Disclaimer: I simply just own the plot.
«Rosy Feather»
§cene of §pring
Stance.
Grip.
Arrow.
Finger.
Draw.
Aim.
Release.
She was born to shoot. Born to correct Cupid's mischief of making people suffer from unrequited love. Born to make people fall in love, without pain.
She was born to make people fall in love.
But how did this happen?
She originally planned to shoot the handsome man to make him fall for the beautiful, platinum blonde-haired woman beside him. But how did it end up like this? Why was he staring at her instead of the woman by his side?
She quickly took an arrow from her quiver. An arrow that undoes the spell.
Repeat.
It shot him but didn't seem to affect him. Still in a daze, staring mindlessly at her.
She panicked, eyes still widened at a handsome face.
This is wrong.
So, so wrong.
After all, I'm supposed to be a cupid disguised in a human form. A human that was born to make people fall in love, but is not approved to fall in love. Because that was what blinded the Cupid. That was Cupid's most destructive mistake.
But strangely,
...why did it feel so right?
Chapter 1: genesis and mysteries; unfolding of the truth at dusk
«Rosy Feather»
§cene of §pring
Her mother died of labour. Her father is alive but is living with a new family of his.
It was painful, hearing those from people. It made her feel like she was the reason why her parents separated, why her mother suffered from grief. But mostly, why her mother perished.
It made her feel like a monster. A murderer.
It made her question her existence. Her life.
It made her question the Lord.
Why was I born anyway?
If it wasn't for her, her mother would've been enjoying the beauty of life. If it wasn't for her, her mother would've been sharing smiles with someone who adores her, who loves her.
If it wasn't for her, her mother would've been... happy.
But, no. She has to be born into this world. She has to take away her mother's happiness to be able to be alive. Not only her happiness, but she also has to take her mother's life.
Why?
.
.
.
It was dusk when the laughter of children was heard from a distance. It was as if they're trying to mock her. Mock her of her loneliness, of her being, of her existence. She comprehended that she isn't someone normal at a very young age. From her extremely different appearance to the way she was, she knows that she is not like any other child. So before they attempt to leave, or to laugh at her, she vanishes immediately. She's just... tired of being left.
So, every day, she stayed in her bed. Barely leaving unless she has to use the restroom. Few tried to approach her, but she doesn't talk back, leaving the children spooked by her unusual appearance and demeanour.
She stared at the white bow and a quiver full of arrows with a barbed golden tip in her grasp.
Her pale-coloured eyebrows furrowed.
She once tried to hit a tree with it from the room's window and she turned to see people watching her with an expression on their faces as if she was crazy. That was certainly weird. But what was weirder is to see the arrow that she shot towards the tree disappear, and appear again in the quiver full of arrows, going back in its former place.
That was the time she knew something indeed was not normal about her. And somehow, to her, it served as a piece to her puzzle. Of her mystery. Of her life.
But, still, so many questions run through her sleepy mind.
And never did it cross her mind that she will be receiving all the answers the day after.
.
.
.
"Sakura-chan, someone sent you a mail!" Sister Hana, one of the sisters who were taking care of the orphanage, exclaimed, gently handing her a large mail paper.
"A-arigatō gozaimasu, sister Hana-san..." was her short, shy reply, lime-green eyes glancing at the woman with gratitude.
Her lime-green eyes were expressive, questioning, so it barely goes unnoticed by the black-haired woman, prompting her to speak further.
"A man was sent to deliver that mail. He didn't say much about it, and just told me to give it to you."
"A-ah, o-okay! But d-do you know the man's name? Or the one who wanted to give it to me?" Fingers nervously played with the hem of the dress.
"Īe, gomen, Sakura-chan. I tried to ask him but he refused to answer..."
"O-oh, I u-understand. A-arigatō gozaimasu, s-sister Hana-san."
"You're welcome," she flashed a toothful grin and retreated, leaving the pink-haired girl alone.
Sakura opened the mail, wondering, What's this?
She eyed the object with deep scrutiny. It was a blue piece of paper, folded to form into the structure of a—
"Woah, a dove!"
Who exactly gave her this? She wanted to meet the person, to learn to create these structures! It looked amazing.
Hmm, what should be inside this dove? She unfolded the origami, fold by fold.
Sakura was bombarded by a paragraph of hiragana characters; she silently read:
"A beautiful, young woman, but has the heart of a child. Many find her odd, a creature with too unusual looks to be a reality. Always have been pure, kind and honest. A string that ties her and the Father is of such immaculate, incredible strength as to be never destroyed. Unarguably, no one's so dainty sweet as she was."
At this, a frown displayed on her face. The paragraph lacks coherence that it didn't make much sense to her. But the sentences held meanings. And it was painfully obvious that it was about her. But why were there words that are italicised and letters that were boldly written, though it's unnecessary to do so?
Wait...
She hurriedly grabbed a pencil, scribbling words on a clean piece of paper. Writing the boldly written words individually, she gazed quizically upon the paper.
i m c o m i n g
I'm coming
Who's coming?
She felt a chill run down her spine, goosebumps ran through her skin. She didn't know how to react to it. Must she be spooked that someone's possibly coming after her? Or should she be happy that someone's finally coming to adopt her?
Her eyes turned to the unfolded origami lying on her bed. A heavy, shaky breath came out of her mouth. She continues.
She grabbed the pencil once again, jotting down words vertically.
child.
unusual.
pure.
immaculate.
dainty.
Stare.
child.
unusual.
pure.
immaculate.
dainty.
She stared harder.
child.
unusual.
pure.
immaculate.
dainty.
Gasp.
Quizzical looks.
Bow. Apologize.
Shake heads. Return to task.
Expanded eyes return to paper.
I'm coming—
Cupid? What?
The letter was written for her. Sent to her. It was about her. She was the "cupid".
Big lime-like eyes stared down at the porcelain bow and quiver.
Time stopped.
Realization hits.
I'm coming, Cupid.
.
.
.
"What if she didn't get it?"
"She will..."
"Really? How can you be so sure? You could've just written it directly."
A smirk made its way upon a pale face, snake-like eyes meeting black ones.
"If only you knew how excellently intelligent that child can be..."