joy: book one: the blooming.

record XVII: kukka-albtraum.

  In what felt like a dream, the world was a white canvas. The echo of a melancholic piano came from somewhere far away, but Tsubaki did not bother to search for the source.

  Camellias came from the ground. At first, they were healthy in appearance. A nearly unnoticeable wind caressed the white, pure petals.
  They were beautiful and innocent, but the sight of them gave no elation to Tsubaki.

  "Such a disgusting child!" spat the harsh voice of a man.
  "I can't believe that thing came out of me..." murmured a woman.

  The camellias began to develop red spots. Tsubaki felt a shiver go down his spine as he traced his fingers around the scars on his face.

  "If we had another child..." said the woman.

  From the ground came orange azaleas. Tsubaki frantically rushed to them and tried to pick them all. Raindrops tapped on his shoulders, dampening his button-up shirt.

  "How can this be?!" screeched the woman.
  "Cursed with another atrocious creature..." growled the man, angrily.

  Tsubaki ran hastily. He held onto the azaleas tightly, protecting them as best as he could. The grey, tall grass became more tedious to tread, and the blackened mud clung to his bare feet.
  Just then, the ground began to open from under him. The azaleas slipped away from Tsubaki's grasps and turned into droplets of red liquid. He cried out for them and screamed out for them, begging for their floral presence to return.

  As he fell through the shadows of the underground, the clashing of weapons surrounded him. Screams of men and women ringed, and Tsubaki's breathing grew more sporadic. Tsubaki covered his ears, hoping to shot out the bloodcurdling sound of war that he knew so well.

  When he finally reached the end of his fall, Tsubaki found himself in darkness, surrounded by wilted xeranthemums. The decayed bodies of a man and a woman hung from two hangman nooses. Their final expressions of horror brought qualmish tremors to Tsubaki's knees. He covered his mouth as throw up ascended his esophagus.

  The cries of a baby echoed throughout the darkness, and tears of regret flooded Tsubaki's eyes. He sat in the dead flowers, curling up into a ball and rocking back and forth.

  "Stand up..." said a voice. Tsubaki looked to see Eleanor shining like an angel. Her eyes were sullen and dispassionate. Her mouth was left unshaped by a smile. Only disdain remained with her and surrounded her cryptic existence like the thick fog of a baleful forest.
  Tsubaki struggled to stand up as she commanded. Eleanor began to turn away from him.

  "Please, don't leave me!" cried Tsubaki desperate.
  "And why should I stay with you?" replied Eleanor. "After all, it's all because you were born that they suffered."
  "No..." quivered Tsubaki.
  "Yes," retorted Eleanor. "Because you were born, those you loved suffered. Innocent people died. You can't even find out who killed me and bring him to justice without failing."

  The once shining sight of Eleanor became bloodied with wounds, with crimson liquid oozing from her.

  "And because you are alive, I died..."
  "No, please!!" beseeched Tsubaki. He threw himself at Eleanor's feet.
  "If only you had never been born..." chanted a voice. Other voices repeated.
  "If only you had never been born..."

  The chant became louder, swarming around Tsubaki like wasps. A dark red liquid began to rise like flood waters. Tsubaki sank in the rising crimson. Into his mouth and nostrils came the red and he choked upon it.
  He couldn't swim away, for heavy chains began to wrap itself tightly around his legs. The weights dragged him from the surface of the liquid and into it.