Masterpiece

☾ Burden ☽

Another day scribbling away at the same desk she had been sat at for three weeks straight. She wasn't aware of what time it was, what day it was or how any of her friends were. All she knew was that she had to keep writing until her wrist gave way and finally snapped. The overwhelming melancholy drowned her thoughts out as her trembling hand paused, graphite pencil snapping with an exhausted thud!

The blue-haired girl sat there, hopelessly staring down at the pencil without a thought to look away. Dull, cerulean orbs lost every sign of sparkle, from this one incident. With a distressed yell piercing the air, Ayumi ran dismayed fingers through the tangled mop atop her head, teeth gnawing at her thin bottom lip.

"I can't do this! I can't feel anything!" the girl howled, sniffing as her distorted features twisted so much that she resembled the Devil himself. Fatigued fists slammed down forcefully on the low, wooden table that shook vigorously from the impact. Her skin pale and malnourished, the despondent teenager reluctantly turned her head to the side, relentlessly glaring at the blue curtains that shrouded the window. However, a single ray of light slipped between the opening of the curtains, much to her dismay. In a fit of pure rage, Ayumi shot up blindly from her place, heart pulsating rapidly as her fingers curled inwards, squeezing. Clutching the edge of the fabric, her arms crossed as the last trace of sunlight was drowned away, leaving the room black. Pitch black.

Her grip didn't loosen, nor did her expression relax. With furrowed eyebrows and tense cheeks, Ayumi downheartedly pressed her forehead laxly against the window, smooth velvet gracing her face. Panting heavily, a knock at the door made her form jolt as a squeal escaped her lips.

It had been about a year since...the incident. It was all her fault. Ever since she was younger, all her peers, adults and elders had told her not to trust anything online. But still, the naive girl she was, she believed an Occultist website. The Sachiko Ever After Charm was no-good - wasn't that obvious? It was a piece of paper, she thought, it couldn't possibly be harmless. But she was oh-so wrong. This "piece of paper" had the astounding power to send the group to somewhere to haunting, so distressing, that whatever happened would scar them all forever, unbeknownst to her.

The ghost of Heavenly Host Elementary School had left a relentless picture of lifeless eyes, limp bodies and blood-caked scissors burnt in her mind, forever. Over and over again, her friend's demises replayed themselves in her mind, like a video on loop. A hanging, a mass of internal organs, a suicide, a sacrifice. She should have used her initiative, it all could've been avoided if she had just been intelligent. But she wasn't.

"Shinozaki?" A husky voice called in desperation. Rolling her eyes, Ayumi cared not for the relentless banging of her door. "Shinozaki! Open up!" A disgruntled sigh.

"Kishinuma, you can't help! Nobody can! Just let me deal with this mess!" She called, her voice faint, sparse. The strain upon it was like a thousand men. "You know it was all my fault! I can't bring back Shinohara, or Morishige...nor Ms. Yui, or Suzumoto! I can't bring back any of them, but I should be able to!"

"Shinozaki, shut the fuck up! If you don't stop saying stupid shit like that, I'll break this door down!" the blond threatened, toxicity spilling from each word he spoke. "You know I will!"

A moment passed and there was silence. But finally, with a click of the tongue and a hesitant wipe of the tears that threatened to fall, Ayumi laxly trudged across the room. An acre, a prairie - the door was a thousand miles away. Whispering a silent prayer, Ayumi's fingers clutched the brass door-knob like a vaccumm. With a reluctant twist of her wrist, the door clicked satisfyingly, allowing it to swing open swiftly.

Eyes locked on, there wasn't a moment of silence before the blond quickly enveloped the shorter girl into a comforting embrace. His strong arms were wrapped protectively around her tiny waist. Handling her like glass, as if she would break at any minute, he squeezed her in adoration. A whiff of her scent made him feel on top of the world: lavender. His heart swelled, tinting his pale cheeks a gratutious, rosy colour. The weight in his arms suddenly halfed.

Knees weak, Ayumi collapsed in his sturdy, reliable hold, frail arms desperately clinging to his baggy clothing like it was her lifeline. With a quiet mumble of his name, she buried her face into his chest, overwhelmed by consolation.

"Yoshiki..." she spoke, her voice dainty, gentle; shy. It had been a long time since she had recalled him by his first name, but little did he care. All he wanted was for her to be safe - that's always what he's wished for. Ever since the incident, ever since she saved his ass after being caught for smoking in the bathroom stalls, he had vowed internally to protect her. Protect the girl who was unfortunately headstrong, argumentative and hostile...yet also sensitive, frail and delicate. All-in-all, this girl was completely and utterly unexpected. But that's what made her so interesting, he thought.

"Shh, Ayumi," he uttered, his voice low. The toxicity from his words had suddenly dissolved, warping into precautionary, despairing ushers. Soothingly, his large hands combed through her entangled locks, watching as her eyelids sleepily fluttered. "Stop worrying. Stop getting upset. I hate seeing you upset, you know that."

There was no reply. Nothing spoken, nothing gestured. But he felt as she shuffled closer to him, if that was even possible, her shoulders sink and her arms regain strength, grasping tightly onto his back. Lovingly, his pupils dilated. The little things that this girl unknowingly did only made his love for her blossom even further. He wanted to sing, he wanted to repeat her name so many times because it's a song. Her name is so sweet, it can roll off his tongue so easily. Ayumi, Ayumi, Ayumi Shinozaki. She was so beautiful, yet so unaware of it.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, Shinozaki," he whispered, loosening his grip slightly, afraid that if he held her any longer, he would fall deeper in this one-sided love. "Let's sit down, light a candle and tell me what's up. I don't want to see you sad anymore."

They did just that. Lighter in hand, Yoshiki's thumb flicked easily across it as a flame sparked, spreading onto the wick and blazing enthusiastically. It flickered and swayed curiously, illuminating the dark room with a comforting, red light. Sat around the same wooden table that Ayumi was seriously sick of, Yoshiki glanced at the piece of paper that was half-crumpled.

Curious, the male snatched the paper away, rejecting Ayumi's sudden protests. Cerulean eyes scanned the writing that went from unbelievably neat, to concerningly messy. Both sides were filled with diagrams of Occult-related objects, pentagrams and mystic items, like a ritual. Arching an eyebrow, Yoshiki's orbs halted in their place as his eyes landed on a particular subtitle.

"HOW TO REVIVE DEAD COMPANIONS."