Loves Me Not
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Shion liked wondering; playing games and thinking to the future, sometimes back to the past.
What would happen…
What would've happened?
She started to play the game when she was very, very young, about three or four. Perhaps when she first developed coherent speech, coherent thoughts.
What if I wasn't a twin? What if I was the only one? but being head of the Sonozaki family wasn't a role she particularly wanted. No, far from it. Even back then Shion knew. Knew things no child was meant to know, like the shed out back with all the pretty tools and pointy objects; knew that she was meant to be dead because she'd been born.
Shion didn't like to think about that very much.
And then, what if I ran away from boarding school? What if I dressed up as Mion? What if I went outside? and it had all been a game to her – a funfunfun game. A mystery story; every page a cliffhanger and every turn a surprise.
Shion had giggled when she tied her hair back, thinking how exciting this all was, and when he had patted her on the head it was still a game, still a story; but this time it was a fairystory, and she never got her happy ending.
Shion stopped laughing and started crying.
What would happen…
What would've happened?
What if she tore out her fingernails?
One for Kasai, one for Uncle and one for Shion…
No.
One for Satoshi.
Shion sat on the side of her bed; hands in her lap, staring. The ugly red marks had long since faded, giving birth to new nails. She had never been more grateful; hadn't there been that time when she painted them every day, just to remind herself that they were still there?
Then again, Shion was a selfish child.
How could she care about herself more than Satoshi?
It had hurt, yes, but surely this hurt – this whole year of hurting – was much, much, much worse?
"I'm sorry…" she whispered, raising her index finger to her lips, and she wasn't sure who was apologising to now. Satoshi? Herself? Either way, she was sorry. She was very, very sorry - "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" – and she was crying now, crying just like Satoko, and oh, how she hated that child, but she hated Shion more.
Her teeth sunk into her fingertip and she tasted blood – warm and red – and suddenly it all seemed so strange and crazy and absolutely terrifying that she began to giggle. voice sharp and rusty like the knives, axes and God knows what else that Mion kept outside, tears sparkling in her eyes and shadow cast across her face.
She was playing the game again now; that stupid, childish game of what if, what if, what if...
He loves me, he loves me not, yet this wasn't with a flower; it was with her own fingernails, and as each was ripped out with pointed teeth all stained with blood they fell to the floor, her bed, Shion continued to laugh and laugh and laugh.
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a.n: because shion is awesome, and just a little bit insane xD