The moment she realized her life was in danger she ran. It was cowardly, but Anomie wasn't one to fight and she wasn't one to die. But cowardice didn't matter when the world's view is through the kaleidoscope of a courtesan.
Kakashi/OC
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ANOMIE HAD ONCE BEEN TOLD THAT EVEN THE STRANGEST OF DREAMS WERE a reflection of the deepest desires. They could even be the desires that you tried to forget you had. When Anomie was a child, living with her mother, she would often dream of living in a house made of cheese. Perhaps because she was underfed, or perhaps because she just really liked cheese.
When sold to her first brothel, she dreamed of her mother holding her and whispering sweet nothings as if that woman ever had the power to actually protect her. You never know just how much someone means to you until you stare up at the ceiling in fear of losing them.
It was so innocent, this dream just had his face in front of hers. His fingers were against her waist, and his lips were so close she could practically feel his breath all over her, filling her. In moments, however, his face grew older, his breath filled with the recognizable scent of alcohol. She recognized his beady eyes as his lips pressed against hers. She attempted to shove him off, but he was stronger and her arms were smaller.
Tamaki Dairo. His lips were chapped as he took control over her body, rendering her useless. Anomie remembered the way her insides burned as he entered her right near her mother, bleeding out from the slice over her throat. The house Anomie had once lived in was riddled with blood and her tears as Dairo took her against the doorframe.
Just as quick as he was there in front of her, she had awoken from her daze. She scolded herself for falling asleep and scolded herself again for the moisture running down her cheeks.
In a haste she opened up the mission scroll, overlooking Tamaki Dairo's face. Before the scroll, it had just been an image for nightmares, and for the first time as far as she would allow herself to remember, she had a name to place on top of her very first rapist who sold her and murdered her mother. For the first time, he was human and not just some monster. Most of what he was had been honestly lost to memory. Most of who he was were lost to compartments in mind that she created to protect herself. If she tried, really tried, she could remember every terrible detail. Anomie didn't try.
But more than that, he was alive. While all the other monsters of her childhood were dead, he breathed. Perhaps it was fate. Perhaps Tobi knew when he assigned her. Anomie didn't believe in coincidence or chance.
She still felt that man's touch, and it was doubtful that she would ever forget.
Dreams were just fragments of inner desires. What was her inner desire? Perhaps to never forget the way his touch felt. To perhaps never forget the feeling of anger that coursed through her veins. For the longest time, she had been numb, shoving away any emotion before it could swallow her whole. She shoved this back too. Dreams were made for sleeping, and those fragments would make her reckless. She had to push it away.
