United States of America, New York 22:00 PM
As the glass shards littered the front seat, cold air blew into the luxury car, the flickering lights of New York night life reflected against the man in the back seats red hair. Blowing roughly in the breeze as he looked on blankly, bright green eyes like stars in the night sky. Not noticing the birds nest of a hair style he was left with.
As the car drove to a main road, mostly empty except for a few homeless men sleeping and a drunk singing. Unclenching his tightly fisted hand he unconsciously swiped at his trouser leg,removing shards of glass from his clothes.
"Stop the car." He said calmly, ignoring the probing and confused looks of his assistant.
"But Mr. Stan-"
"I don't recall you providing me a pay check... since when does an employer listen to the commands of an employee?" Sneering.
"Mr Cristian! What about the conference tomorrow?" The shivering assistant said righteously.
"Oh since when were we on a first name basis? My own sister doesn't even call me that." He muttered to himself, leaning his palm littered with red crescent moon indents against his cheek.
"You don't have a sister." He said confusedly, making Cristian's eyes darken with aggression.
"Dan stop here... and you-my assistant, if you don't want your head blown up to pieces to be left as a stain on another mans clothes." Gesturing to slumped corpse laying on the dashboard. "You better watch your mouth, I know who my family is otherwise you'll make me think you don't need your tongue." He said quietly before walking off after slamming the door. Leaving his flustered and pale faced assistant holding on to his seat, trying to control his bladder.
Getting out of the car he listened to slight tinkling of glass shards that fell on the cold concrete, shrugging off his blazer and unbuttoning the top buttons of his white shirt. Tossing it over his shoulder as he walked far from view, his slightly long and vibrant red hair tickling his eyes.
Away from the view of prying eyes, he stopped to a halt as he stood in the shadow of the lamppost that quivered slightly. Looking nonchalantly at the time on his watch, his brows slightly creasing as he closed his eyes. Blonde eyelashes trembling as he stood lost in thought.
Suddenly his eyes snapped open as his green eyes under the mop of red hair, jerked with a flash of yellow light.
'Shift.'
His pink lips forming a slight smirk before he completely vanished, the sound of the wind rustling his clothes couldn't be heard. As well as those bright green eyes like twinkling stars couldn't be seen, surely such an inconceivable thing couldn't have happened.
Simply a delusion or figment of one's imagination? Perhaps.
Japan, Kyoto 11:00 AM
With a longing look in his eyes and a sad smile, green eyes looked into the blue sky with a deep sigh. Sakura flowers peppered his hair and shirt as a willow cherry blossom tree loomed over the wall of a traditional Japanese mansion.
Caressing a woman's Kanzashi (hair accessory) in his pocket, his slightly callused fingers traced the shape of the delicate red flowers. Not caring how the silver tip could easily pierce his skin.
'Ume, don't make me wait anymore. Please remember me...Yu-chan'
As he stood in the small alleyway, surrounded by traditional Japanese houses lost in his own thoughts as his soft red hair shone attractively in the light. With his dishevelled suit, looking like a hung over salary man women watched the devilishly handsome man curiously.
Giggling to their friends as they walked carefully in their bright floral kimonos, taking in his sharp jawline and gorgeous broad shoulders with a narrow waist. Especially those eyes that sparkled like stars, unfathomable with swirls of green.
Unconsciously he began humming, whistling even remembering how his sister would smile even in her sadness. Soulless grey eyes looking at him blankly as she sung, choppy black hair stained with blood and sweat.
Remembering how he wiped her tears away from her cold cheeks, how she'd promised that they'd leave this place together. Sworn siblings.
A hospital gown framing her thin body soaked in sweat and a straight jacket, two sizes too big for her. Unsure of whether she was slowly losing her sanity or that 'Milo' really existed.
Listening to her promises as she unconsciously spoke in his mind, looking at her he just knew how similar to him she was. Different.
The Kobai (red plum blossom) silver Kanzashi (hair accessory) was the promise that she wasn't delusional. That they'd survive this.
Her tender voice hoarse and cracking, her eyes tearing against the bright white of the room. Tugging on the ankle chain, which chafed her raw skin.
An icy chill spread around him, as his eyes narrowed at the thought of those bitter days. Rubbing the thin scar across his palm with his fingers, a blood promise.
Slipping into a convenience store, where he bought a pair of fish flavoured onigiri (rice balls) and a bottle of water. Paying with ApplePay he ate ravenously, perched on a bike stand glaring at people who looked at him with hesitance. Grains of rice lingering on his face, swatted away on the back of his sleeve.
'Father would never expect that the heir to Stan Inc. would be reduced to such a state.'
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A middle aged woman dressed in a dark brown Kimono opened up the sliding doors to her young miss's room, aerating out the musky odour. Cleaning up the thin layer of dust and dirty duvets that had been barely used.
Light filtered into the simplistic and well organised room, showcasing the garden covered in white gravel. A curve of shrubbery and Japanese roses slightly hid the clear pond where multicoloured Koi fish swam, hiding behind the lotus leaves and roots that bloomed a bright pink. Circular stones through the middle lead deeper into the large courtyard, more similar to a small forest.
Hiding in the housekeepers shadow, Milo waited as she wiped away the dust and replaced Yuki's futon and quilt with clean ones. Sliding out silently as she was about to leave, sliding the door shut behind her as she left.
Looking at the oak dresser with no time left to spare, he quietly opened up the last drawer and slid his long fingers under the layers of western pyjamas. Retrieving out from the deep corner of the drawer a dirty, artists notepad.
Sliding under the Kotatsu as he placed it onto the table, he opened up the drawing pad and studied the artwork that was drawn.
Feeling a mixture of emotions as he suppressed the urge not to tear off a yellowed portrait of a certain blue- eyed bastard, that he'd seen in her memories before. When he managed to catch her off guard.
'How could she have fallen for this piece of shit.' Milo thought as a surge of jealousy burned him up from the inside.
Taking a deep breath he turned the page and held his breath, moving his hands away from the carefully drawn painting. A woman was sat down on the floor comfortably wearing a plain beige dress, a gentle smile on her lips as her chocolate brown eyes reflected feelings of what appeared to be love and care. Similar brown hair with traces of honey hugged her shoulder as it fell to one side.
Looking at it carefully with appreciation at how realistic the painting seemed, knowing she spent a lot of time on it. His chest tightened with guilt, knowing he'd seen something that was never meant to be seen by anyone.
In the past he'd done a lot of 'stalkerish' or shady things in the past. However, although he signed a contract saying how he wouldn't appear in front of her unless she called for him.
He had to cling to the one thing, or the one person that made him feel sane. Because he knew that she too was different, he knew if he hadn't met her he probably would have killed himself a long time ago.
The fact that he couldn't tell anyone his darkest secret that made him who he was, was a large weight on his heart. When she'd caught him lingering in her room, used her mind to unconsciously trap him there. He just had to get to know her.
Slipping the notebook back and repositioning the quilt of the Kotatsu, he quietly slipped out into the garden. Flicking his foot against the water, scaring nearby Koi as he ascended deeper into the ethereal garden.
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" Housekeeper, how about a cup of tea? Bring two cups will you?" An elderly man with white hair and pale grey eyes asked aloud to the man that stood nearby him, pruning the Japanese roses.
Whilst he played a game of Go with himself, a slight twinkle in his eyes as he fiddled with the grey fabric of his Yukata (a kimono for a man).
"Yes boss." He said with a slight bow removing his gloves and pair of scissors and heading back to the house slipping off his shoes.
Inspecting a rose that was freshly cut, he watched with a blank gaze as the housekeeper placed the tea set in front of him. Watching as he poured in the hot water fluidly, the water infusing to a light yellow colour and releasing a mild citrus scent.
Flailing his hand away, the housekeeper slightly hesitant bowed his head before retrieving his gardening gear and heading to the other-side of the mansion to continue his pruning.
Sniffing the flower in his hand and eyeing the low sugar treats he clicked his teeth.
"Are you not going to come out?" He said to no one in particular with a strong Japanese accent.
Waiting for a few seconds, only for no one to reply he narrowed his pale eyes across the beautiful garden. A dark aura emanated from him like violent waves, causing Milo to bite his lips in pain.
"Milo." His throaty voice called making his breathing hitch.
'Get out before I drag you out.' His voice echoed in his mind like the pounding of drums, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. As he clawed at his throat desperately,an illusion of shadowy hands strangling him warped his mind.
"Unfortunately I only have tea, although I'm sure you'd prefer something stronger like Saké perhaps?" He asked eloquently, a kind smile blooming on his face as he clenched the rose tightly in his wrinkled hands. The shredded petals turned to ash, a flicker of a black flame lighting the flower on fire. Watching it slip through his fingers like sand.