⚜️Re-write: Prologue⚜️

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Long ago I had a friend. This friend was someone special to me beyond belief. I cherished him. I praised him. I nearly worshipped him. Which, in retrospect, was extremely horrifying.

Moreover, I was willing to go great lengths for this friend of mine. The extent of these lengths were not realized the day he was taken, unfortunately. That will be much, much later, when all we would need was each other and time to heal.

The day he was taken, my mother had left us alone to go on a search for batteries. Mumbling something of electric bills, she insisted we refrain from turning on lights.

"I can't see," he complained that day, my response merely being to open the curtain above the sink. Outside the sun had begun to set- his favorite time of day. "Oh, thank you, Yuu!" He chirps, a smile blossoming across his dazzling face. Although at the time I refused to acknowledge my crush on him, I had frozen at the radiant smile coming from my friend, his blue eyes crinkling around the edges. In a sudden rush, my cheeks had gone aflame. With a harsh nod of my head I sit beside him at the wooden table. His hands wove through roses with dexterity, brows furrowed in concentration. I saw his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth  subtly, safety scissors resting to his right with thorns nearby.

"Mom isn't going to like us using roses for this, Mika," I murmured into my folded arms, his tiny hand moving from his project to pat my head gently.

"She will be fine with it. Besides, I heard her tell my mom that she can't really get mad at us. Our adorable nature is probably too much for her," Mika said with a scratch at the bandaid on his elbow. If I recalled properly, he had scraped it falling out of a tree.

I laugh, brushing my fingers against the soft petals of the roses between us. I had helped Mika cut them. At the time- I admired how beautifully cut his were compared to mine. Looking back on the memories we had both sloppily cut them, the stems jagged and uneven. His were just . . . more presentable than mine. "That's not true, Mika. You told me I looked like a gerbil when I cry this morning," I said with a hurt expression.

"You're not wrong," my blond friend said contemplatively. "But you are nevertheless cute. Why else would I have to fend the girls from you at recess?"

"You don't have to do that. Girls suck." A truth I stand by even now. The only woman to not entirely make my life a living hell was my mom. Even then- she was bad. Mika laughs, his eyes crinkling at the edges as his lips press into a line. His nimble hands still weave roses together as if welding them by the stems, hands covered in bandaids from thorns.

"Yeah, Yuu. All we need is each other," he murmurs quietly. A silence befell upon us, each one content with the other's silent presence. This continued for a few moments before I noticed the change of the atmosphere. It had gone deathly still as if a lingering threat hung over our heads.

Then the front door blew off of its hinges. Mika and I had immediately stood, work abandoned though my blond friend still carried a uncut rose in his tiny hand. With fear and determination settling in the pits of our stomachs, we had left the kitchen to investigate the abrupt sound.

"Mika-" I began, only to be cut off by his hissing whisper.

"Quiet, Yuu."

"We only need the target," a male's voice was saying, tinted by mischief. "The others are anyone's game."

"I'm not okay with this," a young girl's voice said. It sounded younger than ours at the time, her voice entirely showing her own fear. "Not one bit."

"Colette promised you some pain medication if you did this for the Ringleader. And I know you need it," the male says. I saw his crimson eyes survey our dark hall, night filling the sky behind his cloaked face. He stares at a small girl wearing a hoodie that is far too large on her, the threads unraveling at the ends.

"Right! Or else you wouldn't be here either," the girl says with a toothy grin. She walked with the assistance of crutches, bandages covering her legs as far as I could see.

"No, you little devil, I would just make the Ringleader do it himself," I could have sworn I heard the male mutter to himself before he met Mika's gaze. "Now shut up. I found him."

What happened next was forever engraved to my mind. I never wanted to forget this day, even if my mother and those who knew what was necessary said otherwise. Mika shoved me to the back of the hall, covering his lips with a finger before turning to face the figures approaching us slowly. His eyes- so vibrantly blue- were now filled with determination. I tried to reach out to him and pull him  into the shadows with me, only to find that my own body will not move.

And I watched, with my heart hammering in my skull, as the hooded figure dove at Mika. With a steel will, my friend stood unmoving. The figure began to lift him. Of course, everyone knows what happened when you try to pick up Mika. The little devil bit you. My mom was a standalone voucher for this fact, constantly mumbling about it when she thought us to not be listening.

A million thoughts run through my mind. How can I save Mika? If I can? Why are these strange people here? Why can I not move? And why, of all things, are the overlooking me?

In the end, none of them were enough to get me to do what I would gladly do, without a doubt, in the present.

Sacrifice myself for him.

Instead, he is the one to do such, commanding me to remain still with his fierce blue eyes as he screamed, bit, and punched. In a stunned silence i watched the two figures leave with him, the night finally blanketing the sky.

And Mika's rose crowns were left unfinished on the dining room table.

I had the ability to save Mika on that day, I knew then and know now.  To run up to that hooded man with the crimson eyes, tear away my dearest friend, and run. But my cowardice scared me shitless, refraining my younger self from defending what I loved.

And the disappearance of Mika made me regret not defending him all the more. The police searched tirelessly for a year, but left the case open without any suspects or evidence. They had questioned me day in and day out, the only description I had to give of the hooded man's crimson gaze dripping malice.

Now he's too far gone. And it's all my fault.

Author's note
-
Hey guys! So this is the first edition to my way of celebrating the anniversary of Cri De Coeur! Since I'm going to be going on vacation during the actual anniversary, I thought I should start now. I've fixed many "creative liberties" that I am no longer proud of in this, as well as expanding the feel of everything. These updates will go in chronological order, so be patient if your favorite chapter doesn't show up immediately!
But none of this would be possible without your unconditional support. Although it is blatantly stated that I am no longer proud of the writing in this, you all have kept me positive and motivate me to continue writing. This as well as a project known as Merci will be my final contributions to the Owari No Seraph fandom, but I do hope you check out my AO3 where I will be publishing more AUs for fandoms such as Yuri On Ice and Voltron!

With that being said- here is the order of chapters I will re-write (as of now- newer readers may still comment On the last update!)
Prologue (complete)
Chapter One (complete)
Chapter Two (complete)
Chapter Three (complet
Chapter Five
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Thirty-Tree
And chapter Forty-Five

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