Regret and Redemption [Solo]

Age : 29 Posts : 269

Regret

Tick. Tick. Tick. The sound that could tear asunder, the sound of life itself. The sound that echoed throughout the decently sized hotel room, reverberating through it like a pulse through the circulatory system. Each room and path leading to that room was a series of veins and arteries, while the clock in the main room was the heart, beating that sound through it. It could be heard like a force almost, could be felt pounding into the ears. All was quiet except for this sound, and yet, all was deafened. In the face of this ticking sound, nothing else could be heard, nothing physical anyway. Not a knock, not a cry, not even an explosion just outside would break the trance of the ticking; it was all consuming. So much so she breathed in rhythm with the tick, almost like it was directing her. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Were the sound to suddenly stop, she might have found herself passed out on the floor in a matter of seconds. Yet, she was not listening to this sound, was not paying attention to the sound of life. Rather, it simply consumed her sub-conscience while her mind was in other places. It was a brace against the world, keeping her together, standing, breathing, while everything inside her was in another place. Were it to stop, she would find herself on the floor instantly, but she would not notice, for she was somewhere else. It perhaps ran so deep as the keep her heart beating equally as well at the time, keeping her alive in every sense of the world. However she was not really hypnotized, or in a form of trance. No, she was simply lost within her own mind, which had grown to be expansive over the past couple of weeks. Her body and mind existed in two different realms, each unaware of what was going on with the other. What exactly went on within her mind at the time was unsure, though it wasn't as complex as a dream, for she was really lost in thought more than anything. She had not drifted so far just yet.

Her physical being stood on the inside of the hotel room, looking out over the land. There was a glass door with a balcony just outside of it, as she was up on the fifth floor of the hotel. She stood on the outside looking out however, and did not dare step outside. It was late, but she was not tired. The moon's pale light shone in through the window of the door and onto her skin, reflecting it in much the same way the moon was the sun, making her glow with a ghostly brilliance that made her look divine. It shown in her black hair too, which came down to the base of her neck in the back, the bottom of her cheeks on both sides, and long enough in the bangs to cover over one eye to leave only the other revealed. Her hair was straight and spiky, but lush and beautiful in the moonlight. From the backside she would look alot like the moon, a human silhouette with a glowing border, a shadow with a silver lining. From the front her entire form would be illuminated, visible, but the life of her person was clearly non-existent. She stared at everything yet nothing with her always blank deep purple eyes, revealing nothing about her mind. Her face was blank as always, and once again she appeared as nothing more than a statue perhaps placed there as decoration. She work a black nightgown, for she had intended to sleep, but found that she could not. The gown was silk and light, completely black and simple with the skirt coming down just above her knees. She wore nothing else underneath, in fact, she wore this only because it was decent. Otherwise she would have been completely nude, especially in the current state she was in now. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, making her slim form look even slimmer from the back now that her hips were plain to see, and the curvature of her body obvious. She was small but definitely slim. To some she might have appeared as a beautiful goddess of shadow or perhaps even the moon, but she took no care nor notice. There was nobody around to admire her, and there were, they would have been dealt with as intruders without her mind ever even noticing.

Her body was relaxed, but her mind was clearly not. It was lost in thoughts that had been plaguing her all day, and a few days before. It was the question of why she was there. She had no reason, no business, no cause. She was here to fight in a tournament she had no love for, but possibly even discontent. Yet here she was. This hotel room itself was thanks to the tournament, paid in full for her. Without it she wouldn't have been able to marvel in the amazing view that escaped her perception at the moment. But really, that was only a background thought at this moment. What she was really thinking about was Rysa. The lovely, pink haired Inuzuka back home. Their last meeting had gone both good and bad, and they were still "together" as far as she was concerned, but she still just had a bad feeling in her stomach. She had come here without letting her know, without saying anything. She could be sending Aisu in to look for her right now, only he would arrive to an empty room, and have to return to her with the news. She thought of her both fondly and not so fondly while she was there. Mostly, it was of her as a being rather than the relationship they had. She could see her, feel her, standing beside her in a nightgown of her own, staring out at the land as well, and her voice would be like sweet honey. She would compliment on the beauty, and with her arm, she would reach out to the side slowly reaching for her. Her hand would grip air, but her mind would feel her there, be able to feel her, touch her with her hand that was actually grasping air. Soon the feeling would fade however, her hand would fall, and whatever light had been apparent in her eyes up until that point would disappear. She was a gorgeous girl, or rather woman, she thought. Colorful in both appearance and personality, while she was like a boring, silent black and white movie nobody cared about anymore. Her smiles made her happy, her frowns made her upset, her screams made her stomach churn like no other could. She silently pictured each of these faces, and felt each emotion course through her body each time, the last one lingering the most. She was everything to her, and yet she had separated herself from her even more, a horrible thing to do. She had to be angry, furious with her. She could picture her divine figure, scolding her for being so reckless, and she felt so small, pathetic. In her mind she got down on her knees and begged for forgiveness.

But forgiveness she could not have. A terrible thing she had done with her impulse, and she had to pay the price. Rysa would not have her, would not see her in this moment, and she could picture her pointing her in the other direction while looking away. She looked over to her right where she could feel her standing before, and there she was. Her arms were crossed and she was looking the other way, also disgusted and fed up with her, telling her to go. She slowly looked down, blank eyes unblinking, and slowly turned in the other direction to face the inside of the hotel. It was pitch black within, but now the moon shined on her back to expose it, showing off her slender shoulder blades and her white skin against the black nightgown. Once again in rhythm with the clock, she slowly made her way forward, one foot with teach tick. She lumbered like a robot, taking a step and sort of falling into it with each one, swaying back and fourth as she went. She went where she was being told, no longer seeing Rysa but feeling her judgement pour into her back like fire, shaming her further. She gently passed by the bed, but did not look at it, for she knew she could not sleep. She had a destination in mind...her nightgown hitting the floor behind her.

The ticking wasn't gone, but it was muffled. It was the heart of the residence, after all; she could not escape it no matter where she went. Even with cleansing liquid falling down on her head and body, a light drizzle sound as it hit her and escaped the head, she could hear the ticking. Once more was in charge of her breathing, of her beating heart, as it had been. Her mind was never really aware of where she was going, for it perceived the walk as a trek through cold and lonely darkness, shunned by the goddess of the sun and condemned to such darkness. Now her mind understood the warm water as a form of cleansing of her body, a purge of sorts. She did not see the water, but rather felt it running onto her head, wetting it, and down her naked body. She sat in the shower with her back to the head, knees up to her chin where it rested, arms wrapped around them. She was soaked now, and her hair looked even blacker and straighter as it hung heavy with water, giving her a creepy appearance. She stared at the wall of the shower, bore holes into it with her eyes that were seeing nothing but darkness despite the pure white of the room. She heard the tick in the distance, but paid no mind to it, never had. The tick was something for her body to worry about, not her mind. So she sat in the utter darkness, the water feeling more like gas as it purged her wet body, doing what? Removing sins? This was obviously not the case, as she still felt the shun of the sun goddess, condemning her to her own realm of darkness. It was warm though, the gas, so maybe that was all it was about. She pictured the goddess again, but as expected her back was to her. She sat in a ray of light, naked as well, brushing her long pink hair which wasn't tied up anymore. She watched her with unworthy eyes in awe. Eventually, she looked over her shoulder as if noticing her there, and gave her a glare which darkened the light and made her disappear, leaving her alone again. She looked down again, and tightened the grip around her legs more, hugging herself closer. Despite the warm gaseous water, she was cold, so very cold and alone. She stood up to meet an explosion of heat and rage.

The ticking had returned in full, and now she was standing. The sound of water she wasn't hearing in the first place was gone, and she was standing in another room of white, again surrounded by darkness. She wasn't naked now, but close. A black towel covered her shape, concealing all of her privates despite the obvious lack of need. Her hair was wet but drying, simply hanging there around her. She kept it out of her eyes while it dried though, because it could not completely cover one, so it was more of a distraction than anything. She stood in the kitchen of her hotel, but her mind once again had no perception of where she was. She was standing in front of the stove, staring at the wall where a clock was. Her eyes were fixated on the clock, but she was only seeing it in a certain sense. In her mind the clock hung in front of her, suspended in the darkness. This clock was not the source of the ticking, but it still held the time nonetheless. It hung there, mocking her, telling the time. It wasn't the time of day or night however, but rather the amount of time down to the millisecond she had been away from her. Then, the time shifted, and it represented the time that Rysa had been upset with her. She wasn't surprised to find that this time was at least twice as long as the previous time. She stared at the clock, and she could feel her insides fighting each other, tearing at each other, tearing her apart. She made no physical indications of her internal anguish, didn't even cry, as much as she felt she could, she should. She figured thats what Rysa wanted right now, to see her suffer, to make her truly regret having come out here, for leaving her behind, deserting her. Her fist tightened against her knowledge at the thought. She truly was sorry, she was, she couldn't bear it. She couldn't bare this discontent from Rysa she was feeling all around her, it was just too much. Her nails dug into her hand, and within a few seconds, her palm was bleeding, and before she knew it, she was crying. It was silent and tragic, to see the tears streak down her beautiful, flawless face. She didn't sob, she didn't make a sound, but nonetheless the tears were obvious.

As she stood there, bleeding at the hand as it dripped on the white tile floor, she felt the coldness lessen. In her mind, in the void, she saw Rysa with her back to her, but looking over her shoulder. She made a sigh, and like a ray of light, she felt as though she had her forgiveness, some of it anyway. Enough of it so that she wouldn't shun her anymore. She still had explaining to do, but at least she would accept her existence once again. She let out a sigh of relief, and looked down at her hand which had four puncture wounds in it, but to her mind, instead of blood, she saw light...pouring out of her hand. She softly craned her neck and licked it up, stopping the blood though tasting the light. She let her hand drop again, and turned around, looking away from the clock. She took a step forward, and suddenly she was in bed. Her hair was dry now, and she was staring at the ceiling. Once again the tick of the clock was the only thing she heard, the only thing that existed at the time. She could hear it beat, reverberate through the house like a pulse. It was calming, and her breath was shallow. She wasn't beneath the covers, but simply laying on it, head on the pillow. She stared up at the ceiling, but she couldn't see it. Her hand was wrapped with a black cloth to make sure it didn't bleed all over the bed. She was happy, she wasn't hated by the goddess of the sun anymore, but she still had to prove herself. She was her humble servant, her knight, her guardian. She had to express her loyalty now, her devotion, her love. She had to, or she could never return to look her in the face again. She closed her eyes, but she didn't fall asleep the entire night, she could not fall asleep. But that did not mean she did not dream. She dreamt of Rysa, of protecting her, or rather, of extracting redemption for those that did her wrong while she was gone. The images were so vivid...so real, it was like they were actually happening. Like these were actual people, and despite being here, she was somehow doing everything to them in real time, and not just in her head. She looked dead, her breath so shallow. Her chest could barely be seen rising and falling, but as long as the clock continued to tick, she would be okay.