Chapter 5
A young woman was running, chasing after a child around a field. She was dressed in a simple short sleeved, flowing white dress. Her wolf-gray hair was tied into two braids that stubbornly stood straight up, and her long bangs covered her eyes most of the time. The child was a speck of white running around the grass. Every now and then he managed to lift and levitate himself for a few moments before landing softly on his feet.
Blue eyes watched the two play with an unusual warmth. There was something familiar in all of this… A sigh made Kaze look over to his left. Next to him sat a young teen with long red hair tied into a ponytail.
"What's wrong?" Kaze asked with a voice he didn't recognize as his own. He sounded so young! The redhead turned to look at him with crimson eyes. His slight surprise turned into an amused smirk.
"Is there anything you fail to notice?" he asked. Kaze shook his head, amused as well.
"Tell me," the black wind demanded. The boy next to him looked at the two still playing. His eyes turned slightly sad, but his smirk didn't change.
"I'm worried about ototo…" he admitted at last. "He's nearing maturity…" Something in that statement made Kaze grin and ruffle the teen's red hair.
"Well isn't that a good thing, for you?" he teased. "You've been waiting for it for a long time, right?" Those words were followed by a painful twinge in his chest. The redhead swatted away Kaze's hand and smiled back. Then the smile faded and he looked at the white-haired boy, chased by the woman.
"I'm just worried… that he'll choose someone else… or that his heart will break… because of the pressure." he whispered and glanced at the brunette. "You know about the broken heart of a Mysterian, right?" Kaze frowned.
"Nii-sama!"
Both teens turned to look at the boy that was now slung over the woman's shoulder, and the redhead started laughing.
"I'm coming, oh fair damsel in distress!" he shouted and stood up.
"I'm not a girl!" the boy retorted. Kaze bit his lip as he watched the red-haired teen run to save his brother. This feeling… this anger… it was…
Blue eyes opened, not really remembering anything of the dream. Only flashes of colors and feelings. Kaze sat up and rubbed his eyes. He felt as if he was missing something. Propping himself against a rock that had previously served as his shelter, the black wind looked up at the oddly colored sky. After a while the man of the magun huffed.
Stupid dreams…
It didn't take long before his eyes started to droop again and he was starting to doze off. This time, however, there was no trace of the warm feeling from earlier. It had been replaced by the feeling of something being wrong. And it prevented Kaze from falling asleep fully. It prevented him from breathing normally…
It was a bare white room. On one side of it was a bed. It had no cover, nor a pillow, only a white mattress. And on the bed lay a very sick looking Shiroi Kumo whose left hand was clutching a dark colored cloth.
Kumo held the cloth from Kaze against his chest as his entire body shook from a violent coughing fit. Saliva ran from the corner of his mouth and he whipped it away with the back of his hand before going limp on the bed, trying to even his breathing. He was completely loosing control over his mist that came from his mouth in small puffs.
Somehow Makenshi had managed to get back to the Gaudium, back to his room. He'd taken off his belt, cape and shirt before falling onto the mattress. Kumo licked his dry lips and whispered out for the one person he wished was there with him, like always before:
"Nii-sama…"
Soon after this he whispered another name. The cause of his condition:
"…Kaze…"
The name was accompanied by a lone tear.
Kumo was almost asleep when the door to his room opened, but the white cloud was too tired to care. All he wanted was to fall into a peaceful slumber. That was, until he was grabbed by the throat and jerked out of his bed, quite violently. Startled, the makenshi stared straight into the face of Oscha. The hand around his neck tightened.
"Did you sleep well, Lord Makenshi?" the necromantic asked. Weakly, the swordsman tried to pry Oscha's hand from his throat.
"You've been loosing strength rapidly, Makenshi," a childlike voice spoke up. It was the count. Kumo cursed his luck. "Herba told us that you've been to the passion drug plane, not so long ago…" Oscha released Makenshi, and the white swordsman fell to the floor, hitting his right shoulder painfully against the hard surface. Clenching his teeth, Kumo started to gather himself.
"Who are you bonded to?" the count asked. Kumo paused at the question before taking hold of his bed and pulling himself into a somewhat sitting position.
"You look pathetic like that…" the brat noted. "Now answer my question!" The makenshi closed his eyes and remained silent. The swordsman wasn't sure at which point he had dropped the dark cloth. But he was afraid that either of his 'visitors' would find it.
A grip on his chin forced Kumo to turn his head upwards. The hand was larger than a child's, yet it wasn't Oscha. Feeling a bit confused Kumo opened his eyes and met the count's purple glare, only inches away from him. The count had taken a grown up form.
"You will tell me before the end," he threatened in a low voice. Kumo felt himself grow cold.
The moment Oscha left the room Shiroi Kumo knew that he would end up regretting ever being born.
The guide of wonderland, Fabula, looked into her magical pearl in a mixture of sadness and anger. Even if no sounds came through the pearl, she could almost hear the makenshi cry out. What angered her most was that she could do nothing.
Fabula knew that she had to help the magun and the makenshi break the love herb's bond between them as soon as possible. She just hoped the two unlimited would be able to work it out.
Through her pearl, Fabula saw the makenshi lying on the floor. He looked almost peaceful, but the blood around him told other vice.
The count looked at the unconscious swordsman with dissatisfaction before leaving the room.
There wasn't much time left. The makenshi would die within a week by earth's timeline, and the counts actions had only helped to shorten his life span even further.
Kumo woke up some time later, but he didn't find the strength or the will to pull himself back to his so called bed. For a while he just laid still, light-green eyes staring into nothing, empty and broken. Then a smile, the smile of someone who has accepted his defeat, crept over the bloodstained lips. It didn't matter anymore. He might as well die right here, lying in his own dried blood.
Kumo let his thoughts wander back to the dream he had had, only moments earlier. He had been running on one of the green fields of Windaria, and Aura had been there, chasing him. A bit further away he had seen his brother and Kaze.
The makenshi closed his eyes. Of course he knew the truth of the dream. He knew it wasn't a dream at all, but a memory. A memory… of a time when… there had… been…
only happi-…
-ness…
…
…
…
End.
Take it or leave it. And thank KageRyuuji for giving me back my will to write on this story.
I have no idea what I'm writing. At first I was planning to make them go xxxx to xxx xxxxx, and then have Kaze xxxxxx xxxx and xxxxx the xxxxxxx and then leave it at that. But apparently this story (and my muse) had different ideas…