Post by Akki & Akino Kouhen on Mar 2, 2009 7:19:57 GMT -7
News Report
December 25, the Christmas spirit is needed strongly for the support of a family who had a recent loss. It was said to have taken place at night when the 22 year old male college student was walking home. It was a hit and run case where the driver appears to be left with no charges. Please give your care to this family in hopes for them to still have the Christmas spirit.
Funeral
The funeral took place on December 31, a mere six days after the death of the student. He laid in a coffin, sleek black on the exterior almost like marble while on the inside was filled with lilies-a variety of white and red ones. Each person present wore outfits of black signifying the mourning of the deceased. The family cried as they sat on the pews, their tears falling on their Bibles. Silent and unheard the tears fell. The family was one of the last few to give some words and a flower to the coffin.
A step was heard in the grim silence of the large room as it seemed louder by the echoes of the room. A young one dressed in formal black. He walked down the red carpeted aisle to the coffin alongside a woman who also got up, presumably the deceased male’s mother as she was elderly. As the others laid their lilies inside the coffin comfortably around the departed, the two waited for their turn patiently to lay their individual flowers.
The two finally stepped up to the coffin as they looked in at the seemingly serene and sleeping face of the male. From what could be seen, he was dressed in a nice formal tuxedo. It appeared he was drowned in the white and red flowers.
His mother cried as she lain the white lily onto her son’s coffin. She looked through sobs to the male beside her, seemingly concerned as she was turning to return to her seat. “Are there a few words you’d like to say, as his closest friend?” She asked him.
He looked devoid of any particular emotions as he looked down to the male in the coffin. He opened his mouth as he appeared to be giving an answer…
“No. I don’t.”
He said calmly as he laid a wilted purple bell shaped flower over the deceased’s heart. The poisonous flower of death, Deadly Nightshade.
Dormitories
Hollowly he walked home through what had become night. The city lights glowed brilliantly just as the stars that they hid. Among the very few people walking the streets, he still stood out amongst them as he was still dressed in formal wear from the recent funeral of his ‘friend’. He didn’t seem to be affected at all by his friend’s death. Would that make him a murderer, he wondered?
He took aristocratic-like strides to an elegantly designed gate. Probably crafted of the design of late Gothicized. His hands wrapped around it as he pushed it open with ease as it made an almost eerie creak as it was opened. He blankly closed the door as if it was a robotic motion.
He stepped inside the college that appeared to be more of a castle or old European styled mansion. He walked in the inside which, in contrast to the outside, looked completely normal as a school building, though a bit more grand—like a rich kid school.
It was beautiful with a touch of elegance. The reddest velvet curtains that would enunciate the whiteness of the soft snow that fell outside in small fluffs. The floor was of checker-spotted white and black marble. At each corner of the room was a larger version of the chess pieces: two rooks and two bishops each with counterparts black and white. Knight chess pieces were placed at the doorway facing the doors as if guarding the entrance. The pawns stood ready as they were the pillars and columns that supported the building. The king and queen stood at the ascending stairs. The pieces were glass though amazingly easy to move. And above bringing light to the glass figures was a lit chandelier surrounded by smaller chandeliers, attractive at the position on the ceiling that it hung from.
Such a peculiar room.
His peach-colored hands touched the redwood of the stair railing as he walked up the red carpeted staircase. He stood at the top and looked down at the chess board flooring with his bizarre bi colored eyes. He turned away from the scenery nonchalantly as he occupied some more of his time to gaze out the window for a moment and had seen that the snow had abruptly stopped. Unimpressed with the snow or scenery, he headed straight to his dorm. He could see his indifferent expression that haunted him through the reflections of the chandelier’s glass.
His keys jingled lightly in his hands as there were keys for the dorm, a house he lived nearby, desks, etc. Even a small keychain was hanging from the keys that was a panda bear with a stitched mouth and a small top hat. He took one of the keys, the cold metal feeling on his fingers as he twisted it in the keyhole. He opened the door and found a boy in the room.
The stranger appeared to be another student around maybe eighteen years old. The boy was younger than him by about two years if that was so. He glanced with a bored gaze as he appeared to be making scribbles on a paper that meant nothing, just random designs. He blinked as he finally was aware of the other’s presence at the dorm doorway. He put up a smile as he waved.
“Ah, hey. I just got assigned to this dorm. The dorm head said that you were currently at a funeral so, I thought we’d have some whiskey?” He said pulling up a bottle. He shrugged lightly as he unbuttoned his black overcoat and laid it on a nearby chair. He watched the transparent gold liquid fall into a glass. Two glasses sitting on the table. He took one glass for himself while the other boy took up the other glass. “My name’s Haruto Kanayo. Cheers?” He said raising his glass wondering if it seemed too odd.
He sat in a chair calmly, legs crossed making him appear truly like an aristocrat as he untied the hair tie letting his silvery hair free. He held the whiskey in the glass in the other hand as he didn’t appear to mourn or find any interest in clinking glasses together. He indifferently raised his glass and did the same with less enthusiasm as the other named Haruto. “My name is Ichi.” He said as the snow began falling again. As suddenly as it had stopped before.
He didn’t look to Haruto at all, instead choosing to watch the snow fall while he could. A bell like noise could be heard throughout the hallways ringing clearly should anyone be awake to hear it at this time of night.
Happy New Year…
New Year
Haruto had already gone to bed. He lay in the bed to the right of the room which was originally Ichi’s, though he let Haruto have it. Two glasses still sat on the desk: Ichi’s glass was empty while Haruto’s glass was still half full.
It didn’t matter much. He glanced out the window to the snow that had stopped, though was formed quite well on the ground making the wintry scenery. He looked to the person sleeping, a bit sloppily as he was still tossing and turning a bit, though it was a relief he didn’t snore, or at the least, not too loud.
It was, at the least, virtually quiet. He reminisced the death of his so-called friend. He really didn’t know what to call these people, ‘friends’ or ‘victims’. But he knew and called himself a ‘murderer’.
He remembered he was actually there with that person as he was struck by the car. It was actually strikingly familiar to him. They were walking on the sidewalk and they were about to walk across. Since there weren’t many cars around at night, he, like an idiot, ran across and the car hit him. Ichi could still remember seeing the blood dripping as the person fled making it a hit and run. And throughout this, Ichi couldn’t feel it. The shame of no sadness, the anger for the person who killed his friend, and the regret of having such a straight face even the moment he was hit by the car. He couldn’t feel any of it. All he merely did was mechanically dial the number of the police acting as if it had only a minor part to do with him. The only thing he felt, was the cold indifference. The indifference that was far worse than love or hatred that was searing cold.
He watched quietly as tinges of color and life came to the sky. The color that shifted darkness to light. This was another day. It was mechanical and it felt almost as if it was planned on a schedule that perhaps ‘Kami-sama’ (god) created. He wondered why he was the one to so blindly lead sheep to the kill. Why has this happened? But, that was merely a recurring thought with no apparent answer.
December 25, the Christmas spirit is needed strongly for the support of a family who had a recent loss. It was said to have taken place at night when the 22 year old male college student was walking home. It was a hit and run case where the driver appears to be left with no charges. Please give your care to this family in hopes for them to still have the Christmas spirit.
Funeral
The funeral took place on December 31, a mere six days after the death of the student. He laid in a coffin, sleek black on the exterior almost like marble while on the inside was filled with lilies-a variety of white and red ones. Each person present wore outfits of black signifying the mourning of the deceased. The family cried as they sat on the pews, their tears falling on their Bibles. Silent and unheard the tears fell. The family was one of the last few to give some words and a flower to the coffin.
A step was heard in the grim silence of the large room as it seemed louder by the echoes of the room. A young one dressed in formal black. He walked down the red carpeted aisle to the coffin alongside a woman who also got up, presumably the deceased male’s mother as she was elderly. As the others laid their lilies inside the coffin comfortably around the departed, the two waited for their turn patiently to lay their individual flowers.
The two finally stepped up to the coffin as they looked in at the seemingly serene and sleeping face of the male. From what could be seen, he was dressed in a nice formal tuxedo. It appeared he was drowned in the white and red flowers.
His mother cried as she lain the white lily onto her son’s coffin. She looked through sobs to the male beside her, seemingly concerned as she was turning to return to her seat. “Are there a few words you’d like to say, as his closest friend?” She asked him.
He looked devoid of any particular emotions as he looked down to the male in the coffin. He opened his mouth as he appeared to be giving an answer…
“No. I don’t.”
He said calmly as he laid a wilted purple bell shaped flower over the deceased’s heart. The poisonous flower of death, Deadly Nightshade.
Dormitories
Hollowly he walked home through what had become night. The city lights glowed brilliantly just as the stars that they hid. Among the very few people walking the streets, he still stood out amongst them as he was still dressed in formal wear from the recent funeral of his ‘friend’. He didn’t seem to be affected at all by his friend’s death. Would that make him a murderer, he wondered?
He took aristocratic-like strides to an elegantly designed gate. Probably crafted of the design of late Gothicized. His hands wrapped around it as he pushed it open with ease as it made an almost eerie creak as it was opened. He blankly closed the door as if it was a robotic motion.
He stepped inside the college that appeared to be more of a castle or old European styled mansion. He walked in the inside which, in contrast to the outside, looked completely normal as a school building, though a bit more grand—like a rich kid school.
It was beautiful with a touch of elegance. The reddest velvet curtains that would enunciate the whiteness of the soft snow that fell outside in small fluffs. The floor was of checker-spotted white and black marble. At each corner of the room was a larger version of the chess pieces: two rooks and two bishops each with counterparts black and white. Knight chess pieces were placed at the doorway facing the doors as if guarding the entrance. The pawns stood ready as they were the pillars and columns that supported the building. The king and queen stood at the ascending stairs. The pieces were glass though amazingly easy to move. And above bringing light to the glass figures was a lit chandelier surrounded by smaller chandeliers, attractive at the position on the ceiling that it hung from.
Such a peculiar room.
His peach-colored hands touched the redwood of the stair railing as he walked up the red carpeted staircase. He stood at the top and looked down at the chess board flooring with his bizarre bi colored eyes. He turned away from the scenery nonchalantly as he occupied some more of his time to gaze out the window for a moment and had seen that the snow had abruptly stopped. Unimpressed with the snow or scenery, he headed straight to his dorm. He could see his indifferent expression that haunted him through the reflections of the chandelier’s glass.
His keys jingled lightly in his hands as there were keys for the dorm, a house he lived nearby, desks, etc. Even a small keychain was hanging from the keys that was a panda bear with a stitched mouth and a small top hat. He took one of the keys, the cold metal feeling on his fingers as he twisted it in the keyhole. He opened the door and found a boy in the room.
The stranger appeared to be another student around maybe eighteen years old. The boy was younger than him by about two years if that was so. He glanced with a bored gaze as he appeared to be making scribbles on a paper that meant nothing, just random designs. He blinked as he finally was aware of the other’s presence at the dorm doorway. He put up a smile as he waved.
“Ah, hey. I just got assigned to this dorm. The dorm head said that you were currently at a funeral so, I thought we’d have some whiskey?” He said pulling up a bottle. He shrugged lightly as he unbuttoned his black overcoat and laid it on a nearby chair. He watched the transparent gold liquid fall into a glass. Two glasses sitting on the table. He took one glass for himself while the other boy took up the other glass. “My name’s Haruto Kanayo. Cheers?” He said raising his glass wondering if it seemed too odd.
He sat in a chair calmly, legs crossed making him appear truly like an aristocrat as he untied the hair tie letting his silvery hair free. He held the whiskey in the glass in the other hand as he didn’t appear to mourn or find any interest in clinking glasses together. He indifferently raised his glass and did the same with less enthusiasm as the other named Haruto. “My name is Ichi.” He said as the snow began falling again. As suddenly as it had stopped before.
He didn’t look to Haruto at all, instead choosing to watch the snow fall while he could. A bell like noise could be heard throughout the hallways ringing clearly should anyone be awake to hear it at this time of night.
Happy New Year…
New Year
Haruto had already gone to bed. He lay in the bed to the right of the room which was originally Ichi’s, though he let Haruto have it. Two glasses still sat on the desk: Ichi’s glass was empty while Haruto’s glass was still half full.
It didn’t matter much. He glanced out the window to the snow that had stopped, though was formed quite well on the ground making the wintry scenery. He looked to the person sleeping, a bit sloppily as he was still tossing and turning a bit, though it was a relief he didn’t snore, or at the least, not too loud.
It was, at the least, virtually quiet. He reminisced the death of his so-called friend. He really didn’t know what to call these people, ‘friends’ or ‘victims’. But he knew and called himself a ‘murderer’.
He remembered he was actually there with that person as he was struck by the car. It was actually strikingly familiar to him. They were walking on the sidewalk and they were about to walk across. Since there weren’t many cars around at night, he, like an idiot, ran across and the car hit him. Ichi could still remember seeing the blood dripping as the person fled making it a hit and run. And throughout this, Ichi couldn’t feel it. The shame of no sadness, the anger for the person who killed his friend, and the regret of having such a straight face even the moment he was hit by the car. He couldn’t feel any of it. All he merely did was mechanically dial the number of the police acting as if it had only a minor part to do with him. The only thing he felt, was the cold indifference. The indifference that was far worse than love or hatred that was searing cold.
He watched quietly as tinges of color and life came to the sky. The color that shifted darkness to light. This was another day. It was mechanical and it felt almost as if it was planned on a schedule that perhaps ‘Kami-sama’ (god) created. He wondered why he was the one to so blindly lead sheep to the kill. Why has this happened? But, that was merely a recurring thought with no apparent answer.
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