A Benevolent Keepsake

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 Everything had been rather quiet; well, to the witch, perhaps. Now that everyone somewhat knew of each other’s existence, they shouted back and forth to communicate with one another. Ver was always chatting with Vendetto, and Vendetto would shout back curses, in which Kcalb had to silence them with a few caw-caw’s from his crows. The devil had been more active these most recent days; signifying that he was indeed alive and paying attention. Frequently, a crow would visit Wadanohara to keep an eye on her and make sure she was alright; dealing with Satanick’s death surely wasn’t easy for her.

“K-Kcalb… I’m fine.”

She would give the crow a sympathetic smile, and send it on its way back into the black guck to report the news to the devil. It was most appreciated that he help her, but it was indeed tedious; she had to take care of the countless rabbits as well. While she was doing that on this lovely afternoon, Idate walked into the doorway with something wrapped in cloth within his grasp. It was completely visible to the witch, so, when she finally turned to see him, that was the first thing she noticed.

“Good evening, Wadanohara.”

He went into no further detail, but walked away. What was that all about? With a sigh, the nurse continued caring for the bunnies, before huddling them all in her arms and walking outside into the dawning day. Bending down to reach the ground, she gently placed the several bunnies on their feet and stood back up; watching as they hopped away.

“Satanick wouldn’t want you to be cooped up in that closet away from him… be free… and hopefully see him again…”

With involuntary tears, she wandered back to the center and sat down upon her bed; the bed that was once Satanick’s, her dearly beloved guardian. He had given up so much for her… and knowing that it was a rare chance that he may die, didn’t think anything of it that it may be his demise. It was quiet around there, and she didn’t like it; not one bit.

“Satanick… I… I miss you… come back… please…”

The witch whispered, speaking to the bed as if it were him. Softly, she began to sing his lullaby, his infamous tune… of pure imagination, hoping it would make her feel better, but to no avail; it only made her feel worse that he wasn’t there to sing the duet with her. Her sobs were pitched at such a frequency that Samekichi picked it up with ease, and he tip toed out into the hall and into the doorway; watching as Wadanohara curled underneath the bed sheets.

“She’s probably tired… it’s late for her; she was always out before nine.”

The shark said to himself, blowing a brief kiss in her direction with a sweet goodnight. Little did he know… little did he know.

That following morning, as the sun shone through the small window the same way it would when Satanick would sing her awake, she sat up from her cocoon of blankets and wobbled toward the door, before noticing… something wrapped upon her desk. Whatever it was, it was long in length, and a relatively short width. It looked like a log tucked within white linen. There was a puny envelope upon the surface, and as she opened it, she read,

“Dear Wadanohara,
I realize this may be quite late, but it should at least, hopefully, bring you a sense of joy. All we need is our nurse to be in a soggy mood!
With Love,
Idate”

It was from… the Orca? What could he possibly want to give her? Cautiously taking the flap that lied upon the two ends keeping it wrapped up, she pulled them back to reveal…?

“H…Horns…”

They were a sort of bright charcoal-ish black color, and they curled three times in different sizes and heights. There was no way these were… his. They were blooming beautiful red roses along the bases of both horns, just as Wadanohara remembered when she… drew him for Memoca.

“Satanick’s… horns…”

She pressed them close to her heart and clutched them within her arms; tears slowly making their way down her cheeks and upon the delicate red roses. It wasn’t even summer, and the flowers were in full bloom. Shuddering, the witch cradled them and lightly hummed a gentle tune.

“Satanick… you’re… are you here now…?”

On cue, the flowers gave off a sweet aroma, which immediately caught her attention. Pulling them away, she noticed that the fragile petals hadn’t even bent or folded when she pressed them up against her; these were truly blessed flowers. They were all hers… Satanick’s flowers; his horns would only bloom if he…

“If you are happy or in love…,”

The witch murmured,

“Satanick… if you’re happy where you are… then I’m happy…”

Holding each horn in both hands, she gently pressed her lips against them; tasting the sweetness of honey the moment she made contact with them. It felt as if that power were gripping onto her heart once again, but this feeling was only temporary; she knew that well enough. It was only her emotions messing with her; she would never feel the love and power Satanick planted in her that day he kissed her heart, if not literally.

It was nearly impossible for her to pull away; she missed being able to hold the devil this close to her heart. Even if it was only his horns… they were still a part of him. They were even blooming! She never knew his horns were actually capable of doing that. They were still warm, too… maybe that was just because she had been holding them in her hands and whatnot, but that was the logical answer; perhaps the deeper meaning behind their warmth was that Satanick was trying to tell her something… trying to tell her that he was still alive, and that she didn’t have to feel so lonely.

“If only I had a place to put them…”

She mumbled to herself, before scrimmaging through a few of Satanick’s closets. To her discovery, there was a perfectly sized glass box that even had an LED light on the top, so a light could shine down on them. Maneuvering both horns into one hand, the witch took the cloth used to protect them in her free hand, tucked it gently into the bottom of the glass case, and placed the horns inside; closing the little door that opened and connected with hinges on the right side. As she pressed down the small silver button on the plastic lid, the bright light shone down upon the oak tree- like horns; a sprinkle of glitter form its light leaving a shimmer upon the petals of the red roses.

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