Turning Into

written by: hikari (adriana santomé)
date: March 23rd, 2003
revised: April 14th, 2006
notes: weird, plain weird...


Kyouyama Anna was dead.

It is true… The cold, bitter girl by the name of Kyouyama Anna was dead.

She was gone for good.

She was eccentric, lonely, and mostly, a quiet girl. Out of ordinary. A smile crossed her face on few times, on rare times, on those when nobody saw her… or so she thought. She was able to loose her nerve in matter of seconds and it took ages to calm her down.

She was a strong, emotionless itako, the perfect itako. A turmoil of feelings hidden behind cold, expressionless eyes. A mask she had perfected over years of training. She was fearless… Very powerful indeed, but even more beautiful. Maybe not to the usual standards, but beautiful in the very basic essence of the word.

And now, she was dead, as plain as the word could be.

It had happened so bloody quick. Too quick.

Why did it happen?

When did it happened?


Too many questions, many left unanswered.

It just had to… during the night, under the starry sky… as promised.

She was dressed in a silky, white kimono with embroidered, golden sakuras. Her golden brown colored hair had been beautifully adorned with tiny white flowers. Wild flowers, like herself. The soft curls of hair hung loosely over her pale face and rosy cheeks.

And then it had hit her. Her face has turned as white as a ghost when she felt it happen, as she felt a strange surge of energy go through her body. The butterflies made churning turns in her stomach.

And yet, she was happy.

She was… free…

Yoh, her fiancé, had been nervous, anxious… for he had waited impatiently for this day to arrive. And it had finally did. He never felt such rush of adrenaline before. He, too, was shocked when it happened... when Kyouyama Anna died, at a very young age.

It was true, she had died that day, on her wedding day.

She had walked in a slow pace into the small temple, hands trembling as she avoided to bit her bottom lip, gripping tightly the bouquet of simple white flowers. Her nuckles had turned white.

She had to be strong.

Within what seemed and eternity, it happened. And the room was filled in murmurs.

Kyouyama Anna was dead.

And... in her place, Asakura Anna walked back, husband in arm.