Amaranth
. . . fanfiction inspired by Weiss Kreuz. Standard disclaimers apply.

Yesterday there had been orchids and ferns, some lush tropical creation, adding to the display on the ledge. Today it was roses; a Sunday tradition. He set the wicker handbasket overflowing with red roses by her bedside, a perfect country style arrangement, tugging at the corner of the blue-and-white checked cheesecloth artfully peeking out from underneath the flowers to contrast and bring out the brilliant scarlet of the petals.

She hadn't changed the slightest since he last saw her. A still-frame snapshot, features frozen in time. Her condition never improved, never deteriorated. In her right hand she still fisted the earring, held it like a charm, a talisman, all its history pressed into her palm. She, the guardian of the memory. Lying there in comatose slumber, the last of the things he held dear, still, silent, unaging.

The last fact disturbed the doctors. She looked exactly the same as the day they had brought her in. Pulling up a chair, he looked down at her, the covers drawn up to her chin, skin so fair it would match the stark white hospital sheets if she were any paler. The fact was made even more apparent by the dark plaited hair framing her face. He carefully brushed back her fringe. His own hair colouring, a violent shade of red, was a far cry from her indigo. Genetic throwback, they used to say.

"Aya-chan..." he whispered, trailing fingers along the side of her face.

He wanted her mouth to curve in a smile, her laughter like so much music to spill forth, wanted to see her twirling dandelions and scatter their seeds with a giggling breath. He wanted to see her running, running down the driveway, swinging her satchel and telling him to hurry up we'll miss the bus if you don't silly Ran. He wanted to see her making toast in the morning and pretending to eat his share, whisking eggs and singing snatches of pop songs strung together in a self-composed medley. He wanted it all so badly.

"Wake up, Aya-chan," he pleaded softly. "Open your eyes, please. Open your eyes..."

And still, she sleeps.

Alexiel Au Yong, 17-11-02

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