DEVIL'S / HOLD

i have screamed until my veins collapsed—i’ve waited last, my time’s elapsed—now, all I do is live with so much fate i’ve wished for this, i’ve bitched at that—-i’ve left behind this little fact: YOU CANNOT KILL WHAT YOU DID NOT CREATE

URL;  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 420 Blaze it Theme;  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 420 Blaze it Posts; 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 420 Blaze it OOC; 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 420 Blaze it IC; 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 420 Blaze it Writing; 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 420 Blaze it Mun – Talk to them; Yes / No Follow; Yes / No

He leads the boy slowly, enough for his small legs to be able to take. He relaxes his hand and tries to be as nonthreatening as humanly possible, because he only just remember how he must be looking to stranger eyes - gaunt appearance, over-sized clothes, sunken cheeks and orbits, half of his face covered by hair the hue of blood. He surely must look like an Undertaker, a Shinigami, Death itself.

“My name is Nagato.“ he speaks softly. “Nice to meet you Mikaela. How old are you?“

The rain doesn’t let up, but they get more cover as they approach the apartment complexes, it’s a somewhat better area of the town. Despite the weather people still stay outside playing shoji and cards. Tea shops are open, the smell is sweet and tender, comforting. They pass by the local restaurant, the door opens as a customer comes out and the smell of cooked pork and stew embeds in his nostrils.

He stops for a moment: “I don’t have anything that well cooked at home, would you rather eat here?”

                                                            „i'm twelve now,“ mikaela answers promptly, part of him thinking about the man's name in particular. it meant something like 'long-lasting gate' and as much as mikaela liked to think about names of people simply passing by, calling out to their friends, he can't wrap his mind around that name. it isn't as easy to understand as sakura or ai or many other countless names the boy picked up over the time watching people. 

                                        mikaela follows. doesn't look around so much anymore, did remember their surroundings pretty well and actually couldn't bring himself to care for the villagers around going by their daily lives: the rain didn't seem to bother them and mikaela again was dumbfounded. he hates this weather. would stay inside all day if he so could. 

                              short legs keep on walking even as nagato stands still looking for something mikaela had completely ignored, and he gets pulled back with a short 'whoop' --- now he can smell it too. 

                                        his stomach growled as loud as one could possibly imagine. like rolling thunder. much more threatening, though. feed me, feed me! the fact that he's all cold and soaked wasn't a priority at this point, plus mikaela could get rid of the cloak and it should be a lot less uncomfortable then. 

His body reacts, and he should be able to pinpoint this emotion: a sinking heart, shaking knees and quivering fingers, a pit in his stomach and hollowness in his bones, a cold chill in his flesh. History repeats itself he bitterly remembers: over and over and over the same things keep on happening. They all complain and do nothing - but there’s seemingly nothing that can be done when even after people have ‘learned’ they let the same atoricities take place: like this orphan before him.

And now the flames of hate are re-ignited and he wishes to part great sorrow to the villages for this war-based they have to support, through child soldiers and endless enraged orphans.

Nagato stands up and lends the boy his hand. There’s a place he owns not far from here. It was supposed to be an apartment for him to live in, but he can’t be parted from the central tower in Amegakure, the office, the morgue, the baths underneath the building, the medical facilities there. … the morgue…

His heart aches again at the mere thought of what he is. And he wants to take this child with him…

But he’ll try. He smiles, as brightly as he can: “My apartment is not far from here.”

But it’s… unused….

                                                  „hmm...“ instead for the man's hand mikaela grabs a                                                   handful of fabric from the cloak's sleeve and holds tight to it. 

                              surely that's all he could muster up at this moment, given the child was still feeling anxious about the whole situation: but there's a big big aching hole where his stomach should sit and he's cold and miserable, feels water dripping down his locks onto his nose and lips, hair sticking to his skin. 

                                                  „that should do it!“ he keeps speaking louder, imagines to                                                   talk over his anxiety and that little fear he felt deep in his                                                   bones --- honestly, what could be worse than starving? 

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤThe days at Sanguinem were almost the same everyday since that place had been built. But if Itachi gave some thought to it, he’d say he felt like he’d stopped in time since the night he’d been transformed into a vampire, quite some hundreds of years ago. But since then he decided not to recover such bad memories, considering that there’s no turning back, and by now he didn’t even want to be human anymore. He didn’t feel like human, not in the least. ㅤ ㅤ ㅤAnd speaking of humans, he eyed Mikaela from afar as soon as he entered the corridor, walking in a slow pace as usual. Itachi, as the other, was turned into a vampire at a young age, the only difference is that it had happened a long time ago— and he didn’t feel so angry anymore. Now, with absolutely nothing to lose, he also didn’t see reason to keep carryingthe dead weight past was. But apparently the blonde still had ghosts tormenting him, but Itachi couldn’t really blame him. It was only normal. ㅤ ㅤ ㅤWhat was kinda weird was the other vampire staring at him for so long he felt compiled to stop and look back, with a questioning expression. When he decided he wasn’t getting any explanation, the raven haired asked with a quiet voice. ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ— Is there something wrong? ㅤ ㅤ ㅤItachi tried to keep his tone from sounding offending, although he didn’t care about that— making vampires or humans angry —even after turning into a vampire, being rude for no reason was still not of his nature.

                              to him it occurred that mikaela had never heard this vampire's voice before. it wasn't as loud. not so deep like crowley's and certainly had a pleasant ring to it. calming. despite being close to an unknown vampire mikaela doesn't feel so greatly distressed as many other times facing one, rather so he is drawn in. anxiety fades, the boy taking a step closer with his eyes never leaving the other's pair. 

                              the tone of his words mikaela did not find harsh, not rude nor arrogant even though mikaela stared so impolitely at him for much longer than it could be called an interested glance, but, really, the sight of a vampire that had not yet the crimson hue in their eyes was like a gift. mikaela isn't the only outsider anymore. 

                                                  „sorry,“ mumbles he, steps come to a halt                                                   a few meters before the other vampire, and still                                                   mikaela stares. gaze's soft, no longer surprised and stricken. 

                                                  „you're not a vampire,“ it's his voice that sounds strange,                                                   his words that came not quite insulting but not-so-neutral                                                   either. there's surprise and disbelief and, for sure,                                                   the interest mikaela could not hide. 

                                                  „how do you exist?“ 

He didn’t even bear an umbrella, the rain soaked him to the bones and the cold started to seep into him - maybe it was a form of self-torture what he was doing to himself, but frankly he couldn’t care less.

He needed to empty his mind of all the thoughts - pitiful he was. Bu the rain helped. Going around on the streets aimlessly, taking in how the marketplace hasn’t changed at all ever since he was a child, an orphan, how the houses still looked pitiful and miserable, reminded him of their dream. Their goal, the thing they still kept living through all of this.

It wasn’t hope, but it kept them going, kept him alive.

All until a squeaky voice, and a powerful tug on his cloak made him look down.

For a moment he froze, no more words to say as he thought he saw himself in his child years sating up at him, pulling at his cloak. The clothes were too big for him, soaked pale face with sunken cheeks and purple circle around his eyes…

But the hair was blonde. This wasn’t a hallucination. His heart ached now.

Nagato bend down to be face level with the kid: “I can offer you a dry place and some warm food. Do you want to come?”

                                        mikaela takes a step back, truthfully he expected the man to reject him like everyone else has done up until this point. mikaela wonders, though, about the man wide eyed and distressed, seemingly so. had he done something wrong? ---aside from the blatant lying and tugging at a stranger's clothing so insistently? 

                                                  „uh... uhm...“ god, yes he does. yet the boy's mind works quick, tries to think of the many ways this man could possibly harm him if he so pleased--- mikaela used to have a certain strength, stamina enough to last for many many small robberies, sadly thinking back shows mikaela that all he did was run from elderly women and their dogs. 

                                        at this point he couldn't pass up that chance to get something warm in his belly. to have dry hair and clothes again was the dream. and the boy nods and the spirit returns back to that malnourished body of his and with a bit too much sprinkle of excitement, mikaela chants.