alright, Soryuu was the last person he wanted to meet.
"It... It's none of your business," His heart had frozen, and so had his demeanour.
He almost felt those eyes scrutinise him. "None of my business, cursed child? You'll bring to this world a catastrophe, and you *know* it! None of my business?"
"...." Hisoka's eyes widened as the big figure stepped into the circle that the light of his candle formed, and retreated by a step. A child was returning into his heart. It was that lost child who had no family, no friends... The child of Kurosaki, the cursed child who was destined to die.
The mature face of Soryuu was distorted with hatred, "Just because you are that idiot's friend--"
"Father... Father!" The shouts rang down the corridor, and then the pattering of footsteps were heard. "What's wrong?"
"...." Silence.
Soryuu, who had locked his gaze on Hisoka, was unflinching. Whoever appeared was but the flustered Kijin, whom, related to Soryuu by blood, had felt the change in ki of the latter.
"Oh, father..." The boy uttered, as soon as he saw the cold war between Hisoka and Soryuu. He hurried towards Hisoka's side, remembering the feat earlier in the day when Soryuu was about to kill Hisoka. He said quietly, "It's Hisoka."
"I know." Soryuu replied sternly, and turned away.
".....Father..." Kijin watched as Soryuu disappeared behind the door of his room. What was left was but the sole light of Hisoka's candle, and Hisoka's flickering gaze. As if remembering something, he smiled gently, advancing into the circle of light, "Hisoka, are you alright?"
"...Fine."
"I'm sorry about that. My father, he's a bit..." Kijin felt a chill run down his spine, and turned around to see the ghastly face of his father glaring at him with a smile that spelt danger. "Er, a very good man~~
