For some people, loneliness is a prize, something that has been sought for a long time in the face of the constant bombardment of stress imposed by society. They contemplate it as if it were a juicy ambrosia, a nectar that is divine on the lips as they unfold in their own world.
Some use it as a means of artistic inspiration, others as meditation, many many more as a dogma to live a life completely alien to everything, turning themselves into hermits.
Yes, loneliness is a powerful tool, but at the same time it is a dagger that plunges deep into other people's chests. People who yearn for company, for a caress or a word of support at the time of the test. There is nothing worse than the feeling of being around people, but still finding yourself alone.
The immaculate whiteness of the walls and the smell of clinical disinfectant, completely enveloped a young man who was sitting in front of a bed, where a woman rested whose life was sustained by mere devices. Like the cocoon of a butterfly, her chest twitched in spasm from the impulse of the artificial fan. With the dripping of the serum like a minute hand that announced the passing of the days in that enclaustrum.
Her long, straight black hair stretched across the white of the sheets and the contrast of the monitoring lines. The sound of the ECG had already become monotonous for a few years, most recently when the patient finally went into a deep coma, after having suffered a shock in the ICU.
For years, her body had become a prison, leaving her eyes only the ability to move and contemplate her surroundings. Heard from her, he rarely heard the murmurs of the staff who used to come to her room for monitoring. So becoming a sleeping beauty in her chambers was the last palliative in the face of bitter reality.
"You know mother, Yukino reminded me a lot of you." - Peeling an apple that no one is going to eat, the young man continued speaking with such calmness that it completely contrasted with his true personality. Hiro, the heir to the Yamaguchi clan, had been secretly visiting the hospital where his mother was staying for years.
Entered under a false identity, Hiro knew that many enemies of the clan would put their claws on her to make her fall. His only weakness in the midst of almost absolute power, this was valuable information for rival groups who wanted to take over the businesses that his father and he ran in the underworld.
With each pass of the razor's edge over the smooth skin of the fruit, Hiro evoked within his thoughts those memories of his distant childhood. He was just a one-year-old baby when her mother fell into critical condition due to the cruel mistreatment she suffered from Hiroki. That man lacking empathy or kindness in her heart, he delighted in intimidating the poor woman by making her feel miserable every day of her marriage.
Chief Hayate never spoke a word about it, with the years over and the disappointment suffered by the escape of Yukino's mother, that vigorous man was not even the shadow of what at one time was the head of the clan.
With no memory of a mother to yearn for, Hiro began searching through photo albums for the face of the one who had given birth to him. Repetitive images of two smiling girls seemed adorable for his young age. Filling him with curiosity about what he found so interesting to know. Asking the employees of the house, no one knew how to respond adequately to his concerns.
It seemed that every time he asked about it, an insurmountable wall of silence was raised in front of him. As if someone had ordered never to speak of the people in the photographs.
"Young master, do you want to know who these girls are" - With a kind plump face and a candid smile, with black eyes that made you feel a comforting tranquility when you saw them. Among the maids who still served the Yamaguchi household, Himawari was the one who had known the two young sisters the longest.
Sitting with the young master on her lap, contemplating the blue sky under the breeze of the spring wind, she Himawari told Hiro every day, as many stories as she could remember of the childhood and youth of the two young ladies of the home.
Day by day, Hiro got to know the woman who had been in the womb for 9 months more and more. Nurturing in her heart an incipient desire that she would recover from her affliction and they could spend as much time as necessary.
Thus a year passed between Himawari and Hiro, the maid waiting for him every day under the roof that adjoins the backyard of the mansion. Without fail, punctual to the appointment. The boy ran enthusiastically through the corridors of the old mansion to meet his friend and continue to hear childhood stories from his mother. Right after finishing intensive classes for the successor, with an innocent smile and eyes full of hope.
"I see that it was true what my men informed me" - Standing imposingly at the place where Himawari was to be found, the current head of the clan was shown with an angry expression at his son. Hiro for a moment tried to take a few steps back, but was soon taken by the shoulder by his father preventing him from leaving.
Full of fear, the poor boy felt his heart leap out of his throat at the overwhelming presence of his father. Hiroki was a man with a grim, evil gaze, capable of making even the bravest of warriors dread.
Controlling the trembling in his knees, the boy slowly walked alongside his father to the center of the backyard. Under the shade of a cherry tree in full bloom, a lump in the shape of a body lay on the ground. There was barely an unintelligible murmur from the cloth sack that gave the impression of crying out in supplication. But little momentum showed in his movements, as if he had suffered cruel punishment prior to their meeting.
"Has your master told you about the code of honor that the servants of the Yamaguchi house must observe?" - Hiroki turned towards Hiro's eyes, who stuttered answered his father as he nodded his head.
The clan chief took a bit from his belt and threw it onto the grass at Hiro's feet, who reflexively reached down to slowly pick it up from the ground. When he turned to see his father, he observed how that man made a gesture with his right hand pointing to the bulge that was in front of them.
"The duty of a clan successor is to discipline the servants at his disposal, if a servant fails to obey the order of his lord repeatedly, such a person does not respect the head of the family. So his place in the house must be cut without excuses. " - Saying those words with an unhealthy smile, Hiroki ordered his own son to end the life of the servant who was inside the sack.
He was only four years old, unaware of the horrors of living under the shadow of the Yamaguchi clan. At that tender age, the father who was never there for him, gave the most terrible order to a child thirsty for love and companionship. "Will Himawari still love me after doing this?" - Hiro thought as he approached the bulge while he groped hesitantly with his small left hand searching blindly for the neck of his victim.
A single blow would be enough not to make him suffer, was what his master of combat and physical defense had taught her. If he was forced to kill, he at least wanted to make it as painless as possible.
Feeling the throbbing flow of the artery through the fabric, Hiro buried the cold tanto blade through the flesh as guttural sounds were heard amid wailing and sobbing. The fabric of his sack changed from a white hue to an impressive crimson red as the blood flowed, completely soaking it.
A few seconds later, that body stopped squirming and was completely inert on the grass. Right behind him, Hiroki sarcastically applauded his son as he ordered his men to uncover the face of the condemned man.
As if he had looked straight into the abyss, Hiro opened his innocent eyes like a deer to his hunter. His lips trembled trying to hold back crying as he watched over and over her bloody hands, desperately seeking to wipe the blood off his clothes.
Inert on the ground, her eyes full of tears and her gaze lost, Himawari lay dead at the boy's feet. Who, taking hesitant steps back, collapsed on the grass as he stared in horror at what he had done.
The maiden's hands were mutilated, those hands that had lovingly caressed her head while he told her stories of her mother. The warm lap that once huddled him in that portico of the mansion, now was barren and cold, where there should have been a beating heart, life had abruptly ceased.
The blood flowed through the green grass to the feet of the young master, who in pain and frustration could not contain himself any longer and gave a piercing scream that echoed off the walls of the old mansion. He falling completely unconscious due to the strong impression that trauma made on his childish mind.
Still a bit stunned, Hiro sat up in front of what appeared to be his room. A few hours have passed since the incident that occurred in the backyard of the mansion, letting the moonlight pass through the windows.
The gloomy panorama of that room was more gloomy than usual, everything had changed so drastically in the life of the little boy. While other children have the freedom to cry in pain, he had to hold back his tears in that fiery place he called home.
Unable to fall asleep again, Hiro sat on his bed staring into space as the incessant image of Himawari's face replayed in his mind. As if he had been tattooed with burning fire in his subconscious.
The next morning a new stern-faced maid crossed the threshold of the room, walking slowly to position herself on the side of the bed. "Young master, it is time for her to prepare for her fencing lessons" - her hair was brown in an onion hairstyle, the edge of her face was angular and she was wearing circular glasses. . Very different in essence and face compared to the warmth of the extinct Himawari.
Like a stunned beast, Hiro dressed himself and followed the directions of the new governess his father had assigned him. The very presence of that woman was like feeling the threatening look of her father as a reminder that he was what was expected as her successor.
The trees shed their green leaves once more and spring returned to the Yamaguchi house, now the young master was five years old, close to six. For a long year, his feelings were suppressed deep in his heart. The photographs that he found at some point were burned on Hiroki's orders until not even the ashes were left. Leaving out any manifesto that might disturb the successor's balance in forming him as the future head of the clan.
Following his daily routine, Hiro went back and forth between the corridors of the great house without delay in the least. Except for one day in particular, as if something beyond his heart was calling from the backyard garden.
Under the shadow of the old cherry tree, a delicate silhouette with long black hair that fluttered in the wind, swayed on a swing that had been ordered by Hiroki. After Himawari's death, the cruel father forced the child to return to that place for a certain time every day to play on the swing in order to destroy his conscience.
Completely furious, Hiro quickly approached, grasping the handle of both his in order to deliver a lethal blow as soon as he was within reach of that intruder. Just as he was preparing to lash out, the sound of a furin hitting the breeze made the person on the swing look up from him. The expression in Hiro's gaze revealed a surprise that could not be described in words, to the point that the strength of his legs faded and he fell to his knees before that creature.
A girl with long hair and tender eyes brimming with purity, adorned with the subtle mark of sadness. "Mother?" - The boy murmured, who still couldn't believe what his eyes saw.
Her face was identical to the girl he saw every day in the photos that he contemplated with Himawari under the porch, it was as if she had left the frame of the image and now presented herself to him as a ghost from a past distant.
"Are you okay?" - Gently extending her hand, the girl leaned a little to help her up. Hiro was still stunned by that event, so he slowly reached out until the tips of his fingers brushed subtly.
"So they finally met?" - A voice with a severe tone was heard behind Hiro's back, who, knowing who it was, did not want to turn his face in the direction of such a man. To his surprise, the face of the girl in front of him had changed to a gloomy look that ranged between fear and anguish.
"She Her name is Yukino, she is your cousin. She From now on she will live in this mansion with us" - Continuing with her introduction, Hiroki continued speaking while the children stood at each other without saying a word. some.
Glancing at her, Hiro watched as Yukino's hands played with her fingers full of nervousness. Lowering his gaze without daring to even raise her face, Hiroki put her hand on the girl's head, pushing her violently against Hiro.
"She will be your playmate. Do what you want with her" - As soon as he finished saying those words, Hiroki left the backyard losing himself in the corridors of the mansion leaving them behind.
Still shaking like a cornered deer, Yukino could barely control his fear even though that man had already left the place.
"You must not fear, I will soon be the lord of this house and I will not allow anyone to harm you" - With a determined but warm voice, Hiro took Yukino by the shoulders, making her stop shuddering at that sincere show of confidence, even though he was younger than her.
Some years passed and the relationship of both children was flourishing with great impetus and strength, sharing their concerns and dreams, enjoying their innocence behind the back of that tyrant who hovered his threatening claws over them.
"You know mother, I was very happy with Yukino. After Himawari, I felt like my heart was empty. Hima-chi was the closest I had to the warmth of a mother and losing her almost drives me crazy. But Yukino was a table of salvation for me, as if you had sent it to me when I needed it most. But ... you already know me, I'm broken. If you opened your eyes now, would you still love the child you carried in your womb, even if this is a monster?" - A couple of tears fell on the sheets of the hospital bed, while Hiro squeezed his mother's hand tightly.
A long-held cry flowed from his eyes that had been darkened with the evil of his actions. The innocence of the lonely child who longed for the warmth of a mother, spilled into each tear as the ECG began to change drastically to a situation of arrest.
"Medicooo!" - Hiro shouted for help possessed by terror at that scene, the sound of the heart rate monitor did not stop sounding in critical condition alarm while the doctor and nurses struggled to stabilize the patient.
Those efforts gradually proved to be in vain, being 12:35 pm, the woman in room 201 had ceased to exist. Hearing the doctor dictate the time of death, Hiro collapsed on the ground bringing his hands to his head as he screamed at the top of his lungs.
"Nurse, take the family member to the visiting room to reassure him" - Taking him by his arm and supporting him on the back, the nurse lifted Hiro who would not stop crying like a child who has been snatched from his mother's arms.
A few minutes passed, a little over half an hour. After crying with all his might, Hiro looked like a soulless doll prostrate on the couch in the waiting room. Crossing the door, the doctor carried the documents of the patient's death certificate in his hands, seeking to collect the signature of the relative to authorize the preparation of the body in order to give the funeral service.
With torpid movements, Hiro held the pen while he inscribed his signature on the documents in such a mechanized way that it looked like a puppet whose strings have become tangled. Without strength or strength, the man got up and walked completely stunned to the doors of the hospital where his bodyguards were already waiting for him.
"Carefully sir" - Opening the car door to help him get in, one of the bodyguards placed his hand on Hiro's shoulder, who upon feeling that touch turned his gaze towards him and outlined a grin on his face that contrasted with the anguish that overflowed his gaze.
"I'm completely alone" - exclaimed the young man, as he got into the car to go to the funeral home where the ritual would take place. Hours passed and people gathered at the funeral service, while paying their respects to Hiroki as head of the Yamaguchi clan. The old Hayate was not in that place, upon learning of Shizu's death he entered into a crisis causing his senile dementia to aggravate to the point of leaving him bedridden.
Hiro, on the other hand, was secluded in a corner of the hall where the funeral rite was held. Distant from everyone, intoxicated by the aroma of incense, the young man lost himself in his thoughts as he glanced at the coffin where the body of his mother was.
There was no place for him there, there was no one for him to console him or understand his pain. All alone, he walked to the door of the compound and went outside. Gazing up at the night sky, two silhouettes soon approached him. Getting out of a limousine with government emblems, Isas and Akane Kojima approached the dejected Hiro, who said nothing as Isas bowed his head in respect.
Akane approached Hiro's shoulder, causing him to remove her hand in a fit of anger that was watched by the attendees arriving at the venue.
Enraged by that incident, Akane restrained her anger from her and smiled subtly at those present as she pushed Hiro from behind to a distant place if he was a rag doll.
"You really are so pathetic" - Throwing him on the ground, Akane stood in front of Hiro with a domineering attitude that anyone who saw her would think that she was the heir to the Yamaguchi clan. Pulling a cigarette case from her purse, she lit a cigarette for a puff as she berated the future clan master for losing her composure.
"Mother is gone, even she is gone. I'm completely alone" - Stammering like a child, Hiro was still sitting on the floor making Akane rage who could not believe what his eyes saw.
The always dignified and wild Hiro was like a wreck, devoid of all presence as if it were a shadow. Akane was on the edge of his patience when he leaned down to firmly grasp the young man's chin to make him look him in the eye by force.
"My father's plans have not been fulfilled yet, you little shitty boy. And while my ambitions are not consumed you are going to do what I tell you" - Throwing him on the floor, Akane took a few steps leaving behind Hiro, who was trying sit up in his lethargy. Watching him over her shoulder, the dashing woman clicked her tongue as she pulled out a photo from her purse that she tossed on the floor.
"If you've lost the will to live because of that bitch, you'd better take a vacation to the north. You might find something to revitalize you to continue with our damn cretin plan" - Walking away to the funeral parlor, Akane left behind. to Hiro. Who still groggy with pain was curious about the photo crumpled on the floor.
When he put her hands on her, the moonlight lit her little by little until it revealed her image completely. As if she had gone back in time, an emotion enveloped her heart once more like years ago.
In the photograph, a young woman with silver hair and a left eye patch was seen leaving a university in the northern regions of Japan.
"Thank you mother" - A smile spread across Hiro's face, as his eyes were infused with worldly sentiment as he squeezed the photo with his fingertips.
Meanwhile deep in a Hokkaido forest, two menacing silhouettes dueled, blow with blow, shaking the silent autumn night.
"You have improved a lot of street cat, but you still do not have the level to give me a single blow" - It had been six months since Vargas took Yukino as a disciple in the abandoned temple. During the day she attended college and in the afternoons she took a shift at a cafeteria as a part-time job.
Only leaving the nights as a space to train her skills in the company of Vargas, the guardian Pez Vela. Even if it was difficult, Yukino diligently attended her training with the priestess in order to complete her affinity to break even.
"You are still so arrogant damn dwarf, let's see if this is your size: Razor fly Lumen fang" - Extending his arms in mid-flight, throwing them forward drawing a cross, a burst of light was projected cutting the branches of the trees oscillating dangerously even the priestess, who took that hard blow squarely.
The dust and snow from the tree branches evaporated into a haze that made it difficult to see if the target had been hit. Completely confident, Yukino lowered her guard and deactivated her spirit armor as she descended into the snow on the ground.
Just then a pair of her hands held her, slicing her legs from the knee down, falling bloody on the floor as she screamed in pain. Looking up at her, she watched as Vargas juggled her severed legs as she laughed playfully.
"Not bad kitty, but as I repeat it to you. You still have a long way to go to reach an acceptable level of combat" - They change his face to a more serious demeanor, Vargas threw his legs at Yukino so that he would begin to heal while she was headed to the temple.
Once again meeting in the old tea room, Vargas puffed on her pipe as he listened to dialogue from a comedy show he tuned in on television.
"Why do you have a television if you are more blind than a mole?" - Sipping a cup of tea, Yukino annoyed the priestess who kept listening to her entertainment program. Ignoring her as she got up to walk to a dusty old chest of drawers in the corner of her room.
Taking a sealed wooden box she threw it at Yukino's face, breaking his nose on impact. "And what use are your eyes to you if you can't see something as simple as that?" - Taking one more puff on her pipe, Vargas told Yukino that he should give that box to Hanabi as soon as he saw it.
This was a special commission that he had secretly given her a couple of months ago, with particular emphasis on keeping Yukino from finding out. With some skepticism, she took that box and put it in her backpack, seeing in horror the time on her clock, she said goodbye to Vargas, rushing down the stairs of the old sanctuary.
It was past 2 a.m. and his first class on campus began at 7 a.m. If she didn't hurry, she would end up running late with hardly any time to go to her house and deliver Vargas's order to Hanabi.
Pedaling her bike on the cold concrete of Kanjo Avenue, Yukino exhaled the mist of her breath as she propelled her body in front of her to gain speed and reach the apartments. It was at that moment that untimely a girl stepped out in front of her causing her to lose control of her crashing against the ground avoiding colliding with her.
"Onee-san, are you okay?" - A little girl with brown skin crouched before Yukino, who she felt as if she had broken some ribs when she fell from that way from the bicycle. Releasing a sigh of relief when she saw that the girl was without any scratches, she with a little effort she sat on the stool while she thought why a girl was alone in the middle of the night.
"Little one, are you lost?" - With a kind smile Yukino tried to approach the girl, who extended her hand holding the hand of the young guardian. Only for later she smiled grimly.
"No, Onee-san. But you are" - Yukino's prosthetic hand soon gnawed away as the girl held it, causing terror to invade the guardian to the point of activating her lumen fang and ending up slicing the prosthesis by the unions.
"My, my. Those are good reflexes miss. I must admit that I am surprised that you are more assertive than the other stupid that I have murdered so far. My name Vanessa Louerio and I am known as the floats. And tonight, it is you funeral." - The girl's silhouette soon became that of a voluptuous adult woman, whose body was covered by an armor similar to the spiritual armor of the Loa.
A battle for survival was about to be fought in the quiet and peaceful streets of Hokkaido.