REDproject
Chapter 20: Memoirs, The Book

^^^ If you never know what your mistake is, in the end .. repeat the same mistake.^^^

The great-grandson of birds touches the sweet sense of hearing. The wind rustle invites the rustling of the leaves as well as the light sternness of the dark crown strands of a young man. It rests on a tree trunk on a natural rug that is slightly dampened by dew. The pale petals were tightly clenched, not forgetting an open book on the lap. Sleepiness crumbs tightly---

"Yahoooo!"

The backrest shook briefly. Aborting leaves that will indeed be removed by the host. The sound of a blow rang out, pulling the young man slowly into his consciousness. Something heavy fell right on the lap, making Adam jerk up. A woman's figure is on her legs. The woman's face was red, then she inched in front of the young man while rubbing the sick part.

"Hiyaah is sick, I-sorry not to be. Sorry-sorry!" Screeches softly screeching noisily, making the young man blink.

Extinguished red face, pink hair. "Nmh ... An orihime?" Only that was the young man's comment, he was not fully aware yet.

"I-I woke you up huh? Ehehe, sorry."

The young man was silent, yawning widely. Swiping his eyes funny, again blinked a few times to get the consciousness intact. Staring blue eyes in front of the goal .. There is a strange, fast it grips both shoulders milky white.

"What's going on?! You injured? That okay?" said the young man, looking at the woman he called Orihime from top to bottom.

"That's okay, really," he said as he threw his face away. Seconds later pushed the young man's face when it was too close, for him. "You, overrated!"

No reply to comments .. This young man closed the book which is now in the grass. Rise up, hold the reading with one hand.

"Take another apple? Please help me if you have any difficulties." Rhythmic breath, soot eyes look at the fruit that splattered.

Instead of being embarrassed or worried, Orihime got up; grinning and holding both hands behind his back. "Heee, end of funny Hikoboshi. Reading continued to fall asleep. Really like stories, huh? Can I make it for you?"

Now the all-black young man turned his face away with a tinge of red. Ignore the woman and try touching one of the apples until her free hand is stopped, tightly grasped by Orihime. Warmly patted the dinginya of pale hands, becoming equally warm.

"I can handle this with a snap of a finger." The red lips re-carved a smile, making the young man blush. Like being paralyzed, she confesses when the pink-haired woman hugs her. Bright rays of the sun make up the epidermis and every strand. The sky blue eyes gnawed witty looks calm, the binaries drugged. "Want to see my other magic?"

Like their daily lives, spending time together and indeed there are only them on the island—Unknown Place—ini until one night, the young man all black awake from sleep. The first time for him—when living with the woman—because it feels disturbed, no matter what. To be sure, Hikiboshi did not want to wake Orihime.

Inwardly still remember about the Creator. He heard—from the woman—that every third of the last night, God descended into the heavens of the world. It was a time when prayer was heard by Him. Bending head—hikmat—bibir firmly began to chant, faint; sayup; polite. Until drowsiness shackled, eyes blinked he fell.

"Enjoy life?"

Shocked, the young man rose again from dreamland. The pale petals are blistered, showing off the whole lens of soot. Hot-cold; trembling, he recognized the figure that appeared before him. The shadow of the six-winged angel with horns, his helper far away.

"Forgot himself? Remember who you are, son."

"I-i-ack!" The young man frowned feeling the change in his body. He snarled, curling his head with one hand. Bending in pain. His head was heavy and he could not think. The wound-filled memory turned back around, forcing it to continue to be lived.

The deafening laughter went hand in hand with the sound, the young man collapsed from the bed. Cowering in my arms, sweat as big as corn soaked the floor. Soar firmly; grit your teeth; claw the floor to assume the pain will be reduced if you do so. Like a sledgehammer he was unable to resist. I've had her body in pain.

The rustling full of wounds also snatched the woman from her sleep, even the cold piercing of the epidermis quickly made her aware. Quickly approached the young man who was still cowering crazily, trying to calm---down

Instantly the woman pulls the arm from touching the all-black body, creeping backwards. Sitting when his back touches the cold surface of the wall. The two legs did not budge, continuing to push backwards. A bit of a dream the partition collapsed and he could escape. At least there's something that makes him calm.

Hope is only wishful thinking. Nihil, there was no sign of the wall, only a young man who was endlessly grimacing over lara. Those sky-blue eyes shone, discovering a vision of the power of time-keeping. Where he sees the youth's past and future----

"RED ... Star, are you REDstar?"

Baritone trembling is obvious due to the lips shaking furiously. The two of them could not control themselves, their heavy irregular breaths becoming a rhythm of clutter within the fog of the sense barrier. A second-to-second shock carries a memory fragment, like a cliche that forces it to continue to be seen.

"A-I-O-N." The pale petals of the young man, showing off only half of the intact shape of the soot lens. Fainter.

"I-I, I .. haaah." Irregular breathing, wheezing restrained in the throat due to obstruction of the heartbeat. Cracked like a drum, sending body heat in a cold and dark aura. The space that was once warmed by their laughter.

Regulating breathing, trying to control the faint pain that continues to strengthen. Failing, especially the dizziness like the impact of Godam attacks increasingly hard. The sound in my mind. Joking and gliding laughter; soft accents sounded; memories were burning in their heads.

It felt like the heart was squeezed tightly to the point of suffocating. The sweat thread is still the majority throughout the body. It's painful. Not how many lapse all dark. There was no typical luminescent light of the wooden room, only pitch-sharp, sinking the consciousness slowly. A black shadow enveloped the body. Before all that, pale arms tried to reach .. The dark look also witnessed, the passing of women who could no longer he said.

...-ooO-i...

Wouldn't it be nice if your miserable life got a speck of happiness. Yeah, a speck, so dark is the past. Sometimes I wonder why you are alive. What use? Then every night crying, feeling the pain. Sadly, no one knows, not even those closest to you understand how you feel.

You go out; wander; walk; do the activity of wearing the mask. Yes, the mask, your face; your fake smile. Want to take off the pain, from your chest .. just tell others, pour sadness. Then hope in the quiet of a favor. But you can't, can't. Even opening your mouth is powerless, instead of crying. Hope one alone .. person, can hear the screams of the heart. Finally you feel empty, all your behavior is pretending. Like a puppet, just following the flow of the stage play.

When is this over? You say, what are your goals? What desire? It must be nice to get a hug, warm, even calm the heart. The long-awaited ones finally arrived.

Someone reached out, dragged you out of the darkness. You and him are happy, laughing. He covered the wounds and filled the emptiness of the heart. The first time it can breathe clean oxygen in the lungs, it feels light; heart; head; mind. Joking then said with sweet words .. a piece of the sentence you were waiting for.

Fun, right?

You feel it, right?

You saw him, didn't you?

Isn't this how you know it? Because--

Every time you reflect on those memories, like a sparkling blue gem in the rain, you say you won't lie anymore. May there be no solitude at the other end of this twisted thread—you hope.

Decompose thread thread. You're free now.

There's only one thing you want, but you know what? It was a dream without hope.

You understand nothing, nothing: his tenderness, his kindness, or the meaning of this love for you.

Because, that person is no longer there, leaving you who are still in need. What tastes? It cannot be expressed, just grimacing in the heart .. there should be no need to know; to recognize; to get, all that goodness. Mortal, everything lies .. illusion, mirage. Pain after getting that warmth, pain overpowers your own dark life. Should---

The sound of desau sounded faint, followed by the pale petals rolling up. Views viewed ....

"Well, I-I .. ti-no, why?"

Both hands were still there, clutching the recess of the milk-white's neck. In front of the cross; in the church; his funeral. The heart rattled, the breath choked, really soft .. pain, the whole body was slashed by a pseudo-blade. The corners of the lips were drawn faintly, forming a sickle arch full of twitching. The view was filled with a gray mist that was so disturbing.

Something is stirring in the mind. Tilting the head with increasingly darkened eyes. No longer shining; no longer bright; no longer glittering; savory. The sight carves something that makes a pulse of pain behind the ribs. Just looking at it makes the neck choked. Pain that is too big to attack, like the heart is squeezed strong to feel choked---

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

...-ooO-i...

The tenth sheet depicts the figure of the young man kneeling, lowered his head, covered in blood. It looks like it is in a slightly ruined church, with a giant cross in front of it. A woman appeared before the cross, bowing her head and bleeding as well. The moonlight shone on them. Behind the young man a demonic figure laughed, emerging from a shadow of himself.

Under the strange image, a word was written: "Not accepting the reality, not accepting what is found. Doing what he did not want, the terror he suffered was ingrained in the heart. When the first day took human lives, he didn't care they were starched. The next day and the next, the feeling of death."