Surprisingly enough, this got quite a lot of alerts and favorites! Though I really would enjoy some reviews, I think I will be continuing. For now at least. Anyway, enjoy and feel free to give suggestions or even flames if you feel like it. Thanks for reading~!
Byoki rushed back into her apartment nervously, slamming the door behind her. She fell to her knees, digging feverishly at her bed spread. How could she have left without it? Her floor-bound mattress was heaved from its place on the cement viciously. A small fragment of red ribbon lay motionless on the floor. Byoki exhaled calmly and tied the string around her ring finger in a cutesy bow. It was the only memory of her family left. The silken strip came from her sister's favorite blanket. She'd stolen it from an evidence box; it was the only one unscathed by blood. Without it Byoki was unable to leave her home for more than a few minutes. The way it felt upon her flesh was comforting; it reminded her of the most important thing she needed. Love. She was determined to find it somewhere. It was truly her inspiration to keep living and it was represented by the tiny line of red.
Once she was finished reminiscing, Byoki hurried back out the door. She stepped onto the sidewalk with apprehension; skin bristled by the chill of morning. A thin layer of smog drifted above Ikebukuro peacefully as she walked. Her footsteps were soft and quiet as she'd forgotten to put shoes on that day like many others. She had started the bad habit over ten years ago and, for some strange reason, often completely forgot shoes were in existence. Fortunately, her feet had become so callused and tough that stepping on broken glass didn't even hurt. If she happened to remember it was frowned upon to leave the house without them, Byoki would try to find a pair of sandals or socks that she normally ended up losing. This was just one of the many strange mannerisms she'd developed over the years. For such a plain looking woman, Byoki was actually very interesting. It seemed as though what she lacked in appearance, she made up for in personality.
Of course, it wasn't always that way. During the two years she spent in a mental hospital, Byoki was notorious for her severe paranoia. She claimed that the institute had taken her away from her family and that they were still alive. She hurt anyone that came too close or tried to touch her to the point of nearly killing a man. Her nightmares were sometimes so vivid she refused to leave the room and would stay up all night, staring at the wall in a distant manner. She peered so intently it was almost as though she weren't just looking at a plain white surface; it appeared that she was reliving what she'd been through. Byoki had frequent violent outbursts and threatened a guard with a knife because he looked at her wrong. She was placed in a rubber walled room more often than not, kept away from sharp things until her mind finally calmed. But instead of becoming mild again, she sunk into a deep depression.
Byoki hallucinated so lucidly that she wore a blindfold everywhere in order to ease her mind just a tiny bit. Soon after the illusions ceased, her violent streak and her depression mixed together. Things became so hectic her therapist thought she'd become bi-polar. She slowly lost her grip on the line between real and fictitious. In a final attempt to reel Byoki back to reality, her therapist ordered the police station to send the box evidence to his office.
"Byoki, there's something I'd like to show you. Alright?" an older man with piercing sapphire eyes looked at the young child in his office. She had curled her body to make a lumpy ball of flesh, spine sticking out from beneath her mint green gown jaggedly. Beneath a thick veil of curly raven hair lay two nervous eyes of vibrant gold jolted around the room as if following the trail of a nonexistent bumblebee. She shook her head sharply and burrowed deeper into the soft, velure cushions. Byoki muttered something, halfway between a hiss and a growl. Her mind had deteriorated so much the therapist had trouble looking at her. This was his last chance to tug her away from the fiery bowels of insanity. A middle aged policeman set down a hefty white box with 'Case #909' scrawled on it. There were other details sketched on it the label, but none that were able to be understood.
The mild mannered therapist reached out to Byoki and gripped her thin hand lightly. She slammed her teeth down on his fingers in a mix of anger and fear. Fortunately, a pair of leather gloves surrounded his hands and protected him from receiving anything more than a bruise. In less than a week, the child would be dubbed both sane and sociable or a danger to herself and others. Most shrinks would have given up on Byoki by now, but not him. He had never lost someone before and he wasn't about to now. The heavy feeling of doubt and apprehension hung in the air, but the therapist pressed on. Byoki mumbled a word neither here nor there and unfurled from her balled up position. She followed her counselor over to the box, slowly inspecting it before removing the top. The scent of stale blood and what used to be drifted through the thin plastic bags that covered each item.
"Alright, let's allow her some time alone." the therapist led an unsure deputy from his office. Byoki dug through the box, finding the razor blade that had ruined her wrist, the shattered mirror fragment used to shred her father's flesh, and the pillow used to cease her mother's breathing among other things. Each piece was a terrifying memory; each once beloved item recalled the sadness that darkened her heart. At the very bottom lay the only two remaining possessions of her sister, a brightly colored diary with a unicorn on the cover and a small white blanket with red bows placed randomly on it's surface. Byoki extended a shaking hand and plucked both crisp bags from their place. She opened the one containing her sibling's journal and slid her fingers over the slick cover. It fell open to the fifth page before she had a chance to declare it useless and foreign.
'Dear diary, today me and my sister got ice cream! She's so nice to me, I love her! We talked about boys all the way home. She said never to let one hit me and to tell her if one did. I don't get why, but I said I would tell her. I didn't tell her about who I like because I was scared! What if she tells someone? Well, I know she won't, but I'm not going to take any chances with other people! I hope one day he and I fall in love and have a big family with lots of babies. All I want is to have a boy love me, because love is great! If I had one wish, I'd wish for a boy to love me and for one to love my sister! I have to go now, diary! I hope you find love too!' the entry was written inked bright purple, smudged in some areas and clean in others. At the very bottom was a childish illustration of someone with extremely short black hair holding the hand of a blonde man. Tears began to spatter the page much to Byoki's confusion. She had not yet realized her eyes had swelled with salty water that dripped down her soft pale cheeks. But not from sadness or upset, from joy. Though every sickening detail made her realize that her old life was as dead as her family, a feeling of liberation rushed through her. She suddenly lost the desire to pick up her razor and slash her wrists before the therapist returned. She suddenly wanted to live again. Byoki felt a wave of realization and comfort wash over her despite the soul crushing truth she'd unearthed. It had always been there, hidden behind other repressed memories in the very back of her subconscious, but now she knew. Now she had proof.
Byoki quickly tugged the only clean ribbon off her sister's blanket, letting it sift between her digits softly. She fastened to her ring finger, recalling the old habit people had of tying ribbons around their appendages to signify something that needed to be remembered. Her sister's dream had been to find love for the both of them and an untimely death wasn't going to stop that. Even if it killed her, Byoki was going to find love. What her sister wanted was what she wanted, no matter what. Maybe finding love would finally give Byoki a sense of accomplishment. The moment she began that quest was the moment her sanity began to reform. Day by day she was able to let go of her old violently depressed persona and adopt a new carefree one. By the time her hearing came, she was able to speak clearly and mindfully. Byoki had been allowed to leave the mental hospital after six more months of grievance counseling and group help from the psych ward.
"Hey! You, pretty lady!" a set of loud cries shattered Byoki's thoughts. Someone slammed into her violently and upon further inspection, Byoki realized she'd left behind the gang-infested area her route had gone through. The pavement around her was filled with people every shape, size, age, and disposition. Some pushed and shoved to reach their destination speedily while others took on a more leisurely pace. Men in business suites and young girls in school uniforms traversed the concrete with cellular phones pressed to their ears while a bunch of shady looking boys with yellow bandanas strode through the heavily populated streets.
"Pretty girl!" the howl came again. Byoki paused for a split-second before continuing to walk. No one would ever call her a pretty, not when she looked the way she did. The only thing signifying her status as a female was a pair of nearly nonexistent breasts and a distinctly feminine face. Someone went shooting by so quickly it knocked Byoki onto the damp ground. By this time, her mind was reeling from all the new information. The memory of that hospital had obviously blinded her.
Two heavy hands gripped her waist and heaved her back into a standing position. An amazingly intimidating man with charcoal skin pushed a flyer with a picture of an octopus on it at Byoki. She stumbled backwards, the sounds of Ikebukuro's population burrowing their way into her ears sharply.
"I help you up, so you eat at Russia Sushi, da?" the strange man asked, obviously new to the language he spoke. He seemed to be oblivious to the terror Byoki was currently experiencing and continued happily pressing her further towards one of the sushi shop's main windows. Everything had become so overwhelming Byoki wished she could go back to her peaceful thoughts. Even if they were about something terrible and horrid, it was better than her current situation. The man cornering her wasn't scary himself; it was simply the sheer volume at which information was entering her fragile mind. Her breathing became short and Byoki feared she would fall into a panic attack if she didn't calm herself. The man took yet another step forwards, forcing Byoki to pivot and run smack into the huge wall of glass behind her. And, knowing her luck, it shattered upon impact.
