He sits on the vanity, staring at himself in the mirror. His eyes are rubies, his skin is ivory. He leans his bare body against the glass, expecting to and wanting to feel another himself. He can�t lie, after all; he knows he�s gorgeous. He runs his fingers along his leg, purring like a Siamese. Loving himself, for there is no one else to love him.
No one else. Nobody, nobody, nobody...
Nobody...
Suddenly, the mirror has shattered. His hands are clenched into fists; both are stained scarlet. He laps up the blood greedily, confused but content. Is he angry or just hungry? He pushes the spirit of his old self away, sinking his teeth into the bare flesh he once caressed. Funny... he didn�t see scars before... Long, terrible scars rolling down the length of his legs, jagged marks on his chest, cuts on his lovely arms.
Now he begins to panic. His fingernails are dirty with the browning blood settling underneath them. What happened to his old reflection? What happened to the beauty he saw before? He looks back into the mirror, horrified.
�Mother, please!� he screams. �Why are you doing this!? I�m sorry!�
He falls to the floor. The reflection is gone; he cradles himself��it�s alright now.� He licks his lips, tasting a mix of dry blood, salty sweat, and cold, dead flesh. He gags, and tries his hardest to resist the urge to throw up.
Perfection has gone. Reality has settled. The madness that once suffocated is fading quickly. He shakes like a frightened pup, whimpering in fear. Before he can fight the sensation away, he finds tears running down his cheeks. The shower of teardrops turns into a fit of sobs. He screeches in agony he doesn�t feel but knows exists.
The lights go out, and his voice is muffled by the darkness.
�Mother,� he says again. �Please don�t be angry. Oh, please don�t hurt me. Mother, please...� Icy hands clasp his ankles, then his wrists. He can feel a rough tongue sliding across his skin. �Stop it! Don�t hurt me anymore! Mother, make them stop! Make them leave me alone!� He squirms about in an attempt to break free. �Get away from me! Let go! LET GO!�
At last, the hands release him. However, he does not return home�to the comforting light. He instead plummets into fire�an age-old blaze surrounded by the screams of innocent men, women, and children. The flames sear through him... right down to the bone. He is too paralyzed to feel, too petrified to cry for help or forgiveness.
A blurred scene of death plays before his eyes. He knows it all; he remembers it like yesterday. The pain, the dread, the chaos. How he longs to forget it all, yet here it remains deep within him.
�Run, Rakikai! Hurry! Run while you have the chance!�
�Please don�t hurt my baby!�
�Why did this happen to us? Why?�
�Don�t cry. It�ll all be over soon. They�ll go away.�
�Mother, where are you!?�
�Rakikai, I�m over here... Come�this may be the last time we speak before we meet in the afterlife.�
�Don�t go! I still need you!�
I STILL NEED YOU.
PLEASE DON�T LEAVE ME ALONE... All by myself.
He closes his eyes, longing for the world to disappear.
He awakens after what feels like days. Sunuru stands over him, a worried look in her eyes.
�Yami, are you okay? What happened to you?�
He sits silent for a moment, taking time to simply breathe and confirm his existence. �I�I�m not... sure, exactly. I...�
Sunuru kneels down next to him. �Want a hug?�
He tries to smile, but more tears come instead. He nods, and falls into Sunuru�s arms as she murmurs his name again and again.
�Rakikai... my poor Rakikai.�