Haunted; preoccupied, as with an emotion, memory, or idea; obsessed:
July, 22
War has been declared upon Jiyuu.
The luminous light of the moon paved the way for the road. The quiet chippers of birds, and sounds of the silent breeze passing by them with the noise of rocks scraping against each other each step they took filled the silence between them. His eyes kept darting towards Misako. Her light pink hair swaying through the wind, her clothes seemed unmoving even while they had been walking for a while. He found her… Well, intriguing to say the least. Countless questions ran through his mind. Was she truly doing this out of the good of her heart? Was she doing this in hopes of receiving something in return? Questions left unanswered by her. She was truly an enigma that couldn't leave Sychar's mind.
"Why did you offer to help me?" He asked suddenly, catching Misako off guard by the question. He kept walking forward, but he could hear the soft mumble of her voice behind him. He paused for a moment.
"Ah…" She stopped in her tracks. The rocky path beneath her caused her to stumble a little, and the faint echoes of the night breeze passed. When he heard her footsteps halted, he looked back at her, emerald green eyes peering right at her. They were an arms length away from each other, a sudden gust of wind breezed past them, disheveling her hair. But she didn't move nor react. Her mind blanked at that moment, and teal was covering her world for a moment.
Her train of thought had caught up to her immediately causing her to mumble out, "I couldn't have left you there."
He hadn't been expecting an answer, he stared at her for a brief moment, an unexplainable look in his eyes. His lips curved into a smile, yet it didn't reach his eyes.
Stupid.
"Then is that all the basis which is needed to aid those in your eyes? I say, there is no dignity within you. Then again, being a Martyr does suit your pretty face." His stare filled with malicious intent. He challenged her to say something, say anything. He watched the way her eyes narrowed in on him. Her glaring at him in indignation brought a drum of excitement crawling on his spine. God, He loved the look of her challenging gaze.
"Those whose ideals don't align, don't have the right to scrutinize another's morals." She stated calmly, with her ocean eyes looking at him with pure resolve. His lips curving up into a smirk hearing her answer.
"Heh. I'll take that answer."
"Where are you taking me anyways?" He asked with a wide smile plastered on his face, he followed behind her like a lost puppy. He kept his distance from her while they walked, but she could feel his gaze burning into her back. It was very unnerving.
"Somewhere." She answered vaguely. Her arms folded in front of her kimono, she walked with grace, and poise. A true epitome of a delicate petal. Elegant, and demure. Though, her vague words gave him skepticism of her true motives.
"Don't kill me." He sarcastically replied, A smile curved on his features. his eyes showing a hint of amusement seeing the furrow of her eyebrows.
"I'm not one to take my dignity for granted. Committing such acts is out of my jurisdiction." She said while crossing her arms. She now seemed to be wary of him. Which meant she wasn't so unaware of her situation at least.
"Haha! Don't worry. I don't believe you would stoop so low to do that." He seemed to be in a much better mood than before. She looked at him in complete confusion. At first he seemed to mock her, then became suspicious of her, and now they seem to have some type of civility with each other. She then opened her mouth, seeming to want to say something but the words were muddled in her tongue.
She turned around, "You are a confusing man." She mumbled out.
"Hm? What did you say? I didn't catch that?"
"We're almost there." She hurriedly said, and sped up her pace. His eyes followed her every move discreetly behind her.
…
A jingle came from the sound of the door, the person at the counter almost immediately lit up seeing Misako at the door.
"Oh my, Oh my! Misako, dear! I never expected to see you here." The old lady at the counter said with a large smile wrapped on her face.
"Ah, hello grandma Masami." Misako's honey silk voice livened up the room.
"Why are you here dear? It's so late now… Oh! Who is your companyー" Her eyes made their way to Sychar, her smile fell immediately upon seeing him. "That's… He's a part of the Grekhー Misako!" She screamed at Misako with an anxious look on her face. Seeing her concerned face, Misako's heart softened.
"It's okay Grandma Masami. I understand you are uneased, but please you not need to be concerned for me. I'am of age now, and I have the choice to decide on my decisions." She held Masami's hands with a gentle smile. "Do you trust me?"
Masami's eyes showed a hint of discouragement, but she ultimately wavered. In the face of the child she watched grow up, she truly had a soft spot for her.
Misako took a deep breath, then made a request. "I would like a room decorated with Sakurasou's." Grandma Masami's eyes turned into a different kind of gaze, her face turned serious upon hearing Misako's words.
"Of course, right this way my dear." She pulled the curtains from behind the counter. Unveiling an ominous hallway.
As they stepped into the hallway, the musky scent of lust filled the hallway. Sounds of irritatingly high pitched giggles resonated from the rooms. Sychar almost immediately recognized what this place was.
A front for a house of prostitution, or much well known as a Brothel.
…
It was strange he was brought here. He believed she didn't even look like she could hurt so much as a fly, more or less frequent places such as this. It didn't fit the elegant demeanor she upheld.
Then the Grandma opened a door for the both of them. The irritatingly sweet smell of the room filled his nose, it smelt horrible.
"Here. I will bring out the pastries later." Her innocent smile contrasted to her actions.
They both sat on the futon, the eerie silence enveloping the two.
"The reason you had chosen this place?" He asked with confusion tainted in his words.
"The Guntai clan won't find us here." She calmly explained, "The Guntai clan doesn't know of the secrets in this place, and if ever… Why would anyone expect of a grandma to run a brothel?"
Well, her idea was sound, no sane person would believe that an innocent looking grandma such as that old hag would ever think of a person like her to be running a brothel, but he was no sane person. He never thought that this tea house would be such a place, perhaps it had been too long then. When he first made eye contact with the old woman, he knew. He saw from the way she calculated him, and observed him like prey. Her eyes glaring daggers at him as if she knew what his purpose was here. He was truly quite impressed by the Old hag, she definitely was much more than what she presents.
"You do know I'm a part of the Grekhi… Don't you?" He said with slight perplexity hinted at in the tone of his voice.
"Yes…" She quietly mumbed in embarrassment. She knew it was an extremely stupid decision, but she felt she just had to.
"Then why did you help me if you knew what situation you would be placed in? The fact that I could kill you right here, does not bother you? Had you become short-sighted in your decision? or were you so foolish to lead a member of the Grekhi to a place such as this, on… Perhaps on an impulse of sorts."
His words were hitting her head on like a freight train, yes, it was a remarkably humiliating, senseless, and ludicrous choice she made, but he had no right to be so precise in his judgment.
"I…" Any sane words died quickly in her throat as she scrambled to make a decent thought in her mind to spill out. "It was just on a whim."
That was truly the most nonsensical sentence she has ever said in her life… Perhaps it was time for her to take a new different perspective in life, maybe live in a different nation where she could do some soul searching, because this day proved to herself how she was turning delirious, and insane.
His eye's glimmered in curiosity, she had done something so terribly out of her character that he truly had all his attention on her.
"You…"
"Are truly stupid!" He burst out laughing, causing Misako to quickly be humiliated under his words.
"Don't start. If I hadn't saved you, you would be a head on a stick being paraded around the capital's streets!" She quickly refuted, the atmosphere in the room being light-hearted with… Strange banter. But it was definitely progress in their relationship.
As her cheeks returned to its original color, she noticed he still hadn't removed the fox mask on his face.
"You can remove your mask." She casually said, a hint of curiosity lingered in the back of her mind.
He slowly unveiled his mask, revealing his dark violet hair. Then her gaze wandered to his own.
She stared in shock as he revealed himself. Her heart dropped at the sight of him. She saw the glimpse of her past. The memories she had promised to forget all of those years agoー Her first love, her everything, and… Her only regret in life, him. The features she had lovingly memorized were all too familiar. Though the longer she focused on him, she had noticed something was wrong. His features were an uncanny resemblance to his, but there was something extremely wrong, like an unnerving difference she couldn't make out…
Then, her eyes made their way to his own.
A pair of dark emerald eyes. A most beautiful shade of green, but lacking its luster, the shine that he always had. That was not him. That couldn't be him. It was impossible, she remembered how his eyes always shone under the night as if he were a part of the sky itself. He was truly the brightest star she had ever met, ever burning with passion, and ambition. That was the part of him she had loved the most.
And… His hair. His hair was raven black, reminiscent of a dark room on a rainy day, with silky smoothness, long enough to reach his shoulders. She enjoyed the feeling of locks of hair skillfully being braided under her touch. Though, the man she was looking at had short, dark violet hair. It couldn't be…
But she couldn't deny it. Was it him? Was he the man she had mourned for?
"Ryu…" She muttered under her breath, her eyes widened in horror. She felt as if her heart was beating out of her rib cage, and her words were caught in her throat. She didn't know if she could face him. Not after everything that had happened, not after she had thought she had healed. She was slowly descending into a state of madness, and it was not long until she broke under the weight of her own emotions.
His eyes had caught every detail of her moves, the slightest twitch in her fingers, down to her disoriented breathing.
"Ryuji…"
"Hm?" He said with a frown on his face, why had she called him the wrong name? He thought to himself.
"I'm not Ryuji."
.
.
.
.
"I'm not Ryuji." "I'm not Ryuji." "I'm not Ryuji." "I'm not Ryuji." "I'm not Ryuji."
"I'm not Ryuji." "I'm not Ryuji." "I'm not Ryuji." "I'm not Ryuji." "I'm not Ryuji."
His name repeated over, and over in her head. How long had it been since she uttered his name from her lips? That was not a question to be asked, as she knew, It had been 3 years, 6 months, 28 days, the last she had dared to say his name. The day she weeped cries to the night, mourning her loss. She just couldn't handle it anymore, she couldn't stand being in the same room as him, as all the feelings she withheld in her heart were spilling out of her like an overflowing mess. She quickly stood from the futon, and made a beeline to the door. The golden lights, and others crashing into her turned blurred. She could barely register the distant voice of Grandma Masami calling out to her but she ignored it. She just had to run away fast, far from here, far from him.
She knew it had been a terrible decision to return to the capital. He just haunts her in every corner.
…
He stood at the door frame, watching as her silhouette became lost in the night sky. He found her character strange, she was a strange being all together. It was like she was a puzzle that didn't fit anywhere. A singular fish in a zoo for mammals. She didn't fit in the story he had built for himself, a variable he hadn't accounted for, or a variable he had forgotten to account for.
He sighed to himself, then sat back on the cushion futon. Treading his fingers through his hair, he stared at the blinding orange overhead light above him. He wondered how this story would unfold.
…
Tears welled up in her eyes as she kept running without any ambition. Only a passion to run away, from him, from everything. She cried anguish tears to the skies, hoping for once that she could finally escape from everything she had tried to get rid of. Every memory, every sound, every voice filled her head. Her pace slowly stopped as she arrived on the concrete road again, coming to a halt as a familiar place came into her view.
A cherry blossom tree sitting aimlessly in the side. She stared at the tree with contempt. She hated that tree, as much as she hated the memories. The petals fall delicately to the floor, looking for its natural home. It was deceiving, she couldn't stay here for longer. Or else, perhaps the sound of soft laughter, and the loving stares. As she threaded her fingers on his smooth jet black hair. The soft humming of a tune filled the silence between them, and the vague sound of clothes rustling resounded.
"Mio…" A voice whispered to her. She looked down at the man below her, as his emerald eyes shining with a glint of joy danced around. "Hm?" She said with a sing-songy voice, she could see the way he melted by her honey-like voice.
"Your hair is of the same color as the trees." He held out a fallen petal to her hair, and the color was almost the same match.
"Huh… So it is." She said, smiling and laughing. His eyes softened seeing her laugh, he loved hearing the sound of her voice. The dimples on her face revealed itself as she smiled, She looked radiant under the sun. Her light pink hair shining a golden hue of the sun's rays. The sun's glow gleaned a halo-like light behind her. Her appearance, taking the form of an angel that fell just for him. He was so sure he was so bewitched that moment he was sure not a witch could pull him out of 9his love sicken trance.
He would never exchange anything in this world for this moment, no matter the riches, and golds that could be given to him, he would still choose her.
But, he had no choice. He had to pay the price of his sins, in the face of the judgements of the Gods, he made the decision. One that will forever destroy, and erase himself off the face of the earth as Ryuji.
She wanted to give up everything in the world to forget this moment. He left her. He abandoned her in this unforgiving world. She had loved him for 10 years. How could he have carelessly forgotten about her? She thought to himself for 3 years, that she was not enough for him. She just never could understand him, he did things unconventionally, and made decisions erratically, but that was what she loved about him the most. Now, she doesn't have anyone to worry over, it seems now, she has to think for herself.
The quiet whistles of the wind breezed past her like a chilling freeze. She hated the cold, more so, that it was reminiscent of the weather the day she had lost him.
…
Grandma Masami watched as Misako ran out of the door, the sound of her trailing footsteps being lost. She knew something happened between them, and she wasn't going to stand idly by.
She stormed in the room, angrily pushing the sliding doors off to the side. She saw the man sitting on the futon, she stepped infront of him and she swore she had seen a ghost.
"Old hag." He said with disdain in his eyes.
The moment she looked at him, she knew why Misako had left. She was staring at a carbon copy of Ryuji. The child she lovingly watched over, as the two played together in the tea house, while eating their favorite desserts together, that Ryuji. Only now, he was taller, seemingly older. Though, his eyes presented a different meaning. His eyes were dull without light within them. It was strange to her, perhaps when she had last seen him off for Konet, he was still a child in her eyes. A boy glowing with hope, and courage. A child with a bright future ahead of him, alongside a beautiful wife to accompany him. Yet now, she was staring at a man with a looming shadow of pridefulness, and corruption. With a future that was far gone.
"Is he really Ryuji?"
"I'm not Ryuji." He said with an annoyed look on his face. He had just carefully curated her thoughts out of her mind.
"I know." She mumbled.
…
Staring out at the balcony of the Kokyuden, her palace, her house. Her raven black hair breezed across the wind. Her lifeless eyes staring out at the golden glow of the capital. She tilted her head to the sky, her eyes not being able to make out the tiny dots of stars in the sky. Perhaps it was her age getting to her, but in search of Gold, they had lost diamonds. She had lost her diamonds.
The shawl draped across her shoulders did little to nothing to help with the biting cold of the night. It was a terrible feeling, though in turn, the feeling of his shivering touch under her skin was worse. The terrored screams as she felt his hands snaking under the fabric of her clothes were frightening to her as a child, but now were nothing but a reminiscent feeling that has been long forgotten.
Her mind circled back to what had happened earlier in the Shuyoheya. That boy vaguely reminded her of someone so familiar. The child she had resented, the child she hated so much, the child she had. The fury exceedingly ran to her veins as the only thing she could think of when he looked at him was disdain. He had dark hair that was the exact same shade as her own. The only distinction were his eyes. The emerald green color shining in such innocence, and purity that it brought anger to her, as it should be hers. That purity was meant to be hers. She had lost the innocence she once held to him.
Once the child she sent off the Konet. She felt relief. It was better he was rid off, if not she would've done unexplainable horrors just to get him away from her. That was how much she loathed him.
Even if he had faked his death, or changed his identity, she couldn't have cared less. At Least now, to her, he was gone. Gone for good. She wouldn't have to gaze upon the very monstrosity she made.
Relive; to live through an experience or feeling, especially an unpleasant one, again in one's imagination or memory.