Bois de Merveilles - by Harukami Oddness and Akio warning. Again, named after a Malice Mizer song. If you can call it a song. In this garden called Ohtori Gakuen, nobody grows up. A creature stood on an arena and stared up at the castle floating over his head. He shall be called the Shadow-Man, despite the fact he wasn't really a man. Oh, yes, he was definately male and had proved this to himself and others numerous times, but he lacked that quality that defined the other side of the word. He had lost it a long time ago, or perhaps had never had it. He held a rose. He's always brought a rose at times like these, though whether in mockery or in tribute, he was never exactly sure. He stared up and smiled, starting to ascend. There were times to remember, times to demand. This was both. As his ascension started, so did the visions. It started with the first, a naked beautiful woman not unlike himself, hands tied above head, dark violet hair cascading over shoulders bowed in defeat. Swords, too many to number although he knew the number by heart, pierced every part of her body. She was followed by an angry young man, face twisted in denial and anger, all muscles tensed as if to strike at somebody. He was also naked. They would all be naked. A sword pierced his gut. After him, a youth barely into the teens, grief and ruined hope written all over him, blue hair falling into shut eyes. A sword marred the fall of the hair, piercing his forehead. Another. A beautiful woman of angelic quality, body calm, unwracked by the pain she surely must be feeling as a sword transfixed her breast. And another. A tall, young man, eyes meeting the Shadow-Man's as he passed, knowing smirk on his face. A sword pierced his groin, but he appeared not to notice that or his bindings. Yet another. A younger girl, all large eyes and blonde hair and jealous curves, a sword in her throat. She was mouthing three syllables over and over again, but no words emerged, which was fine, because nobody would listen. Another, and another, and another, countless people all impaled on his pathway. Finally, a last one. Naked, like the others, but lacking nipples or other external signs of gender other than her curves. Beautiful pale pink hair falling about a face closed in the sleep of innocent. Pure. Sexless. A sword hovered in front of her uteris, ready to strike. None of them meant anything to him. They were memories. Dolls. He arrived at his destination. There were times to remember, times to demand. Another creature sat, on the opposite side of a wall and a gate that was no wall or gate whatsoever, perched on a clear ball the Shadow-Man couldn't see into. He could have been the Shadow-Man's twin for appearance, though somewhat slenderer and less clearly sexed, with cut yet wild hair, with a line of pain and defeat marring bent body. He was no more a man than the Shadow-Man. He shall be called the Sunlit-Man. The Shadow-Man placed his hands against the barrier that was no barrier at all. "Let me in." The Sunlit-Man made no move. "You'll lose her, you know. And so will I. Do you hold the same hope for her that I do?" The Sunlit-Man made no move. "Let me in." Nothing. The Shadow-Man held out the hand that held the rose. "See? She's perfect. She needs to be marred. There is no perfection in this world. There is only pain. Let me in. Let me become you. Let yourself become me." Nothing. "Don't look at me in that manner," the Shadow-Man said harshly. The Sunlit-Man hadn't turned his head towards him at all. "It's what I AM. We can't help our nature. What does it think when she does shine?" No movement. "The lion told the man that. 'You acted in your nature. I will act in mine.' Let me in." No movement. "Let me IN!" Slowly, the Sunlit-Man turned his head, straightening slowly. His eyes had been closed but slowly opened. That was where the main difference between the two was; not in the line of the body or the length of the hair. The Sunlit-Man's eyes were pure, unsullied, though not niave, not touching anything it didn't have to. It hurt to look on. Full dark lips moved, outlining words. He could not speak. The Shadow-Man had taken that from him a long time ago. He could not speak, but the Shadow-Man could hear him in his own voice. /What's the magic word?/ He knew the answer and couldn't say it. One word. His own lips opened. "Revolution." The Sunlit-Man's eyes closed in sadness, head shaking slowly back and forth, and his body returned to its bent shape, head resting against the back of one wrist. The Shadow-Man said it one more time. "LET ME IN!" His voice broke at the last word. Nothing. In a fit of pique, he ripped the head of the rose off and let the petals drift down, turning suddenly on a heel and storming back, past the broken people. In this garden called Ohtori Gakuen, nobody grows up. *** Fin. Gah. I don't know what's wrong with me...