Authoress Notice I've escaped, haha—I mean, I've returned, my fellow writers. I haven't read any stories lately or taken any trips around as online RPGs can become very distracting. Well, this is Sync's side of the story, for Wish, enjoy!
Disclaimer Lalala, I don't own Tales of the Abyss! Hah, I don't even have my own copy of the game yet! Stupid game stores never have it, or maybe I just have terrible timing.
You've killed her, eh?
I… don't care… I shouldn't.
She probably clung to me because I sounded like that pathetic replica of Ion, although there are very little differences between us. Ion and I, we were both garbage, just made to replace some stupid boy who didn't have the force to cling to his life, so they made us pathetic replicas. That memory was and still us so livid. Lined up at Mt. Zaleho, as everyone one by one fell into the lava and died. If I distinctly remember, it was going to be my turn soon, but then, the man leading the deaths halted everything. He looked me in the eye and claimed he would be taking me, giving me a life…
Life, you called this a life? Don't screw around. This isn't a life. It's slavery.
Why? Why did the Score say Ion had to die…? Why did it have to be right?
If it weren't for Yulia and her pathetic Score, I wouldn't have been stuck with this pathetic life.
So I decided to destroy the Score. I didn't care who it was that was going to lead me to the destruction of the Score, as long as it'd be destroyed. I don't care who it was! If they would destroy the reason I had to live this sick and twisted life, then that was good enough! I didn't care if I died in the process. As long as that sickening vision of the future was defeated, then I was far more then satisfied at death. That was all I was doing it for. I didn't care about the future of other people; I just hated the Score, that was all there was to it.
So if someone died?
I shouldn't care.
This is war.
There can never be a war where someone doesn't die.
That's not a war then.
So what if she died, like I said its war. I don't care.
In her eyes, I was merely something that must've reminded her of Ion. It must've been the hair, surely.
I was probably just a shield for her. Something that she needed to hide behind, be it Dist, Luke, anyone. She always assumed I'd protect her, like how I fixed her play things, tell Dist to fuck off, pretty much everything. Like that one time when her liger wandered out of the forest and got attacked by hunters who wanted its skin. I was the one who had to fight them and bring that damned animal back into the forest. On my back, no less.
That memories were mostly irritating. I always poked myself with those needles; it went through my glove… every single damn time.
That's why I shouldn't care about her death.
Everything she did irritated me.
Everything about her drove me mad.
Everything I did for her never gave me anything in return.
Her disgustingly bright pink hair, pink eyes forever doomed to never see the light of this world, that high-pitched squeaky voice, and that loli-goth style of hers… it was sickening.
It was all so revolting.
So… why am I crying…?
Authoress Notes I am a nerd. 'Nuff said.