By Nadya Neklioudova, written late at night, or rather, very, VERY early in the morning of April 8, 2000.
I don't own Aya or anyone else from "Weiß Kreuz" - Koyasu Takehito and Project Weiß do. I'm just borrowing Aya for this little romp through the labyrinth of my insane mind. :)
On to the fic-type-thingy!
WARNING: possible SPOILERS for ep. 6. If you don't know who Sakura is, and what ice-cream has to do with Aya, read at your own risk! :)
Comments appreciated, at email@example.com or firstname.lastname@example.org (my 2 main addresses)
thoughts shatter like words
words shatter like chains
chains shatter like glass
glass shatters like a mirror
Tiny rivulets of blood trickle down my clenched fist, reminding me with their crimson warmth that I am alive. But I feel no pain at all. None, when I shed another's blood, or my own.
Why did I just break the mirror?
Seven years bad luck? No, I don't believe in that.
I had stared at my own reflection in the mirror until my eyes hurt. I've always looked the same... the same scarlet-bright hair, the same violet eyes, the same pale skin. I've been the same, haven't I, Aya-chan?
No, not the same. The earring is new. That welcome, slightly awkward weight on my left ear, reminding me of...
Was it then? I thought about the earring... then I made one lightning-fast movement, and then - the tinkling of the glass falling, cracking, shattering into a thousand glittering shards... so I can't see myself anymore.
I am free
I am crying
I am laughing
I am pleading
I am chained
Who have I been then, if not myself? What have I been?
No, Aya-chan, don't answer... I know. A florist, a killer, a bearer of the endlessly clear white light upon my sword, a carrier of pain, a bringer of swift justice. That is "myself" now. Strange, isn't it, how one person can embody so much, so many contrasting things, and not go insane?
Wait. Maybe I am insane.
This was your favorite mirror, Aya-chan. Will you be mad at me for breaking it, when you wake up? I'm sorry... I just couldn't look at myself anymore.
My icy violet eye is staring back at me from the floor. It's mine, but not mine... No, it's just a reflection in a mirror shard. Perhaps I am insane after all. I should pick these pieces up, before I hurt myself any more, and bandage my hand.
Why am I still standing here? Why don't I move already?
a mirror shatters like glass
glass shatters like chains
chains shatter like words
words shatter like thoughts
Here I am, standing alone in my darkened room, staring blankly at pieces of a broken mirror lying on the floor. Here is proof - I'm insane. Of course, if I told you this, you'd probably laugh at me, Aya-chan. Then you'd hug me and tell me I'm the best brother in the world, insane or not.
When was the last time I smiled? I don't even remember.
Oddly enough, the more I stare at these mirror shards, the more I realize that my reflection didn't go anywhere, now it's just broken into pieces. If I look straight down at the pieces, I can see my eye, my hair, my chest, my earring, my hand... where is my smile? Oh, that's it, there it is... it's not a smile at all, is it?
If you told me I'm the best brother in the world again, Aya-chan, would I smile? Did I forget how to smile?
Of course, smiling isn't needed in my world now. I couldn't even smile for that girl, Sakura. How can a killer let himself smile? Or eat ice-cream?
But Ken, Youji and Omi seem to manage just fine, don't they?
I should've finished that ice-cream cone Sakura gave me...
reflections in a mirror
connected by glass chains
of thoughts becoming words.
do words reflect thoughts?
If this is insanity, where else is there to go?
Pieces of mirror on the floor... pieces of me. I'm in pieces. They're reflecting me, but I'm in pieces...
A drop of blood from my cut hand finally drips to the floor, landing on a mirror shard, jolting me like a lightning bolt. How long have I been standing here like this?
I gradually become aware of the pain in my hand.
Slowly, I un-clench it, this pale hand... the hand that was holding a deadly sword, and an innocent ice-cream cone, all in the same day. Ironic, isn't it?
Finally, movement becomes easier... I crouch down, and watch as my hands, both the bleeding one and the healthy one, slowly pick each mirror shard up, one by one.
My hands are moving, my eyes are watching, but my mind is inexplicably thinking how nice it would be, when this is over, to finish eating my ice-cream. With Sakura... and then Aya-chan, when she wakes up.
I am chained
I am pleading
I am laughing
I am crying
I am free.
INSPIRATIONS AND EXPLANATIONS:
Ok, don't ask where this came from, because I really have no idea. Ever feel like you have this image in your mind, and you just HAVE to get it down on paper/computer in some form? Well...it's like that. Am I making any sense?? @_@ One minute I was working on a drawing of Schuldig, which included a broken mirror, the next minute I found myself writing down some lines of a new poem that popped into my head, then it started turning too description-y and less poem-like, so I opened my Word program and started jotting THIS down, and it turned out being about Aya. (my mind works in weird ways, what can I say.)
Anyway, I hope you liked this!