Stillness like death.
White walls—the colour of the freshly dried bone—pressed against him from all sides. Him, and something else: They looked like marionettes that a child played with, made them dance on a whim, crumpled hands and legs around body, and discarded them off at a side.
It's a common enough thing for a child to do that. So, the fact that a young boy did that to three grown men was of little consequence.
Having done all that, being left alone—for the damaged marionettes were no companions to him—only his breathing and heartbeat was present with him.
He wasn’t provided anything else. Did they trust him to not require anything? It couldn't be that. In any case, he was alone and had plenty time to reflect upon the events that have passed.
Averse to somethings, and pursuing some other things. Everyone does that, and it's a basic observation: the boy did that too.
Sequestered away in this area, he pursued triumph. The men strode forward for the same—whereupon, he could in no way permit it. Victory, for him, was merely perfunctory. As ever, he disinterestedly did that. The men weren't averse to their then present state, the boy thought, so it's of no relevance that he did what he has always done.
Desire. Pain. Pleasure. Everyone has that.
He really was a peculiar creature.
Try their utmost to reach something but fail. Yearn for something earnestly but abstain.
Sages who desire nothing, beasts who lack the essence for that oh so human tint, a true savior free of such things —
He was none of that.
Whatever he was,
Ayanokōji Kiyotaka let out a hollow breath, as he turned on his heel as the door opened.
— he was discontent at the perfect failure he lived in.
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Words: 302
Published: March 22nd, 2022
BINABASA MO ANG
COTE: Vignettes archive
FanfictionA collection of random scenes, one-shots, potential stories that I used to write. Disclaimer: I do not own Classroom of the Elite or any of its characters. It belongs to Shōgo Kinugasa and respective other owners.
