Memento Mori (MikaYuu)

«23»

Praying is disgusting. Saint concluded in his thoughts at the dinner table.

He sat blatantly in his creaky oak chair, watching everyone in disgust with their clasped hands and steaming porridge before them. Him and Sister Anna were glowering directly at one another - a brutal stare down.

What a burnt face you have, nun.

Three crimes he attempted to inflict another being, and each one he surprised himself every time. Unleashing that side of him was startling, yet so horridly intriguing. Too much of an adrenaline rush.

After the prayer's conclusion, he picked up his spoon, ending his stare with her as well. Not like one wanted to look into that half-baked, aged and hideous face as it was. He was utterly unaware of her getting up from her seat at the table and marching over to him. Only when he noticed the food being taken from him did he sit back against the rest of the chair in vexation.

"You didn't pray." She scoured lowly.

"Neither did you."

"I always do before anyone of you take your seats."

"I didn't realize praying made you smell like cigarettes," he impeached, the children all suddenly frantically looking at one another at the mention of what was considered a 'bad word'.

The nun just blew it off entirely. "Well, I pray that you ask God for some kind of forgiveness because it isn't coming from me-"

Dear God... I should've killed you the night I had the chance.

He rose to his feet without a second thought, brutally slapping the woman in the bat of an eye - not a soul obtaining even the slightest idea of what had occurred until after the bowl of food crashed to the floor.

He was only thinking of one person during the assault.

Tears assembled in his colorless eyes. He merely grimaced at the nun's expression of shock, well aware she lacked the nerve to physically rebuttal.

Saint was not Yuu. He did not tolerate beatings.

"How the fuck does that feel knowing you did that shit to Yuu everyday? Huh?! That's from him. From Yuu. From him, to me, to you. Goodnight." He violently shoved his chair aside, making his way to the noisy stairs. A kid began to cry, depressed with the inflation of barbarity as of recent in the poor foster care. Saint stopped midway on the staircase as pique boiled at an all time high within him, unable to be contained. He leant over the railing. "And fuck your porridge! I'm sick of that horse shit. Ask God for forgiveness in your cooking, you fucking..."

Good enough.

He stormed into the bathroom, hatefully slamming the door behind him. It nearly fell off the hinges. He hastily locked it behind him, finally caving into his despondency. To his knees, he fell, gripping at the rugs as he cried.

He scavenged the dirty bathroom for the nearest anesthetic drug, and suffered himself a hangover in the tub.

Hope wore thin for his lifeline.

I bet you loved Sister Anna at one point, didn't you, Yuu? I'm gonna kill her, too...

~

Yuu and Mika worked diligently together on a colorful project on the shambolic living room floor, crayons and markers scattered about. They were determined, intent focus as Yuu scribbled while Mika used precision in his lines. The stereo blared as a medium of concentration, although Yuu was far too much of a cute distraction at times for the blond.