:: Attempt 10 | Butterfly ::
"Nan ajikdo mitgijiga anha
i modeun ge da kkumin geot gata
sarajiryeo hajima
"Is it true? Is it true?
You You
neomu areumdawo duryeowo
Untrue Untrue
You You You
"Gyeote meomulleojullae
naege yaksokhaejullae
son daemyeon naragalkka buseojilkka
geobna geobna geobna
"Siganeul meomchullae
i sungani jinamyeon
eobseotdeon iri doelkka neol irheulkka
geobna geobna geobna.."
["I still can't believe it.
All of this seems like a dream;
Don't try to disappear.
"Is it true? Is it true?
You, you..
You're so beautiful, that I'm scared;
Untrue, untrue..
You, you, you..
"Will you stay by my side?
Will you promise me?
If I let go of your hand, you'll fly away and break--
I'm scared, scared, scared of that.
"Will you stop time?
If this moment passes--
As though it hadn't happened--
I'm scared, scared, scared I'll lose you."]
-"Butterfly (Prologue Mix)" by BTS (English translations from https://colorcodedlyrics.com/2015/11/bts-bangtansonyeondan-butterfly)
[Song suggestion by FayeeeM .]
x + x
"You know that ya' can tell me anything, right?" His voice says it in my ear, as if he is simply whispering the words by my side, not through an occasionally static-ridden phone call connecting two people situated on roughly opposite ends of the world. I shake my head slightly, pinching the bridge of my nose with my other hand as I close my eyes.
"Why would I ever?" I question, a wry smile curling my lips. "You hardly count as someone reliable, 'Miles'."
He chuckles, the sound clear and distinct through the pounding in my head. "That actually hurt, y'know, Aoi. We've been partners for at least three years now."
I raise an eyebrow in return, ignoring the incoming rush of pedestrians jostling me from side to side. I stumble forward a few steps, adjusting my hold upon my cellphone as I walk. It would be quite a bother to lose my only means of communication in such a pathetic manner.
"Time spent together doesn't validate another's reliability," I respond, pausing at the intersection outside of the station as I gesture towards a hesitant Tsubaki. She nods in return, shuffling over to my side, periodically murmuring apologies to any passersby she might have bumped into with a slightly embarrassed expression upon her face. I smile slightly, turning on my heel as I press the phone against my ear even more securely. "I suppose you know that well enough, seeing that you know me and my ways for 'at least three years'."
In the bright sunlight, it isn't hard to imagine him grinning mischievously as he speaks. "Ya' got me there," he mumbles, a small laugh escaping his lips; breathless and out of pure mirth. "Never mind that; why didja call in the first place? Surely you didn't miss me, did you?"
I unnecessarily pause by the gates of the school, heat flooding my cheeks even as a rude student shoulders past; aiming one last glare at my frozen form before disappearing into the campus.
"Not in the least." I fight to keep the embarrassment at bay, closing my eyes as I step through the entrance and into the campus of Kunugigaoka Junior High School. "Assuming such ridiculous fallacies may get you into trouble with 'Novem' (and by that I mean in the context of teasing), as I think you are well acquainted with that kind of scenario."
A peal of nervous laughter meets my ears in return. "Ya' know me too well.."
A genuine smile tugs at my lips, only to be stifled and replaced with an instinctive frown as I catch sight of an unfortunately familiar tuft of strawberry-blond hair. I tense immediately, much to the worried look Tsubaki gives me. She had kept silent throughout the weekend after the failed shopping trip, thankfully keeping her distance as I secluded myself in my room.
Roughly twelve more days, I remind myself.
"Aoi? Ya' still there?" 'Miles' questions, a vague hint of worry in his voice. I sigh deeply, uttering a brief goodbye to my parabatai as I lock my phone, stepping forward as I meet the gaze of my own beloved - note the sarcasm - "boyfriend".
"Good morning, Shu." I greet icily, smiling a little too forced to be natural - or genuine, in this case. "I apologize for the fact that I wasn't home when you visited."
Gakushu returns the smile as he takes a step forward, a hand tipping up my chin as his lips press against mine for a brief second before he pulls away. An ambiguous emotion lurks in his eyes, one which I hardly catch a glimpse of before it's gone. "It's alright," he says calmly, despite the fact that his own eyes tell otherwise. "I suppose we can reschedule our date some other time then?"
I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to push him away. I can't - not yet, not in front of all these people. Instead, I reach up, brushing the hair away from his eyes as a disgustingly smug smirk makes its way to my lips.
"If that's what you want." I say as I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him into an unprecedented embrace. It is like hugging a near-stranger; a distant personage I have glimpsed before but never really met. Gakushu stiffens for a second, before his arms snake around my waist and pull me close. I resist the disgusted shiver attempting to take hold of me as I rest my head against his collarbone.
I feel tainted beyond words. Yet I have to pretend; I have to be the better actress.
My own life depends upon it.
x + x
It is strange.
She is so close, close enough that he can take in the scent of her perfume, that he can feel each movement, each shift of the vibrant red locks of her hair as she buries her face upon the crook of his neck. Yet why does she still appear to be so distant - an elusive illusion, a butterfly alighting upon his hand before it takes off into flight again once disturbed?
"Shu.." Aoi whispers, looking away as an evident flush dusts across her cheeks. In their close proximity, he can see several freckles along her high cheekbones, almost invisible from afar. Gakushu looks down upon his fianceé, his rumored "girlfriend"; an odd mixture of confusion and disappointment flitting across his normally placid visage. "Shouldn't we go now? We might become late for class."
Her words sound normal to him; as though last week never existed, as if all his accusations, all of his discoveries, their confrontation three years before never took place. It is completely, utterly puzzling, in a way that even as she - Hanazono Aoi, his childhood friend, his fianceé - lace her fingers with his and lead him along in a contemplative daze, can't snap him out of his untimely trance.
And this is saying much, as she supposedly loathes him - Asano Gakushu - with all her heart; that she abhors him with a burning persistence even as he attempts to apologize.
Is she acting? He contemplates, looking at the petite girl's slender frame as she walks in front of him, her fingers still entwined with his. It is as if their roles had switched to a hundred-and-eighty-degree turn; he had turned impassive to her attempts at persuasion.
At the realization, a dry chuckle emits from between his parched lips, drawing the attention of the red-haired female as they halt outside their classroom. Aoi tilts her head to the side, a brief flicker of annoyance flitting through her weirdly cheerful gaze as she tugs at her "boyfriend"'s hand.
"Shu? Are you--"
He cuts her off short, pressing his lips to hers in a brief, yet gentle kiss as his right hand clasps lightly over her left cheek. He pulls away, a breathless laugh slipping past his lips. She stares at him as if he had gone completely, irrevocably mad; a vibrant scarlet tint rushing to her cheeks as she stumbles inside the classroom, followed by the amused strawberry-blond male.
I must have gone crazy. He muses, taking a seat beside an uncomfortably flustered Aoi, try as she might to hide it. She's succeeding, to be completely honest. She must be quite the talented actress, he thinks offhandedly as he reaches over, taking her hand in his. She freezes at his initial movement, relaxing only the slightest as he delicately holds her hand in a manner as though he is holding a fragile being.
"...The monthly assembly is today." Gakushu utters calmly, looking down at their clasped hands. He swallows thickly, thinking of her possible reaction to the upcoming discrimination of the low-life scum called the 'E Class'. Will she join in the jeering? Or will she disapprove?
Truth be told, if Gakushu is allowed to choose, he would rather that this moment - just this moment of silence between them, this ephemeral tranquility despite the evident jealousy the feminine population of the class displayed - might last a little while longer.
Yet deep inside, he knows it won't be possible.
Aoi dips her head into a nod at his words, closing her eyes as a sigh escapes her lips. His gaze flickers to her relaxed form, widening slightly at the realization that her headphones - which she normally wears around her neck - are gone, her hair let loose so that it tumbles down her back unlike in her usual intricate braid.
All in all, she appears to be different. But that is ridiculous. She is still Aoi - his Aoi, he reminds himself.
Although, in this moment in time, he isn't certain if those words still ring true.
"Midterms are in a couple days," she whispers softly, a slight smile upon her lips. "Although, I suppose I shouldn't worry, seeing that you're the one with the highest grades in the entire school."
He doesn't respond, choosing instead to study her face. She is smiling, a small, almost unnoticeable dimple upon her cheek; yet, her eyes tell an altogether different tale. Try as she might to act calm, they are stormy in hue, as though she is waging an internal war with herself. He guesses that he knows why.
"Come on." Gakushu stands, tightening his grasp upon her hand as she follows suit. Their classmates head out the door, chattering about random topics ranging from an idol concert the weekend before to the presence of the E Class at the main campus for the assembly they are about to attend.
And as they walk, he realizes a fact which he has been blind about all along.
The girl that he knows is fading, crumbling to dust and ashes, bit by bit disappearing into the void he's long locked away in the depths of his so-called 'prodigious' mind. The Aoi he knows from his childlike midsummer memories; the red-haired girl who used to sing, who knew how to play with anything including his own, immature heart - she's slowly but surely disappearing, replaced by a girl he doesn't know.
It feels as though if he lets go of her hand, she will vanish completely from his sight a second time, very much like the butterflies they used to attempt to catch during one summer in their childhood. She will fly away, to a place he cannot reach, no matter how hard he tries.
And he is no longer certain if he will be able to handle the experience.
x + x
I have always known when a trap would be sprung; a brief second of calm before the ticking bomb comes to an abrupt beeping sound and results in an explosion, taking the lives of many. A normally unpredictable Jack-in-the-Box.
But for someone trained to be precise in delivering the killing blow without fail, such alertness in order to counter any hindrances to the plan is required to survive.
This situation is the same, varying only in the location.
Tension hangs thick in the air; whispers and jeers pouring forth from eager lips. I look around, still holding on to Gakushu's hand as I survey my surroundings. Several students enter the gymnasium, their differentiating frames tense with uncommon watchfulness, as though they are waiting for something to strike. There is a vague sense of defiance in their eyes as they halt in the right side of the edifice, shoulders hunched as their gazes flick from the different classes surrounding their little group.
The insults are directed at them, I realize almost belatedly, watching as two students from Class D pause by a petite, androgynous personage with sky-blue hair. With a jolt, I recognize him as one of the companions of the girl I'd met over the weekend - Amaya, she said her name was.
Few words are exchanged, the smaller male looking uncomfortable beneath the degrading stares of the duo as they pass, laughing as they went. I clench my free hand into a fist, resisting the urge to throw a punch at the two.
Fighting against the urge, I turn away, closing my eyes in a vain attempt to shut off the world around me. This situation reminds me of that time; the same helplessness, the same fear, the very same uncertainty in my actions. When have I ever done anything correctly? I am nothing but one who dwells in sin, who makes a profit in wrongdoing.
Yet life, in its simplest aspect, is the same as to a battle - a game deciding who is killed and who is to be killed. I wrinkle my nose in disgust. The irony in my words astound me.
Perhaps this is why I feel so uncommonly attuned to being an assassin? It is what makes me who I am, which fuels my sense of being - without it, without this thread which holds my forsaken sanity and this scarred body I possess together, I may as well fall apart. I am nothing, as a tool is without its user. I am nothing, as I was trained to be this way.
If I was never introduced to this life of crime, would I have turned out differently? I internally muse, shaking my head almost immediately as the thought enters my mind. Whatever happens, I am still myself. I am still Hanazono Aoi.
Or am I, truly?
'Atalanta'. 'Hideaki'. 'Jean'.
Over the years, I have taken many names, masqueraded as someone I am not. Who am I to say that I am still the same as before? Before everything which lead up to this moment transpired, before I was introduced to the life I was coerced to lead.
Even now, I am pretending to be the lover of a man I have loathed for the past three years, acting as though nothing has changed.
Yet it is there, even in the silence - a near-imperceptible hint of a difference. And right now, I no longer know if I can change it back to the way it used to be.
I don't know if I even want to try.
-To be continued.
[Word Count: 2,510 (Notes excluded.). Originally written February 2nd, 2016. Edited January 14th, 2017.]