Aiyana Dia - D4 {complete}

What mystery of your soul does your past consciousness recollect? You seem to spend a lot of time deciphering memories-old; especially the ones that pertain to her. What do you see in her, Aiyana? I suppose it is only fair for you to remember today... today is such a dreadful day, and you rub your arms with anguish as you fall down against the wall and bury your pointed chin in the tip of your knees.

"Grandma..." Your voice is hoarse, and you hide your head in your long fingers. Black nails are appropriate for the days events, but for once in your life you are not focused on intimidating but instead your thoughts are deflected by abrupt grief and sudden mourning.

She always wanted you to be the black raven, ready to defend yourself from the others. They thought they were better than you, didn't they? You could hear them laughing out your name the day you first marched through the doors of the training center.

"Aiyana Dia, more like I-yawn-yeah Ditz-Ah. Hey Ai-Ai, where did you get those silly clothes?" You are shorter than them, and dressed in oversized blue-khakis and a red hand-knitted sweater. You were proud of that sweater. Every stitch was weaved with gentleness and tenderness. The yarn had purchased from one of the merchants after a year of saving coins and trinkets. You had presented it to your grandma with eager hands and she had stitched it together faithfully for one month until handing it back to you with an affectionate, "Here you go, doll."

You had wore it proudly that entire winter, despite the protests of your peers at school. You turned your nose up at the group of kids, all of them taller and stronger than you, but still the laughs and jeers came. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" You snarled and turned round-and-round on the heel of your worn-out tennis shoes until you faced them. "You don't know me!" Their cackles only rose higher and you felt yourself go red in the face.

One moment you were screaming your defenses at them and the next you felt the humid breath of a complete stranger on your back. "Punch me." A hiss of a voice whispered down your short neck, and you rotated your head just enough to catch a hint of blonde hair and ice-blue eyes.

"What?"

"I said, punch me. It's the only way they're going to respect you. If you get in a fight your first day, they're bound to be afraid of you." Oh, but you were so hesitant. Wasn't violence outside of the arena-itself bad? Wouldn't that only make you the bully rather than somebody who fought merely to survive? Was today the today you were forced to choose your path? Good or evil, Aiyana, what will it be?

"Okay." Your fist whirls back and then forward as you slug the girl right in the jaw. It connects, harder than you expect, and the girl clutches her chin with pink knuckles (you notice they're already covered in dry blood and bruises. How many fights had this girl gotten into?) Her mouth stretches into a wide smile and you realize immediately you are dealing with no ordinary girl. Before you can react she hits back, a fist in your stomach and immediately you double over in pain. "What the heck?" You spit and suddenly the two of you are tangled limbs and thrown fingers as you claw at each other (all for the sake of the show, of course). The whole center is screaming now, their lips forming the three syllables of your first name.

"Aiyana!" Its music to your ears as the room echoes with your name (and hers, but you don't quite catch it). They are not laughing at you anymore. No, these voices echo with astonishment and what could almost be described as respect as they egg you on. "Aiyana."

Eventually the two of you are separated (they had to let your little show play out for a bit first), and you find yourself covered in blue and purple. The girl is sporting a bloody lip and eyes that glimmer with some sort of enjoyed malice. A trainer forces you through a door to your left and you briefly see her dragged the opposite way. "Save it for after you've gotten some proper training," One of the instructors snips at you but you can see his appreciation in the way he bites his lips. Well, well, you've managed to do something today, even if it was only to frighten them.

It wasn't until many hours later, after you had been stitched up and taught some basic first aid skills that you found the girl again. They had given you free reign of the center (so you could learn some familiarity of course), and you were wandering aimlessly from station to station.

"Watch out, punchy." A voice shrills behind you, and you find yourself face to face with a sprinting blonde. She stops in front of a target range, a knife in each of her hands. You watch with fascination as she throws one and then the other towards a pair of dummies. They land with a satisfying stick and she looks towards you with a smile on your lips. "Hey punchy. My name is Adrianna. What's yours, or do you want me to call you Punchy the rest of my life?"

You grin back and extend a hand, and your smooth fingers meet her rough ones, "I'm Aiyana. But you can call me Ai if you want."

For the first time in your life, you had found a new friend. Sure, Adrianna was rash, violent, and prone to uneven temper-tantrums, but she was your friend. You learned to train with her, even as you shot up like the little sprout you were and began to grow taller than the kids who once towered over you. You even began to gain inches on her, and soon you were the strong one and she only had the fire behind her eyes. She was the light, and you were the dark. And these identities carried with you throughout the next eight years.

At least there was one good thing that came out of today. No longer would you have to keep any attachments to this world. You could let go, just like Adrianna always told you to. You were finally able to fly.