Wiya's (W) P.O.V
[The past comes… with a price…] - Wiya
Surprise covered the man's face, in front of me. (Y/N) seems content with my reply and his lips thicken a smile. Radiating the warmth I need after days of separation from him. Call me pathetic, but just like him, I am clingy for affections. I questioned him a few times, but he was too embarrassed to admit it.
In truth, I feel euphoric because of him pestering his awareness for me. A woman needs to be cheeky to get the full attention of their man after all.
[I…] - (Y/N)
He muttered an alphabet, leaving a gaping mouth. A few stutters could be heard, mumbles slipped his tongue. Which I know, he is feeling troubled. 4 years of knowing, days filled with us meeting each other. Every expression he made, I have photographic memories for each.
[...I'll comply] - (Y/N)
That sentence is not a mere answer, more like a form of consent. Agreeing to my deal gives me an edge in my side. It is not something bad, and I can proudly state that it is a good intention.
My palms open as I swiftly grip onto his collar like lightning. Driven purely by emotions, I throw away the pressure off my shoulders as I pull him closer. A drop of sweat trickled down his forehead as he wryly smiles. Gazing upon him intently with the ends of my lips twisted slightly.
[The she-devil now, owns you] - Wiya
My lips landed on his soft pairs. My long-awaited kiss.
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Memories, one of the accents which contribute to shaping an individual's personality. Each hem of it is filled to the brim with what he or she truly believes, alongside factual distinctions. Displaying the differences between each person, including some similarities. People cannot truly be exactly the same with one another… which is the beauty of humanity.
My definition of memories, it is a bittersweet part of a person. Happy or sad experiences, it still counts as memories, capturing the scenes with eyes, ears, touch and feel. Like a digital storage device but the organic version in organism terms. Even if one desires to forget, it will never disappear, it could only be locked away deep inside our hearts and mind chained with resentment.
I, myself, experienced the euphoria and horror of memories, to the extent of wanting to edge out my own life… yet, I am still alive and kicking. The sense of terror gave me ways to a new emotion.
The complication in my head exceeded the limit of my mental capability. Rendering my thoughts in an endless loop. Crying not knowing day and night, laughing not knowing when to be happy and sad.
Dawns shun days, yet, cannot truly shine mine. Dusks end days, yet, cannot end my fear. Mad, yes, this is the emotion. Disarray, contempt, blasphemy. There is no completion within an imperfect world… which I found, is beautiful.
Words are not enough to tell a whole story, but it is sufficient to fill the emotional chasms…
(Author's notes: This is a non-canon past story of W (Wiya). Do not be confused and enjoy)
10 years ago, a happy girl living in a mobile town with a family of three. Not rich, not too poor and have a normal standing in society. Facing hurdles together to lighten each other's burden until life challenges are done.
A wholesome mother who loves her daughter, who is me, with her whole heart. Everyday pampering me with motherly affection as if there are no pauses in doing so. Giving pats in any chance she gets and spoon-fed me which I refused.
Yet, my mother works as a demolitionist shopkeeper. Selling civilian standard explosions and taught me a thing or two about charges if I pestered her enough. Eventually, I accumulate ranges of knowledge about the uses of originium powders.
Next, a father who is strict and overprotective about his family. Working as one of the law officers in the forensic section, not knowing day and night until he found a single clue for a lead in investigations.
He would be in a fuss when either my mother or I got an injury regardless of how small it is. Using every medicine available nearby and applied it on the wound. Even a scratch gets covered with a cast. A bit wack in his sense.
Lastly, the daughter, or known as Wiya which is me. The average girl who was given proper education. Born with natural silver hair and smooth crimson horns pointing downward.
An upbeat girl whose innocence knows no bounds, unlike the future her. A little bit cheeky, pulling pranks on her friends from time to time, but nothing major. Minor rules do not apply to her when she is being playful.
She is spoiled until to the point that greed took over a part of her personality. Nothing drastic, just elementary steps of wanting something like a toy. The desire for objects or emotions, such a wonderful feeling for youth like her, luckily she does not have large desires by that time.
Moving on, both of my parents are Sarkaz. Not the traditionalist types, but rather modernists. Where they value the lifestyle that is up to date and did not hand down the legacy they took pride in, onto their only child.
They told the young me that it would only lessen the time I could spend in my childhood. No matter how hard I kept asking them, they are not willing to lay burdens on their child's future.
Showing their concerns about their daughter's future if they were to teach the old ways of a sarkaz. Swordsmanship, creed and the idea of survival. Thinking that it would not be of any use for the world that is revolving towards an advanced era. Wanting their child to adapt to the modern concept of mutuality between races under the term society.
Little did my parents know, is that their daughter did not achieve what they expected, at all.
It is all because of one incident, a family was broken down to mush. When my father went to work for a special case involving the sudden appearance of bulky originium crystals on the streets.
He is a policeman from the forensic branch, got called to duty to investigate it on the spot. The reason for it was to determine the danger level of it, and its sudden sprout is considered bizarre, nothing like it appeared in the historical texts.
One night, my father and his team were conducting traces of its origin alongside local researchers and geologists. From top to underground, they found that the new white crystal of the originium has taken root under the roads. Furthering their investigation by digging a hole.
All was fine until one of the team members went insane. Resulted from the constant exposure with the new originium type and that person is psychologically weak, turning the situation from bad to worse.
Sudden changes present on his body and made him mentally unstable. My father is the nearest to him and managed to restrain that person. That is until another one, became the same as his team member.
There were also explosions brought with them, in case of a cave-in situation. In result, the other one triggered the explosions. A large bang resounded throughout the town and smoke rose up into the night sky.
Commotions stirred up, and the people affected by the explosions either became one of the following, paralyzed or became insane, after having their body disfigured.
My mother got a call from my father's workplace and immediately went to the hospital along with the small me. Out of all the patients, my father withstood the most against the effects of the white originium type. Visitors were told to keep a distance from the patients behind thick glass windows to avoid potential hazards.
Only after a few days, they confirm that the patients do not pass over the new infection towards others, as long they kept a 1-metre distance. At later days, my father got released from the hospital, with his sanity still intact except for his appearance.
My father was discharged from his duty because his condition is not up to the police forces standards. Giving him depression which was visible on his burned face.
Other children in schools kept their distance from me because of my infected father, they misunderstood my health condition. Deeming me infected from the white originium as well. My friends also stopped socialising with me, fearing that I may have the infection.
Ever since that, I spent time with myself at the back of the classroom on each school day. Only able to watch others hanging out with each other from a distance leaving me alone. Isolating me with only imagination to occupy my time.
I was depressed and confused, never once I ever felt this emptiness in my heart.
I tried to approach my friends, only to receive rejections and scowling from their new friends.
I tried to talk things way out, only to receive refusals.
I tried to say that I am still their friends towards others, only to receive denials.
Coming back to my house, Isolating myself in my bedroom. I screamed under the bedsheets, crying myself to sleep. No matter how many times I attempted to mend the situation, it did not work. Instead, it turns to worse, rumours spread out through my schools that I am a creep for being a tryhard and desperate.
Gossips about me hammering my mind to the mud, slapping heavy pangs in my heart. Worsening my appearance physically and mentally.
The verbal bullying evolved to physical bullying, as others saw me vulnerable and disgusting. The bullies used gloves and masks to ridicule me further before slamming my head onto the floors or walls after school.
Teachers? If only they were not controlled by the bullies' wealthy family, I would have believed that there would hope for me to recover. Leading to my decision to transfer school, only to realise, the people who ridiculed me have far influences causing me to fall into another loop.
The young me could not bear the rejection from others while receiving constant aggro. Fortunately, my mother decided that I should quit school and receive a private education. But that does not stop the public rising aggressive behaviour towards families that have an infected member.
We were victims, yet, we were treated like criminals.
In my family's darkest days, my mother shines the brightest. Being able to support my father who is partially crippled, and her daughter who is close to depression.
I love my mother, she is dear to me. In my fall, she was there to extend her hand no matter how deep I fell. Giving me joy, encouraging me not to give up and reject despair's embrace. Her hugs mellow my wounded heart, offering peace to my mind.
She also tends to my father's condition each day. Even if there were no physical or mental improvements in him, deduced by private doctors, she told me that, 'He is the man I love, until death, I won't let him go'. It was not a surprise that the daughter that is me, has the same concept as well.
My father's mental condition worsened bit by bit as time passed by. Like my mother, I have hopes in him to recover.
Until one day, I found my father's hands tightening around her throat.
The naive young me was terrified by the sight of it. My mother's eyes widen, on the verge balling out. She seems to not fight back, letting my father continue doing so.
I involuntarily ran towards him, only to meet his sword piercing my shoulder. He kicks me off from his blade before plunging it onto my mother's mouth. Spilling red liquid on the floor, mixed with her tears as one of her hands is trying to reach out towards her husband's cheek, before her hand falls down onto the floor with a thud.
Tears stream down my cheeks as I try to endure the pain of my broken shoulder blade and my mother's death intensifies that. Despair quickly flooded into my mind but I rejected it. Sorrow and sadness we're visible in my crying voice as I saw my father walking towards me.
I stood up with my trembling small legs, picking up the umbrella near the door. Lifting it with only one hand towards him. I know it is futile, but the chances are not definitely zero.
An individual suddenly appeared behind him and injected my father with a syringe. I could not confirm it was a she or he, because of the person's full covered body.
The person relaxed my father before saying to him, 'As per our deal, we'll be taking your family for failing to meet our conditions, but the money is yours'. At that point I was confused. Moreover, that person kicked my face, knocking me out.
Black covering my vision, a void filled my dream. Only after I felt my body back, I pushed myself against the cold floor and opened my eyes to see my surroundings.
I found myself in a small room with no less than 1 metre². Walls made out of stone, the floors covered with marbles. Steel bars separating my jail-like room from a vintage lab.
A shadow looms over my small body from the other side of the bars. A female scientist pulling a lever and the steel bars lower. The individual who knocked me out appeared behind the scientist and whispered something to her.
After a few minutes, the female scientist glances at me from the masked person with a frown. Her metals soles clank against the floor, approaching me with a stoic look.
I followed my gut and retreated into a corner. Holding my head down and my back against the wall. Fearing what comes after next.
A strong grip could be felt on my wrist as I tried to resist but it was futile. I was held up along with my other wrist before she wrapped me with her arm and carried me somewhere.
From the corners of my eyes, I saw there were other small rooms like mine. Each of the rooms was occupied by one child and the strangest thing is, none of them was noisy. As if they already gave up in resisting.
I tried to wriggle out of her arm and bit it. Only to find that her arm was hard as stone. The female scientist chuckles at my attempt. My face darkens when we approach a transparent body capsule.
My instincts alerted all of my senses as I slam my fists on her strong arm. The recent memories of my mother with a sword stuck in her mouth jolted through my brain swelling a certain emotion inside of me.
The scientist said to not waste my energy and forced a breathing mask onto my mouth. She slings me off her body and pinned into the human-sized transparent capsule which was filled with liquid, before closing the lid. The sound of a lock could be heard as I pound my fists onto the capsule. To no avail, it did not work.
Gears turning, protruding my anxiety about my well being. Gas entering, sizzling against the liquid in the capsule.
My skin began to hurt as my ears were filled with the sounds of bubbling. Minutes or hours, I was not aware of the time passing and kept convulsing in pain. My limbs slamming against the clear thick glasses.
Pulses could be felt throughout my body, concentrated in my pulses. Muffled screams slipped my tongue, feeling my throat sore. Screeching without worrying about losing my voice.
With my eyes red, irritated by the chemical sipping through the gaps of my eye sockets. Adrenaline spiked up my body, as my emotions went wild. My heart beats faster than before as if skipping a beat multiple times.
Solid bristles could be felt in every part of my body, thicker around my heart. It overflows and blackens my emotion as flashes of my bad memories slide through my mind. Rising myself to a new emotion that I have never felt before.
The explosion incident, the start of my suffering.
My father crippled and disfigured, his appearance terrified me, but knowing that he is my father, I still accept him.
Discrimination in school as rumours stirring bad images of the victim's family
Abandoned by friends, them not wanting to be near to risks and join hands with the others.
Irresponsible teachers, breaking my image of my ideal world.
My mother's death…
A long-lasting scream rang out in the room, as jet-black substances smoke out from my body. My vision blackens, I could feel the colour of my sclera shifted and darkened.
The pain in my body dies down, and other gases enter my lungs. Drowsiness hit my senses and sleepiness took over my body.
From then onwards, I experimented like a guinea pig. Given only bread and water to eat, sleep with only a blanket on the cold floor.
Hearing the constant slamming of the capsule lid. Experiencing the same pain as before. The same memories kept flashing through my mind as if taunting me.
The same female scientist who was a psychopath did not care how much I have been through. Only wanting results from me. The chemicals used were driving me INSANE.
It was estimated after a year of this torture, I broke free. During the time, I learned how to control my new found ability properly. Making as much contact with the female scientist and stole her ability slowly but surely.
In the last experiment, I sharpen my nails using her ability to the limit before puncturing through the glass. It breaks, letting the liquid escape and wet the floor as I lunge towards the scientist with black smoke and slice her throat out of surprise. I did not give her time to use her arts, and no mercy shall be shown.
Regaining the freedom I always yearned for, was intoxicating to me. I let the rage inside of me took over my body and guided by the madness in my heart.
My lips curved and twisted, cursing the people who dampened my life under a sheet of despair. As I remember some words from my sweet mother, 'Sweety Wiya, having no plans will only bring madness to you. Be sure to be rational in every future decision you take'.
Sorry mother but, it was too late.
Only after I open my eyes back to regain my consciousness. I stood on top of building rubbles, with red liquid staining my plain dress...
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I parted my lips from (Y/N), before gazing into his eyes with smiling eyes. The giddiness in my heart made me giggle. Feeling that a burden has been lifted off my shoulders.
He looked stunned after I transferred my past memories to him using a stolen arts ability. Caressing his cheeks tenderly as I push myself onto him.
[Your…] - (Y/N)
He pulled me into a hug, surprising me since I showed him my disturbing past. From this action of his, I could feel the warmth of sympathy from him. After all, we are opposite sides of the same feather.
[I love you…] - Wiya
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(Author's notes: Banabam! Here it is, the non-canon version of W's (Wiya) past. Non-canon means it is not based on the real story intended by the writer of Arknights. This is an alternate universe, after all, I twisted the story to entertain all and I aim to please. Anyways, I pray for you readers safety during this long term epidemic. Stay tuned and Au Revoir)