:: Attempt 19 | Madness ::

"All of my life I built this armor,
In every disguise I ever wore;
Ashes and dust, I made an island.
Facing the end, I said, "What for?"

"Sometimes it's a battle, at times it's a war;
But you're never defenseless.
Sometimes we all lose strength,
Please don't lose your faith."
- "Madness" by Sleeping with Sirens

x + x

It is still early in the morning; even before the crack of dawn, most may say, and no one who is, quite frankly, sane will deign to be up and about at such an ungodly hour.

Anyone who has no business at such a time, in any case.

I look down at the faint traces of lead upon my fingertips, brushing my fingers upon the already dirtied cloth of my shirt. The half-finished sketch lies beyond my line of sight, stuffed into my sketchpad and hopefully out of prying eyes.

Sleep has, predictably, eluded me once again, leaving me to sit by my desk, twirling my mechanical pencil around my fingers as I wait for the rest of the household to awaken. A dry smile curls my lips. That, unfortunately so, will not be for three or so hours at the very least, as it is still approximately two o'clock in the morning.

Night has yet to relinquish its dark hold upon the skies; the faintest glimmer of the stars barely visible through the roiling clouds. A sigh passes forth from between my lips as I stand, pushing back my chair.

Perhaps I should—

An almost inaudible knock upon the door greets my innermost thoughts, cutting it off rather abruptly. I turn to the doorway, warily approaching the mahogany door.

Who's even up at this hour aside from me?

"Stop hesitating, Aoi, I know you're awake." 'Miles's voice says half-impatiently as I slowly pull the door open, revealing the said male standing upon my doorstep.

He blinks, running his fingers through his hair, still tangled and knotted from his sleep—or possible lack thereof. I smile in amusement, taking in his rather half-asleep, rumpled form.

It is rather cute, I think in amusement, before I force it away, stuffing it somewhere in the very back of my mind.

"Why aren't you asleep, Basil?" I question, flicking the lights on as I pass by him, vaguely gesturing for the boy to come inside. He does as I silently ask, taking a seat at the edge of my bed.

"I should ask ya' that, Aoi," he replies, still very much combing through his hair. I stifle a laugh at his bedhead, perching upon my swivel chair mere meters away from where he sits. He pauses for a moment, lowering his hand to his lap.

When he speaks, he looks straight at me, evergreen eyes boring into mine.

"Still haven't cured your insomnia?"

I stiffen, looking away from him. "That's none of your business." I say sharply, crossing my arms under my chest, ignoring the burn threatening to lay claim upon my cheeks as I realize that I am wearing only my sleepwear in front of this boy.

The kind which I seldom even wears due to its unnecessary embellishments, thank you. To be exact: a short-sleeved, white and blue checkered top, paired with shorts of the same color scheme, barely reaching a couple of inches above my knees. Mortification again colors my skin an unsightly hue, and I turn away, crossing my legs at the ankles.

He shakes his head, before stretching his arms out. "Still, ya' hafta need ta' sleep, Aoi. You aren't a robot to just function with as little energy as possible."

"And since when were you this concerned about my sleeping habits?" I shoot back, covering up my embarrassment with an infuriated glare. Basil simply stares back rather calmly, his chin resting upon his palms.

"Since I found out about your suicidal tendencies."

Something snaps within me, and I stand, abruptly crossing over to him. A snarl befitting of my accursed epithet tugs at my lips as I grab the collar of his shirt, forcing him to face me.

"You don't know shit about me, 'Miles'," I say through gritted teeth—my pain, my bitterness coalescing into one dangerous mix. "Stop talking like you know everything."

He looks at me, not at all backing down as  his hands move to unclench my trembling fingers from his clothing. "That might be true." He agrees slowly, a halfhearted grin pulling at the corners of his lips.

"But I'm not leaving until ya' get some proper sleep for once, Aoi. 'Specially since that day's comin' closer."

An incredulous laugh spills from between my lips, and I let go, collapsing beside him upon my bed. I shake my head as he looks at me in confusion, laughter still escaping me in uncontrollable peals.

"Aoi..?"

"You really are an idiot." I say, a bittersweet smile tugging at my lips. He looks at me questioningly as I lie down, curling up on the right side of my bed.

After a while, he shifts his seating, his back against the headboard. I look up at him, gazing at that same smile upon his lips which seldom seems to fade.

"Yeah, I am one."

And as I close my eyes, I silently wish that he won't change, that at least, there will still  be a constant in my life.

x + x

The dreams have plagued her again, to the point that even closing her eyes bring about vivid images of bloodied corpses, of gruesome smiles etched upon lips painted an evident blue hue from the frigid kiss of death.

The darkness seems to swallow her whole the longer she lies there, all alone in the middle of this abominably miserable wait. She can feel its cold embrace even beneath her bed sheets; can smell the metallic scent of blood permeating the air as she closes her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek. She is trembling like a leaf, much to her dismay; she is curling in on herself, trying to make herself as small a target as she can possibly be.

In the dim light of the room, she looks like a terrified child.

She hates it; absolutely loathes her weakness, the pathetic whimpers leaving her lips whenever she is left alone in the dark to await the dawn of that day. That day she lost everything; her anchor to her fragile reality, her safe place amidst the turbulent waters which attempt to drag her under.

It has already been two years.

But it hasn't changed the amount of loneliness she feels within.

Her eyes flicker shut as she grasps at her wrist, feeling the amount of blood soaking through the bandages she had clumsily wrapped around her most recent cuts. They are slightly deeper than usual, as she always does during this time. Hesitantly, she slowly sits up, staring at the neon green display of the digital clock upon her desk.

11:59 PM, May 19th

Alarm surges through her slumped over form as footsteps resound outside her door, pausing just before the doorway. Aoi tenses, stubbornly hiding her injured wrist beneath the bed sheets. Her eyes narrow in suspicion as a figure nudges open her door—a familiar silhouette.

12:00 AM, May 20th

"I sorta had the feeling that you're still awake," 'Miles' whispers as he enters, carefully making his way towards where an incensed Aoi sits curled up upon her bed. She stiffens as he draws near, taking a seat at the edge of her bed.

"What's wrong?" He reaches out, almost touching her shoulder, yet he halts his movements, his hand hovering in midair. "Ya' can tell me anything."

"Anything?" A hoarse, yet derisive laugh escapes her lips as tears stream down her face. Furiously, she wipes them away, not letting him see her moment of weakness. "As though I'll believe that so easily, Eren."

He remains silent, observing her with what looks like grim realization. Without another word, he moves even closer to the petite redhead, wrapping his arms around her in a gentle embrace.

Warmth floods her frostbitten limbs at the close contact, and Aoi finds herself yielding to his silent messages: Trust me. I'm still here. I won't leave you.

She buries her face in the crook of his neck, a choked sob escaping her parted lips as she cries.

"You aren't alone, Aoi," He whispers, so softly she almost doesn't hear it. "I'm here. Always have, always will." He runs a hand through her hair, pulling her closer as she trembles, her narrow shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs.

"I'm never gonna leave you."

x + x

It's unusual that Aoi still isn't downstairs by the time five o'clock rolls around.

Tsubaki glances at the stairs, smoothing out her uniform as she does so. Their guest—no, Aoi's parabatai, Eren L. Basil, still hasn't shown up as well. She frowns, looking down at an inquisitive Momotaro, who paws at her school shoes.

"Do you think they're still asleep, Momo?" She questions, briefly giving the shiba inu a gentle scratch behind his ears, earning an enthusiastic tail-wagging session from the pup. The dark-haired Fujimoto sighs, beginning to ascend the stairs quickly.

Her wristwatch shows that it's still 5:15 in the morning, still plenty of time before they have to go to Kunugigaoka, but Tsubaki's sure that Aoi won't want to take any chances of being swept up in the rush hour. That, and it is beyond the line of the unusual that she had overslept—or so the brunette is thinking as of this moment.

She halts before the door, thinking twice about knocking, before relenting with a sequence of gentle taps upon the dark mahogany wood.

"Aoi?" Tsubaki calls, tapping twice more. "Are you already awake?"

She waits, rocking back onto her heels, before taking her chances and grasping the doorknob, experimentally giving it a turn. The door swings gently open, noiseless aside from a slight, rusted-hinges-sounding whine.

Tsubaki steps inside, easing the door gently back into place, and turns on the lights. She freezes, an amused smile taking hold of her lips as she took in the sight. Slowly, carefully, she pulls out her phone from her skirt pocket, swiftly snapping several pictures of the scene before her.

Basil lies upon his back, his right hand clasped in between the girl's own two hands. Aoi is sleeping—so far, so good—curled up on her side, her head pillowed upon the brown-haired male's arm, his left hand cradling the back of the red-haired girl's head.

As much as Tsubaki doesn't want to disturb the 'adorable'—as she dubs the scenario inside her mind—sight, she places a hand upon her hip as soon as she tucks her phone back into its place, her other arm swiftly drawing back the covers from the sleeping duo. This results in the two to surface from their overly prolonged sleep, bleary eyes and tangled hair apparent.

Aoi is the first one to sit up, somehow stifling a cute yawn as she rubs at her tired blue eyes. Basil rests his head against her shoulder, his green eyes falling shut almost immediately.

Tsubaki shakes her head in amusement, saying almost casually, "It's already five-twenty-one, Aoi, Eren-san. I'm pretty sure you don't want to be late." With that, she turns on her heel, but not before smirking at the still very much sleepy duo.

"Oh, and please tell me the next time the two of you oversleep in the same bed."

The door shuts behind her, leaving a dazed Aoi to process what the pseudo-brunette had said.

Crimson colors her cheeks, an awareness in her azure eyes as she glances at the boy beside her, who appears to be having pleasant dreams as he leans against her shoulder.

"Oh for fuck's sake." She snaps, flicking his forehead. He stirs, clutching at his maltreated forehead as he gazes at the redhead with unfocused eyes.

"Why were you sleeping beside me?"

A slow, lazy—yet still somehow attractive—grin takes hold of his lips as he cocks his head to the side, prompting the already heavy flush to her cheeks to become even darker.

"Last I checked, ya' were the one who was holding my hand while we slept." He grins even wider, the teasing tone to his voice never letting up even as she tosses a pillow at the tall male. He blocks it with ease, his amusement only kicking up a notch as he does so.

"You perverted bastard." She hisses as she stands up, grabbing his collar once again. He simply cranes his neck back to look at her, still grinning at the infuriated redhead. "Get the hell out of my room."

Aoi tugs at his shirt, dragging the male up to his feet and towards the doorway as she quickly opens the door, pushing him out. He simply smiles, catching her hand before she can take it back, and brushes his lips upon her knuckles.

"I hope ya' slept well, Aoi." He smiles, before turning away and walking towards the room to her right, which is now his bedroom.

Aoi looks down at her hand, that same flush to her cheeks only intensifying as she recalls the depth of what just conspired.

...That boy will seriously be the death of me.

x + x

It isn't even the start of first period, and he already wants to go back to the house he is temporarily living in together with the rest of the Sibyl mercenaries the Head had sent. One of whom is his own parabatai, Hanazono Aoi.

Fleetingly, Basil wonders which class she is located in. She hasn't even mentioned where exactly the target is, opting to let him figure it out all by his lonesome. All he knows is the rather vague hint of three words: Class 3-E. Still, it is quite devious of her, to be brutally honest.

Then again, I might've influenced her a little too much..

He pauses before the doorway, releasing a pent-up sigh. The whispers are already becoming too much, grating on his otherwise lengthy patience.

Every once in a while, a random girl will approach him, asking if he is lost, in need of directions to his class, et cetera. He simply answers with a forced, polite smile, declining their multitude of unneeded offers, forging ahead despite his innermost doubts.

He had lost sight of Aoi and her usual companion, Tsubaki, just before they had stepped inside the main gates of Kunugigaoka. Then he had been swept along with the crowd, herded into the main building, and barely managed to meet the Board Chairman before he is sent on his way to Class 3-A.

So, if added altogether, it is no surprise that this experience is already wearing him thin. (It is also costing him a lot, as he normally smiles in spite of the circumstances.)

With another heavy breath forcing its way up from his lungs and out into the open via his windpipe, Basil slides open the door, stepping inside Class 3-A with a little more than a polite smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Almost in subsequence, a cacophony of whispers erupts in the class, majorly from the female populace. Some appraise the tall male through the thick lenses of their glasses, as though thinking about the size of his intellect.

The most noticeable among the class is a strawberry-blond male, whose somehow strong posture emanates power much like the Chairman had done. Basil narrows his eyes slightly, yet still keeping his amiable smile in place.

"The name's Eren L. Basil," he introduces in fluent Japanese, "I transferred here from San Francisco, Cali, so I hope I don't have much of an accent." He laughs, an easy grin claiming his lips.

"Nice ta' meet ya'."

He shifts his bag higher up his shoulder, moving in between seats with relative ease until he reaches the seat behind the strawberry-blond guy from earlier. Placing his bag atop the desk, he takes a seat, resting his chin upon his palm as he scans the notes on the board, barely listening to whatever the homeroom teacher is discussing.

He can't care any less than he already does.

x + x

"What do you mean that's him?"

In all honesty, I had expected someone much, much older than myself—possibly eighteen or nineteen years of age at the most. But this boy... He can't be older than me, can he?

"Hey, I guess." Sheepishly, he scratches his cheek; emerald-green eyes staring right at me. I hesitate, eyeing the boy with a blank gaze. He will look away sooner or later—everyone does.

Contrary to my expectations, he doesn't.

My lips instinctively curl into an amiable smile. Even if he is like that, I can sense that he has something up his sleeve. He isn't just a boy trying to play pretend.

He is an assassin, like me.

And the thought brings me back to reality.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, 'Miles'." I say calmly, flatly. My eyes narrow, and I extend a hand for him to shake. It seems that it appears to be a custom here in the United States.

He blinks, a nervous grin upon his lips as he takes my hand in his, giving it a brief shake. "Nice ta' meet ya, 'Venatrix'."

x + x

Contrary to his expectations, the day went by relatively fast.

As the electric bell signifies the end of the day, Basil takes out his phone, typing in a brief, bare-bones text to a certain MIA redhead. (At least, he thinks that she is missing in action since that morning, whereas she has been attending her class upon the mountain together with her peers.)

He sighs, taking his bag and making his way out of the classroom with his mortal body still very much intact despite all the disturbing stares he has been getting all day long from the female population of the school. His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he pulls it out to see a reply.

'Wait about fifteen minutes at the foot of the mountain. You'll see Tsubaki there.

P. S. Don't text me while you're still in class, idiot.'

Received from 'Aoi' at 15:21.

An amused smile curls his lips. She's still flustered. He walks down the halls, bypassing any and all of the rushing students clamoring to get home. Some are still lingering in the halls, exchanging notes or possible gossip, which he ignores.

The 'mountain' stands meters away beside the building, and he cranes his neck up, whistling a low tune as he gazes at its height. Basil scans the foot of the mount, spotting a familiar-looking strawberry-blond talking to the one and only red-haired girl he has been looking for.

He approaches at a leisurely pace, a dull sense of foreboding creeping up his spine. It is unusual, now that he notices it.

"—didn't I tell you to stop, Gakushu?" Aoi snaps, glaring at the taller male. Basil stiffens, breaking into a sprint. "Stop pretending like we'll still be fine, that I can handle all the goddamn lies—"

As he watches, the boy—Gakushu—takes hold of her hands, preventing her to move as he leans forward, forcefully pressing his lips to hers and effectively cutting her off.

Scarlet seems to tint the edges of his vision as he wrenches the guy's tight hold away from Aoi, who staggers backward at the force, looking up at the angered brunet, whose green eyes glint dangerously despite the evidently forced smile that he wears.

"Who are you?" Gakushu snarls, raising an eyebrow at the taller boy.

Without a word, a fist slams into the strawberry-blond male's jaw, sending him to the ground in one go.

"Basil..?" Aoi whispers his name softly as he helps her up, looking down at the reddened skin around her wrists. Anger churns inside him, and he forces himself to keep calm as he eyes the extent of the damage.

Just reddened skin—no chances of bruising. Any longer, any tighter of a grip and it might have bruised for real, but he'd arrived on time. He isn't too late—but why does he feel like he is?

A muffled groan escapes the boy upon the ground, to whom the brunet glares fiercely.

"I told ya', didn't I, bastard?" He says lowly, pulling the trembling redhead closer to his torso.

"I'm your worst nightmare."

- To be continued.

[Word Count: 3,441. Originally written June 10th, 2016. Edited April 5th, 2017. Picture in the multimedia is taken from the internet.]