Eien Ni Chuku (Eternally Hollow)

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I've finished another Vampire Knight one-shot. It's focused on Senri Shiki and Rima Touya. It's another possible ending to the fight between Rima and Rido (who was possessing Senri at the time). I meant for it to be sad, but I didn't cry when writing it so it isn't too teary.


The song is Fall For You by Secondhand Serenade. The song is slow enough for this one-shot and the lyrics sometimes match it.

Disclaimer: Matsuri Hino is the rightfull owner. No copyright infringement intended.

Eien Ni Chuku (Eternally Hollow)

Have you ever had your heart and soul physically ripped out of your chest? Have you ever been so consumed with guilt and sorrow that you’re drowning in it? Have you ever lost a piece of yourself but are forced to move forward and mend?

Have you ever had to live with the memories and the bloody hands of the very being that killed the person you loved?

I have tried inflicting harm upon myself, damn the accelerated healing. I have tried shoving the images so far away they could never return, damn the perfect memory. I have tired sitting in my self wallowing until I die, damn the molasses slow aging process.

Damn it all to the deepest pits of Hell.

I just want to disappear. I want to curl up protectively until I go completely numb. I want to think of absolutely nothing until my memories start slipping through the cracks. To fade and cease to exist would be a miracle. To be rid of the loathing towards myself and the man I am a piece of. To be rid of this messy red-tinted hair, so similar to his. To be rid of every reminder of that horrid day.

All that would be a blessing on a despicable creature like me.

My mind chooses to replay the scenes and the voices, as if to mercilessly torture me.

I dream about her clear, cerulean blue eyes, so wide and wondrous. Her two doe-like orbs pleading at me, determination shining through them like sunlight on an ocean surface. I imagine her smooth, blemish-free complexion. The pale creaminess of her skin reminding me of rich vanilla ice cream. I picture her thin Cupid’s bow lips, the colour reminding me of watered down blood tablets. I can imagine her straight corn-coloured hair, always tied into two high pigtails on either side of her heart-shaped head.

Many people would say that she was as unemotional as I. But to limited people, that was very untrue. In public, we put up masks, to keep people out and to protect ourselves. Letting emotions slip out was very rare and was only seen sometimes by those we consider friends. Other than that, we were what some consider ‘blank’ towards others.

That was definitely untrue when pertaining to the two of us together. While together, alone, we more naturally showed emotion. Laughter and joy was expressed more freely. The same goes for sadness and concern. We rested out pent up feelings on the support our bond provided.

We needed each other.

And now one is left without the other. One is only left with the haunting of memories and the tsunami of emotions slowly turning inside of him.

Eventually, I’ll crack and fall into an abyss of darkness; never to return.

This is only until after her voice decides to stop echoing inside in head, and her face stops plaguing my dreams. I will never rest until her presence disappears completely.

“Shiki… you idiot! You actually let others control you so easily. You should love yourself more!”

Over and over and over again, like a broken record spinning for eternity, never quieting.

I want to love myself more, but how can I when I destroyed the only connection I had with my emotions? My nerves are forever frayed and split. Nothing is connecting my shattered heart to the rest of my body. I’m now an empty shell.

And I will be hollow for the rest of my worthless life.

The only thing my body is now capable of is staring blankly at a wall. Even if my icy blue eyes are making contact with the creamy painted walls of my dorm room, I see nothing. My eyes stay unfocused; two round pieces of ice on either side of my pale nose.

The only part of me that is active is my brain. My mind spends its meaningless time torturing itself with memories or cursing that horrid male abomination in every language known.

Though, no matter how I try or how much the facts prove it, not all of me blames him. Even if I was possessed by my so called ‘dead’ father, somehow it’s still my fault.

Rido is not the only guilty one with blood on his cold dead fingers.

I am as well.

It was my body he took over. It was my voice he manipulated. It was my blood whip he used. I was his puppet.

But isn’t the puppet as guilty as the puppeteer?

Yes, it is my fault. I let that monster of a man into my head. I wasn’t strong enough. I couldn’t fight back. If I was strong enough maybe I could have stopped him from controlling me in the first place. Or maybe, just maybe, I could have stopped him from piercing her chest with the end of my blood whip.

Maybe I could have saved her.

But what good is it to wallow in the ‘what-if’s’? That will never change the past, no matter how much I will it. It won’t undo mistakes. It won’t ease my suffering. She’ll still be gone and I’ll still be hollow.

“Shiki… you idiot! You actually let others control you so easily. You should love yourself more!”

Maybe, Rima. Maybe I could have loved myself as much as I love you.

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