I stared in horror, my eyes glistening and hot from the incoming sunlight, my prolonged fear come to life. Sweat consumed my body, and cooled down with panic. I felt my breathing begin to heavy, my legs feeling weak and unable to move. I stared horridly at the old body lying in front of me, its face sunlit, and the expression closed and blank. She looked so graceful, lying there so silently, like an angel that fell from the holily lit clouds of heaven. No… I thought. No angel, no angel at all. Just my dead mother.
I felt like screaming, screaming my lungs out even though I was known for my calm and serious personality.
"Why do you work so hard?" she had asked me.
"I guess….to protect you guys."
To protect you…protect you…protect… the words kept repeating in my mind like a broken record player, giving the realization of my horror and my failure. Protect her? Yeah, right. I've been so busy training myself to be capable of protecting her, I forgot the big picture at the end. And now… now it's too late. But who? Who did this?
I took a big gulp and walked up to her body. Even being around it felt cold and dreadful. I placed my fingers lightly on her neck, trying to see if what I thought was reality. Cold. Just as I thought…there's no denying it now. She was in fact, dead. I felt my legs shiver as my fingers were drawn back. It didn't feel right to touch her skin anymore. It didn't feel right at all. It was just…different. Who could've done such a thing to cause me such pain? I gritted my teeth and clenched my fist by my side. My bare nails dug deep into my skin, causing intense pain that couldn't compare to the open wound in my heart. I tilted my head downwards, feeling no energy or motivation any longer. Shadow enveloped my eyes, my clenched fist growing tighter.
I grit my teeth stronger, the pressure soon becoming overwhelming. A glistening tear that gleamed in the sunlit windows streaked down the side of my face, dangling off my chin, and finally letting go. It made a tiny, wet puddle on the Iris's blue petals, the flower of "hope" or so it was called by my feet, as limp and weak as what it represented. There was no sound to be heard from miles, not even the slight crying of the person left behind. Who…What? I couldn't even get a thought straight out. Why would someone…even think of…? Just why? I don't understand. Was it a test? Was this some kind of test? A test that I have all ready failed? Maybe it is… maybe it's just what life is. A test that everyone fails. Including me. In that case… I turned my back and forced myself to slowly walk, my footsteps shaking and unsteady, as if I were walking on moving sand.
My head still bent down, as if I were shamed, I walked away. Away from everything, everything I've ever known. I set out to start a new life, like erasing the answers on the Scantron, starting from number one. Yeah, that's what I would do. My time limit was as long as I had to live, and this time, starting from the very beginning like writing my name on the underlined top of the paper, I began writing, determined to pass with flying colors.
Four years later, I found myself in the room where most of the Minors were, sitting on that blood red sofa chair, my feelings and thoughts lurking in the past, slowly returning at the pace of a snail. My arms at the chair supporters, I slowly opened my eyes, revealing the serious, and to some scale, angry stare that I always seemed to hold, revealing my beckoning brown eyes. I sighed. Your past is coming to haunt you, Eric, I told myself. But I wonder… I tilted my head slightly to one side and peered to my open hand. A single rising flame rose from it like I was made of it, the lonely flame of grace held within the palm of my hand. The bright fire poured into my eyes, the heat beginning to surround my arm. Am I failing so far? I completed the thought. At the same time, the flame went out, dying away with a fwoosh, nothing but wisps of white smoke rising into the air, only to disappear a second later.
PoVS to Walter
To the other side of the room sat Walter, thinking to himself as well. He observed the Minor who claimed himself Kahibi Eric, giving a narrowed, concealing stare, sealing something away in secretion. What do you hide from us, Eric? Walter thought.
"Looks like your eyes haven't changed," he had told Walter back then. Well, the Water Minor thought. Looks like now, you've got the same eyes as well. The eyes that recognize and filled with acknowledgement of your own pain that you think no one else is there to understand you. Yeah… You're really something Walter thought depressingly. Conversation noise filled the room, pushed to the back of Walter's mind. The weak lights flickered above, soon becoming half dead. Walter sighed. What next?
As if on cue, right away there was a loud crashing was heard and bits of plaster and clouds of dust flew into the room wildly and suddenly, surprising everyone in its midst. A large breeze was let in, and the whole room was consumed with the non clearing haze. Walter was backed up against the opposite side of where it came from, his eyes widening slightly in surprise and preparedness.
The others were totally eaten by it, and suddenly like magic, the dust was blown away by diverging winds. In the center of it all stood Madasora with Zack's arm around his neck, his weak body being supported. His hair was caked with blood as well as his clothes. His eyes were half open and weak, looking like he would fall apart any second. It seemed hard for him to speak, and his feet would drag along the dusty grounds when supported by Madasora. Beside him stood the unharmed council with his pipe put out and his pet bird, Minasan. He smiled maniacally, his expression looking happy and frantic. "Sorry, sorry for the outburst!" he said loudly and wickedly, wearing a wide, awkward smile in a laughing forgiveness. His eyes were closed and crinkled upward, his apology quick paced. Behind them was a large hole that broke into the room, letting in a cool late night breeze in. The room's flickering light poured outside and cast shadows upon the grass. "I was in too much of a hurry to use the door," he explained, still wearing that wide grin that showed his teeth a little too much. He waved his hand in a playful manner, as if saying that it was all right and nothing out of the blue just happened. Around him, the talkative Minors stared with eccentric, wide-eyed expressions. Their mouths hung off their face in an exaggerated manner, and their bodies were limp with awe.
"I heard something crash, what happened!?" a child's voice came into the room. Everyone looked to his direction to find Jeremy standing in the room's doorway that lead to the dim hallway. The ten year old boy quickly scanned the room, and gasped when he saw the half conscious Minor. But the real surprise and shock hit him when he noticed the huge hole in the wall. His expression went completely over exaggerated, his facial features tightening up in shock. "What? The wall!!" he cried out loudly in a voice that flew outside. He began crying with playful tears with his hands gripped on the doorway's sides, as if holding them for support.
Meanwhile, Eric stared in a total chibi like expression, his face loosened with a 'what the hell?' manner.
"Hm?" Madasora mumbled, reopening his eyes, his features returning to normal. "Jeremy-san?" his voice stumbled out, seeing the satiric crying of Jeremy. "You better start healing this guy," he told the ten year old, unacknowledged of Jeremy's playful sadness.
Really… Walter thought, disapprovingly. This guy is an idiot…he piqued, half serious and half playfully.
PoVS
"Are you serious? That's amazing…!" Marissa said, holding a hot cup of tea that streamed white steam into the air. She gripped the green bamboo cup tightly listening to the story of Teresa. The warm aura of the cup made her feel cozy right away.
"Amazing? At least a hundred lives were killed at that hospital incident, all because of me! I don't find that amazing," Teresa said in a rising voice, then calming to a simmer. Her voice suddenly became shy, and she didn't know why. The dim lights gave little light for the scene below it, like a fragment of a failing piece of the sun used for the light.
"Don't stress over it too much," a voice came out of nowhere.
"Hm?" Teresa turned to find Lance, the Metal Minor looking directly at her from his place across the table. Only if you would consider "looking" as crinkled, closed and cheerful looking eyes posed directly at you, though. Teresa gave a confused stare, and blinked once. Her eyes were wide with consideration. He hadn't talked for at least an hour, and just sat there. Now he's saying something?
Lance sighed. "It's obvious you feel like you should do something about the lives you took, because you feel guilty," he explained. Teresa gave an acknowledged blink. How did he know that? Teresa thought in the corner of her mind. Lance gave a slight smirk with his lined smile. "I can tell from the effects you put on your body structure and face. Giving a solemn look while slumping your body is an obvious way of telling someone you're depressed or guilty, or filled with shame."
Teresa looked hard on the floor, a bit embarrassed.
"What's wrong with you?! Why are you getting her all worked up for?" Marissa outburst, standing up from her seat, sending the chair backward with a screech. She put her hands on the table as a sign of power, and looked hard at him with a belittling stare.
Lance finally opened his eyes and stared with cheerful eyes at Marissa, as if he were totally unbothered by the fact that she was getting fumed over him. "Sorry," he apologized.
Marissa's mean look faded away in a second, and she took a sharp and quick breath. Then, she posed a confused look on her face, and then sat back down quietly.
"He's right," Teresa mumbled out a bit reluctantly, lifting her stare a bit more upward to find Lance in her eyes. Lance stared back. Marissa gave a surprised, puzzled look. Teresa got up from her seat and began to walk away solemnly, as if a wandering phantom that lost its sense of direction. She paced back into the hallway's darkness without saying another word, her eyes watering a bit. As soon as she left, Marissa gave a hard stare at Lance, who looked right back, baffled.
"Look what you did," Marissa sighed, falling back to her seat. Lance looked down in shame and thought.
PoVS
Minoa sighed as she walked through the dark, labyrinth like corridors. She looked down as a few strands of hair fell to the front of her face. The pale, gray-white lines were like streaks of blindness blocking her eyesight. She brushed them back with one swish of her hand. It revealed eyes that were saddened and thoughtful.
"What's wrong?" Kakori said, walking side by side with her, his hands stuffed into his long robe's pockets, the stick branch still between his lips, Kakori's mouth playing with it delightfully like his own private toy. They took easy steps by, and Kakori watched Minoa as she stared hard at the dark floor as their shoes clicked on it.
"It's just…" Minoa hesitated. "It's nothing, forget I said anything," she said, looking up to try and get rid of her thoughts. Her attempts failed.
"No, tell me," Kakori insisted. "What's wrong? Maybe I can help you," he said easily.
Minoa laughed hesitantly and tiredly. "Always trying to help others from being sad, huh, Kakori?" Minoa said with a short smile, directing it at Kakori so he could see it clearly. "I bet Dylan is very much the same, always thinking of other people before himself."
Kakori widened his eyes in acknowledgement and smiled back, his grin careful as to not let go of the tree stick. Kakori chuckled under his breath and said, "Yeah, he is." He took a short breath as they turned the next corridor, finding more darkness ahead. Their shoes clicking on the plaster being the only sound heard for miles and miles into the wide, one floor "building." "But that's not important. How can I help you?"
Minoa sighed in a hesitant way and thought about it for a bit. "Well…" she began, unsure. Kakori gave an assuring smirk. "Okay, it's just… Teresa wants to learn how to use Visible Darkness –Mokushi-ankoku- because she killed lots of people by accident the first time Jeremy went after her, and wants to pay off the 'debt' she created by doing the most good she can."
"Right," Kakori followed along, looking straight ahead, paying close attention.
"She knows she has a lot of power, being that her power can be equal to the Base Elemental Powers combined, and even more than that, but she wants to learn how to use Mokushi-ankoku in order to get more power to use it for helping people." Minoa stopped to sigh and take a breath. "But activating its first stage can do some serious physical, not to mention mental damage. It can probably do so much, that the wounds can never be repaired. I just can't risk making her go through that, so I rejected to teach it to her when she asked."
"I see," Kakori said bluntly. "And I suppose you feel guilty for not teaching it to her and letting her down, when she's supposed to look up to you as a Council Counterpart?" Minoa gave a solemn, graceful nod. Kakori laughed.
"What is it? Why are you laughing?" Minoa interrogated, serious.
"Your Minor counterpart is just like you too," Kakori explained, giving a short answer as they turned another corridor.
"What?" Minoa gave a puzzled look. "What's that supposed to mean? She's just like me? How?" she asked frantically.
"She sounds like she just wants to help, but is going overboard with it all. She's taking it too far. She's one of those people who worry too much, and do too much. An over-over achiever if you will," Kakori explained, smiling for assurance. "That's the exact same reason why you're worried about her."
Minoa smiled. "It's nice to know I have a handy therapist at hand, Kakori-san," she told him. "But really," she began, stopping to take a short pause from walking. Kakori followed suit. "The only reason you asked me what I was so worried about in the first place was the exact same reason you just stated, wasn't it?"
Kakori looked at her, baffled in realization. Minoa gave a small laugh and walked away. "Good luck with Dylan," she said, running down the corridor.
Kakori smiled as she slowly became a small figure encrypted into the darkness, wisps of gray which was also known as her hair swinging from one side to the other. "Good luck with Teresa," he wished back, knowing that she heard him as she turned the corner.