ash and dust {kou}

We're all afflicted by some sort of fiction.

My fiction was so great, so expertly woven that I didn't even realize I was trapped in a game of pretend until my eye opening reaping. My fiction existed so well I perceived it as a reality for four years, held my self like some sort of abstract figure with a piece of divinity in his hands but in reality I was just as bad as all the puppets I sneered coldly at. Actually, scratch that, I was worse because I was pretending to be the opposite of what I truly am; nothing.

If I can open my eyes to that sort of fiction, then nothing can fool me. Under the shadow of fiction itself, I refuse to crumble under the weight of the inevitable. No time to pretend anymore, no time for a 'let's try again', I spring into action. I'll be trapped here to train for three days, even my mad mind knows I might as well make use for it.

The sword in my hand it well balanced, practically an extension of my own arm. With a grunt, I quickly slash towards it's chest then a fluid swipe at its throat. He would be bleeding out on the ground right now; too bad this is nothing but fiction.

"Fuck sake!"

I don't want fiction, I want red.

Is any of this real?

If I could go for seventeen years thinking I was something when in reality I was nothing how else could I be fooled? This could all be some sort of cunning fabrication and in reality I am just as powerless as the dummy's throat I just slit. What if I was never meant to have red? Suddenly, I am enraged, I clutch the hilt tighter in my fist and thrust the tip down into the fallen dummy's chest, puncturing a fresh cavity followed by a spurt of crimson.

"H...How did you do that?" A voice sounds and my head instantly snaps to the source of the noise. A boy with black hair and a skinny frame, I instantly notice the stitched 9 on the arm of his training shirt. I swear, the nervousness radiating from the boy is practically tangible in the air between us.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I respond, keeping my grinning slightly. I let the sword clatter to the ground. "I just did it, nothing more to it." Honestly, there was nothing more to say. He has never seen the inside of a career center and he probably won't be able to emulate what I just did in a day. This is supposed to be realistic after all.