She grew up in the clutches of poverty; He was raised in the lap of luxury.
She hated nobles; He couldn't be bothered with commoners.
Her heart hidden deep in thorny vines; His one burning in his sleeves.
She was the recently orphaned flower seller;...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Akira's POV
It was the same dream again.
Or perhaps a nightmare?
I was running from them again. I don't know who they were; I couldn't quite make out the faces.
But I could feel them, their hatred for me lashing out, chilling my heart.
I could smell death.
And all of a sudden, a large shadow of a man looms over me, covering me to the fullest.
The man's red fluttering robes over me shelter my frame from the creatures of darkness. I feel no fear anymore.
Safe. Safe at last.
The nightmare soon turns into a dream. The sun emerges from the depth of darkness.
I admire the broad back of the man.
The relief lasts only a moment when I try to get out of his shadow but fail.
Eyes. Uncountable eyes surround me.
Full of judgment, they trace my every move. The sun burns my skin. Tongues hiss.
At what?
Me!
I scream. Claw the eyes. Pull the tongues.
I try to get out again and again.
I fail again and again.
I will forever remain here, never to be on my own.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Master Akira, your luggage is ready to be sent to the Academy. Please inform me if you want me to pack anything additional," the old kitsune butler drawled out in his monotonous voice, without a hint of emotions.
I don't why I expect them from a being held by nothing but a simple seal.
"No, I require nothing more, Hayato. Send the bags to the Academy," I replied as I observed myself in the mirror.
