Warning: There will be graphic violence and some other darker themes of the mind in this chapter.
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Alice was trembling, her cotton candy pink eyes trembling with shock at Dorian's death. Her heart thudded, stopping for a moment before speeding up rapidly in response to the adrenaline released through her blood.
Him, her brother?
"No way..." she whispered, shuddering at the cold void that was the demons eyes, the fury in them despite his icy demeanor traumatizing to witness.
Him, her brother?
This demon, that half-breeds brother?
Him?
"No way," she repeated again, falling to her knees in response to Ryosei's approach towards both her and Rucardo, only stopping with a cold expression on his face as he remarked, "You know, vampire half-breeds are a real pain—and I should know since I live with one every day. But seriously, can you please just stay dead?"
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Dorian's head rapidly connected back to his neck, the blood that had splattered across and along the walls of the alleyway forming strands that connected the head that still laid within Ryosei's grasp fuse to his body, but not fully, as Ryosei refused to let it go.
His green eyes opened up, his sharp teeth grit into a snarl as he growled in a garbled and half formed voice, "Let go of my head you b*st*rd! Did you really think that a mere newborn demon could kill me—"
Ryosei ripped his head from the threads of blood, his expression apathetic save for the fury that seemed to emanate from his black eyes, his tone calm as he snorted, "Do you really think that the b*st*rd half-blood son of what can only be a low ranking vampire has anything against the protégée of a hybrid like my master? Hate to break it to you, but her sheer tenacity is worlds ahead of yours."
The arm that had been ripped off by him connected back to its socket, the sound of bones shifting and flesh reestablishing its connection all that was heard in the silence and Ryosei frowned a little; the rat's regeneration wasn't something he could make light of.
He searched for an option to stop it while the tether between the rat's head and his neck was established yet again, causing him to scream bloody murder in Ryosei's face.
Ryosei was not swayed—he'd heard worse trash talk from Eika on a regular basis for going on four months, an idiots mad screams were hardly demoralizing. But they were annoying. His black eyes caught sight of his other arm, which hand remained unattached despite the clear wound. His eyes flickered to see the severed hand; it was completely frozen solid, fractures lining where it had been broken off from the rat's body.
"Ah," he murmured softly, a smile gracing his face, "so that's how."
He turned back to the head, releasing it with a smile; he was going to enjoy this immensely.
Dorian's head retreated to his neck, his expression wary of Ryosei's change in expression—he was also ticked off by it.
Seriously, what genes did that family have to make a literal guy still look that attractive when he was splattered with Dorian's blood?? Why did blood look good on a demon anyway? Was it an aesthetic that came with the job description?
Dorian wasn't sure, but he was sure as Hell annoyed and ready to rumble with the pretty boy who looked like he hadn't fought a day in his life.
'But...' he grabbed his neck hesitantly, his green eyes glowing with fear as he vividly remembered the experience of his flesh ripping as easily as a candy wrapper and everything growing unfathomably dark, 'that's not the grip of someone who isn't prepared to kill.'
In his eyes, Ryosei's face was shadowed, a demonically wide smile that looked suspiciously like how Eika's gets when she's about to hunt on his face and his eyes were obscured, and a singular red circle was all that was known to him.
'Just what on earth has he had to face to get such a deadly aura?'
In truth, it was twelve parts rage, three parts being nearly killed by Eika repeatedly, two parts hunger, and six parts of suppressing his emotions and demonic impulses for an entire month as they'd slowly grown more intolerable. But, truly, he was indescribably furious at the thought of these lowlifes even daring to touch the only family whom he cared for.
That same cold feeling from before at the mall began to build in him yet again, except he was hardly against suppressing it at the moment, especially when he agreed with the temptation it presented before him.
'Kill them... destroy them, render all to frost and fury...'
A strange serenity passed through Ryosei as Dorian rushed him, a blade generated from his blood ready to slash at Ryosei in his one good hand.
"Nii-san!" Fuyumi called out in terror at the thought of her older brother being hurt, only for her concerned expression to stiffen at her brothers expression and the actions he took while showing it.
Ryosei effortless dodged the first downward swing, the sword lessons he'd taken back in Japan as a child presenting themselves as he parried the blade with nothing but his bare hand to redirect it.
He was smiling, his grin setting Dorian on edge because of the confidence and force behind each of his actions, both of which were reflected in his smile; he was enjoying this. He was enjoying breaking Dorian without having even moved a step from the position he'd previously advanced to when he'd stopped from Dorian's regeneration.
This led to Dorian being careless, thrusting too far, too fast, and too powerfully towards Ryosei, who then proceeded to grab his wrist, shattering it as the bone fragments burst through his own hand, but Ryosei did not care; this was nothing like the pain and suffering his sister had gone through but a few moments ago.
The thought tore the smile from his face, his expression one of complete apathy before he froze all of the blood in Dorian's arm slowly, painfully, and even counter to his blood flow, a forced grin on his face as he whispered to Dorian as he screamed from pain, "You know this pain you're feeling now? This pain is 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 compared to the trauma and pain you've caused Fuyumi. Repay fully in Hell, you sh!t bag."
With those parting words, he ripped his head off yet again, freezing it and his neck entirely, forever memorializing the expression of agony in frost.
Once again he approached the frozen youth, with Rucardo turning to bang against the wall of ice Ryosei had set up, desperate to free himself, only for the ice to creep up his body slowly but surely, as certain as a virus. Rucardo didn't care—he was too blinded by terror to care as he pounded away at the walls, his hands becoming like a lizard's as rough blue scales appeared.
But the ice held, and his hands steadily became encased in ice mercilessly.
"Break!" he screamed as death approached him, "Break!"
"There's no use Rucardo," the soft reply came from Alice who still sat on the ground, an empty look in her cotton candy pink eyes as she spoke, "We messed up the minute we let Dorian touch her, let alone trying to take her from him. He's the protective type of brother."
The image of her gray haired, pink eyed brother screaming for her to run from their father as he attempted to kill them ran through her mind. The image of her older brother who'd fought so desperately to save her useless, hideous self lapped over the image of Ryosei protecting his younger, beautiful sister.
"'Alice,' she remembered him saying while she cried over her scarred face, "'you'll always be beautiful to me—don't worry, I'll always be by your side, until the end.'"
"'You're just saying that!' she'd cried, "'No one would ever love an ugly monster like me!'"
"'Silly thing,' he laughed while hugging her gently, "'what matters is the heart, not the face! Never change Alice, and when you face your end, face it with the smile, as a Petrov should!'"
'Sorry Ivan,' she thought, tears surfacing in her eyes as she gazed at the destroyer who stood over her, 'I changed. Will I see you again? Probably not; Heaven's for angels like you, not for monsters like me...'
Alice smiled at him, tears falling down her face. She wouldn't apologize, she wouldn't whimper—it was not the way she was; it was not how a Petrov would do things.
"You know," she murmured softly, her expression tranquil as Ryosei raised his hand to decapitate her, "the other two that left, Kuro and Lucilian, didn't want her to be hurt—so when you eventually meet more of us freaks one day, spare them at least. It's only right for the ugly to die young, don't you think?"
Ryosei stared down at her impassively, merely raising his hand higher.
"You know," she smiled even more, the scar seemingly not present at all as her pure smile drowned it all out, leaving who she once was before the envy and the hate clouded her heart and mind, "your little sister is really pretty. You better protect a treasure like that."
The cold still remained in Ryosei as he heard the heartfelt words, but he still had enough of his mind to reply gently to the girl who offered no fuss, "I'll keep that in mind; I don't want her to end up lost like you."
"That's a relief—after all, I'm a bit of a b!tch."
Ryosei's hand fell, severing her neck with a swing of his hand; he made sure it was not particularly painful for the girl who had resembled his sister too much in certain ways. The blood splattered onto him and the sheets of ice surrounding him, dying the whiteness of him with droplets of crimson and ruby that glistened in the dimness of the alleyway, staining his clothes.
The last one, Rucardo, continued to punch and scream at the wall, his back faced away from the reaper that was Ryosei. Blood slipped from Ryosei's hands, dyeing the ground beneath him red as he turned, grabbing the severed head of the lowlife who had dared to touch Fuyumi before turning to face the one who was screaming like a child.
He tossed the head like a ball, cocking his arm back as he aimed at the last ones head, his expression once again apathetic; the crying was annoying...
"I don't wanna die! Please, someone save me, save me!"
"Unfortunately, I am unable to acquiesce with your request; please stand by, this'll only be a moment. Goodnight."
He threw the ball, instantly breaking the sound barrier, and the final words of, "I don't want to die," from the nuisance were cut short, much to Ryosei's relief. Seriously, he thought he was going to get a migraine at the way the sound of his cries grated at him.
He turned to Fuyumi's still figure nonchalantly, his expression peaceful as he approached her before he looked down at his clothes with a scowl—they were all ruined from the blood that had splashed on him. He huffed with annoyance; he'd have to apologize to Eika and do some serious dry-cleaning to get out the stains.
"Dang," he remarked, "there goes my allowance. Oh well, I guess I'll have to negotiate when she gets back, whenever that is. Anyhow, let's go home Yumi—now that you know what I am, and I was hoping to break it to you more gently, I can travel on the rooftops till you're—"
{"Break it to me gently?"}
Fuyumi's voice was soft, and when she looked up from her feet, fear swirled in her blue eyes. Ryosei startled, his expression softening with genuine worry as he approached her at a snail's pace in hopes of not scaring her any more, his voice gentle as he whispered, {"Fuyumi, are you okay? C'mon, come with me to my home, and then we can talk properly, okay?"}
{"No," she stumbled back, shaking as she held herself and stammered with her eyes wide with fear towards him, "you were smiling. When you were killing those people, you were smiling like it was no big deal. Ryosei, I saw you rip off two people's heads and throw one at the skull of another, and you expect me to follow you, no problem?"}
Ryosei felt an odd sense of indignation burble up from within as he was confused; he'd just saved her from getting hurt by trash, and now she was acting fairly unreasonable in his mind.
{"Fuyumi,"} he began again, his expression slightly tense, {"You've just gone through an extremely traumatic experience—let me take you home, get some food and rest in you, then we'll talk, okay—"}
{"No!"} she yelled, her expression one of terror, horror, and now anger, {"The most traumatizing part of this was watching my older brother murder three people and wind up annoyed at how they stained his dress shirt! Ryosei, do you know how terrifying it is to look at a person you've known your whole life, and for them to not act like themselves?!"}
She took a deep breath, her voice quavering as she muttered with tears falling from her eyes as her emotions overwhelmed her, {"You look like him; smile like him; laugh like him; talk like him; even walk like him; but honestly? I'm not sure if you're really him at this point. After what happened to mom... I know that my older brother would never kill someone so remorselessly."}
Her words struck a cord with Ryosei, his black eyes paling into blue finally as they widened, his expression falling as he intoned quietly, brokenly, his voice cracking as tears welled in his eyes, {"Fuyumi... I—...."}
{"Please,"} she whispered, turning from Ryosei as she staggered away from him and back to the crowd, feeling numb at the events that had occurred, {"leave me alone right now Ryosei. I need to sort this out..."}
Everything went cold at Fuyumi's words.
He couldn't move; he couldn't speak; he couldn't even breath.
Her slow, unsteady footsteps resounded like the bang of a gavel in a court room in Ryosei's head, the verdict proclaimed loud and clear as tears silently fell down his cheeks.
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Ryosei was the worst person when it came to blame. He wasn't the type to blame the one's that were really responsible if it came to him, and when the others he loved were hurt, he carried some of the responsibility of allowing it to happen in the first place on his shoulder.
He was the worst kind when it came to his own problems, because even if he was innocent, in his mind, he was always the guilty one; this time wasn't an exception—as soon as he saw the devastation on his sisters face when she'd looked at him, the verdict was already determined.
It was his fault; it was all his fault.
It was his fault for being born, and therefore sparking conflict between his parents, which had continued until his sister was born and even after that, scarring her.
It was his fault for letting the 'kind' stranger into his house in the middle of the snow storm, which in turn led to his mothers untimely demise and traumatized Fuyumi terribly.
It was his fault his family was broken; it was his fault that he died; it was his fault he was a demon; it was his fault for inviting Fuyumi to America; it was his fault for losing her in the crowd or even letting her come to the market; it was his fault she was assaulted; it was his fault that three people were dead; it was his fault that Fuyumi was scared and sad.
It was his fault.
It was all his fault.
Frost seemed to creep up his body, an emptiness opening up inside of him as he went numb. Cold, it was so, so cold. He was freezing, but he didn't care.
Whether he lived or died right now, he didn't care; all that mattered was that is was his fault, and that he had ruined the last familial connection of meaning to him, because he existed only to hurt those whom he loved the most.
'I don't care whether I live or die right now—I just want everything to disappear, to stop, to freeze. I don't wanna have to deal with this pain anymore, just please, please, everything, please, stop!'
A guttural sob tore from his throat as the frost reached his heart, tears falling from his eyes as everything overwhelmed him; he was alone without his mentor, his sister was terrified of him now, he'd killed three people, and nothing was right. Nothing was "alright", and this time, there was no Verkoria to snap him out of his ruminations.
The frost finally consumed him, and suddenly it was like he was sinking in a deep, deep ocean, everything distorted and the sound muffled. It was cold, and dark, and so, so comfortable for the Ryosei who just wanted to be alone at the moment.
He let his mind begin to sink into the blissful oblivion.
There was no stimuli from the annoying humans, no broken Fuyumi, no missing master, no friends, and certainly no Verkoria.
A smile graced his face as he fell into the cold ocean, embracing the feel of it all, the tranquility of simply floating and not having to think about what was wrong, what was right, and what he was.
'Sweet oblivion...'
As Ryosei sank into oblivion, the world froze.
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Alternative Title to the chapter: It was all his Fault.