Special thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far and who have added this story to their alerts and faves! I'm happy with the positive responses o far! Sorry this took so long! Finals are coming up and school has been stressful. Also, this chapter was a real doosy to write seeing as this featured two characters who would probably never interact with each other on a normal basis-but I wanted Byakuran's character to break, in some way, and Haru was such an innocent character... anywho. On to the warning.
Warning: The characters involved will be Byakuran and Haru. No. There is no romance between the two, so you don't have to worry about anything.
Disclaimer: I don't own Byakuran and I wished I didn't own the nuclear warfare going on in my pants right now. AKA Mother nature's fucking gift to the female population.
I swear I'm normally much more funnier than this but anyways, on with the story!
Chapter Two
Paris, France 1525
Colors, vibrant and bright. The dawn of a new age intellectually and artistically. Byakuran sat perched upon his window seat, overlooking the crowd milling around the Gardens of the Château de Villandry. A beautiful topiary garden that Byakuran himself had helped to sculpt and create. Though gardening wasn't really his forte.
He was more of a... musician, so to speak.
"Though as for now I'm hitting a major roadblock." he leaned his head back against the arched window, a sigh escaping his lips. Melancholy weighed heavily on his shoulders. The day was progressing so slowly and no amount of playing on the piano could fix it. He just wasn't feeling a muse today.
A walk through the city might be able to help.
He threw on a light jacket and combed his spiky, white hair. A quick glance in his mirror led him to admire his startling, exotic beauty. No doubt that once he walked out this door all eyes would be on him. If not because of his looks then because of his prestige as a world class musician.
Once he stepped outside his Victorian home, the streets were alive. Women were escorted by their well to do husbands. Children ran up and down the streets laughing and playing. A group of clowns were performing tricks and handing out flyers advertising the arrival of Cirque de rêves. Artists plotted themselves on street corners with their colorful palettes and empty canvas with their hopes exposed on their sleeves.
"Pathetic," Byakuran whispered as he walked by one man who was offering the first session as free for anyone willing to try. Lord, some people were simply so desperate. Clawing and clinging, grappling and hurdling towards the shallow pool named 'success'. Byakuran was born gifted. He was a prodigy in the musical arts by age five. Performed in his first concert at age seven. Composed his own fugue by age nine. His life was a progression of never ending success that, honestly, was expected by a genius.
By a genius that transcended over all, over the intellectually inclined and the artistically divined.
Though his heart did that funny thing where it tugged with the tiniest twinges of sympathy. A newly acquired trait for the self-proclaimed god. One he couldn't say was his cup of tea, but he had to deal with. If his memory wasn't playing on tricks on him, Byakuran vaguely guessed the emotion came from something traumatizing or world-breaking—or he could be overreacting. That happened a lot.
"Ladies and gents! Citizens of the upper hills and citizens that still walk along the lower streets, hear my cry!"
Byakuran stopped in his trek, as did many others on the street at the girl's call. A girl, Byakuran noticed, who was dressed from head to toe like a...
"Broccoli?" Byakuran puffed out a laugh. "Am I seeing things...?" Nope, no wine in his systems and no sugar rush from an overdose with his treasure trove of chocolate. People on the streets stopped to stare as well. Whispers floated around. Mockery plopped through the air and bounced into the sky to join the clouds above. Multiplying and growing as a tiny crowd of derision appeared around the Broccoli Girl.
Obviously unaware of their scornful glances, the girl continued. "Ah, such a beautiful crowd! Haru is very pleased! For today's show, Haru is going to show you the wonderful world of magical vegetables!"
Oh, that generated some laughter. Though Byakuran could easily pick out the malice. This girl was going to get ridiculed.
His heart did that funny twinge again.
The girl, Haru, proceeded to do numerous tricks—many of which all failed in the end. Laughter arose and people started to fish around for loose change. They threw them at her for all that their dirty francs were worth.
"Eek!" she squeaked, shielding herself from the onslaught.
Byakuran folded his arms. His lips turning into a little frown. His heart was doing that funny, twingy thing again and it was truly starting to grate on his nerves. Everyone really was getting on his nerves. This crowd of people that only gathered around to make fun of a girl who—though rather poorly—was trying her best at something. If it were him, he would have walked up to her and told her point blank that her career in magic was futile.
A little boy tossed a tomato into the air, fully intent on throwing it at the girl who was quivering on the cobblestone streets in fear. Byakuran had enough. He grabbed the boy by the wrist, a smile that was all but real and eyes as cold as the wintery coast of Russia.
"Now what in the world are you doing throwing a perfectly good franc away?" Byakuran clucked his tongue and plucked the coin out of the boy's hand.
"Hey!" the boy, barely ten, started to jump and jump to reach Byakuran's outstretched hand. He made grabbing motions towards the empty, tense air. "That's my coin! Gimme it!"
"I'd rather not. You obviously do not understand the importance of currency. Same goes for you folks." his purple eyes glanced around the crowd. He noticed the involuntary shivers, the shadows of shame, the clarity of indifference, and the icy frost of annoyance. "This girl's act may be pitiful, but throwing your money at her is doing the exact opposite of your plans to torment. If anything, I say this girl has made a day's profit from your stupidity." he glanced back to Broccoli Girl. She was staring at him with the widest brown eyes he had ever seen.
Oh Lord, when did he start to care...?
The crowd began to disperse after that, leaving the area with heads hung in shame. Mutters still stained the air, but at this point Byakuran couldn't care less. His eyes were still on the girl who looked all in the world lost and confused as to what just happened.
This was where he slipped on a smile, fake but good enough to portray an air of someone who really cared. Byakuran bent down and started to gather up the loose coins.
"Ah..." the girl began. Byakuran had a handful of coins and handed it to her. "Y-You really didn't have to do that! Haru wasn't hurt! And Haru really doesn't need the money!"
Byakuran slowed down in his collecting, his fingers twirling a gold franc in his hands. "Is that so...?" he chuckled. "Then you're trying to tell me you came out here, put on that ridiculous costume and all, just for fun?"
"Yes!" Haru replied without any shame.
Lovely, he helped out a full-blown, raging idiot.
Though he didn't let his letdown show on his face. Rule #1 of being a Gentleman: Never let a woman, no matter how crazy she may be, see your disappointment. They'll start to ask questions and once that occurs there's no going back.
"Well," Byakuran had scooped up all the coins by now and deposited them into a little sack he carried around his belt loop. "I don't know about you, Miss, but if I had come across a bounty of wealth such as you, I would take up the money without hesitation." He counted about twenty francs worth of coins. Not enough to buy a loaf of bread but it could get a quarter of bread and maybe some soup to wash it down with.
Haru seemed to weigh the pros and cons—whatever they happened to be—for taking the money before breaking out into a big smile with her hands outstretched to receive the money. "Hehe, you're right! Thanks, Mister... Mister uh... Who are you?"
Now Byakuran wasn't one to toot his own horn so soon, but his pride was very much intact—and strong. The fact that this girl had no clue who he was, or never gave the inclination that she knew all along, was a raging fire that threatened to consume Byakuran's pride as an accomplished musician to ashes.
His eyebrow twitched. His smile lost about 25% of its luster. "You mean you've never heard of me? Surely you must be joking."
"Nope!"
"... mon Dieu, you're not joking. You're not joking one bit... Tell me, you haven't been living under a rock your whole life, have you?"
"No, Mister! Haru has actually been living in this nice cardboard box about, um..." Haru stuck her arms out the entire length wiggling her fingers, "this long and this big. It's really cozy and stuff."
A blank expression painted Byakuran's face. For once in his life... he was completely and utterly stupefied. Byakuran smacked himself in the face, dragging his hand down until it rested on his chin.
"I thought seeing you wear that atrocious broccoli costume spoke volumes on your incompetence but I stand corrected!" Byakuran glanced left and right to find a flyer, picture, mural, statue, anything that would show this girl how big of an error she was producing. Luckily, his eyes fell onto a nearby flyer hanging on the lampost. Byakuran quickly ran over, grabbed the flyer, and ran back so he could show it to Haru.
Byakuran's pride felt ten times better, the burns of the flames dying down, when he witnessed that fragile moment of realization and awe... only to have those flames come back with revival when the light all but vanished.
"Wow, Mister, Haru never knew you were such a good artist! Did you draw that while you were gone? Cool!"
Byakuran's jaw hung open. His eyes were wide as saucers. How... How in the world...
How in the world had Byakuran managed to meet someone so, utterly, oblivious?
+H. U. M. A. N. I. T. Y.+
Two weeks later and Byakuran still did not have a muse yet.
On the bright side, he made a new friend.
Though, he wouldn't really call Haru a friend. Because a friend, by definition, was easy to manifest. Friend / noun / a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations. There was nothing mutual about this relationship. More like... a parasitic relationship where Haru was the parasite and Byakuran was the unlucky host who had to deal with her imbibing presence day in and day out.
"Haru," Byakuran was lounging on a park bench, staring blankly at empty music sheets that refused to spark innovation.
"Hm?"
"You do know that's not a pool, right?"
The girl was splashing about in the fountain, this time wearing a carrot suit—despite Byakuran's protests to do the exact opposite—that generated as much, if not more attention, towards Haru as her last outfit did.
"Mhm! But there aren't pools around and it's really, really hot! So why not take a swim in the fountain?" Haru picked up a shiny franc and beamed. "Look, Marshmallow-san, Haru found a really shiny franc! Isn't it cute?"
Byakuran's mouth twitched. Was this the part where he was supposed to nod his head and go along with this insanity? "That's very cute, Haru."
"Haru thinks she's going to put it in her collection."
Another thing that bothered Byakuran to no end, but he was too much of a gentlemen to actually voice his annoyance. Haru's insistent use of using third person pronouns. It was moderately cute at first, however it was growing out of hand. Day in and day out it was "Haru loves this!" and "Haru loves that!". Was it so hard to throw a pronoun into the mix every once in awhile?
Shaking his head, Byakuran walked over to Haru. He pulled at her cheeks, stretching them as far as they can go. "Haru, I am only doing this for your own good, but pour l'amour de Dieu woman use some pronouns! Say it with me: 'My name is Haru. I love embracing my inner steamed vegetable'."
"Wakuwran! Waru wan't!"
"Wrong. Try again."
"Wut wour wolding wout Waru's wace!"
Byakuran gave an exceptionally hard tug, causing the girl to jump from the force. "This will only make you stronger, Haru. Now please. Try it on more time and I want to see some energy!"
"Look at that weirdo over there..."
"Which one?" came a snort. "The talking carrot girl or the albino pulling at her face?"
Byakuran froze. He had expected the occasional stares. He even counted the various comments that would no doubt be spurred by their merged presence. Stopping in his "help" Byakuran looked over his shoulder to the pair of girls behind him.
"Problem, ladies?"
One girl stiffened. The other girl, a tad feistier, stuck her nose in the air. "But of course! It's certainly improper to be outside in such a state of dress." she pointed her finger at Haru. "Take that ridiculous costume off this instant!"
Byakuran took a glance back at Haru, the girl looking for all the world like she was stalk on what to say. Her body was shivering, water droplets rolling off her costume. Byakuran mentally sighed. He would have to stick up for her again. Put his neck out into the crossfire and hopefully not get guillotined in the process.
"No I will not!"
The outburst shattered everything. Byakuran's eyes were slightly widened as he watched Haru stand up, ready to defend herself. Though in all honesty, Byakuran was more surprised that Haru actually used 'I' instead of her name.
'See? My efforts paid off just fine.'
The two girls were just as shocked, though Fiesty One was the first to recover. "Oh please. As if I will stand here and allow you to talk back to me in such a manner! You are no more than an impoverished street rat with no ounce of sense in your head! Common sense would tell you that wearing such atrocious suits will get you mocked!"
"H-I-I don't care! Wearing these suits make me very happy! I... I know Ha-I am not rich but I do not wish to be rich of any sort! I... Haru wants to do things that make her happy, and make other people smile! And... And if Haru can do that—if I can make people feel joy even at the expense of myself... then I do not care!" Haru was bawling at this point, tears streaming down her face as she delivered the final message to her tirade. "You can mock me all you want but you will not stop me from fulfilling my dream!"
Silence entered. It was heavy, tense, so very ponderous that it made Byakuran's shoulders sag even after the two girls left. He had never seen Haru so... angry. Comically angry where she puffed out her cheeks and ignored him for five seconds, yes. But the type of anger that left a heavy silence in its wake, that left words behind that ran in your mind for days? Never. And, to be truthful, Byakuran never wanted to see such anger from the girl again. To him, she was so simple minded. So at ease with the world and with herself and her vastly creativity that something so brutally ugly as anger didn't fit into her jigsaw puzzle.
Before Byakuran knew it, he was doubled over with laughter. Pure, unbridled laughter.
Haru huffed, stomping out of the fountain to smack Byakuran on the shoulder. "Why are you laughing!"
"Well!" Byakuran chirped. "I'm just so glad to see that my teaching methods worked! You finally used I!"
"O-Only because it came out so suddenly!"
"Suuuuuuure. It's quite alright. I'm a miracle worker no matter what it is, or what I do. You need not feel shame in thanking me."
"I will not thank you! Not one—Eek!" Haru clamped her hands over her face, the realization that she had committed—in her mind—the cardinal sin.
Byakuran was doubled over with laughter. His pride swelling because, well, he was right! As to be expected, of course, but it was always nice to have a little reminder of how right and awesome he was from time to time. Haru's blush was adorable, to say the least, and Byakuran poked fun at the brunet all day.
Whoa... All day. Byakuran had spent the entire day with this girl and hadn't thought anything of it. Wow, that was incredibly... weird.
The albino shook his head. Was now really a good time to focus on the strangest corners of his relationships? No! He had a concert in two weeks and absolutely no new music to boast about. This was seriously troubling for the prodigist. His fans expected more than the best music from him now. They wanted something revolutionary, awe-inspiring... wondrous! Yet his mind was completely blank.
Haru had come to sit beside him on the bench now. Her costume partially dried, with her hair sticking to her round face. The two had a staredown. An awkward stare down when neither party really knew what to say. A hater of silence, Byakuran pulled at Haru's cheek.
"Shtop that!"
"Haru, I need to ask you a question."
"Can you do that without pulling on Haru—Ow! My cheek!"
"Not really," Byakuran smirked before letting go. "Now back to my question. You never really told me why you dress up in such ridiculous—" the glare Haru was shooting him made Byakuran rethink his word choice. "—uh, innovating costumes!"
"Much better," Haru huffed, though a tiny smile was on her face. She leaned back against the bench and glanced up at the sky. "Um... Haru guesses it's because... Haru's momma really wanted her to eat her vegetables and stuff. Said it would make Haru strong and beautiful! But Ha—I mean... I was really stubborn. So I never listened."
"This is turning out to be a very bo—" Another glare from Haru promptly shut Byakuran up. Well then. Last time he added his own two cents into the conversation.
"One day," she continued. "My mother got very sick. First it was never-ending colds. Then came the fever... oh the fever was absolutely dreadful. She became delirious... babbling on and on while Haru sat there... helpless! Confused! I started to eat my vegetables after that, hoping that she'd get better... but she didn't."
Haru became downcast. That glimmer of childlike innocence Byakuran found so silently endearing was diminished. Squandered out by the harsh boot of reality and terrible memories. She curled into herself, her knees to her chest, her chin to her knees. She looked like the entire world had crumbled from underneath of her.
Byakuran felt that odd twinge of sympathy course through his body again. It clawed at his heart. Broke every string that made his heart dangle inside its bony confine like a puppet tied to its strings. Made him bleed in a way he never had before... in a bloody wave of compassion and care.
Before he realized what he was doing, Byakuran pulled the girl into an embrace. The touch burned him. Burned him in so many ways that Byakuran squeezed the girl even tighter simply to escape the ache that was pounding at his soul. He felt a wetness touch his shoulder. Felt a shiver and a shudder and an earthquake that didn't belong to his body erupt. Experienced what it was like to see someone go through the gruesome and terrible pain and losing a loved one. Oh, how Byakuran's soul ached. How his heart cried out in sympathy for it too, deep down, knew what it felt like to lose someone you cared for.
Byakuran wasn't sure how long they stayed like that. Or really what brought on the sudden urge to hug Haru. Then he heard her voice, soft as a pin drop, whisper: "Thank you, Byakuran". The man stiffened. That was the first time she ever referred to him as Byakuran. It was always "Marshmallow-kun" Or "Fluffbutt". But his real name? The man shivered.
He didn't respond.
Only held onto her for words truly didn't hold a purpose anymore.
+H. U. M. A. N. I. T. Y.+
"Haru..."
"Hm?"
"You live in a pigsty." And that was Byakuran being considerate. Haru's living arrangements, if you could even call them that, were atrocious. Trash littered every inch of the floor! Rats scurried here and there. The smell of rotting feces and decaying trash stunk up every corner.
Yet Haru stood by her little box like she was the queen of the world.
Well, queen of the world encompassed by apples.
"No Haru does not! This place is fabulous! Look!" she grabbed Byakuran by the arm and pulled him over to the mouth of the alleyway. "Haru has the perfect view of the canals over there, see? And my box is really big so I have enough room to be comfortable while I sleep!"
Byakuran scrunched up his face. "A pigsty is a pigsty and you, Haru, are nothing but a little piggy. Can piggy go oink?"
"You're so mean, Bya!" Haru huffed. Though her huff turned into four rounds of sneezes, followed by an wretched cough. Byakuran cocked his eyebrow. Where in the world had that come from?
"You okay there, Haru? You sounded like you were giving birth to a hairball over there?"
"Je suis d'accord! Just a little sneeze!"
"Just a little—Haru. You nearly gagged up a lung. That is far from being little."
"But Haru's fine, see!" Haru twirled around, singing a random song that was so out of tune Byakuran visibly cringed. "Sick people can't dance!"
"Nor can they sing either..." Byakuran picked at his throbbing ear. His eardrum would be shot for weeks!
Haru looked about ready to retaliate when another round of sneezes occurred. They lasted longer this time. Byakuran vaguely wondered if he should say something. Maybe take her back to his place so she didn't sleep outside in such unfavorable conditions. Then he remembered that although he may have grown some kindness, his capacity to care for others wasn't so high that he'd offer Haru a room at his mansion.
Though the thought lingered.
Soon the two had exited that God Forsaken alleyway for much brighter streets filled to the brim with people. The circus was finally in town! As all the flyers boasted about, of course. Byakuran had hoped to stop by for a visit. He was an avid lover of circuses because they provided such a wonderful escape from the pressures of music.
Haru's eyes landed on a flyer. Her eyes sparkled with wonder. Byakuran could easily put two and two together before the girl even asked.
"Would you like to go see it?"
Haru nodded her head. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Can we?"
"That's why I asked you, right?" Byakuran smiled lopsidedly. God, this girl was a riot.
Haru latched her arm onto Byakuran's and dragged him behind a trail of people who were no doubt heading for the circus. When they reached, Byakuran used his special connections to get them into the circus for free. Entering the circus was like diving into a whole new world. Music, light and airy, bounced around the round top. Animals of all shapes and sizes walked with an air about them that defined them from being different than some common street rat. People from all different social classes sat in the seats made for the audience.
Byakuran snatched them a row up front, right by the action, and Haru was bouncing with excitement.
"Bya, what if we see an elephant? Do you think Haru could ride it?"
"No, I don't think Haru could ride it. But I do believe I could ride it."
Haru stuck out her tongue. Byakuran chuckled. She made teasing her so easy.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Children of all ages! I am proud to welcome you all to Cirque de rêves! You are all invited to enjoy a night of hopes, wishes, dreams, and... of course..." the lights shut off. The entire circus was encompassed with darkness, black and pitch. The darkness where you couldn't even see your own hand in front of your face. "Nightmares..." the ringleader continued from somewhere."
A crash of thunder ruptured the stage. Haru jumped. Byakuran, on the other hand, only twitched for appearances sake. Amusement sparkled in his eyes. He wondered what would happen next. For the next three hours performers from every walk of earth came out showing their odd yet extraordinary skills. Animals were whipped into submission and forced to act out in the grand scheme of the allure of dreams, and nightmares, and how overly vivid an imagination can become if you use it the right way.
And how horribly vivid the imagination could transform into if you allow your fears to fester and rot your mind.
By the end of it all, everyone was out of their seats in an uproar. Haru had tears streaming down her face as she joined the fray, clapping wildly along with the crowd. Byakuran wasn't as hyped as everyone else was but he hollered for the sake of hollering. Even screamed an encore or two because he could. No big deal.
When the excitement finally died down, everyone got up to leave. Haru stayed behind. She walked over to the ring leader and started to wave her hands excitedly, talking a mile a minute. Byakuran stood behind, picking up a few words here and there. He couldn't decipher much, but with a hunch he figured Haru was gushing about how awesome the show had been. From what he could see, the ringmaster wasn't the slightest bit fazed by her strange dress. Though if he really thought about it the ringleader must have seen so many strange oddities in his lifetime, a girl dressed up like an apple wasn't too strange.
Thirty minutes later and the two were back in the outside world. The curtain dropped behind him and Haru. Their trip to the world of dreams, imagination, and nightmares were all but a... well, a dream. Byakuran stretched his arms up high, basking in the winter's cold air. December had just come around. It wrapped it's cold, frostbitten arms around the shoulders of men, children, and women. No one could escape it's frozen grip.
Haru shivered, rubbing her hands up and down her arms for warmth. "Wasn't that show great, Bya?"
"Worth every penny," Byakuran shot her a lopsided smile.
Another shiver ran up Haru's spine. "You know, Bya. T-That ringleader asked H-Haru if she wanted to j-join them. Haru said... She would think about it. D-Do you think I should join them—mon Dieu it's so cold!"
"This year has been quite frigid." Byakuran added in, a tad bit absentmindedly. He noticed the violent shivers that continued to ravage Haru's small frame and wondered, vaguely, if he should say something—do something.
"Aya... I think—Haru thinks she could—"
Slowly, like ice melting off a budding flower, Byakuran watched as Haru fainted. Her body hit the ground with the silence of a pin dropping onto a newly mopped floor. Stunned, Byakuran did not know how to react. Was this a trick? A minor trickery of the brain? An extremely vivid daydream? He pinched his cheek, only to find out that yes—this was reality. No, this was not a dream.
And yes, Haru was running a dangerously high fever.
+H. U. M. A. N. I. T. Y.+
Byakuran had taken the girl back to his mansion. The maids and butlers were all ravingly confused, but their comments to themselves until their master was out of sight. No doubt some horrid gossip would be spread throughout the halls of the Gesso mansion like wildfire. At that moment of time, Byakuran hadn't given the whispers and stares a second thought. His heart was wrapped in such concern over Haru's well being—because it would be troublesome to leave her weakened state behind—that nothing else really mattered.
Now, four days later, he had caught wind that the girl was either a prostitute he grabbed from the streets. The daughter of the king who had recently gone missing (though that was absolutely ludicrous seeing as the king's daughter had blonde hair and Haru was clearly a brunette). Or, and this one was the kicker, that Byakuran had went into the circus, stole one of the clowns, and is now holding her ransom until the lion tamer relinquishes his team of lions for the albino's personal use. The last rumor was one of Byakuran's favorites, if he were to be truthful, but at this moment all he could think about was the girl eating soup in his bed, barely recovering from her strange bout of sickness.
Not to mention that his concert was in another week's time, and still no muse. Byakuran was becoming frustrated. He had to take care of Haru for the girl wouldn't allow anyone other than Byakuran to look and tend to her in such a pitiful state. Byakuran struggled to come up with a line of music. A melody, a phrase, a fugue, a damn composition that strung together a masterpiece Byakuran was critically acclaimed to give birth to as if it were second nature! Such stress was taking a toll on Byakuran's nerves. He bit on his thumbnail and snapped at any poor, unsuspecting personnel he happened to make eye contact. Now he sat at his piano bench, resorting to banging his fists onto the keys to create music—any music; no matter how putrid, rotten, and discordant it sounded.
"B-Bya...?"
Byakuran whipped his head around. Haru was finally stripped out of that ridiculous fruit costume she normally wore, wearing one of the dresses Byakuran had his maid go out and buy. Her face was flushed. Her chocolate brown eyes barely held a flame to the spark of life they used to. He swallowed. She looked so close to—
"Haru, you should go back to bed. You're not well."
"H-H...I—I can't." she tried to pull back the covers, her hand shaking. "Mama... I gotta... to Mama."
"No. You can't." Byakuran walked over to the bed and placed a hand on the girl's shoulder, pushing her back down. "Your mother... Haru, you know she's not here."
"Not... here?" Deliria. She was going completely insane. A strange feeling of urgency crept up Byakuran's back and grabbed him by the back of his neck. He instinctively reached for his neck and swallowed. Was this... panic? The sudden, uncontrollable fear of anxiety that was so easy for the albino to define but to experience...? Over this girl he had only met a few weeks ago...?
No.
This could not be.
This could not happen again.
Why Byakuran thought of those last, three words, he could not comprehend nor fathom. All he could do was continue to convince Haru that her mother was not waiting for her at the circus. Nor would she ever come back. He watched as Haru went through a series of breakdowns. Mental, first. Delirious and crazed she started to lash out at Byakuran no matter what he did. Then she cried. Oh, the wails were terrible. They attacked Byakuran's icy heart and made it bleed. Finally, came the silence.
The worst part of it all.
Byakuran stood there, stupefied, exhausted, spent. He frowned, his eyebrows knitted in confusion as he stared at the girl who looked blankly at the window now. Her episodes gone—though far from over. He noticed that her eyes never left the spiraling circus top that still loomed over the city.
Oh right... the circus had one more day left; tomorrow.
+H. U. M. A. N. I. T. Y.+
The doctor stopped by to check up on Haru, and the news was not good.
"Is that all you can do?" Byakuran's voice almost climbed above the heights of it's normal, nonchalant and calm tenor.
The doctor's face remained impassive and completely inconsiderate. "Gesso, I understand your alarm but I have done everything in my power. Let this girl go to God now."
Let this girl go to God...?
To... God?
Byakuran spat on the man's shoes. "I will not let this girl leave my side. Do you understand? Either run another test on her and fix her ailment, or leave! But once you step out this door, mark my words, I will tarnish your reputation that not even God can save you!"
A slight crack to the mask. The doctor rubbed his temples, annoyance hanging on his shoulders. "Monsieur Gesso, I am not a miracle worker. I am but a man who has done all that he can. My medical capabilities have been exhausted. The disease running through that girl's body as we speak is hereditary. Passed on by her mother—a sex-linked disease. It will eat away at her nervous system and body until she is nothing but an empty shell of the human being she once was." the doctor sighed. Finally, the emotion of pain flashed through the doctor's eyes.
Byakuran's frown deepened. "So you expect me to wait and watch her die?"
"You can pray. Pray and ask that her soul comes easily and painlessly before the Lord."
And with that, the doctor left.
He left behind a transforming doll and a hopelessly musician in his wake.
+H. U. M. A. N. I. T. Y.+
Three days later.
The disease was virulent.
It came in like a riot. Spread flames that could torch down a city in mere seconds. Burned down an entire personality without even batting an eye. Byakuran was forced to watch it all crumble away. First the bodily movements deteriorated. Haru couldn't even lift her arm let alone go to the bathroom by herself. Then came motor and mental traits. They all disappeared like the fickle romance of teenage love. The worst part, however, was watching the glimmer in Haru's eyes slowly melt away. No longer did they shine like golden jewels bestowed around the queen's neck for the world to stare in awe and jealousy.
They were muddy, inky, dead.
Byakuran refused to go into his room anymore.
He refused to look at the former face of... of that girl who was nothing now but a dying doll!
"Dammit!" he slammed his fists against the keys, a terrible sound ringing throughout the music room. Pure fury was running through his veins, but not at Haru. Oh no, all the anger was at himself. For not seeing the warning signs. For not conjuring up the notion that whatever killed Haru's mother unexpectedly could kill Haru later on, as well. Byakuran was supposed to be prodigy! A genius! Yet he couldn't save two people...?
Wait... two people...?
Byakuran froze. Why... why in the world did it feel like he had gone through this before? The despair and anguish of losing someone so close and knowing you can't do anything to save them...?
Before he could expand further on his thoughts, a tug on his sleeve came. He was about to snap at the offender when his eyes fell on Haru...
"Haru! What do you think you're doing? Get into bed." he commanded. How had the girl gotten up to even get to the music room? It was a floor below Byakuran's room.
Haru shook her head, slowly and methodically. Her lips quivered and barely formed the word 'circus'.
She wanted to go to the circus.
"No, Haru..." Byakuran let loose a sigh, running his hands through his hair. "We can't go to the circus, alright? You are not feeling well and to bring you out in this weather would be suicide."
Yet Haru wouldn't let it go. She continued to tug on Byakuran's sleeve. Her lips quivered. The word circus appeared over and over and over again. She wanted to go back to the circus. She wanted to go back to that wretched circus even if it killed her. Byakuran sat at the piano bench, for the first time in years at a complete and utter loss as to what to do...
Another tug on his shoulder.
Byakuran could barely glance at Haru's eyes.
Finally... he cracked.
"One last show," Byakuran whispered before carrying Haru upstairs to get ready. There was no way she was going outside like that.
+H. U. M. A. N. I. T. Y.+
All eyes were on the albino, but this time not in reverence.
Oh no... these stares were born from utter confusion and wonder; not of the respectful kind.
Although they had a justifiable reason. It was not everyday that you see a world-renowned pianist carrying around a girl wearing a celery costume.
"A few more minutes, Haru. Hang on for me okay?" Byakuran stared straight ahead. His strides long and graceful, yet hurried and on a mission. He would not stop until he reached that round top, the colorful music, the mystery and amazement of the world within the circus.
Finally, they arrived at their destination. Haru's breathing was short, shallow. Her fever was so hot, and her face so flushed, Byakuran almost regretted bringing her out here.
Almost.
The last performance of the day was already over by the time they had gotten there, and Byakuran's heart almost sunk.
Almost.
The ringleader had remembered their faces and offered them a few minutes for a little look around. His eyes landed on Haru, small at first, before they shot up in shock and confusion.
"Mon Dieu! What happened to this girl?"
"Don't ask..." Byakuran shook his head, slipping on a smile. A smile so, so fake and perfected over the years that not even Byakuran could tell whether it was genuine or bust. "She's a little under the weather and demanded that I take her out no matter what."
"But the temperature—!"
"I know what it's like outside. I—" Byakuran's smile never faltered. "I simply could not let my dear friend's wish... go to waste. Please, Ringleader. Allow us to have a dance?"
The ringleader took of his hat, scratching the back of his head. Of all the things... He shrugged his shoulders and bowed, offering them center stage.
"Haru. Haru, can you hear me? We're going to dance, okay? Your moment in the circus has finally come." Byakuran wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her up against his chest. He nestled his nose into her hair and moved in a circle, languidly and graceful—dancing to the music that Byakuran hummed randomly, as if the notes were magically appearing in his head for him to recite.
"The clown takes the stage. Lights go dim. A world is painted in front of your eyes. The clown does a dance, and the dance, is grand. And the world in front of your eyes, grows bright." A tune that picks itself up, airy and light, yet the words that pounding into Byakuran's skull as he made another circle were anything but light. "And ice, it comes, and seals your soul. And locks you away, and takes you from me. The world, which you saw, is no longer there. And the clown that was dancing... has stopped... it's dance."
Haru's body became limp.
Her heart stopped beating.
The clown had stopped it's dance.
And the world, the world he saw with one more person to make his life a bit more interesting... was dead.
+H. U. M. A. N. I . T. Y.+
Though despair we find creativity.
For one can not travel through the labyrinth forever without formulating in their mind new ways to escape to counter the old ways that failed.
Immediately after Haru's death, Byakuran was hit with a muse. A muse so powerful that it clung to him and shackled onto his wrists and ankles, refusing to release him. He was in his music room day and night working, reworking, building, rebuilding the perfect melody tilted: The Clown's Dance.
His work was acclaimed as music far beyond this generation's time. The concept of a clown who's only wish was to make the world happy, to be a grade different above the rest, ends in a tragic death of his dream, and himself. When asked about how he got such a strikingly beautiful yet startling muse for such a piece, Byakuran could only answer with that secretive smile of his. The one that hid a lie. The one that never reached his eyes. The one that held back every damn emotion he was better of sealing away.
"A great musician never reveals his secrets."
The only clue the world would get at where Byakuran got his inspiration from would be at Haru's funeral.
Only two people came: Byakuran and the ringleader.
The two people that ever showed interest in the girl.
It was a short funeral. No words were said. The only thing that occurred at the funeral was Byakuran pulling out scores of music, along with flowers, and placing them onto Haru's grave.
"Thank you... Haru." Byakuran pressed two fingers to his lips, then pressed them to the tombstone. "Now go. Find your mother... I know she's missed you."
A heavy chunk of ice settled itself into the pit of Byakuran's stomach. As if... as if this wasn't the first time he lost someone he dared to bring close to him. As if... another strand of chains he had painstakingly wrapped around his heart, to seal off any and all feeble human emotion that made him ordinary, was rusting away with the ache that continued to pound and pound at this heart.
Byakuran felt something wet roll down his cheek.
When he glanced up at the sky, the clouds were parted. The sky was blue. The sun was shining. Not a single gray cloud was in sight.
Then... he reached up and touched his face.
Wet.
Byakuran was crying... and the feeling was absolutely terrifying.