Exquisite.

The full-lipped white head of a camellia sits amidst a satin blanket of red, held in place by long, alabaster fingers. A soft tune is hummed off key, as the blossom is lovingly caressed.

The woman holding the beautiful plant admires the tender whiteness- which reminds her of someone. Someone she longs to meet again, to touch. Whom embodies the most beautiful of purities.

… And who is poorly deluded into thinking he is the winner of their little game.

A chilling laugh rings through the empty room, and a single crimson eye narrows at the flower, seeing his face and the icy blue depth of his gaze staring back at her. The sight that seems as if it could pierce through her with a single glance

How she longs to meet him again… To face the man who holds more truth than he wishes to admit, to speak with him…

...to hold her gun to his jawline and hear him beg her forgiveness in that oh-so beautiful voice of his.

Petals fly in all directions as she rips the bud into pieces with a few simple flicks of her wrists, the soft white flesh settling over her and the floor delicately, like the tears of an angel.

"Don't worry, Ren," she murmurs to the silence, rubbing a petal roughly between her thumb and forefinger and touching it to her lips, which curve into a sadistic smile.

I'll crush you.

"I'll save you soon."

.X.

Smoothly caressing the shining, perfect blade of his sword, Ren lightly rubs down the gleaming metal with a cloth, making sure of its perfection. As the weapon is nearly an extension of his arm, he prefers keeping it well-kept; if the need arises, there is every possibility he'd use it to finish off a rather unruly enemy. Being alone in HQ like this also helps give him time to think, and he cherishes every minute he has by himself.

Of course, there is the chance he'll be interrupted.

"You about done there?"

He glances up from his seated perch at the blonde smiling down at him, her long tresses falling over her shoulder like a cornsilk curtain as she leans down to examine his figure. Dressed in their standard uniform, it doesn't do justice to the rather beautiful woman. Her eyes are a kind ocean compared to his steely cobalt, and on the right side of her head sits a large red flower tucked under the edge of her cap. Immediately, he is reminded of a similar adornment along with a wicked, blood-stained smile-

"Why are you wearing that, Lily?" he ignores her question, looking back to his overly clean blade as his mouth becomes unnaturally dry.

"Hm? Oh, this?" she inquires, reaching up to remove the camellia gently. "You don't like it?"

He grunts in response. Of course she knows- she knows what that flower means, who shares its namesake. He's seen those same petals stained a deeper, richer red too many times.

Her soft laugh echoes through the empty air of the room. Everyone else long since left the building for the night- but Ren's known for staying late to take care of various tasks. No one ever asks why; but he's sure none of them want to hear of his inability to sleep soundly for more than a few hours.

"Mm, sorry, Ren," she apologizes, squeezing the flower slightly. "I figured I'd give it a try, you know? Since it seems it's come into fashion." He doesn't miss the implication behind those casually said words. "But… maybe red isn't really my color."

Retrieving a nearby chair, Lily flips it backwards and sits on it, leaning down on the top and fiddling idly with the flower he can't seem to take his eyes off of. "So, what are you still doing here so late? Don't tell me you're here just to shine up your legendary sword, Kagamine." Her voice takes on a teasing lilt.

He sighs inaudibly, leaving the blade across his lap. "I came to do some last minute work. Like always." He really doesn't mean to be so cold, but it's his automatic reaction when others try to pry into him.

Her cheerful expression falls a bit, and he feels a tinge of guilt for making her upset. Lily is a sweet girl- always taking care of everyone in their squad. Almost like the mother hen of their dysfunctional family. The girl is good at cheering up the others, keeping up morale, even when something disastrous happens- as has been the case the last few weeks.

"Mm? Anything I can help with?" There's a barely detected double meaning he nearly misses, along with- what is that? Pity? Sadness? Whatever else is hidden in her tone bothers him immensely.

"Nah, Lily." Ren musters up a half-hearted smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, hoping that it deters her from continuing. "I'm about to head home. You should too- why are you still here at this hour?"

For some reason, it works, and she brightens considerably. "Ah, I had to check on some paperwork for Shion," she fondly recalls their leader, treating him more as a dear friend than their head.

"I saw you were still around." She fidgets some more with the petals of the blossom, plucking a couple and allowing them to float gracefully to the dirtied mauve carpet, carefully locking eyes with him a second time. "...Hey, Ren. Wanna go grab a couple drinks? Since it's just us, I was-"

"Thanks, but I'll pass this time," he cuts her off before she has a chance to finish her thought, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm beat. I'm just going to go home and crash." There are many reasons he's rejecting an outing like this. One, he's seen Lily get drunk. It's not pretty. Two, drinking's never solved anything for him. If anything, it just compounds his own problems- he prefers to avoid it in general to save himself the hassle of dealing with the aftermath.

"Oh. Oh, that's okay!" Lily retreats quickly, but he knows she's hiding her disappointment as she shrugs off the declined invitation. "You're probably onto something there. I'm kind of tired myself, so… Maybe you're right. But how about tomorrow night we go? We can invite some of the others too?" Her forced attempt to gain his acceptance somehow almost makes him laugh aloud.

Instead, he allows himself to be taken off guard by her pleading and doe-eyed look, and sighs in defeat. "...We'll see, alright?" he murmurs hesitantly, simply saying it to appease her.

"Great! It'll be fun- you definitely won't regret it," she promises him with a wide grin, rising from her seat and moving it back in place, leaning down to collect the discarded petals at her feet.

Ren utters something unheard, but Lily doesn't catch on. "I look forward to it," she says exuberantly, following with a yawn. "For now, though, I'll leave you to your work, hm?" Her blue gaze flickers to his sword and back to his face.

"Yeah, thanks. Get some sleep, Lily." He gives her another small smile, feeling cool relief settle within him that she's going to let him be.

She purses her lips a moment, then nods. "Yeah… you too, Ren. Don't… Don't stay behind too late tonight okay?" It's impossible to miss the concern veiled in her happy tone.

With a wave, she sashays away from him, disappearing from the room. He looks after her a moment, a thoughtful expression written over his face. He knows she's just looking out for him, along with everyone else- but her affection for him doesn't exactly go unnoticed. He tsks to himself. She's beautiful and sweet, reminding him of a colorful bird soaring through endless blue skies. It would be so easy to fall in love with someone free and gentle like her.

Easy for someone else, perhaps. Someone who doesn't constantly have images of blood embedded in his memory- who is both excited and disgusted whenever the familiar sheen of a gun enters his vision and he hears that dark, honeyed voice laden with thinly veiled venom and sharp threats.

His gaze finds a half-hidden piece of Lily's camellia lying below him, and a frown carves into his mouth with distaste. Standing, he sheathes his sword with a fluid motion and adjusts his black coat, straightening the white cuffs of his sleeves absently. There's no way in hell he'll be able to think clearly at this point. Better to just leave and get some rest while he can- even if the idea itself is unpleasant.

Locking up the building, he gets into his car and starts up the engine, his hands tightly gripping the wheel. The drive home is automatic, pure memory as his thoughts drift off to unsavory places. Maybe he does need sleep, to escape the route he's constantly finding himself going down that always ends with her.

His house is nothing special, no larger than an apartment and incredibly clean throughout,giving off the strong impression that no one lives here in the first place. Walking in, locking the door behind him and removing his cap, he cards his fingers through his unruly mop of blonde hair and takes a deep breath, leaning back against the doorframe for a moment to think.

Deciding he's too worn out to eat anything and promising himself a big breakfast (like he ever eats in the first place, he scoffs,) he wanders down the short, bland hallway to his room, feeling that irresistible urge eating away at him even before he's entered.

The room is small, but more lived in than the rest of his living space. The bed is perfectly made in the corner, but he doesn't bother sleeping just yet, his mind on something else entirely. Instead, he turns to the far wall where a small desk sits, the only one with something to show- but not with normal decor.

Pictures upon pictures cover the beige wall, each one depicting a scene- some of long-since fought battles, some of co-workers who lost their lives- but the one thing that stands out amongst all is in each photo, it has something to do with her.

She, who summons a teasing smirk while mercilessly killing person after person as if unaffected by her own cruelty. She, who plays around with him like he's nothing but a puppet controlled by her strings.

She, who plagues his mind like an incurable illness, tainting his every thought with blood, death and insanity.

Tsubaki.

A woman who crushes any who opposes her, leaving them nothing but a reminder of whom not to cross. A woman who leaves emotional and mental scars with each white, agonizingly slash of her words, with every motion of her lithe body. Hateful chaos exudes from her very fingertips; a glance into her crimson red eye is enough to poison you from the inside out.

He leans his hands along the desk below them, scanning the pictures. There is no real reason he keeps these photographs, other than to study her- her every expression, the slightest change in her stance, the unmistakably dangerous quirk of her pert lips. There's always something in her gaze he can't place- it doesn't matter whether it's right after she's decimated their high-tech machinery or killed someone full on, to simply impassive, her eye portrays more than casual bloodlust. There is so, so much more to the beautiful, lethal Tsubaki.

He wants to explore it. Delve deep into her dark mind and find his answers there. He knows she has them, knows she is hiding it behind her unreadable iris. He wants to know everything about her that he can find. A sick, darkly blooming curiosity that has built up with his each encounter with her. He wants to tear her apart inside to find her innermost secrets. He wants to know her completely, to understand her. Maybe he'd then feel he understood himself just a tiny bit more.

Ren can't explain his actions in the least. For Tsubaki, he should only feel unbridled animosity. She is a ghost, a weapon used without hesitation by their opposing army. She isn't a person, not anymore- if she ever was.

And yet.

There is something about her, something he can't put his finger on that catches every time he's near her, exposed to her. Though not often, their every encounter is heated, a spark that reignites some long lost flame neither of them ever remember existing. There can't possibly be a chance she hasn't felt it too- but he has a feeling that neither of them truly know what it means.

It hurts him. He wishes he understood why, whenever she came near, a conflicting battle inside starts over and over again- one side wanting to rip her to pieces, to shed her blood to color the soil she's dirtied so many times before. He wants to crack her shell and see the weakness she fights so hard to hide away; to peel away the thin bandages over her eye and see if her scars match his own.

The other side has this unorthodox urge to pin her to him and force the truth from her lips with his own. He isn't sure if it's passion or lust- but he knows that it's twisted. It's destructive and fiery and in the end, it will finish with one or the other dying.

He's well aware there is no happy ending.

It's slowly driving the sanity from his mind, the most broken of emotions. Hate mixing with the possibility of passion; creating a wrongful concoction of unmistakable bloodthirst and pain.

The worst part of all, is that he knows she is somehow connected to his jigsawed past.

Reaching for a drawer below him, he slides the creaking oaken wood open. The drawer has various pens, letters, memorabilia from his few years in the service of Shion- but the most important part of all is hidden deep underneath, as not to be ruined by someone else's thin, prying fingers.

A dusty, barely colored photograph. He doesn't bother to hang this one- it's incredibly faded, but the image is still able to be seen even if a tad unclear. He's pored over it's wrinkled surface so many times, he's sure that it's ingrained in his mind's eye.

Depicted in it is two children. Their faces are smudged slightly, but he knows every inch by heart. His fingertips barely graze the outline, looking at it. He can just tell that both children- a boy and a girl- are blonde, playing happily together. However, that's all it has for him to know. No names, no dates. Nothing to ease his mind.

He wants to throw it away, but he has this inner feeling that it means something, more than it lets on- much like Tsubaki herself. He knows she's connected to these children. Whoever they are, mysterious and faded with the passage of time, means something to him.

And for that, he will pry every last secret from her throat; even if he has to cut it open to get to them.

Exhaustion settling over him like a thick cloud, he quietly puts away the picture, moving to turn off his light and fall into bed. Whenever he tries to remember anything of his past, serious fatigue washes over his entire being. He can't remember no matter how he tries, and he hates it more than anything- the feeling of helplessness, of not being able to have his past returned to him.

Only in his dreams is he allowed to pretend that he is more than a nameless shadow, with no background to his persona, nothing to call his own. He is but a husk without his core, and he will do anything it takes to get back what is rightfully his.

Tick tock. It's only a matter of time before his day comes- when he finally clashes with Tsubaki and everything is thrown into the light.

He awaits that day.

.X.

"Mm, do you see this?"

"Ah, yeah! What is that? It's so poofy- and yuck, pink."

"Heeey! It's so pretty, though! It's called a… a 'tsubaki' flower. I think… Maybe..."

"You mean you don't even know? You're so dense."

Bright sunshine filters in through thick foliage above, illuminating the children's world in brilliant shades of jade and emerald. Playing in the grass and flowers, two blondes smile as they chat. Everything is cast in an ethereal glow- a breathtaking scene. Peaceful, like the calm before a storm.

"Hey, don't move a sec."

"Huh? Why?" The girl's voice rings throughout the small, cozy area.

"Just don't." In a swift move, the boy plucks the lush flower and places it at the girl's crown, tucking it softly between her ear and her hair. "There. This looks really nice on you."

She smiles, her cheeks turning rosy pink. "You really think so?"

"Yeah," he responds, touching her hand gently and offering a heartfelt smile before jumping, something crossing his mind. "O-oh, wait, I have something for you…"

He fumbles around in his pockets a moment, while the girl looks on curiously. Letting out a noise of triumph, he tugs out a small ring. The object is thin metal, while the intricately designed flower decorating the top is vibrant yellow-green plastic.

"H-huh? That's for me?"

"Uh-huh. I got it for you. Will you put it on?"

"Y-yeah! Sure!" She picks the ring from his hands and presses it onto her finger, grinning as it easily fits her slender hand. "Awww! It's so pretty!"

Now it's the boy's turn to blush, his young face reddening considerably at her happy reaction. "I'm glad you like it. I… I got it, so that no matter what, you have something to remember me by," he tells her seriously. "Even if we get separated, hold on to it and it'll keep you safe. And someday, I'll come find you. Promise, okay?"

Her shiny blue eyes widen, then she nods vigorously. "Okay, promise! I won't forget- I'll never take it off, no matter what! But…" Her face falls for a moment. "How will you remember me, though? I'll have the ring, but what about you? I can't think of anything I can give to you…"

Sensing her distress, the older of the two ruffles her hair, giving her a blinding grin that rivals the sunlight. "Hey, I don't need anything, y'know? I'll always remember. You're my best friend, aren't you? There's not a chance I'll forget about you. I'll always come find you."

For a moment, it's as if time falls into a silent lull, nothing but the two bright expressions on the two's faces for that single, cherished moment.

But, even with the lightest of memories, the darkness eventually comes to stain unerasable black throughout it.

Rustling alerts the children to someone else's presence, and fear overtakes them both, the meadow no longer a safe haven. The visitor is unseen, but the two are panic-stricken by their presence. Pushing the girl in the other direction in his mad rush, the blonde boy yells, his voice too shrill and filled with horror and uncertainty, a cacophony of terror. "Run! Get away, hurry!"

"You have to get out of here before it's too late, Rin!"

"No!"

Bursting into a conscious state, Ren inhales deeply, his hands pressed over his eye in an attempt to calm himself, the socket of his other aching dimly with long-since familiar pain. Vaguely he can hear his phone going off on his bedside table, most likely the cause of his awakening.

That dream… Even now, it's fading fast from his memory, slipping through his grasp like sand- but he remembers. For a moment he remembers something. Not nearly enough to give him the mental relief he needs, but he could feel the tension, see the scene play out without explanation, and he was left with only-

Rin.

A girl's name, maybe? It could be just his imagination playing tricks on him and creating made up identities, but it fits her too easily to be played off as a simple coincidence. The name feels dredged up from long unexplored depths, and it has some meaning, even if unclear right now.

Knowing it will nag at the back of his thoughts for some time, he swallows to ease the dryness of his throat and reaches over to grasp his still-ringing phone, answering it roughly. "Hello?"

"Ren?" Lily's voice crackles through to him. "I've been calling you for ten minutes. Where are you?"

He glances at his bedside clock and groans. He's not even supposed to be up another hour. Lily has a bad habit of forgetting that, though. Sitting up and rubbing the bridge of his nose, he sighs. "I'm around. What's up?" He detects something in her tone he can't quite place, which he knows is never a good sign with the slightly older woman.

Her next words send chills through him. "Ren, it- it's her again. She struck our northeast border, wiped out a healthy batch of our newer models... and some of our people. How fast can you get here?"

Tsubaki. Her and her notorious mini raids. She seems almost inhuman, the way she can easily break through ranks of their finest machinery. The mess she leaves behind is never pretty, but it would be hard to say it isn't impressive.

He finds it intriguing. The ease with which she cuts through opposition- the grace she exudes when taking the head from someone's shoulders, the sheen of blood decorating her favorite dress and dripping down to color the white camellia-patterned stockings-

His mind is working overtime now. She might still be there, might even be waiting on him to show his face, ready to start another game starring the two of them as main players. Which pawn would come out on top? Which of them will win this next match? It's nearly mind-numbing, the excitement pulsing through his veins with the thought of meeting her ruthless, malicious gaze again.

It's been far too long since he's last seen her.

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

A/N: And so, the next arc starts off with one of my favorite series.

This is Unbeta'd.

Welcome to Karakuri Burst/Re:birthed, land of obsession and battles between seductive assassins and soldiers. The song series I at first liked, then came to love. I can only hope I do the series justice. I will do my best. *bows*

I really hope you like it, and happy birthday to me I guess, haha. As promised, I posted the chapter. As for when the next update will be?

pffffhahahahaaa. /sweats

I'll try to update as soon as I can. Things are going to change for me, and I can only hope that I can handle it. As for now, I really hoped y'all liked this chapter and that you'll stick around to read the rest. Reviews don't hurt for encouragement, just sayin.

Read on~

~Disclaimer~ I own only massacres and the shadowed image of a memory, nothing more. Karakuri Burst is Yamashizuku's love child.