@SMS @Crimmy @chukklehedYuuhei Seiho
Saturday Morning – Practice Building?
”Ah.”It wasn’t much of a response, but there was little else he could say as he stood there like a jackass in front of those unblinking golden eyes. Yuuhei felt his awful moment of realization drag on for what felt like an eternity as the gravity of his situation fully sunk in, his expression was one of reluctant acceptance. After all, not only had his cute little maneuver failed spectacularly, but now it would be even more difficult to try and get Natsumi and the other girl out of this mess. So in a way, he almost felt like he deserved whatever came next.
Before he could even try to haul his rear away from the proverbial coals, Yuuhei discovered that one of its disturbing black tentacles had already gotten a hold of his arm. As the slippery mass tightened around him, the blond clenched his jaw, hard, his gut telling him he wouldn’t like what came next.
Yuuhei casually looked to his side at the dark haired girl next to him, whose uniform was being ruined by the thick, red substance dripping down the wall.
”This is the part where you r-“He never got to finish his sentence, as the thing effortlessly flung him across the hallway.
It was a terrible few seconds for the blonde, as it gave him just enough time to regret everything he had ever done in his life to get him to this point, but not quite enough to even begin to consider what he should do next after his all too intimate introduction with the wall. The loud
smack that accompanied his introduction to the unsettling wet wall was followed by a sickening
thud as he gracelessly hit the ground, on the same arm that had been the slimy appendage’s playmate no less.
His eyes slammed shut and the obnoxious background scream was now joined by an equally obnoxious ringing. It rattled around his head endlessly and made it difficult for him to concentrate. The familiar weight of his glasses was gone, but he hardly had time to look for where they could have landed. Especially when his body was practically screaming in protest at the very idea of him moving quite yet. Not to mention the entire outside world was being drowned out by the excruciating pain he was in.
A simple test; can you state your name?
Somehow the voice managed to cut through all of it. It was a bit frightening, honestly, how clearly the president was able to make out the voice’s words.
’Some manners you have. Don’t you know you’re supposed to introduce yourself before asking for somebody’s name?’ Maybe it was the pain talking. Or maybe he was simply getting numb to all the unexplainable nonsense that surrounded him. But still, Yuuhei hardly had anything left to lose at this point, so he decided to humor the disembodied voice.
”Seiho… Yuuhei…” The words barely escaped his lips, his voice no more than a hoarse whisper, but the blond instantly felt something happen inside him.
The pain dulled, as if being chased off by the surge of energy that Yuuhei felt spreading to every pore of his being. His battered body felt light as it worked its way through him, amplifying itself over and over again. But the relief gave way to pain once more as it reached unbearable levels, as if it was trying to escape bloodily through him if it had to. A haggard scream poured out of him and filled the hallway as his good hand crashed into his forehead, as if to dam off the stream of pain that was now coursing straight to his temple.
What a sorry state you are in, my dear actor.
Once more, the boy’s pain was pierced through by a voice. But this time it was even stronger. Almost familiar.
You wear your two costumes marvelously, but tell me, which one is the true you? Are you really no more than the impulsive fool that dives head first into whatever catches his attention? Are you merely no more than the shy boy that measures twice, but never actually tries to make a cut of his own?
The question hit Yuuhei hard. He tried to swallow, but the overwhelming beating in his chest made the simple action difficult to accomplish. Much less answer such an existential question.
I have seen through your performance. In your desperate bid to release your true self, you have overshot your target and tried to deny half of what makes you who you are. And a performer like that can never truly leave the stage, will always be putting on a farce for others. Is that what you wish?
It wasn’t. Yuuhei stood firm – wait, when had he gotten to his feet? – and glared defiantly at the abomination before him.
Fear not, dear actor, for I am thou... And thou art I… Speak my name and I shall bestow upon your eyes some vanity of my art, so that we can draw these curtains to a close.
”Prospero,” the name he had never heard before came to him as easily as breathing. As did the order that followed.
”Turn this thing to ash.” Light danced across the hallway as a figure took its place beside Yuuhei. Red tatters made up its robe and hard iron its gauntlets. Where a face should have been, only a white orb peered through the void. Fire crackled into existence in both of its hands, somehow managing to make the act look borderline mischievous. Prospero looked every bit like a demon, ready to burn the world should his master ask him to.
