Chapter Eight: Love is for the human heart . . .
How? . . . How?
Blood splattered, screams echoed and bodies fell limply one by one. The sound of his blade stopped, ceasing its swings. He laid back onto the wall, letting himself pause moments after the small massacre.
How?
His eyes rested to the only limp form in the blood stained room who laid unconscious rather than lifeless. His eyes narrowed, not particularly fond of the situation he had found himself in . . . again. And so, looking to the young defenseless being laying on the ground in newly tattered clothing, he couldn't help but wonder. Just how was it that he found himself in the exact same scenario as before?
-Flashback-
Putting aside the note, Undertaker continued to laugh to himself. He leaned onto the table and stared out the window, it was rather early and so no one was out yet. Only the sun light beamed through the dark room.
"Time to check the agenda! ~" Undertaker snickered to himself. He did that every day, though there was never really anything to do. Flipping through the pages, he stopped, "Oh~", he smiled, "so there is something . . ."
. . . . . . . . . . . .
A battered carriage creaked as two old and out of shape horses aimlessly pulled slowly. Undertaker whistled and hummed to himself, sitting atop the cheap wooden carriage, since, for having no real business flow, this is what his money could afford. In the back, he carried a coffin, a very nice one in his opinion. It was black, shiny and made out of greater material than wood. It had delicate and loosely elegant silver swirl designs going around the coffin.
And though all of his coffins were well made, he was still not a charitable man, his customer was, of-course, paying a handsome fee. And although money was worthless in his eyes, his coffins and work was not and unfortunately acquiring the materials for his work came at a price in this world and so he'd had to play by the human's rules. . . . For now.
His next destination was to a small town to the east, but it wasn't far and even with his old carriage and horses, he'd arrive momentarily. Not long after, the carriage was prodding through the small village. He looked around, it was in fairly bad condition, but then, with Japan westernizing, times for the middle classes became a little harsh. Riots opposing change occurred almost all the time and so economic disasters were nothing new anymore.
What he hadn't expected is the lack in flow of his business. Surely, riots and fights led to many deaths, yet, no one dared to enter his funerary shop for services. He sighed, how unfortunate. Several other villagers stared at him in confusion and others gave him glares. Seemed as if having pass byers was an 'unwelcomed' thing.
He stopped the old horses, parking off to the side of the road. To the right, was a house, bigger than most but not as impressively big as Ciel Phantomhive's establishment. He thought back to the funerary store back in England, there was definitely more business there with the additional perks of messing with Ciel and his demon butler, Sebastian. Those two were certainly interesting . . . .
Brushing off the memory with a snicker, he stepped off his carriage and welcomed himself into the garden that stood just before the main entrance. An old man was in the garden, his hands and clothes dirty from the work.
The old man turned slightly and acknowledged Undertaker's presence. Meanwhile, Undertaker worked on unstrapping the beautiful coffin, "where should I put this, sir~" he asked, a grin on his face with the coffin leaning on his back.
The old man stood, dusting off the dirt from his clothing, "please," his voice was frail, "over there" he pointed. Undertaker looked, there was a center cropped out especially for the size of the ordered coffin etched in the garden between several kinds of flowers. "Oh, how lovely~" Undertaker commented, taking a good guess at who the coffin belonged to now.
He set it down and Undertaker snickered in his mind, for something as beautiful as his coffin, the flowers seemed to compliment it well. "She was a good wife . . ." the old man suddenly said, catching Undertaker's attention. The old man stared off to the skies as if his wife was there watching him. He smiled, "one day I will join her too . . ."
"But until then, my work is here" he then smiled to Undertaker. Undertaker simply smiled, not having any real interest in where the conversation was going. The old man stared at Undertaker, "Your smile makes you look unhappy . . ." he commented and Undertaker mentally paused. Oh?
The old man sighed, "though, you still are young, it's not unusual for you not to understand". Wrong. It was all wrong to Undertaker. Of course the elder spoke of love, but the elder failed to understand how unhuman he was and how love was a simple base desire meant only for a human heart. Even demons and Shinigami's understood that much.
Undertaker smiled, "is that so~" he said, readying his carriage to go. The old man simply sighed and paid for the coffin. "Only you can decide" he said softly. Undertaker paused, "Something like love, only you can decide, not anyone, and not even fate".
Where was this old man going with this? Undertaker's desire to leave grew stronger. "You will find someone," the old man smiled, "everyone eventually does, but whether you choose to follow or leave them behind, that is only something you can decide."
Undertaker simply nodded, getting annoyed and bored of the conversational lecture. He got back on his carriage, the old man waved and murmured something. If Undertaker hadn't been inhuman, he might of not have heard. Undertaker simply huffed to himself and went his way. What an unpleasant business transaction . . .
Passing through the village, it was an annoyance that the old man's words seemed to ring in his head though he understood not why. Love was for the human heart, it was completely impossible for beings such as himself to fall in love. Though, his mind wandered to the demon butler. That one did seem to be rather attached to his food. Was it possible that Sebastian, a ruthless demon, loved his human master?
Undertaker laughed aloud, startling several others as he passed by. Sebastian? In love with a human boy? It was utterly laughable since the possibility was high, so much that it was gross. After all, -
"Stop it!"
Busting through the side of an alleyway, came none other than- "Leave me alone!" Undertaker paused, so this is where he had gone . . . Behind, came running several shabby looking men, all drunks by the looks of it. All men who were simply out, trying to satisfy their savage need for pleasure, preferably in young and lovely prey.
His eyes narrowed on the glimmering beige blond hair, Haruka . . . He couldn't help but laugh. All that trouble earlier, cries and pleads of "freedom" only to be caged not moments later. It was outrageously pitiful.
Haruka huffed and panted, his stamina exhausting, everyone passing by was but a blur in his vision, all except- shining and glimmering to the sunlight were long locks of silver hair. His mind blanked, his eyes couldn't possibly be deceiving him, so why was that man here? Had he received his message and have been displeased by his rudeness in leaving without a word and come looking for him? Haruka shook the thought from his head, no, it wasn't like Undertaker at all and even if he didn't know the man well, he could tell that much.
Was it a mere coincidence? But if so, then why? Could it be that the twisted gears of fate were turning, choosing them as its new victims?
Kissy sounds, whistling and yells rang and pulled Haruka back to reality. Their eyes, and Undertaker's, though not easily seen, Haruka could feel that they met and it took every bit of suppression to not cry out for help. He had done enough, Undertaker more than likely was glad to be rid of him and so averting his eyes to a saddened gaze, he brushed off Undertaker's existence and ran past the carriage.
What . . . ?
Exactly his thoughts, what was that? Just like that, like a gush of wind, he had brushed him off? The urge to whip his head and watch him had beat him, turning his surprised gaze to the running boy. Haruka felt those eyes burn on him and accidently slowed his maneuvers when a giant and rough hand clasped onto his shoulder, pulling him back abruptly.
And following after, more hands tugged on him, restraining him, capturing him. Haruka shivered, the feel and tugs and gropes felt dirty and filthy, his mind screamed, beckoned him to shout for help- to call for his help.
"C'mon beautiful, we'll show you a good time" one said, dragging him, his heels scraping into the ground, his socks becoming brown from the collision of the dirt. He struggled in their grasps as they tugged and pulled, he could feel his clothing stretch, being ripped in the process.
Everyone merely stared and did nothing and continued on their paths. That was the norm, Haruka was used to not being saved, but then why, deep in his aching heart was there hope? His eyes never left Undertaker's from that moment on.
He could feel himself being dragged away to who knows where. His breathing quickened, his mind raced, his vision blurred, enveloping in his tears. He was downright pathetic, he felt it, that was the sight of him, and this was his life . . . . But even so . . ."P-please!-"
Undertaker just watched as they hauled Haruka away, he watched his struggles, the confliction that was evident in his mind. It meant nothing to him, their time of acquaintance was over and done with and so he recalled the note, a good man? Haruka was just about to find out just how naïve his thinking was. Readying himself to leave the village, he paused when Haruka's voice called out.
But even so . . . "P-please," Haruka's tears streamed down, "save me . . ." his voice but a whisper filled with sorrow . . . .
The men dragging him away had no idea, no clue about what Haruka meant or to whom the phrase was directed to. They figured the pitiful boy was begging someone in the crowd at random, hoping someone would care. They snickered to themselves and at the hopeless boy, after all, no one in this god forsaken town ever cared for another's well-being.
Meanwhile Undertaker sat still, as if frozen. He didn't care, he didn't care, it's what he'd tell himself, so why was it bothering him? Why was it being etched in his memory, the sight of Haruka enveloped in his own tears, being pulled away?
No . . . he'd seen that once before and it hadn't affected him before. . . . Was it because Haruka called out? Called out to him? "Tch!" Undertaker bit his lip, how disdainfully annoying.
Haruka was thrown and with no seconds to spare, they crowded him, uninvitingly roaming their disgusting unwelcomed hands over him. Haruka struggled, fought back, bit, and scratched where he could. But he was merely one versus many and the fight seemed hopeless. They scowled at his scratches and winced at his bites, their desperation for pleasure and satisfaction grew and Haruka received heavy blows for his incompetence to abide by their wants.
One bite drew blood and the man yelped in surprise as the others laughed at him. His anger raged and he pulled Haruka's hair, it painfully stinging his head. Haruka winced and whimpered as they laughed and ripped his clothes to pieces. "Stop it!" he yelled, his voice finally busting through his unwilling exterior. His sobs echoed through the walls and the men grew tired of this.
"Shut up!" and a blow to the back of his head made his world spin, his vision blurred, blackening and he could only hear. A loud 'BAM' propped the doors wide open. Haruka receded to unconsciousness, his mind only wondering if he was being saved.
-End of Flashback-
Tapping his fingers lightly in a re-occurring pattern to the ground, Undertaker's mind was boggled, he haggled himself, searching for answers to his own questions as to why he had chosen to save Haruka again.
A moment's passing of the old man's last words popped into his mind. He laughed softly, "You say 'I' will fall in love?" he snickered, it slowly turning into an abrupt crazed man's delirious echoes of laughter.
It 'pittered' and 'pattered' not a few moments later, the rain washing over the land. Undertaker looked back to the unconscious Haruka, brushing back his bangs, his green beautiful mesmerizing glowing orbs piercing its gaze onto the delicate beauty. His expression was serious and he looked back to the rain through the minimally opened doors, "Oh~", he went back to his usual tone, "it's seems our Lord is crying" he mocked.
"No matter" he said darkly, though there was no one to hear him. He glanced back at Haruka, an overwhelming feeling of disdain washing over him and he couldn't keep up his "giddy" farce. His face expression went dark again-
Shinigami's do NOT fall in love you silly old man . . . .
(Phew, sorry, I know it's been a while, but was previously busy with my finals and studying or what not, college is not as easy as I thought ^ ^ anyways here's the long awaited update, sorry its short)
