note. thank you my amazing, hardworking beta: born_reader.
Ihr seid die Schönste hier,
Aber Schneewittchen ist tausendmal schöner als Ihr."
A little girl in a school uniform — a black sailor suit with a white necktie and a pleated white skirt, thigh-high black socks and white penny loafers — stood in front of the Prime Minister's office.
The two suited bodyguards exchanged looks of confusion.
The girl — probably aged between 9 or 10 years old — was holding a bloodied katana in one hand and the wooden sheath in the other. Her hair was soaking with blood (they cannot decipher what the color of her hair was) and her left cheek was splashed with droplets of blood. However, her uniform remained bloodless.
"Hello," The girl said while bowing respectfully.
"Nice to meet you!" She smiled. "Can I see the Prime Minister?"
They didn't hesitate answering: "No." There was something off with this small girl.
"Why?" The girl's smile, for one thing, was eerily innocent.
"What do you want from the Minister?"
The girl's large eyes blinked innocently. "I want his heart."
And those large eyes… They were creepy— disturbingly beautiful. They were filled with innocence— too much, ridiculously— that they unnerved the full-grown men. Almost frightened or already anxious, they stepped back, eyeing the child suspiciously.
"Please, let me see him."
Her eyes met theirs. Their hearts raced, slowed, then raced again. What the—
Green. And… gold?
The little girl took a step forward.
They retreated a few steps back.
How could she look so damn innocent with those weird eyes? The blood on her hair was thick, too red. Droplets hit the floor as she walked, blood ran down her cheek. The combination was unpleasant.
The guards felt sick. Extremely. Something was wrong. Off. A graceful holiness combined with evilness.
"Step back, girl," one of them bravely spoke.
"I don't want to hurt you—" The girl was too small to hurt a full-grown adult. "Please, let me see him!"
One of the guards took out his gun while the other called for back-up but no one answered his call. "STEP BACK, GIRL!" the man with the gun yelled frantically. He was starting to hate those eyes.
—stop looking at me! His mind screamed, stop, stop, DON'T LOOK AT ME!
In his confused daze, he heard faint sounds of carillon.
Faint, but distinct.
…bells? The guards thought.
"I don't want to kill people but I have to! Do you understand?" She saw them cringed at the sight of her eyes.
She lowered her long lashes.
"Do you hate me? You're cringing at the sight of me. Am I hideous?"
She lifted her long katana.
"WHAT THE HELL—"
The bells, from the dreamy distance, stopped ringing.
Blood splashed everywhere, hitting the white walls, the wooden floor and her skirt. Two heads soared above only to drop onto the floor with a dull thud. Soon after, bodies thumped the floor.
She blinked as a streak of blood hit her cheeks and nose. The blood pooled onto the tip of her small nose before dropping to the ground. Thick red covered the smooth steel of the katana. Slowly, she wiped her bloodied hand on her white skirt and reached up to grasp the knob of the door with her small hand. The door was heavy, so she had to use her entire weight to push it open.
Her arrival was met by deafening silence.
"Konnichiwa, Prime Minister." Chin-length hair, streaked with red swung forward as she bowed her head. The man sitting on the high-backed, leather swivel chair kept his back to her, facing the window of his office.
After a moment of cold silence, he said, "Hn."
She took a step forward, dragging her long bloodied sword behind her. The sound of the sword scratching the wooden-planked floor was flat, sharp. The sword was long, as long as her whole body.
"I'm here to ease your pain and give you comfort."
Her eyelids lifted, long lashes lifting.
"Give me your heart."
The man finally turned his chair to face her. Black hair and onyx eyes.
"You have beautiful eyes, Minister."
She smiled. And he found her smile beautiful. "Do you love fairy tales?"
He contemplated what to answer. "Yes."
"Which one?" Her footsteps stopped. Pale skin, like snowflakes, glimmered under the layers of blood.
This time, he said the first story that came up in his mind. "Snow White." It suited the girl's appearance: snow-white skin, red lips.
"Wow! You and my mother loved the same fairy tale, Minister." Her smile widened. "What a coincidence." Her voice lowered delicately.
A bead of blood dropped from her cheek to the collar of her uniform. Prime Minister watched this with a deadpanned expression.
Her pale skin spoke of solitude. Of barren, cold solitude.
"But my mother… she said: the ending— that everybody knows, is a lie."
Dark eyes blinked slowly, before focusing on her. "You're here to kill me."
She blinked, almost sadly. "I'm sorry…"
"Why talk about fairytales?" he asked silently.
Her lashes lowered, veiling her eyes. "Fairytales are pretty, but if you look closely— really closely, they're full of deceit." Her smile, too— a lie. Her voice, too— a fantasy. Her eyes, too—
"I don't like fairytales."
He glanced at the black photo frame that housed a family picture, standing at the right corner of his desk. His gaze swept over the organized clutter— Kafka, Capote, Shelley, Jesus, Interrupted, an art book (Pop Art, Impressionism, Cezanne), official documents, folders, and—
—a calendar, with a date encircled in red.
Dark eyes swept back to the tiny girl at the middle of his wide office. She looked so small, a tiny statue inside his spacious office. A thin pool of blood gathered under her white loafers. "…he ordered you to kill me."
She stared, like the way dolls stare at you. But this doll was different. Not made of glass. But of gold. And snowflakes. And fairy dusts. And mirrors. Her stare mirrored his third heart— his most secretive heart. A smile of angelic innocence made her even more radiant.
"I really have to kill you."
Her eyes shifted colors. And the Minister was dumbfounded. Such eyes—
She must have noticed his astonishment. "…why? Is it… my eyes?"
The Prime Minister looked grim. "Yes."
"Oh. Are they hateful?" her small hand gestured at her face.
"I don't hate them."
He was rewarded with a bright smile. "I like you, Prime Minister. You are honest… Your heart is true. And because I really like you, I'll do this fast. I won't make you suffer."
"Looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?"
She lifted a small, thin hand. "Give me your heart."
A symphony of bells.
Who in this land is the fairest of them all?
He closed his eyes, his beautiful eyes.
There was no pain.
And cold tears.
Her small, delicate voice…
"…thank you, Minister. Thank you."
A boy with black hair, onyx eyes and pale skin skipped along the corridor. He was tall for his age, with the most unusual hair style that made him stick out in the crowd. His older brother told him to go and fetch his father to have lunch with them. His father was a busy man, an important man in an important building. National Diet Building was like a museum in size, but he knew his way around this place. His father's office was located on the fifth floor.
Abruptly, he stopped, eyes wide. The walls were covered in thick drippy blood, as well as the floor. He moved back, eyes wide in terror as he saw the corpses, dismembered limbs and decapitated heads scattering the floor.
It was the corridor of the Prime Minister's Office.
Waving off his fear, horrified, he ran to his father's room, ignoring the bloody mess. The door was opened and two decapitated bodies were in the doorway. He moved his feet forward but stopped—
A little girl in sailor suit with white necktie stepped out of the room, clutching a sword and a—
Their eyes met.
He stared hard into her eyes: beautiful. As if drowning him, inviting him. He was helplessly drawn to those eyes.
She smiled and he felt his stomach clench. It was such a beautiful innocent smile… and then, she turned and walked away, disappearing to a corner.
He remained standing there, fascinated, staring, drawn in a dreamlike beauty. Suddenly, there were noises and heavy footsteps.
"Commander! We were infiltrated! Taichou—"
"Search the perimeter! Block all exits—"
"Jiraiya-taichou, the corridor—"
"BLOCK ALL EXITS! NOW!"
Voices filled the corridor and a yell roared over the hubbub: "THE PRIME MINISTER IS DEAD! OH GOD! HE'S DEAD! THEY TOOK OUT HIS HEART!"
His eyes widened. His heart sank into the abyss. His… father… dead? No. No, no… It cannot be.
Like in a nightmare, in a slow-motion horror movie, he slowly turned his head around and his eyes found the interior of office. His wide eyes took in the sight.
As the scene inside the office sunk in, the memory of beautiful large eyes faded.
There was a broken scream.
Es war einmal mitten im Winter, und die Schneeflocken fielen wie Federn vom Himmel herab.
My mother was a beautiful woman. She was intelligent and a talented fairytale book illustrator. However, she was eerie; even I would always feel nervous at her presence.
She would always read Schneewitcchen to me every night. Ever since I learned to understand the things I hear and see, she had read the story to me, reading the same story over and over again. I once asked her to read a different story (in a language I can understand) but she gave me a frightening glare and I didn't speak of changing the story she read to me ever again.
Da saß eine Königin an einem Fenster, das einen Rahmen von schwarzem Ebenholz hatte, und nähte.
I was four when I asked her about my father. I later regretted asking because she ended up slapping my face so hard and screaming to my face: how she hated me, how she wished I was never born, how she regretted letting me live, how she loathed my face… and how she hated my eyes…
I never hated her. In fact, I loved her even though she was cold and had never looked in my eyes. I even think she didn't know my face.
She never looked at me.
Und wie sie so nähte und nach dem Schnee aufblickte,
I was nine when she tried to kill me. We were eating lunch in a cafeteria near the Tokyo Church when she suddenly froze, her eyes wide, filled with horror and hatred.
She was looking at me for the first time and I was so happy… But her eyes were popping with madness and I was confused.
What's wrong with me? Do I look like a monster in her eyes? Is there something wrong with my face?
Something was indeed wrong.
Something was wrong with my face.
It was my eyes.
"MONSTER!" she shrieked. People around us were stricken at her scream and they gasped as my mother jumped on me and started to strangle me. I was crying with fear.
My mother… I can't believe she actually tried to kill me.
The people inside started to panic— I was turning blue. They had a hard time hauling her off. Finally, two burly men were able to get her off me.
She was screaming: "MONSTER! MONSTER! I'LL KILL YOU! YOU DESERVE TO DIE! KILL HER! KILL HER! SHE'S A GODCHILD!"
I was horrified. She despised me. How could a mother despise her own child? I lost consciousness due to lack of oxygen.
stach sie sich mit der Nadel in den Finger,
When I woke up, I was in a hospital run by nuns. When they looked in my eyes, they cringed— they cringed in disgust. Soon, everyone— every nun didn't look at me again.
I realized their actions resembled my mother's. But it didn't hurt. They didn't matter. Only my mother mattered to me. My mother… my mother—
I ran away from the hospital, looking for my mother. I met a stranger with long hair and snake-like eyes. I instantly liked him. He was the first person who looked in my eyes and didn't cringe. In fact, he gave me smile.
"My child, you have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."
I was overjoyed. Finally…someone who appreciated my existence.
"Are you looking for your mother?"
"I'll bring you to her."
I smiled and hopped inside his car. He brought me to a renowned hospital in Tokyo.
"It was I who brought your mother here. She needs medical help." He said.
…und es fielen drei Tropfen Blut in den Schnee.
I found my mother in a white room with a glass window where a visitor can look and see the patient inside.
"Mama!" I cried out once I saw her.
"She can't hear you." He said.
"You don't hate her?"
"No." I shook my head.
"Even though she tried to kill you?"
"She's my mother. She's all I have. My father… he's gone."
The man smiled. "No. Your father is still alive."
I stared at him, fascinated.
"But he just can't be yourfather."
"Because he's a father to everyone,"
"A father… to everyone? I…I don't understand…"
He laughed. "Your father is a…"
Und weil das Rote im weißen Schnee so schön aussah,
I watched my mother through the glass. The doctors explained to me that my mother had gone insane, I was 9 but I knew what they were trying to say.
"Will she ever recover?"
The doctor hesitated. "It's up to her."
It didn't give me comfort.
dachte sie bei sich:
They allowed me to talk to her. I was ecstatic. I ran to her and hugged her around her waist.
"Mama!" I said happily.
She looked down to me blankly. Her eyes were large, and very… dead.
"Mama, it's me!"
She touched my cheek. Her hand was cold. "Do you love me?" I found her question odd.
"I do! I love you very much!"
"Will you do anything for me?"
"Yes! If it's for your happiness, I'll do anything!"
She kneeled down in front of me so that my face was in front of hers. She held my face with both of her hands. Her cold finges caressed my face as she bent down to whisper in my ear:
"Take my heart." She said.
My eyes widened.
"Kill me," She whispered.
Hätt' ich ein Kind,
I told him about it. He smiled at me while patting my head. "Do what she wished."
"I will kill… her?"
"Yes. It's her wish. Fulfill it."
I stared at him. He gave me a knife. "Don't worry. I'll take care of everything."
"If you really love her," he smiled, his eyes crinkling. "You'll do it. You'll do anything for the person you love."
I took the knife and returned to my mother.
so weiß wie Schnee,
"Do you love me?"
I do! I love you very much!
"Will you do anything for me?"
Yes! If it's for your happiness, I'll do anything! Anything…
She was smiling when I killed her.
"T-thank you…" she whispered, blood trickling down her chin.
She looked in my eyes for the very first time and she didn't cringe. Oh, Mama… Mama… I love you, I love you the most! My blessed Mama…
She reached up to touch my face. "Too much…innocence…"
"I don't hate you…" That made me smile. And I was happy.
She was very beautiful. And I love her. I love you. I love you.
I didn't notice.
I was crying.
so rot wie Blut und so schwarz wie das Holz an dem Rahmen!
It was raining when Mama was buried. Her tombstone was empty, it bore no name. Now, I'm all alone. Such solitude… it was painful. My father was alive but I can't live with him. A priest was not supposed to have a child…
"Don't be sad, Sakura-chan." He kneeled down before me, his hands resting on my shoulders. "You're not going to be alone." He smiled at me.
He looked… so much like Mama.
"From now on, I'm going to be your new mother."
"…!" I looked up to his snake eyes.
"Together, the two of us will be a happy family."
He touched my cheek. "Starting today, I will be your Orochimaru-jichan."
"And you will be my Sakura-chan."
"Hai." He clasped his large hands with mine. "You and I will be a family. I will never leave you. I will never hate you. I will always need you."
"Hai. I will be someone who will always need you."
My heart ached. "Someone who will need me… someone who will never leave me… someone who will never hate me…"
"I don't hate you…"
He's… going to be my mother.
"Hai. Because from now on,"
He held my face.
"…you are my beloved child."
"Looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?"
His beloved child.
I am Orochimaru-jichan's beloved child. I will do anything for someone who will never hate me.
Because I am his beloved child.
That's why when I turned 10 years old, I killed a man with black hair and onyx eyes. I didn't even know his name. But I knew his face. Only his face.
And he's a Prime Minister. I killed him exactly the way I killed my mother.
I took out his honest, most precious heart.
"Thou art fairer than all who are here, lady queen…
10 years later.
Kabuto showed her a picture without a name. He smiled and she blinked.
"You know what to do."
She nodded and looked down to the picture of a man with black hair and dark eyes.
Kabuto smiled. "Orochimaru-sama's last orders,"
She looked up expectantly.
"He said: Come home safely."
She smiled, put on a mask of a half-crying half-laughing clown —SWOOSH— and vanished.
The room was dark, dimly lit by a halogen bulb from a lampshade.
CRASH. A sound of shattering glass.
Uchiha Shishui looked up, alarmed. A slim figure leapt through the broken window, crashing down to him, and causing him to hit the floor on his back. He groaned as he felt the intruder's weight pressing down on his chest and a hand grasping his neck. Something cold was pushed hard against his carotid artery.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
The voice was soft and angelic.
"I don't know you. I don't even know your name. I don't know why I have to kill you. I don't know why you deserve to die. But this is my mission. I have to kill you."
"I'm sorry," The voice said and Shishui closed his eyes as he felt a sword run through his heart.
"…can… can I… s-see y-your…f-face?"
The person above him tensed.
"I'm going t-to die anyway… Let me see your e-eyes…"
A moment of hesitation— and a gloved hand pulled up the mask of a half-crying half-laughing clown. It revealed a beautiful face, the face of the person who killed 19 men, 4 children and 2 women in the past 10 years…
A ghost of a smile crossed Shishui's calm face. "Beautiful…"
A puddle of blood was slowly forming under his body. "Your eyes… too much innocence…"
Innocent eyes widened.
"Too much… innocence…"
Her mother told her the same thing.
"Too much innocence in those… eyes…" Shishui continued, looking deeply in those eyes of innocence. "Because of that…I don't hate you…"
"I don't hate you…"
The assassin bit her lower lip. And slowly, she took out his heart. CRASH— the door burst open. And a roar—
She pulled down the mask to hide her identity.
There were gunshots, deafening and deadly. The assassin rolled off Shishui, diving behind a desk and then peeked through the gap of the desk. Who? The gunman was clad in black and wearing a white mask with intricate red designs.
The eyes behind the laughing mask widened. A name…
Gunshots filled the room.
The assassin pulled two kunais from the holster and threw them with uncanny accuracy, forcing the gunman to duck out of sight. The assassin took a high jump in the air, flipped, while drawing a sword.
The masked gunman had no weapons to block the blade of the sword but – CLANG! — Another white masked figure with spiky hair jumped in front of him, holding up a katana, blocking the assassin's sword.
The assassin was forced to back dive then dove behind a chest of drawers as the two white masked figures drew guns and shot at her.
CRASH— Another window shattered. Another slender assassin with a mask appeared, standing on the windowsill, clutching a machine gun.
The two in white masks flung themselves behind the huge sofa as shower of bullets hit the wall behind them. The newcomer holding the machine gun gave her partner a nod. The shorter assassin nodded back, flipped, landing beside the newcomer.
The newcomer nodded. Silence— and then the machine gun was dropped, the heart was thrown and the latecomer leapt backward first, leaving the younger assassin standing on the windowsill.
The two white-masked men cautiously looked up from the sofa to gaze at the assassin bathed in moonlight. The assassin wore a white crying/laughing clown mask and a billowing red cloak with wide hood. They could not tell if it was a male or female.
The assassin leapt backward, down to the treetops below and disappeared to the darkness.
"Shit!" the younger white-masked man ran to the window. "They're gone, niisan."
The older man rushed to Shishui. "Shishui!" He exclaimed, taking off his mask.
"We will bring you to the hospital." Itachi said.
The younger man came to Shishui's side. "Shishui-san…"
"Don't talk." Sasuke said urgently. "Conserve your strength." He took off his mask to reveal a young beautiful face.
"Yeah. Sasuke, call an ambulance." Itachi barked.
Shishui coughed out blood. "N-no need…my heart…gone—"
The siblings shivered. His heart… gone? They looked down to the hollow in his chest. "SHIT! Shishui, don't give up!" Itachi snapped. But they both knew he's dying. The brain will die due to lack of oxygen since the heart which pumped blood to the brain was gone. It was a miracle Shishui was still alive after 7-8 minutes.
"You're our current clan leader! We are the ONLY three Uchihas left!" Sasuke hissed.
"Who did this to you? Tell us!" Itachi said.
The only sound was the dull ticking of an old clock.
"Did you see his face?" asked Sasuke.
A glimpse of the assassin's face flashed to his mind's eye. "Y-yes…" Shishui whispered.
"What does he look like?"
Shishui closed his eyes.
He was dead.
"Shishui-san!" Sasuke growled, clutching Shishui's shoulder. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, they were red with three wheels.
"…kuso." he roared. "I… I will find you… I swear I will and someday… I will kill you."
An image of a crying/laughing clown mask flashed before his fiery eyes.
"I live only to kill the person who killed my family. I will survive to destroy the person behind that mask… who took my parent's hearts!" he swore under his breath.
For when my father was found dead in his office ten years ago, Mother's heart broke, died and went with Father to his grave.
Red swirled, wheels moved.
"I will kill you…!" Sasuke growled.
The two assassins were crouching on a tree branch. "Are you injured?" the taller assassin asked.
"You came just in time with your machine gun, Colombina-san. Thank you."
"Blah. No need for names like that. Change back to your dress…" The older woman took off her mask.
The red assassin slowly pulled off her crying/laughing clown mask, revealing the face of a girl with pink hair and green eyes.
Once upon a time in the middle of winter, when the flakes of snow were falling like feathers from the sky, a queen sat at a window sewing, and the frame of the window was made of black ebony.
And whilst she was sewing and looking out of the window at the snow, she pricked her finger with the needle, and three drops of blood fell upon the snow. And the red looked pretty upon the white snow, and she thought to herself:
…would that be me that would have a child as white as snow,
as red as blood,
and as black as the wood of the window-frame.