[X perspective - clarity]
When the Kamui dreamed, he dreamed of death and destruction.
He dreamed of hell, of flames and burning and frictionized torture.
When he dreamed, he dreamed of the silent, empty forever.
And even though maybe it wasn't possible, it was all perfectly clear - so clear, so echoing.
That's why, while looking over the scenic area of Japan, where people slept and dreamt and loved, he wanted to destroy it.
It wasn't really his want, but everything so annoyed him; with their whining ways of life, when they never really knew how bad it could get.
This beautiful land, which in his eyes wasn't very beautiful and wasn't very clear, was destined to be corrupted and destroyed.
By him.
So that is what he did, staining his hands with blood and ears hollow with screams.
Tokyo was always very busy.
That is where Kamui was, overlooking the busy city from the top of Tokyo Tower.
True, he was a [chi no ryuu], and the barriers should stop him from the destruction he so wanted to create, but at the moment, he was at a more or less peaceful state, drowsily counting dreams of the motion below him.
When Kamui was Fuuma, and when Fuuma and Kamui and Kotori were alive and childish and all so pretty, they would lie on their backs at twilight, looking up at the stars.
[Isn't it so pretty, Fuuma?] Kamui would giggle, the three of them interlocking hands and smiling at the warmth.
[Yes, it is. Very pretty.] Fuuma would lie and smile along too, squeezing Kamui's and Kotori's hands reassuringly.
The truth was, Fuuma could never see the bright points perfectly.
They were all so dull and hazy - was it one star or two?
Now, as Kamui, he could see everything so clearly.
So clearly, like the pain of rain falling crisply on his face.
That's why, as he surrounded himself with the normal people, disguised as an ordinary teen on the verge of adulthood, he was amazed.
The bright lights that contrasted with the darkness - they were so clear and so plain and so beautiful.
For that moment, he could hear it - silence, the blessed curse falling over him, shielding him from the cries of the earth. For that moment, no longer was he Kamui but instead he was no one, faceless and nameless and, thank the heavens, free from duty and fate.
And then it was broken, upon hearing the laughter that he could recognize from anywhere [no matter how strained or fake it was].
The laughter of Kamui.
This time, he felt free and wonderful, hearing the laughter. No matter the chains that followed.
This time, he could really see it in full clarity - soft violet eyes, whose soul reflected his.
Kamui's eyes, the warm, pretty amethyst.
This time, when he dreamed, it was hazy - but still, those eyes he could see clearly.
Lifeless but still beautiful.
-end-
[notes]
Thank you for reading through the drabble. Constructive criticism much welcomed.
I claim the rights to the word "frictionized" [haha] and apologize for any X - storyline related mistakes I may have made.
If anyone would like to request a drabble or one-shot, I am more than willing to write one for you.
Send requests to coffee_break88@yahoo.com
~ ahn-nyung