Run.

To you, who will die by my hands this lifetime:

You do not know who I am right now, and that is fine.

[Or perhaps, maybe a change of words should be in order; 'fine' undermines safety and reassurance- perhaps 'permissible' would be more to your liking.]

You shall not realize who I am, by the time you lay gasping underneath my hands, pleading and begging like the weak urchin you are, your eyes gouged out with the pain you had once inflicted. Ah, how you had once belittled others, calling them weak and them pushing them; when in reality you are the most pitiful of them all. You shall be pleading for breath, your hands frail and your neck brittle, while I stare down at you, mocking you and your weakness.

Your eyes, those eyes which I had once deemed the strangest, the most miraculous, of all kind, will be no more than empty sockets dripping with rusted liquid; and no more shall your eyes be unique, for I have seen my fair share of soulless emptiness in others' eyes. Your hair, which is by far of the most vibrant and unforgiving colour I have ever seen, shall be dirtied by the hands of death, and the falling strands shall end up in the palm of my hands.

I care not of the consequences; you have haunted me, haunted my deaths, even though I know you not. I have been locked up, been detained by the cruel hands of those you once dubbed 'heroes', because of your image in my vision. I know you not, but I can 'sense' you. And I shall wreak the havoc you've caused onto my life.

So, you, whom I have written this letter to:

Run.

To you, whom I have written this letter to:

Oh, I absolutely loathe your skin. It's a porcelain kind of skin; smooth and unblemished, unlike the others who have cracks and breaks. Oh, how your disgusting hair and miserable eyes contrast against the fragile white canvas of your skin. How disgusting. How weak. Why would someone who sneers derisively at others for being weak allow himself to have such delicate skin? How easily it'd be broken; how easily a blade could drag itself along.

I never realized how revolting you were in real life.

Oh, to you whose name I do not know, oh how I loathe you. I hate those imbeciles you always have around you as well; but then again, they say 'like attracts like'. Oh, how I utterly despise people- or dare I say creatures?- like you. Why I even bothered to go this far, to transfer myself into your class, is a mystery that annoys me; oh, but I guess, it is better than being detained in a testing facility, treated like a monster who could do too much yet do nothing at all. Oh, how those 'heroes' looked at me; with disgust and revolt, they prodded at me, cut me open until I screamed, just to find out why, why, why I could see you!

Oh, how you caused me such misery; while you, you, you were living, I was treated as if I wasn't alive!

So, you, who is the cause of all of my misery:

You haunt me. But oh, how they say one should face their fears! So, despite my fears of you, and what comes with being able to see you ...soon you shan't scare me.

Run.

To you, who has settled yourself in the seat next to mine:

Why? Oh, why, why? Why would you come over here with those daunting eyes of yours, that ghastly hair of yours ghosting over my shoulder, those eyes of yours playfully dancing around? Even intimidating you doesn't work, and are you daft? You don't even notice. Oh, but I suppose it might be part of your ruse to convince everyone of how strong you are; even so, you are weak in my eyes. My horrible, horrible eyes, who have been the bane of my existence, for seeing things I shouldn't see.

I've always had a knack at intimidating others, that shouldn't have come with a young girl like myself, they told me. They've said that my eyes have the ability to see you, and that my eyes are wonderful and unique, but oh, your eyes are almost despicable! I can't look away from how wretched they are, deep and mocking and cruel as they are, and I could almost be drawn into them! Oh, how horrendous they are!

You introduce yourself with a glare, as do I, and I almost just want to pounce on you and tear you apart! Oh, how I even hate your name! That loathsome colour has now introduced itself as your name, and I repeat it in my mind, and the name tastes bleak on my tongue.

Silver.

A egregious colour for an abhorrent monster.

And I never realized how much my own name could sound so discordant, so out of harmony, until it split out from your tongue.

Kris.

Oh, how strange my name sounds on your tongue, and even you seem to notice it! You say my name, over and over again, as if you know how much it aggravates me and irks me, and I almost want to tear away your lungs right now so you'll be out of breath! No, but instead, I repeat your name over and over again, in my mind, because it tastes so horrible on my tongue that surely even you know it.

So, you, whom I honestly loathe so much I just want to take your breath away, not even caring how I do it:

Even if it's crossed my mind, I will not take your breath with my lips. But your body may be mangled at the end of your life.

Run.

To you, who keeps on bantering with me during class:

Silence. You are terribly annoying. Oh, how much you aggravate me, with your voice that's so hypnotizing it sounds like you're a male siren, and your fingers so long and delicate they put my chubby ones to shame. Oh, how you outshine me at everything without even trying- are you wishing to have me kill you sooner? Ah, how ugly your face looks, marred by that scowl all the time; how others can stand it, I barely know.

Oh, how I want to run my fingers through your hair, to see how dirty and rough it is; oh, I would feel the strands gently falling one by one, and you would look at me with those eyes I hate, annoyance in your eyes. Oh, how stiff you would be; as if you were scared that I'd kill you, which of course, is a possibility. But then I would smile to give you a false sign of reassurance, and then I would continue sifting through your hair, watching you slowly relax as you put your trust in the one who's going to kill you.

Oh, how you're looking at me at this moment, your eyes showing weakness and vulnerability as you ask me what is wrong; oh, everything, everyone, you.

Oh, so you grasp my hand behind the desk, hiding it from everyone, and I feel overly warn right now because how dare you appear so calm and collected when you're holding hands with someone, the very same hands which will eventually take the life out of you! How dare I be the only one bothered by this whole thing, and how dare you purposely do this just to bother me! I see that smirk of yours, and I just want to rub it off of your face, so I lift my hand up to rub your mouth; only to find that you're staring at me, ugly eyes wide open and mouth slightly open, and I just want to shut it because your voice is so horrendous, it makes me just want to shake!

And the whole class is looking at us now, and I'm trying to collect myself and I'm pretty sure my face is red, but your hair is so red that even if the tips of your ears were to get red, there would be no difference! How dare you try to embarrass me in front of the whole class! Arceus, and wipe off that disgusting smile off of your ugly face; oh, why, why, why would you ever do something so horrendous? Why would you embarrass me? Arceus, I hate you, I hate you, I really hate you!

So, you, who makes me embarrassed and feel foolish easily:

I swear I will kill you soon.

Run.

To you, who for some stupid reason has taken me out to the park:

Why the hell aren't you afraid of me? I swear, I thought your acquaintance Ethan was dense, but you're even more horribly so! Oh, with your grouchy furrowed eyebrows, how do you not even know how captivating your appearance is to the general public? You look like trash and ugliness personified; although those girls who have 'subtly' crashed into you appear to think otherwise.

And oh god, why the hell are those girls pretending to crash into you? Oh, they stammer, and they look bashfully away, and I'm just standing next to you, glaring at you, to go and chase them away! Oh, but of course, now you play the goddamned gentleman, and send them away with a smile! What the hell!? How are you that calm when your killer is standing next to you? Why aren't those girls leaving!?

And one of them even knows you, and she calls out to you, and I feel like retching when I hear her name come out of your mouth. God, how revolting everything that comes out of your mouth sounds; hypnotizing, wretched, vile! And you look at me, from the side of your eye, and then you smile, covering your smile with your hand. Oh, you call her name again!

Lyra.

Do you think this is funny!?

I'm trying to get your weaknesses here! I already know so much, and now those girls have interrupted! I know that your favourite colour is carmine red, I know that you started off as an orphan running the streets until you found your real father, I know you absolutely hate crime, I know your favourite food and favourite everything and I could probably poison that stupid dragonfruit you adore so much so you could die of poison, but why are you ignoring me!? I'm going to be your killer! If you don't take me seriously, how the hell am I supposed to kill you!?

So, you, who doesn't care about me nearly as much as you care about that stupid Lyra:

I swear, if I don't kill you, I'm going to go kill myself if I can't bring this pain onto you. I'm not going to bother talking to you until I find a sure way to kill you.

Run, bastard.

To you, who apparently is so sad, everyone is blaming me for your sorrows:

What the hell is wrong with you? You're glancing at me every other second, hands twitching and mouth set in a firm line, and when I meet your gaze, you turn away. I don't bother to ask you, of course, because I'm busy trying to think of ways to kill you; but all of a sudden, those stupid friends of yours are glaring at me. What the hell did I do? Seriously, get your friends off of my nonexistent tail! It's not my fault the teacher assigned our seats for the rest of the year! God, that Lyra is glaring at me, and I stick up the middle finger; apparently, it's a sign of offense, even though they never told me that in the institution where I was locked up.

Why the hell is everyone so pissed at me all of a sudden? I mean, sure, I hate them all and they all hate me, but why the hell would they choose this week? And why the hell are they all blaming me of breaking your heart? Hell, I planned to tear your heart out; is that what they mean? If it is, then goddammit, someone else got to it before me. Who else would hate you, Silver, so much that they'd rip your heart out of his chest? More importantly, how did you survive that? Aren't you supposed to die, your brain cells dying off quickly, if you have a loss of blood? If your heart was torn out, surely you would've lost the whole flow of blood, and loss of oxygenated blood would occur? How did you survive that? I want to ask you, but your friends won't let me anywhere near you, and so I give up.

I decide to ask one last time, at the end of the day, but again, I'm stopped by your friends. So, I give up. I might as well give up on killing you, if you somehow survived that; I might as well just transfer away as well, because honestly, you are a lot more annoying than I thought you would be. So I walk away, rather energetically, I might add, until I hear you call out my name.

"Kris!"

And when I turn back to look at you, I find that you've already caught up to me, the tips of your ears so red that they even distinguish themselves from your hair, and you stare down at me with your annoying eyes and how the hell are you that tall, and then I can see your eyes are holding weakness in them, but you don't care. You grab me by the shoulders, and I have to admit, I'm surprised because why the hell would you do that? I don't like being touched.

"Please don't break up with me!"

And then I'm confused.

"...What's breaking up?"

And then the relief in your eyes is palpable, and I still don't understand how asking what 'breaking up' is made you feel relieved, but then you grab onto my hand, and then everything is suddenly really confusing. Holy crap, wait, what the hell's going on? You're smiling again, and everyone around you is slapping your back goodheartedly, and then Ethan and Lyra are coming up to me, telling me to never hurt you like that ever again, and then I'm struck by the horrible revelation of the truth. God, this never happened at the institution.

So, you, you little dumbass who I never even knew I started dating:

I'm still going to kill you, but how the hell did you even think we were dating?

...I would say run, but how the hell did this happen?

To you, who has somehow become my boyfriend without my even knowing:

I'm still going to kill you, but at least I should appreciate the kind thought you've had, and join you for a picnic.

Your cooking is oddly good, and I swear, do you plan on pissing me off every single time I'm around you by being better than me? How the hell are you a master of all trades, you little insolent cockroach!? It's honestly not fair, but taking a rather large bite of the pasta you've brought (how the hell did you even bring tortellini to this picnic?), I have to admit, disgruntled, that you're amazing at many things. Hell, I'm pretty sure you're in some sports too; it's just that I haven't bothered to check. God, if you're good at sports too, I'm really going to be afraid of when I actually try to kill you, so I've never gone once. I've gotten some glares from Lyra for that though. She says that girlfriends are supposed to cheer their boyfriends on whenever they play. I thought about remarking how I didn't even know that I was your girlfriend, but then that would be even worse.

Man, I hope you know that I'm taking time to think about how I'll kill you.

Maybe you shouldn't deserve such a violent death.

So, while I'm actually feeling nice for the first time in a while, you manage to ruin it, I am of course pissed.

"You look stupid eating, you know."

Oh, this is on. You're looking at me with those condescending eyes of yours, and I'll tear them out completely because I hate being told I'm stupid and the like, but when you notice my fury, you start laughing! How rude are you!? You pat my head, and then tell me those stupid words:

"..You look cute, though."

And then you managed to kiss me while I'm still eating, and I swear, if it weren't for the fact that my mouth was full of pasta goodness I would kick your ass right now, right here, but for the sake of the food, I manage to swallow before headbutting you. You then stand up, scared, and I chase you.

So, you, who's still laughing at me even when I'm chasing after you, ready to kick your ass:

Run, you little bastard!

...To you, who took me to a cliff near a lake where you could possibly die:

...You're an idiot. You really are. There were wild Beedrill and wild Ursaring and the like, and even though you said that I could lead the way, I still got us lost. Great. I had maybe hoped that I would be able to kill you today, where it'd be logical if you were to be attacked by a wild Pokemon and such. But instead of you being attacked by Ursaring or stung by Beedrill protecting their colony, instead, I was attacked. It was stupid, and I was afraid, but you were the one who picked me up and started running, and when we had run far enough, almost collapsed; you stupid idiot, why the hell didn't you tell me you had exercise induced asthma!?

So, I'm watching you try to regain your breath, and I'm scared as hell because I don't know what to do, but I find your inhaler and I almost shove it in your mouth; and I spray once, clamping your mouth tight, and then twenty seconds later I do it a second time, until your breathing gradually gets stable again, and I sigh in relief.

Oh god.

Oh god.

I almost lost you.

You didn't even die by my hands yet; you couldn't die...

So you leaned on me, breathing still a little erratic, and we walked slowly towards the health center located near the forest, and I sat by you the whole damn time while we waited for the paramedics.

You idiot. Arceus, you idiot.

So, you, the idiot who had ran an absurd five miles in thirty minutes who had exercise induced asthma:

...Idiot. I didn't even want to know this weakness of yours. I'm not going to take advantage of this. So that's why you don't run, even though I want you to. Arceus.

...Don't run, idiot. I'm not worth it.

To you, the idiot who had decided to save me one more time:

O-oh god. Oh god, you idiot. Goddammit, why? Why? Why? Oh god, I'm screaming over you right now, and you're not responding and everyone's frantic and on their phones dialing 119, and I'm just staring down at you, not understanding why the hell you did something like that? Why? Oh Arceus, why? And they're telling me that you're going to be alright, but I know you're not going to be, because your eyes are now empty and blood covered and gorey and I'm still shocked, and I want to tell myself to snap out of it but I can't.

You're not breathing.

Goddammit, I want to kill those damn 'heroes'. What kind of heroes were they? Oh god, they were searching for me this whole time; I just never realized it. I was stupid. I was stupid. God. How did I forget that they were to be searching for me? And now you're hurt. God.

Why? Why were you so goddamned stupid, to jump in my path? If they had crashed into me, they would've just taken me back. But you...you jumped right in front of it, trying to force them to stop before they hit me. They didn't think as me of a human, so even if I died, it wouldn't matter except in the name of science. And I would rather die than get captured back there again.

But...you, you moron who jumped in front of that rushing vehicle, why the hell did you do that? I don't need a goddamned hero, I don't need anyone! What am I going to do without you! God, I should've told you a long time ago that I had stopped trying to kill you, that I actually appreciated you, because when I said you'd die at my hands, I didn't mean this!

And oh god, they're hauling you to the hospital, and they're forcing me inside the ambulance too, for shock, and I don't dare to take my eyes off of you, and I'm hoping that there's going to be a miracle and that since you're good at everything, you'd be good at staying alive!

A-Arceus, you moron.

To you, the moron who I love and whom I've never thanked you or anything:

Why couldn't you have just run from me instead of for me?

...To you, the moron whose lifeline we just pulled:

Goddamnit, I hope you're happy up in Heaven.

...To you, who did die by my hands this lifetime:

...Next lifetime, run, you moron...!

[A/N]

Oh god, I'm just going to leave this hereeee /shot so, have a oneshot while my stories are painfully slow at being updated. Also, I was debating whether or not it should've been from Kris's side or Silver's side, but then it seemed like almost all the stories start with the guys hating the girl, so I wanted to change it a bit...ahaha/shot again

So, yeah! I did this because I was so happy about a very positive review on my other Redemptionshipping oneshot and wwww I'm still happy about it now ahahaaa to know that people actually like my writing www