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Beep...
Two skaters stood before the starting line.
Beep...
The red-clad man uncaringly foraged through his pocket, placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it.
Beep...
He breathed in the smoke, savoring the flavor.
Beep!
The long, pink-haired man rushed forward, his mechanized skateboard whirred with the strength of several horses.
The gathered crowd of onlookers cheered in excitement. An even cheering of 'Adam!' and 'Cherry!'
The pink-haired man flew down the winding hill on his board. Twisting and turning. Turning and sliding. Sliding and jumping. And to his right, the masked man caught up, keeping up with his speed.
"He's dead even with Adam!"
He could hear the cheers shouting his name.
"Cherry!" "Cherry!" "Cherry!"
With the audience's attention on him, he started pulling ahead.
Sorry, Adam...
Cherry smirked. The mechanical board under his feet burned, streaking across the track. He pushed forward. He shot forward. And in a blaze of speed, he left that red-clad man behind him, in the dust.
But I'll be the one who comes out victorious tonight.
The wheels of his skateboard continued to thunder. The factory was just within sight now. And there was still no hint of that red suit anywhere.
It looked as though it were a certain win, until...
Suddenly...
THUD!
The harrowing crack of wood and screech of metal.
THUD!!
It grew louder.
As the sounds rang through his ears, Cherry turned around.
His eyes widened.
Gleaming in the darkness were two slits as red as the flowing blood beneath his veins. As red as the blood of a crimson moon, and as cold and indifferent as Arctic's ice.
"Carla!" Cherry raised his voice.
The mechanical skateboard under his feet whirred, shifting and accelerating faster and faster. And yet, even though Cherry had such a far lead, he couldn't rid himself of this odd, skin-crawling sensation as though spider legs crept up his spine, and a frost that trembled down his legs.
I have to win...
The mechanical board roared faster and faster.
I need to win...
So that... so that I can show him how wrong his skateboarding is...
He jumped.
Like fluttering cherry blossom petals, the streak of his pink hair soared, gliding above the earth. Then he landed swiftly — swift like the flowering seeds carried by the wind.
Crack.
That sound came from right behind him.
Impossible...
Cherry whipped around. The blood of those red eyes greeted him. He was quickly approaching him.
"Carla, what about the next corner?"
The machine beeped as hundreds of calculations were processed. "15 meters ahead, 30 degrees. 10 more seconds."
"I can't wait that long..." came the low voice as tempting as the devil's offer.
Cherry suddenly felt the wind rush past him. His hair flowed back as the sudden torrent buffeted him.
Adam flew ahead of him, twisted around, and pulled open his arms like a cage. His nails like the corrupted claws of a beast fallen from the heavenly garden.
Cherry closed his eyes, and in that split second, he whirled around and dodged the attack, sliding across the track in a spark of determination. Claws just barely scraping through the follicles of his hair.
Cherry shifted back up, he leaned closer to his board and countered. He slammed his board against Adam's, feeling a similar thrill and excitement as he did in the past. In the past when skating felt like a festival every day. When they used to all skate side by side.
Adam whipped his head as though he didn't even notice Cherry was there, and pulled away, speeding forward.
"Adam's dancing!" The crowd grew excited.
The man's long arms swayed with the wind, and his thundering feet tangoed and tapped like the rushing waves of the great oceans. His board twisted fluidly as his body willed and commanded it to.
Cherry gritted his teeth and yelled, "Adam!"
But as cruel as a demon bathed in the blood of his foes, Adam suddenly twisted around. He stomped onto the tail of his board, flipping it over and over and over like the sharpening of a knife on a cutting board.
Cherry could only watch as a wide smile laced the red-clad man's face. Wide as the mouth of a roaring lion.
The blood-clad man pulled his arms back, reeling the board like the loaded spring and bullet of a gun. The heels of his boots clawed up the dirt beneath him. Ravaging the earth like the paws of a raging beast.
The loaded spring launched.
With the whip of wind and the cruel glint of red, a loud CRACK sliced through the air.
Cherry felt the heavy rush of wind leave his lungs as he reared back from the force of the red board crashing onto him.
What...?
It was a sound like shattering glass. As Cherry's mind broke and went black, the last thing he saw was the cruelty of a twisted paradise.
Thud...
The dust settled, but darkness loomed over the battered skater.
"Boring."
And with those cold words, all went silent.
~•●⚫●•~
The birds nestled into their nest. Their chirps ceased as their breathing slowed and they fell into peace.
But Tadashi continued to dig hole after hole till he had a row of ten. It was as though he were digging small, little graves. He dropped the seeds inside, and slowly covered them with soil, gently patting each of them with a firm but cold hand. He had been outside for too long that he no longer felt the frost of the air.
The sky was dark with gloomy clouds that greedily hid away the light. But most of the world was still asleep, and he should be too, but he couldn't. Not after seeing what Adam had done to someone he once called a friend.
Tadashi's hands stopped moving. He stared down at his stained gloves.
If that's what he does to a friend... what would he do to an enemy?
He shuddered at his own line of thinking.
Why do I stay?
He sighed as he wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead with the back of his glove. Seeing how every day Ainosuke loses more of himself is beyond painful. And though Tadashi may not (could not) lift even a single finger to help, he was ultimately the one who continued to go deeper into the red abyss. He was ultimately the one who chose to stay.
Step. Step. He was too distracted to hear the harrowing thumps of footsteps inching behind him.
"Tadashi?"
The sudden voice startled him.
Tadashi whipped his head around, taken away from his futile musings.
Thump. Thump. Thump. His heart rocked against the side of his chest while he kept the mask of a calm demeanor on.
"Yes, Ainosuke-sama?"
His heartbeat gradually slowed back down.
It thudded in the presence of those red eyes. Eyes like a predator. A snake. A devilish demon.
Tadashi tilted his head at his master, a silent gesture of submission as he awaited an order.
"I just wanted to see you," came the low reply from the red-eyed man whose very presence seemed to clothe itself in the darkness of the abyss itself.
Tadashi paused. He wanted to say something but chose to bite his words back down his straining throat. He was taught to not have a voice. To never have an opinion.
He shook his head and continued with his gardening. Studiously so. Dutifully so. Like a machine with only one purpose in life, and that is to serve until the day he could no longer function.
Time ticked and ticked by. Not even a small peep of sounds or words were spoken between them.
The skies slowly shifted above their heads as Tadashi continued to dig and plant. Dig and plant. Darkness replaced the gray and midnight blues.
"I hurt him."
Step.
A soft voice disturbed the silence once more.
The stars no longer shined upon the earth. It was completely and utterly dark.
Tadashi's hands abruptly stopped moving. He could feel that his master was directly behind him. He wasn't afraid of him, however. Even though he was clearly like the dangerous beasts that hunt after twilight.
He inhaled a soft breath, stabbed the small, gray shovel into the dirt, and exhaled a long sigh.
"I wish I could say you didn't," he finally said.
It was quiet again. If the red-eyed man behind him was surprised at all, he didn't show it. But it was almost too quiet, as though time had frozen over, allotting them one small mercy. The scurrying owls were also oddly silent.
Something unexpected occurred.
The man let the words claw out of his throat, barely above a whisper, but still voiced. "Am I... am I worth saving?"
Tadashi froze, as something in Ainosuke’s slightly wavering voice vaguely reminded him of the young boy he once thought he knew. Of the young boy who would ask and beg him to teach him how to skate. Of the young boy who would fall, tears stinging his red eyes, but would still get back up and ask him to continue teaching him.
The gloomy raven stared down at the small shovel he had stabbed into the earth and picked it back up.
His memories of their past were useless — he knew that. But sometimes, these stubborn and fluttering sensations would resurface at rare times like these.
Rare times for them both.
Tadashi created another hole, but this time, he filled it with plentiful seeds so that it may have the best chance of bearing fruit. "My heart wants to believe you still are." Gently patting the soil.
Ainosuke didn't say another word. He simply stood there for another minute, watching Tadashi with eyes red like the sunset. Then he finally turned away, and the wavering red glow was gone as though it never existed in the first place.
(As though the young boy in Tadashi's memories never existed.)
Step. Step. Step... The harrowing steps of his shoes slowly faded away with the broad of his shoulders. Never once turning to look back at the man he left behind.
The owls hooted and flew with their large wings.
Tadashi stayed in the garden hidden at the back of the mansion. He continued to pat the dirt over the hole, still strongly believing (clinging) onto the hope that it would grow. For a rebirth.
He felt a small wet droplet touch his palm.
Pitter-Patter.
Pitter-Patter.
Swirling dark clouds completely engulfed the skies, and the pitter-patter grew louder, stronger, and more frequent.
Tadashi stood up. He quickly gathered his gardening tools, putting them back into the shed. Then he walked briskly back inside the mansion. He was already soaking wet by them.
Flash!
Through the window, a brief streak of blinding light zipped down from the darkness above.
Crackle! Crackle!
The roar of thunder followed, bellowing over his ears. With it came the waterfall of rain pouring over the earth, refreshing the land and the garden.
He patted a small face towel over his nose and neck.
Perhaps, it was a sign that even with his best, nature would always work against him.
The laws of the world were as absolute as the reckoning force of the pouring rain and the raging crackle of light. And like a slap to the face, it was as though Fate were telling him that a mere man like himself could never hope to cross the boundaries. To dare even change his master's destiny...
He was, and will, always be the son of a gardener.
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END.
~•●⚫●•~