Drip drop drip drip.
The rain splattered gently on the pavement streets of the bustling city. People walk up and down the drizzling streets with slick raincoats and some with umbrellas over their heads. Forgetful teenagers run to their destinations with book bags planted on the top of their heads—a fail attempt to stay dry. Children jump in puddles, splashing water around with their rain boots as the droplets continue to sprinkle from the sky like non-stop tears coming from the clouds. This rain was not unexpected. Earlier today on the news, the weather man himself said that there was to be seventy percent chance of rain. Even so, there is always that one person who walks out into the teary afternoon with no protection. This particular person, who dared to go against the weather, was usually aware of his surroundings and would have worn a coat at least, but with the mood he was recently in nothing mattered to him. One glance at his face, anyone could tell that he was way beyond unhappy. This young man was only wearing a thin plain white tee, a black unbuttoned vest, gray denim jeans, and a pair of black vans. He had green colored hair mixed with black and sharp brown eyes that seem to bore into the soul. Passersby would think that he had dyed his hair, but would be wrong because it's all natural. They wouldn't give it any second thought because they would cower away with his piercing malice glare.
As he walked through the murky afternoon, his blood boiled and bubbled, simmering throughout his whole body, burning his body to the touch. He mumbled under his breath words such as "fuck" or "stupid humans" repeatedly. His hands were inside his pockets and he scowled at the ground. Running out of insults to say, his blood pressure stopped rising and started to cease to a normal rate. His shoulders loosen, aligning with his collar bone, from its stiff form. His head positioned upwards towards the gray gloomy sky, he can feel every prickle of the rain drops that landed on his face. The frown reappeared on his face, not wanting to think about what had happened just moments ago.
(Author's note: None of the guys are transformed; it's just for description purposes.)
Laughter and music surrounded the Moon Shine bar. The girls in the audience were making a big commotion over the charming vampire, Nozomu, singing on stage capturing each one of those girls' hearts—as usual. Inside the kitchen, pots and pans are banging as the playful werewolf, Akira, cooks the meals for the customers. Every few minutes a bell can be heard signaling that the food was ready for delivery. The blond teenage girl, Mahiru, rushes around serving and taking orders from each table. Misoka the twenty-one year old fox demon and Mitsuru the Tengu were stuck with cleaning duties like cleaning unoccupied tables and washing dirty dishes. This day started out as any other day until two shady figures came into the bar.
They were both very tall and wearing leather jackets, but one had raven black hair tied up while the other man had what seemed to be white short hair. Mahiru, being the sweet girl she is, walks up to them and offers them a table to sit at and asks them for their order with a smile plastered on her face. "What would you like from the menu sirs?" The raven haired one was first to speak. "Hey Cutie, what can you offer me," he said with a wretched smirk. Totally oblivious to what he meant she repeated pointing towards the menu, "What would you like?" The white haired one spoke up, "I want a…" "I want your number," the raven haired jerk rudely interrupted. Her shoulders stiffened and she stammered back, "I don't even know you sir." He replied with a sly smile, "Baby, off course you know me my name is Ryo." While this was happening a certain green haired Tengu glared down the path like poison darts. Mahiru attempted one last time with an edge of annoyance in her voice, "Would you like anything?" This time she looked at the white haired man ignoring the persistent raven. "I would like a beef curry rice and a glass of coke," he added, "no ice please." Her shoulders sank down in relief that she got something done; now all that was left was this weird man named her head to the side, Mahiru breathed out a sigh of content when she saw Misoka walk towards her. I'm saved.
"Why are you taking a long time with the order," Misoka asked. Mahiru's shoulders sank once again this time racked with guilt. "I'm sorry, but this man won't tell me his order," she lightly pleaded. "Then I'll take over," he added with a small smile, "you can finish washing the dishes." She nodded and walked over to the kitchen with a slight skip in her step finally free from that awkward situation. Mahiru did not know this, but it was far from over as Ryo gritted his teeth and stared at her petit back giving her ice shills down her spine.
Thirty minutes later flew by and almost more than half the people had gone home. The raven haired man was all alone sitting at the bar stool as his white haired friend retreated ten minutes ago. Mahiru being switched into clean up duty walked out of the kitchen and towards the tables that haven't been evacuated of plates yet. She catches the man from earlier out of the corner of her eye. Who was he again? Hmmmmmm, Riko? No ummmm Rino? She shakes her head as to forget about it. It's not important. As she walks past him, a smile creeps up on his face; unknown to her he had conducted a plan of revenge for rejecting him.
Mahiru piles plate after plate as she maneuvers from one table to another, counting twelve plates in all. Knowing she couldn't hold anymore she walked back to the direction where the kitchen door was. She never makes it though because as she passes by the bar stools she trips over something and the plates fly out of her hands.
Mahiru lands on her palms and knees and the plates shatter on the ground into unfixable shards. "Watch where you're going Cutie," Ryo smirks. Misoka and Akira run out of the kitchen hearing the noise and Nozomu jumps off the two feet stage to Mahiru's aid. Nozomu was the first one to concern himself, "Are you okay Prin—Mahiru?" "Yeah I'm okay," she smiled and added, "I just tripped over my own two feet." She half – heartedly laughed, "Ha clumsy me." They all looked at her with worried faces except Ryo who looked triumphant, which was starting to piss off a certain Tengu.
Misoka was the first one to realize it. "Princess you're bleeding," he replied worriedly. In the mention of blood Mitsuru snapped, seeing the whole thing unravel in front of him, he stood up from his spot on the table. In one second flat he had his hand gripped around Ryo's shirt and had him hovering a few inches off the ground. Nozomu sprang up from his position next to Mahiru and went to pull him off the man, but a little too late. Mitsuru punched Ryo right in between his jaw and cheek. Nozomu successfully pulled him off before any more damage could be done. "WHAT THE HELL MAN!" Mitsuru glared at the guy who dared to say that even though he knew why he deserved it. Akira caught a glimpse of the situation and say that the guy with the black hair was about to attack, so he dropped his broom and dust pan and quickly took action. Now it looked like a game of tug-a-war; Akira had Ryo in a lock and same goes for Nozomu and Mitsuru; the vampire and the werewolf holding them at bay. Ryo's face was tomato red, not only from the punch but also because he was burning with fury. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR!?" Mitsuru struggled to escape Nozomu's grasp, but knowing it was futile replied back, "YOU KNOW WHY," he continued, "YOU TRIPPED HER!" Nozomu, Akira, and Misoka stiffened at his remark. "Ha you have no proof," he smirked. Misoka's grip tightened on Mahiru's hand, annoyed by his smirk, earning a painful yelp from her. "My apologies, Princess."
Hearing this, Ryo stated, "Like the Princess said, she tripped on her own two feet." Nozomu finally snapped and released Mitsuru and came face-to-face with Ryo. "Get out." Ryo, feeling the tension in the room, freed himself from Akira's arm lock and walked towards the exit, but not before he had the last say. "See ya later Cutie," he shouts out, waving as his back is turned. After he had gone, Miharu stood up. Her hands had been bandaged up by Misoka and now she had a say in the situation.
"Mitsuru, why did you hit him," she was furious, "he had done nothing wrong!?" Nozomu added in, "Mitsuru you are so stupid." Mitsuru's blood started to boil, "I'M STUPID!?" Akira butted in, "You guys calm down." Mitsuru retorted back, "SHUT UP!" Akira's wolf ears popped up and drooped down. Misoka stared sternly at Mitsuru and Nozomu answered, "Yes you Mitsuru, you're stupid." Mitsuru turned to look at Mahiru just to see a big frown on her face. Lowering down his voice Mitsuru replied, "How am I the stupid one when this stupid human thinks that guy did nothing?!" Before anyone could say anything, Mitsuru threw his apron on the nearest chair and marched out of the bar and into the rain. Mahiru, finally realizing his intentions, called out after him, "MITSURU!"
It still echoed through his head.
Why is that girl so clueless? He continued to walk down the sidewalk passing stores along the way. Why doesn't she believe me or better yet… why do I care what happens to her? At that moment, the image replayed in his mind when the girl walked with twelve plates in hand near the jerk who stuck out his leg in front of her making her trip. Remembering that brought a scowl on his face. Asshole. He then remembered the blood that trickled down her hand from the shards of plates. His blood boiled once more at that image and his hands were clinched into fists.
The rain had begun to pour down and people ran to shelter, but not Mitsuru. He stopped in place and stared at the ground with malice eyes. AGHHH! Why do I care, she is nothing to me. I hate humans. She is just one of them with her eyes like the ocean, her hair that glistens in the sun and her smile that is…WHAT AM I THINKING!? He shakes his head, along with his thoughts, and realizes that he had been standing in one place for about five minutes. The rain pounded at him like a drumstick would to a drum. "Stupid rain," he grudgingly cursed. Right then, out of the corner of his left eye, he caught a blur of bright pink. The only color that illuminated in the gloomy gray streets. It turned out to be a girl around three or four-years-old. She had chestnut brown hair that fell to mid back and a bubblegum pink dress that reached her knees. Mitsuru was taken aback with the little girl's appearance. Why is she wearing a dress? Isn't she cold? He watched as the little girl followed something on the ground. It was furry and seemed to run in four legs; he then realized that it was a cat from its long curled tail—more like a kitten from its size. The kitten ran into the street on a green light, but it knew no better. Mitsuru knew where this was heading, but his eyes rocketed open when he saw the little girl run after it. He looked around the girl's surroundings and noticed that nobody took any advantage of the situation. It's like she doesn't exist. He hears a car behind him and turns to find a truck at least one minute away.
Startled, Mitsuru turned once more and found the little girl on the ground in the middle of the crosswalk and the kitten already safe on the other side. The truck was coming closer and showed no signs of stopping. "Damn it," he cursed under his breath.
The little girl stood up and looked up to see a car driving at a rapid speed towards her. She froze in place, all of her muscles stiff from fear, and the pupils in her eyes became invisible and her eyes wider. Her tiny heartbeat stopped and her lungs no longer filled with opened her mouth ready to scream, but nothing still came out. The car was only a few feet away and she begins to close her eyes when she felt herself being lifted off the ground. She felt no bones cracking or muscle tearing; actually she felt no pain at all. She slowly opened her eyes and found herself being hugged in strong arms. She looked up to see a boy with green hair and brown eyes—her hero—and then she fainted.
I quickly took action, no longer waiting for a miracle to happen, and used my speed to get to the girl. The car was approaching fast and time seemed to slow down. Time had centered on this suspenseful breathtaking moment; on me, the car and the girl. I reached my arms out getting closer and closer. Gotcha. She was now in my arms and wasting no time, I jumped on the truck and onto the nearest building. Finally out of danger, I looked down at the girl and saw that she had no shoes. Her feet were bare with scratches. The little girl in my arms was small and light as a feather. Her eyes were squinted shut and her body curled up against mine. The girl's shoulders ceased from stiffness and slowly her eyes opened up. I realized that I never knew what color were her eyes until now. They were both two distinctively different colors. The left one was a sea green while her right one was a Caribbean blue. She looked up at me with those curious eyes and her tiny lips cracked into the tiniest of smiles. I felt the edge of my own lips tug at the skin around it; realizing what I was attempting to do, I mentally cursed myself.
Damn it I'm turning too soft.
I began to realize that her breathing had become little puffs struggling for air. It grew rapidly by the second until she couldn't keep her eyes open anymore. Cough Cough. I then reached my cold and clammy hand and felt her bald forehead, but then to have it ricochet back. Shit… She's burning up.
End of Chapter...
I do not own Crescent Moon or its characters. Hoped you enjoy it.