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地獄少女ファンのフィクション
The Blue Doll: Part 2
"What can you say about this child?"
Onna Hone, a woman dressed in a lavish kimono with dark blue-black hair piled on top of her head, watched the restless girl from outside the window. Silently, she confirmed in her mind all the strangeness about this Nanisho Rumi, including the fact that the Young Miss had given her orders to pre-watch this one. Which was extremely rare, since Ai usually never bothered with the person until they contacted her first.
"She's different, all right." Beside Hone stood an old man with his eyes forever closed, wearing a yukata and red scarf around his neck. Wanyudo, another one of Ai's companion, had a look of intense seriousness on his face.
"You say she… is in love with Ren?"
Grimacing, Hone could only imagine what kind of person who'd ever fall for Ichimoku Ren was.
"Yes. According to what we have just witnessed, this infatuation probably started long before we even knew the girl."
Wanyudo had to let out a chuckle. "No wonder Ren didn't want to come today."
But his partner was all business. "Wanyudo," Hone said. "Do you think you can look into her mind? Her past? There's something weird about this child. I want to see what brought her to this state."
The man smiled. "Of course."
Wanyudo disappeared with a whirl of wind. In his place, a wide void filled the space of the window, a raging storm of concentrated chaos. Hone was about to enter it when static flashed from the edges of the void, and Wanyudo's voice shouted from afar,
"Something's wrong… You should hurry Hone!"
Quickly, the woman leapt into the storm, holding onto the ends of her kimono. She expected to meet the usual black emptiness before images and pictures covered the space of the person's mind they had entered. But this time, everything was pure white. Hone cautiously stepped forward, glancing around at the blandness of the area- the girl Rumi's mind…?
"Wanyudo?"
There was no response, only the sounds of white noise echoing off the walls and a dreadful silence that seemed to expand and fill up her body. Hone was extremely shocked; nothing in her centuries of serving by Ai's side had prepared her for this. It was almost as if the girl Rumi was nothing but an empty shell… her mind bereft of any thoughts or ideas of her own. The woman narrowed her eyes, about to disappear from the area with a spin of her dress.
"Oh, do we have a little spies?"
The sudden, girlish voice resonated around the area, causing Hone to wince and double over in pain, losing contact with her powers. It was steely and gravelly, though with a hint of dementia beneath its heavy layers. She recognized it as the voice of Rumi… yet there was something off.
"You're Hone, aren't you?" It addressed her with a giggle. "I just caught Wanyudo trying to make off. Nuh-uh, don't think you two can get away now."
Out of the nowhere, Wanyudo's limp body was flung at the stunned Hone, who could do nothing but catch the man in her arms. She felt as though all of her energy was drained, her brain flushed of any singular thoughts, just listening as Rumi continued.
"I saw you spying on me." A sigh. "Really, you must be more discreet about that. Just because humans can't see or hear you guys doesn't mean I can't."
"You make it sound as though you weren't one of them!"
Hone finally managed to shout back. Trembling, she could only stare up to where the voice emanated from, eyes defiant and fearful.
The woman imagined Rumi pacing before them if the girl had a body and form.
"Oh, I may be one…" was the smirky reply. "But I am special. You see, I was blessed by the gods with such power and intellect that people began to envy me and set me apart as different. That's really unfair, isn't it? Isn't it, Hone? Why don't you nod for me?"
In horror, Hone felt a heavy force upon her neck, pressing her head up and down in a disgraceful and humiliating bow.
"Wanyudo, why don't you stir? I have something to show the two of you. Since you were so interested in my past."
The figure leaning against Hone stirred slightly at the mention of his name.
"Come then."
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Winter cherry blossoms are like the sweet scent of feint decay. You know how bitter it tastes in your mouth, just like blood gushing from the bird falling off the tree. But I love to stuff them inside anyways. My teeth's stained with all the dark and sweet decay. Do you see? How lovely it is.
And she danced in the midnight rain of blossoms, sprinkling over her head like a fine coat of pink. Her eyes were still wide and innocent, but there was the mad gleam that would never leave in the years to come. Trailing behind her back was a tangle of brown, mousy with dirt and wind clawing at it, her movement a limp from the wound on her legs.
"Rumi, come in."
It was her mother, tone edged with weariness.
"Say you love me," the girl giggled. "And I will come in, Mother."
"Rumi… Bitch! Come in right now!"
This stopped the girl in her tracks, her eyes bulging in terror and confusion. This was the coarse voice of the man in her nightmares, the one who would never understand her twisted and fragile mind, the man who would punish her for saying the smallest of things.
"Daddy!" Rumi attempted a weak smile. "I will come."
At midnight that final night, she snuck out of the room, wincing at the bleeding scars on her back. He hadn't liked her response to question number 25 on her Math homework; lately, he didn't like anything she did.
Rumi was not stupid. Even at the age of 8, she knew something was very wrong with her. She thought the sky had eyes to watch her, that Hell was a passing boat ride across a distant and foggy landscape, that time froze still on the most barren of places, that love was just a silly game she could make fun of and play with over and over again.
Because really, when had anyone ever loved her?
"What can you do about her? She won't listen to us or anyone, always spacing out with that sick grin on her face, her eyes jagged and wide all the time, as though she's insane!"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Nanisho, but your daughter is insane."
Insane, her teacher had once told her, was something people say when they are scared of a unique individual who rose high above them, someone so special and different that they can't accept it.
Yes, Rumi had thought, smiling. I am insane.
The sound of the clock shocked her from her thoughts, those wild eyes dodging around the room to make sure Dad wasn't there. Slowly, the girl crept out of the house, past the cherry blossom trees out in the front and into the back shed. Rumi grinned, opening the door to reveal all the heavy machinery in the world, right in her backyard where she could easily get to.
She quickly grabbed a large branch clipper and ran back into the house. She would surprise Daddy with a late night visit, one he would never forget!
Knocking on the door of the darken room, Rumi stood up on her tip-toes, excitement tingling through her small body. "DADDYYYYY," she sang loudly, knocking some more. "Open the door, pleaseeeee!"
There was the sound of curses and shuffling feet, then a creak. Her eyes narrowed, the smile widening, her grip tightening on the sharp blade behind her back.
"What do you want??!"
Oh, Daddy, your face is too ugly. All bunched and ragged like that, so coarse and mean and hurtful.
The man's eyes widened as he stared down at his 8-year-old daughter.
Let me fix it for you. Because I love you so, so much. Even if you have never loved me once in your entire life.
Rumi leaned into his face, eyes bugling, lifting the clippers up with a sweet giggle.
"Surprise."
The next day, the girl woke up in the front door of her parent's room. She yawned, then noticed the red dye on her skin, over her clothes and on the floor. Her Dad was also there, lying on the ground, his head turned away from her. "You silly thing," Rumi laughed inanely, and twisted him so he faced her.
Rumi stared at the empty eye sockets, the jagged strips of flesh dipping in and out of the holes, the mouth gaping open, dried blood forming on the orifices of her father's skin. She stared at the man who had terrorized her since the day she was born, the man who hated her for being different and difficult, who would never love her, even as he rotted in Hell at this very moment…
You're beautiful, Daddy.
She laughed. She thought it was a beautiful laugh too, just like her father.
Rumi pressed her lips up against his opened mouth, laughing some more, choking on the dried liquid, and still laughing.
Yes, I am insane.
Loved and beautifully insane.
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