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Life is Bittersweet
By : gothkoneko
Category: Weiß Kreuz > General
Views: 898 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: I do now own WK/WKG nor make a profit from this fic! - Chapter List
- 1
This was an old English assignment I did. Objective: write a descriptive page about anything we want. I wrote about Omi.
Author: Goth Koneko (Eri-chan)
Disclaimer: I do not own Omi! Or any of the Weiss cast!
Warning: angst
Rating: PG
R+R plz ^^
Life is Bittersweet
He was a youthful poetic soul, full of vibrant energy and boundless cheerfulness. His hair was as yellow as the sun, gleaming brightly and his eyes were like the deep depths of the ocean, pure and strong. Alas, he did bore deep emotional scars, his hands stained in blood from the people he had killed in order to save the innocents from their heinous schemes. It was a price to pay to save them, even if he must pretend to smile at the customers that sauntered into the little flower shop. The fragrance of fresh, sweet and sensuous of orchids, roses, lilies and vast more permeated the room. It was like a tropical forest, only that it was not.
The boy sat before the small table, hands working swiftly as he arranged the flowers beautifully and accordingly to what the customer ordered to the fullest. He was content and calm, his mind wondered the endless rooms of hope and wishing, to be a normal teenager, only to be concern with school and a part-time job, not an assassin that killed the bad ones, to stay up restless nights on hacking and gathering information for the missions. He felt alone at times, where he could only depend on himself only; the others were too far to hear him, like a shapeless fathom.
Everything felt like he was underwater, or like in a dream like haze, it didn't seem real. Like an illusion created by his mind. But why was it so clear, every indescribable detail, and each burning lung full of air, the way his darts sliced through the night air with deadly precision and lodging itself into the target's neck, releasing its deadly chemicals into the blood stream. He was too exhausted and wary after the mission; his clothes caked with filth and blood, from either his wounds or the target he did not know, and fell into his bed with a grateful sigh and slip into the realm of disturbed memories and dreams.
Maybe, there was no hope for an assassin. He would either be killed during a strenuous mission, go insane from the pressure, or at worse or best, kill himself by his won hands, those hands that had killed so many but saved hundreds. But who would love a sibling, murdering child, one who killed his own flesh and blood because he had to. Oh, how tortures it was to live this forsaken life, cruel and so unbarring. Yet, that was life wasn't it? Full of hardships and obstacles, of wave after wave of unknown sensations he hadn't felt before. But, what was life besides that?
He found himself starring at the glossy, black stone the marked a grave, his sister, Ouka laid there, encased forever in coarse stone, to never live her life to the fullest as she could of, all because he couldn't save her. He couldn't save the one thing that meant truly something to him. For a youth that had been trained to kill in the earliest of his years that was pretty pathetic! He just held her close, the crimson liquid seeping through her blouse and onto his shirt, the fading of her breath, her regretful tears. His only connection to any family that he has discovered was forever lost in this graveyard, buried deep in the moist earth, never to be seen again. That was his life, an endless torment. If his brothers and all those that were evil were in hell, it'll probably be more joyous than here, because in reality, this is hell.
Owari- 1
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