Disclaimer I do not own DOGS. This story is REPOST and REUPDATED thanks to those who reviewed this story back then, I'd like to improve it but I think I just made it worst :/
I hated her, I despised her. And probably, always will. That's what I thought back then. It was hard to put it in words, but seeing her makes me sick. The way she glared at me, talked to me, following me behind my back pissed the hell out of me.
Whenever those dark, cold eyes of hers glared into mine, searching for a hint of expression, I feel like ripping her head off her perfect body. Her cold glare was enough for me to shoot her to wall of holes. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. Just because of her stupid pair of eyes. As if they made me gone through all the pain she'd collected for the past few years deep inside her heart. Her pain was sealed tightly, with no trace of opening.
Her katana she brought almost anywhere and everywhere, seemed to be her only companion, her only partner. I used to wonder if she ever talks craps into it. Her independent, quiet and fast-moving natures told me that she'd always fight alone, with no allies, no friends, just with this pair of katana. Even if it was worn out from cutting too much bodies and stained with too much blood, she refused to change.
She treasured it a lot, her hand gripping the bag strap of her katana tightly, until her hand turned pale from the lack of flowing blood. I never admit about this, but I was amazed to see her confident look when she fight along with her only ally. Her sharp eyes glaring at her opponent spoke her feelings in a way that was unable to put in words, as she gave them one last chance to speak of their last thoughts. Then, she would end their lives with just one, delicate move.
I hated the way she talks to me, 'cause her damned, cold words always stabbed me in the heart without fail, just like what I'd always did to her. But I didn't give a damn, I didn't care. As long as she speaks to me, it was more than anything.
I so fuckin' hate it more when she followed behind my back, and I fuckin' hate it even more when other guys started flirting with her. I wanted her to walk with me, beside me, so that those damn bastards would stop flirting with her. I wanted to tell the world, I wanted to tell them she's mine. Heine Rammsteiner's property. Hands off, filthy bastards.
Her body was slim, alright. Her short, dark, raven hair was not taken care of, but still it was fine, soft and neat in a messy way. Her skin, fair, soft, and almost transparent. She never dressed up, always sticking to her plain old outfit. Each and every bits of her reminded me of the person I wanted to forget the most – Lily. They share no trace of similarity, but whenever I look at her, I bloody saw it. I saw myself killing Lily. I couldn't bring myself to look her in the eye. I wanted to see her as Fuyumine Naoto, not Lily.
But, the real reason why I hated her the most was because I wanted her. I wanted to 'officially' own her. I wanted her to be mine, only mine. Not other guys. I'm just so damn jealous of everything. I knew I couldn't own her, because I am a monster, a killling machine, a bloody guy.
She is fragile. I don't wan to break her. What if, one bloody day, I lost control of myself and smash her into pieces? For sure, she would fuckin' hate me...
But that was back then. Now, everything is different.
I don't have to worry about these old, silly thoughts. Because now, she's mine. For ever.
I open my eyes, I see her soft, calm sleeping figure facing me, her warm breath touches the skin of my chest.
This woman, changed the hell out of me. I hate to admit, but I love her, a lot.
Once in a few days, she would come over to my place during evening, and stay till late dawn. I don't really mind, of course, the longer the better, as long as I can be with her.
I promise to protect her if anything happens, until my last breath, until the very end of my life, 'cause I'm damn afraid to lose her. I want to treasure her, stay with her, every single moment. Even if it's just for a few seconds, minutes, hours, I'll keep on holding. I want her to look at me, closely, stare me in the eyes. The glaring routine still continues as usual, it's what brought us together after all. But I still hate those damned eyes.
I cuddle her tightly and pull her closer, as she wraps her hands around my waist and her head close to my heart.
Naoto, can you hear me? These are, my true words to Fuyumine Naoto.