Fear is the lock to your heart. {/Masato}

[Remi Lucien Fitzroy]

It was as dark as night, though time was barely breaching into the late afternoon. Lightening flashed through the murky purple sky, illuminating the forest’s muddy floor and foliage as it reached out through the clouds. The wind howled threateningly and rustled the leaves of the trees that had been misshapen by days and days of weathering the storm’s temper. Animals scampered about and hid as best as they could. All seeking shelter. And beneath the trees, beneath the angry clouds that were heavy with the sky’s tears and amidst the furious wind, was Remi Fitzroy. His pale skin was numb with the piercingly cold of raindrops and his deep brunette tresses were soaked, sticking to his forehead and flushed cheeks as the rain poured down relentlessly.

Thunder crashed, but Remi couldn’t hear it. Louder than the symphony of the storm, louder than the rain pitter-pattering into the ground and louder than the screeching of the wind, was the faltering, desperate thudding of his own heartbeat. And not only could he hear it, he could feel it. It slammed against his eardrums painfully and rattled in his thin wrists, just beneath his joints. It was an unsettling sensation, though Remi had grown accustomed to it long ago. After he’d run from his home, the home of his mother and father and everything he had ever known. So it was nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the pain. The god-forsaken pain.

Lips trembling as his own tears tainted the drops from the rain, Remi took step after trudging step forward, slowly making his way through the trees. He’d come out here with the intentions of giving himself to the storm. He was alone now. Aoi was going back to China, and Choi would probably follow him. The last of his family, the last of his old life was going to be destroyed. There was nothing left for him. Sure, he had friends, like Sieffre. But they would soon move on, forget him easily. He would fade into the background - dissolve as though he’d never truly existed at all. As though he’d merely been a figment of the imaginations of those who had known him. He would be like a dream they’d had years ago, and only had the faintest recollection of what had occurred in it.

Each step was getting harder now. Every move of a muscle was as painful as peeling away layers of flesh. Remi could scarcely handle it. His body was too weak, and his mind was racing with his heart. The faces of his adoptive mother and father flashed before his mind’s eyes, and he staggered. Had he not looked to a tall, strong looking tree for support he surely would have fallen. "Mama… Papa…” He whimpered softly in French, his body resting against the trunk.“I… I‘m sorry… so sorry...” …” How could he have left them? It had been so long ago, and yet, it still hurt. It still hurt like hell to think of them, to remember them. To miss them. They had been wonderful parents to him and he had betrayed them. They thought he was dead, and they were probably miserable. For what? For a boy who was alive, not dead. For a boy, for a son, who had destroyed their trust and severed ties with them because he was a freak, a monster; an animal they could never and would never grow to love or understand.

Remi pushed away from the tree, his thin, shaking arms spread out beside him - his palms were facing the sky and were cupped, catching pools of rainwater. Rivers leaking through his fingers like watery ribbons. His head rolled back and his soaking locks fell away from his face. The pain in his icy blue-grey eyes was apparent as they gazed up at the sky, but they were also full of a light of determination. He knew what he had to do. A familiar warmth resonated in his muscles and sank in like melting butter to bread. For a moment, it just rested there, pleasantly heating up his freezing cold body. Remi knew better than to enjoy it, however, because he knew all too well what would follow it. His muscles ripped and shifted, and his bones broke of their own accord. That warmth had grown to a giant, smoldering fire, engulfing him completely as hands were replaced with paws and fur sprang from his flesh. His clothes were soon merely shredded remains beneath him, and a beast - a great, giant beast, stood in place of the boy who had been there only moments ago.


The great lion bounded through the forest with ease, for he had been crafted to withstand such elements. Large pads and thick claws caught the ground and pushed him forward. Kept him from slipping. And his tawny coat, though soaked, managed to keep some heat close to his body. Had his mane been fuller, perhaps he would have been warmer. But Remi didn’t mind, he didn’t care. Even if he had still been freezing his ass off, all he could think of was his mother… and his father… And how he had left them, stupidly, and he would never see them again. He ran on, blindly, moving smoothly through the trees. Perhaps he had been overconfident in his abilities, however, because in this fit of emotion and despair, his paw snagged on a root that peeked free of the earth, and sent him barreling head over tasseled-tail until he came to a crashing stop - his side colliding painfully with the weakened trunk of an old tree. Luckily, the tree wasn‘t harmed (else it might have taken a fall onto Remi). But Remi, writhing in pain and fur covered in mud, wasn’t so fortunate. His side ached, and his heart felt as though it had been ripped from his furry chest. He was miserable, cold, wet and alone. All alone. A low, heart-wrenching growl rolled free of his throat as he lay there. Wishing that the storm would just take him. Take him away from this world for good.


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tags: Kumababy~
word count: 1034
note: >>;; Cheer up emo kid.

[Masato Jin Pfeiffer]

- - - - - - - - - -

What a complex emotion fear was. How much of a menace it could be, invisible to the eye, yet sharply felt in the heart. Fear was manipulative, like a puppeteer tugging at the strings of its victims, bending their wills to the point of breakage. Fear was the father of despair, the brother of procrastination, the enemy of progress, and the tool of tyranny. Fear was also a master of disguise, masquerading as caution, skepticism, and concern, alluding its host – the human mind – into the dangerous depths of its own paradox. Fear was... the obstacle of achievement, and if one ever succumbed to fear, they were known to do the things they had never once thought of doing.

And that was where Masato was. Right at that point.

He didn't care if what he was doing was reckless. He did not even give the slightest damn if he was risking his own health – his own life, possibly – running out into the peak of that violent storm. He couldn't feel the wind battering his body or the drops of rain pierce and jab at his tender flesh. He couldn't smell the dense and saturated soil underneath his feet, hear the thunder roar all around him, or see lightning hiss and crackle above his head. All he could taste on his pallet, all that could flow through his blood, all he could know and recognize at that moment… was fear.

It was a certain kind of fear that started with just a message on a laptop screen. A simple one-liner, nonetheless, but it was one that immediately triggered anxiety. It made him feel sick, oh so very sick. He could feel that certain terror overtake him, dominate his every movement, his every sense. It clutched around his throat like two large, bony hands, strangling him recklessly with a grip as tight as a vice. It welled up in his insides, gnawing at the lining of his stomach like some feral, out-of-control animal that had been starved for days. It felt as if he was being tortured for hours even though it had only been mere minutes.
That was the fear that had kicked into override: the fear of another one's life.
The life of a student.
A student he had barely even known.

"Remi!" Masato did not even take the time to change out of his usual work attire before he found himself storming clean out of his door, his legs carrying him far away from the staff dormitories and into the cacophonous turmoil outside. His eyes, usually cold and dark like two black stones, were alive like the sparks of lightning that crawled in the sky above him, scraping around his surroundings restlessly to search for the answer to one question: 'Where could he be?'
He had searched high and low within the interior of the campus boundaries: outside of the dorms and around the gym, the library, the lawns, and the greenhouse… but he just couldn't find him. He couldn't find Remi.

He then had the thought that... maybe the male was no longer on the campus itself. Maybe he wandered aimlessly into dangerous territories, where no other student should be. Where not even the most gifted of sophomores would dare to tread into and think that they would survive.

And with that, Masato took off, deep into the tree-filled forest. The closest thing there was.

He bounded through the forest on his own two feet, not even paying attention to the mud and particles of dead leaves that clung to his once clean and neatly-polished shoes. He didn't even think of shifting into the quick and nimble beast inside him that yearned to escape, because he was afraid that he wouldn't have enough time. He was afraid… afraid that he wouldn't make it in time. That Remi had already gotten seriously injured… or even killed. Then, 'what ifs' began to flood into Masato's overactive mind: What if lightning had struck him and his heart had instantly shut down? What if lightning struck a tree and it caught on fire? What if a tree fell on top of him and crushed him underneath its heavy weight? What he had fallen and hit his head? What if? What if? What if--

And then, Masato stopped dead in his tracks, his chest rising and falling quickly as he took a moment to catch his breath. No… there was no way those things could have happened that quickly, and especially not to Remi. He knew just from the few times talking to him online that the boy was smart… perhaps too smart for his own good to render him defenseless. Besides, he was pretty sure that if the male was caught in a perilous situation, he would be able to shift in time… right? Shaking his head slowly to himself, his exhausted gaze drifted up to the murky purple sky that hung above him, cool drops of rain pelting his face and matting his unevenly trimmed bangs to his forehead as they slipped and slid their way through the canopy of thick leaves. Wherever he was… Masato had hoped that he could find him soon while he was alive and kicking… and not the reciprocal. He sighed heavily and his eyes slipped closed, his mind whirring like a runaway wheel as each and every thought propelled it further and further into the corners of his mind.

… Until he heard it.

The withering tree not too far away gave a weak, haughty shout as something collided with its base. Something amorphous in appearance where Masato stood… but notably heavy. He blinked slowly, curiously, squinting through the veil of rain and darkness that shrouded his surroundings before he crouched towards the misshapen silhouette that laid close to the ground. He had the faintest clue of what it was; it could have been anything, like a bushel or a young tree that could have been uprooted. He had the slightest idea what he was dealing with… until he heard a low, sorrowful growl.

Then, he saw it. Right there, lying in the mud and shrubbery, was a great African lion, so young, yet already surpassing Masato in size and weight – even if he had prowled in the pelt of a coyote. And what an immense amount of pain it seemed to be in; Masato could see the agony creased within every wrinkle of its face. Was it injured? … Was it suffering?
"… Remi…?" he whispered softly, but caught himself immediately and bit his tongue harshly. Wait, how could he tell if the creature was really Remi or not? It could have been any other student, and hell, it may have not been a student at all.

… Then again, how often was it to see an African lion running around in a forest like this?

Swallowing the stone that began to form in his throat, Masato drew in a deep breath before he crouched down beside the fallen animal, resting his hand upon its upper back. Its light-colored fur, although laced with musky dirt, was still warm beneath his fingertips, and he could feel the small rises of its vertebrae creak slowly as they protruded underneath thick skin. Then, with an inaudible release of his breath, he decided to put his theory to the test and speak, his heavy German accent woven within his words like a needle and thread through fabric. "... If you can hear me, make another sound."

- - - - - - - - - -

"Talking!"
'Other person!'
'Thinking!'


((TAG)) Binky boy Remi Lucien Fitzroy~
((WORD COUNT)) 1,243
((LYRICS)) "Hate Me" by Blue October.
((NOTES)) It's kinda' BS-ish at the end, but ahhhhh Masatooooo ;o;
((CREDITS)) Remi! ♥