Disc: I do not own KHR.
Warn: OC, minor OOC, character death(s), slight curses, fem-Tsuna, failed hurt/comfort/angst, AU.
Song used for this fanfic: "Leia" by Yuyoyuppe, feat Luka Megurine.
BRUSH
SPLAT
BRUSH
The sound of a paint brush echoed in the seemingly empty storage. Yes, storage. The painter didn't mind about the place. He only thought of his paintings.
The paintings of a long brown haired girl.
BRUSH
SPLA-T
"Hn, it ran out." He said, as he threw the empty tube randomly.
Another tube of paint was opened; he spilled the brown tube's contents onto his messy colored palette.
BRUSH
He continued to paint the unfinished masterpiece.
It was another painting of the long haired brown girl.
He painted it as careful and gentle as always, afraid he would make it as horrible as the last one.
"Done." He said, putting the brush and palette on top of the small table beside him.
The painter, Kyoya Hibari, looked at the finished painting.
It was a beautiful and breathtaking one. The girl on the painted canvas was fair skinned, had a pair of large brown warm eyes, a couple of spiky but somewhat tamed on the bottom brown locks, and a simple-yet-beautiful smile. She was surrounded by pale multicolored flowers and green leaves. It looked as if the girl was real.
Like a real life photo.
But Kyoya grunted, grabbing another new canvas and threw the beautifully painted canvas randomly. Preparing his tools for another painting.
"It wasn't enough." He grunted. "It won't be as perfect as her…" drifting from the reality into his thoughts.
"No," The sixty-six year-old man shook his head after moments later. "It will never be as perfect as her." As he began to sketch the canvas with an ore pencil.
KNOCK
KNOCK
The storage's door opened. Revealing a sixty year-old woman. She had a pale skin, big brown but now pale pair of eyes, and a whitened brown hair, carrying a tray filled with a plate of supper, a glass filled with water, and a couple of tablets of medicine.
"Kyoya, I've brought you today's supper." She said softly, placing the tray on top of a small coffee table behind the said man.
"Hn." Was his reply, still focused onto the sketch; the woman smiled but then frowned at the sight of an untouched lunch on top of the said coffee table.
"Kyoya, didn't I tell you to eat it?" she asked. And was replied with a "hn." from the man.
Sighing, she picked up the cold tray and went towards the door. But her mind was conflicted.
Between leaving him in the dusty storage all alone, without food or care, until he died and her being a freed from this forced marriage, or continued to take care of him and be the unwanted wife she is. But after forty years of their marriage, she had a little of love being made in her heart for him.
She snapped out from her thought, as she saw the new painting of the long haired girl. She picked it up. Her smile crooked when she saw it. A single tear dropped from her eyelids.
Yes, she may have loved him a little. And maybe he didn't love her at all.
But it always aches her to see her husband always obsessed with the girl in the paintings. As if her presence was the painting and the girl was his beloved wife.
Shaking her head, she wiped the tear. Dropping the painting back on its place.
"Don't forget to eat and drink your medicine, okay Kyoya?" she asked, now heading outside.
"Whatever," 'finally!' she beamed. It was the first time in forty years that his words were other than "hn". But her happiness was shattered at his next words.
"Watanabe." Ah, he called her by her maiden name. The name before she was tied into this fucking marriage. The name when she was free. The name before she was murdered by his parents.
"Okay then, I'll see you tomorrow, Kyoya." The woman, Saru Watanabe, now Saru Hibari, the unwanted wife of Kyoya Hibari, left with a strained smile. Her tears were already threatening to fall right now as she closed the door and ran towards her-their room. Sobbing and clutching her wrinkled fingers to the covers.
Had he forgotten her first name? Had he even thought of her for once in his life? Had he even remembered that they were a fucking pair of married husband and wife for more than fucking forty years!?
Her sobs continued, the sounds echoed in the empty room.
She really doesn't want to keep being unwanted. But…
"…how…?" she sobbed. "…how could I be free from these accursed chains?"
A glint of metal flashed from the corner of her right eye. It was a small kitchen knife.
"Ah…" she loosened her grip from the covers and wiped the trail of tears from her face. "I forgot to put it back in the kitchen…" taking the said knife in her hands.
The earlier thoughts flooded her head. She bit her lower lip, causing it to bleed a little. Then realized; her answer to the problem was in her small, wrinkled hands.
How about committing a suicide? No one would care if you died, and you would be free, right?
Her inner thought said with a sneer.
Free…
Her inner thought was right. No one would care if she died; even her husband.
She had no regrets.
She just wanted to be free.
Slowly, the knife went upwards to her bare neck. A faint smile appeared on her wrinkled face.
"I hope you are happy now, Yanagi Sawada."
SLASH
Now, the late Saru Hibari, the wife of Kyoya Hibari,'s lifeless body covered in her own blood. Rotting on top of the blooded covers.
And nobody even knew about it, not even her beloved husband.
To be continued
AN: Ahahaha, my second KHR fanfic. And a depressing themed, and random, one, too.
This is one part of the two-parts fanfic.
Yanagi Sawada is fem-Tsuna.
I hope this failed fanfic wont clobber your eyes because of the lack of grammar and typos.
Anyway, any feedbacks would be nice, thank you. :)
Edited: Added and corrected some words. And added the AU part. [09.08.2013]