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Snippet #2017285

located in Marris, a part of Shadow of Perfection, one of the many universes on RPG.

Marris

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sawako Kirihae
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-2 months Ago-

"--And I believe, my fair lady, that that would be checkmate."

Her eyes darted hastily to the pieces on the board, hand shaking slightly as she surveyed the situation with the rapt attention of a statue. Fingering the crown of her King, she looked for an escape; anything that would deter the menacing Bishop that stood overwatch a few squares away. Giving it a twiddle, she grasped it in between her soft fingers and sighed a low sigh of regret, addmittance creeping in through the curtains of desperation. A matter of life or death?

No, perhaps not.

"I guess it is."

Giving the royalty a slight push, he fell to the board with surprising ease, head cracking against the cool board with the finality of his death looming. Looking down at him, she only could feel pity as his Queen stood by hopelessly in horror, lamenting silently as her lover lied still beside her. Chess was romantic, though a thoroughly depressing affair.

"I don't think I've seen anyone cry after losing a chess match, hun--" the boy said with a slight chuckle, stifled only slightly by his hand "--but I guess that's not all that surprising with you."

Tearing herself away from the sorrid affair acted out in front of her, she gazed up at her opponent and gave him a pout, wiping away at her face as she vainly attempted to play dumb.

"I wasn't crying--" she shot back, a hand rested gently on her hip "--I never cry; shut up!" She played at what she thought was a look of steel, though quickly found it melted by her boyfriend's stalwart expression.

"You cry over spilt milk." He said matter-of-factly, his crisp eyes directed straight into hers. She found it hard to think when he stared at her. They were so blue; little orbs that drew and sucked in her soul...She averted her gaze.

"I-I d-do not!" She retorted stammering, a denial of the obvious.

"Liar."

She shook at these words, the simple utterance cutting through her like a knife through butter. It was a simple facade, yes, but she found that his tone, his criticality, always tore her to ribbons. She couldn't retort, and so instead leaned over the table and gave him a light, sultry kiss. If she couldn't win through words, she had other assets.

"If I cry--" She paused, letting the peck soak in softly "--it's only because you make me." She finished the sentence slowly as she pulled away and left him in wanton, her lips quivering as she sat back down in her chair. She was no good at pulling away, not even a bit. "Meanie."

He drew his eyes up to hers once again and gave a quick smile, good looks brushing away her pretense of superiority in a heartbeat. She nearly swooned.

"Seems that I'm like this bishop--" he started, his eyes peering into hers as he tossed the mentioned piece up playfully "--I'll make you cry, and then steal you away." It was his game now and he leaned over the table in emulation, his gaze pulling her forward. They kissed deeply as pieces fell to to the floor, pulling away only as the pawns laid at rest on the cold tile below. "...But don't worry; I'll never make you cry ever again." He smiled as he spoke, hair softly lying flat. She could only grin back.

"Liar."

--Present day--

Liar.

The pen tore at the paper angrily as tears cascaded in waterfalls from her hazel eyes, staining it as they fell like raindrops from her cheeks. She felt cold; cold despite the summer rays beating down on her face through the old window in her empty room. With a fit of sobs, she jabbed her pen at her parchment yet again, the ink soaking though deep as she poured her soul into the thin white sheet.

Liar. Cheat. Womanizer. Whore.

She wrote with abandon, the words echoing her enraged thoughts in dark chorus. He was a demon unparalleled, the devil incarnate.

Abusive. Idiot. Bastard. Barbarous.

She peered away from the hate-drenched document and around her room, the void unfilled as her bag lay zipped and boxes absent. Most all of her personals were ash now, fuel for the fire that burned away her normalcy and spiraled her life into oblivion. Now all she had was the blank vellum, and the anathema to fill it to the brim.

"Sawako?"

The voice at the door was soft and feminine, though she found no comort in hearing it.

"Sawako?" Reiterated her aunt, lightly rapping the door as she spoke. "Are you in there?"

Again she remained quiet, having no compulsion to respond. Though she was the only one who would take her in after the accident, Sawako couldn't bear to be grateful. She doubted she retained such a capacity.

"I just want you to know--"She began, her intonation reverberating through the thin wood with cadence "--that if you need someone to talk to, someone to confide in; I'm here."

Hardly a comfort.

She sat silently, her pen at rest on her paper until she heard the distinct sound of footsteps trailing down the hallway. As they receded, she stood up and walked slowly to the window, her hair a mess as she brought her hand through it absentmindedly. From her window, she could see the mass of animals at the nearest farm. Nearly 200 ft away, the smell wafted into the old house anytime an opening was cracked.

"Stupid pig."

She smiled, despite herself. She really did hate this place, for every and no reason. It served as the grim portrait for her misfortune, a constant mockery of the life she once lived. But in that sense, it was perfect. A mockery of what she had grown now to hate was a mockery yet.

No, that wasn't true. She had already hated her life before, she just hadn't realized it.

Letting out a tired sigh, she drifted back to her bed and fell onto it lazily. The sun seeping only barely over the hills it had crept behind, it offered no distraction as she turned off her brain and let sleep take her. God knew she had nothing better to do.