Shards and Pins [Charoa]

[Motoko Higurashi]

"Charoa-sama?"
The little girl in all blue padded, or rather nearly died tripping in her heels, over to the woman she'd come with. The ball had started its climax not long ago, and, trying to get a closer view, Motoko had offered to fetch the woman a drink. Now she'd had her fill of watching a girl-man and an albino duel it out, so she'd nabbed the drink she'd promised about a half an hour ago and returned to the beautiful Boogie in black over by the wall of glass. Her own blue dress fluttered out behind her as she walked.
"Charoa-sama...your drink."
She spoke in English, as her teacher had taught her to do. And little Moto was going to do exactly as her sensei said. Within reason.
Then the gun-shot went off.

Being sick was the one of the low-points in a kids life. You can't do what you want, you can't go out and see your friends, you're stuck in your home or worse your house, and sometimes you're even trapped in bed. In the normal world, being sick was the only thing Motoko could ever think of that would force her older sister, Aione, to tell her to stay in he hospital bed. However she realized you could also be bed-ridden by a wave of glass as it exploded from a well-placed wad of blasting powder in a crowded ball room.

Seriously, who knew?

Of course, when Ai-neechan had forced Motoko to the hospital, she'd been specifically told to stay in bed until her wounds were healed. Even Gloria, some nurse who Aione had to translate English to Japanese for, had told her to stay put. But her injuries weren't as bad as some peoples. Hell, she could have been one of the people on or under the balcony that got crushed or trampled. Just a few cuts, not even that big, and a deep one from where her leg had been exposed, but so what? She was fine. Really. Which was why the twelve-year-old was ignoring her orders and standing at the window, hair down, being bored.

But besides being injured in the riot, the ball had been a nice learning experience. With so many people around, she'd been playing a bit of a game with her mistress in translating what was around her. But sometimes, when the game got dry, Motoko had taken to watching Charoa. How she acted a crowd, the sort of poise she had, had she spoke...the blueberry of a girl was trying to figure her out. It was in her nature as a Higurashi to be curious. To wonder and to ponder and to piece things together...but Charoa was something far too out of reach for the human.

Just when Motoko thought she'd caught her, she would surprise her and the pin would go through her and she'd simply fly away.

Like a black-winged butterfly.

...I wonder where Charoa-sama is right now...

[Serenity/Charoa Avarie]

The ball had been mundane as it always was, nothing but a mass of pitiful idiots going about their weak-minded affairs. It was the very reason Charoa had never attended, only doing so this time because it was not wise to leave her little project unattended for long.
She had spent the time further counseling the child in her studies, making certain that she had enough grasp of the rudimentary skills to be able to move past them. The girl had offered to go and fetch a drink and so she had let her as a test, fully expecting a full report of her results when the girl returned.
But she was taking quite a while, and Charoa was getting impatient. Yet just when she was about to seek her out, she heard the tiny voice from behind her.
And then the explosion.

Sunlight, bright and unwelcome beamed directly down into her eyes, causing her to narrow them against the glare. She had no taste for being out and about at such hours, preferring to wait until at least twilight before she ventured out into the lands surrounding the Palace; something she did only rarely in any case. The outside world held no appeal for her, afterall the others made sure the Palace was always kept well stocked with both boogies and humans alike. As such there was no need for her to venture beyond its shadowed walls to feed, and thus no reason to leave at all.

This day however, she was required to not only venture forth, but to do so in broad daylight. To make matters worse she was going to a place she not only disliked, but despised. The mere thought of humans risking their lives to save those of other humans was something she had never understood. To her mind they had far more trouble keeping themselves alive yet alone others, and so she did not understand why they felt the need to. ....Then again, that did bring up a question that she had absolutely no answer to. At the ball, when the wall had exploded....she had thrown her body over the child's; shielding her from the worst of the glass while the majority of it had found itself lodged within her own body. She had put herself directly in harm in order to save a child, a human. Why?

The question continued to plague her as she strode down the path to the hospital. She was briefly distracted as her path was blocked by a pile of leaves; her nose wrinkling slightly as she carefully stepped around them. She had no desire to stride through the midst of such things, dirtying her shoes and stockings and giving who-knew-what the chance to cling to her. It was for this reason that, despite her distaste for the place, she was actually a bit glad when she reached the hospital and its paved floors.

Striding through the front door she didn't hesitate as she went directly to the desk; the woman seated behind it only staring in confusion as she grabbed the register and pulled it to her. A moment was all she required to find the girl's name and room; though it was difficult to make out either through the poorly scribed scrawl. She glared coldly at the woman for her inability to write correctly before she turned abruptly on her heel, meeting no challenge as she moved purposefully down the halls. A minute or two later and she stopped, opening the door silently and peering inside.

There, by the window, stood the child she sought. Black eyes carefully examined her small body, taking in the placement and size of the bandages. She saw nothing that should keep the girl bedridden, and as such made it a point to remove her from the care of these invalids before leaving. Even so, she hesitated. She was not certain why she did so, but she found that she was unsure of how to address the matter. The girl was still new to her and was insatiably curious; therefore she had to anticipate that there would be questions to be addressed before she removed her. But how to begin...? In the end she decided that she would have to take a page from her host's book in this matter. Her chill voice was hardly bubbly however as it broke through the silence of the room, clearly audible in spite of how low it was. "You are well?"

[Motoko Higurashi]

Much as she had the first time she'd heard that cold voice, Motoko nearly jumped out of her skin. Charoa seemed to be making a habit of scaring the girl senseless every time they saw each other...even when Moto had been waiting for her at the ball the Boogie had caught her off-guard. Maybe she was just that easy to scare. Or maybe it had been more awe than surprise that evening. Charoa had looked very, very beautiful in her gown and mask, and even the little dagger had caused Motoko to smile a little. Even if she was only a possession, or an experiment, the human girl found she was starting to like Charoa.

Much better than some Boogies she'd seen, anyway.

Turning her big blue eyes to look at her mistress, said human nodded once at the question poised to her. "I...I am fine, Charoa-sama," her English still needed a little work, but weeks of teaching had started to build her confidence up little by little, "What about you, m...mistress? You were hurt much w-worse than me." Moto moved back a few steps from the window, now giving the Boogie woman the view of the bandage on her leg. It wasn't much: nothing less than wrap on nothing more than a scrape, but Ai had wanted to make sure it didn't get infected.

Still, Motoko was more worried about any injuries that her master had gotten. She had, after all, taken most of the blow, whether from a poor-timed accident or on purpose to protect the little girl was still a mystery. Moto had an easier time assuming it had been just a wrong step that got Charoa between the exploding glass and herself. She just couldn't fit Char into the mold of a protector. That much she knew for sure.

Before she could really stop herself, a little smile showed on the twelve-year-olds pale face. "I am glad you've come to see me. I was thinking...about you."

[Serenity/Charoa Avarie]

It pleased her, as much as anything could at least, to know that she could inspire fear in the girl without even the slightest effort. She had always prided herself on the fact that despite her host’s disgustingly innocent appearance, she could still instill fear in even the most stolid hearts with the merest glance. Naturally this meant that there were times when her intention had not specifically been to do so, but she never minded. It was always so enjoyable to drink up the fear like it was a fine wine.

Unconsciously, Charoa found herself going over each phrase the girl spoke, each inflection of her voice. The girl was coming along well, it had been only a short while ago that she couldn't speak even a single letter of the common tongue. She was a fast learner and soon it would be impossible to tell that she hadn’t been born speaking it. But that wasn’t enough. Charoa was her teacher and as such perfection was a requirement. Normally she wouldn’t have believed it possible for a mere human to achieve such a thing; but then normally she wouldn’t have bothered with them in the first place. The girl had the potential and ability to be far more than any of the others could have ever dreamed of being, and Charoa intended to make it so.

Once her analysis of how the girl spoke was complete, Charoa moved on to what it was the girl had actually said. A nod was her only reply to the girl’s acknowledgement of her condition, needing to say nothing as she had surmised as much herself. However she paused when her own condition was inquired of, the question reminding her of her own questions that had yet to be answered. The look on her face at that moment was curious; not cold and yet not warm, not a frown and yet not a smile. Her eyes were not nearly so dark as normal and yet were far from being bright, a curious sort of twilight that seemed reluctant to be penetrated by the sun.

For several moments she was silent, mind once again wrestling with the questions that had no answer so far as she could find. When she spoke in the end her voice was abnormal as well; slow and soft, lacking the icy bite it normally held at all times. “I am quite well…” She was, though it had been uncertain at a point. Though not life threatening, the wounds she had received from the razor shards of glass rocketing out from the exploding wall had been severe. Numerous cuts had covered her body, some of them quite deep, and some of the glass had gone so far as to lodge just beneath her skin.

She had taken the effort needed to return to her quarters and strip the shredded and bloody clothes from her body before she relinquished her control, retreating into the back corners of her host’s mind in order to escape the almost forgotten sensation of pain. From there the girl’s little manslave had taken over, cleaning and binding the wounds and fretting over the pathetic creature like she was a sick infant. The display had been altogether disgusting, but the waves of pain and despair rolling through the girl’s mind had been sweet enough to make up for it.

In that moment everything about the girl, her voice, her face, her words, was immediately disarming. Perhaps had Charoa not been quite so introspective and bothered by her own musings, she would have been able to shrug it all off completely. But as it stood she was completely unprepared for any of it, and thus the girl's warmth was able to penetrate her frozen armor, if only just a bit. For the first time hints of her host's brightness peeked out, and in that moment there was nothing threatening about her in the least; for all the world she seemed as though she were nothing more than a little girl.

The moment soon vanished though and soon she was back to her old self, or at least partially. She still had a bit of an odd cast to her, and there was no immediate reason for the frown on her face that seemed almost...puzzled. Nevertheless she kept her gaze steady, her aura demanding no less respect than it ever did. "I was making certain you weren't too damaged." Somewhere, in the very farthest corner of her mind, it seemed that she could hear and infuriatingly bubbly voice giggle out 'Liar'.

[Motoko Higurashi]

There was barely a moment that made Motoko blink in confusion. What had happened there? For barley a moment, barley a second, she could have sworn the dark fire in Charoa's eyes had softened in the strangest of ways. Even her voice seemed to have softened. I must be hearing things. "I'm glad you're well...I was concerned." The little girl nodded to herself, a little more confidence in her voice. She really was happy Charoa was okay. After all, she was her mistress, her protection, and the person teaching her how to survive in this world. Without her, Moto would be in trouble.

Plus, she would be horribly disappointed if something happened to Char before she could figure her out.

Oh! There it is again!

Motoko took a step forward, closer to the Boogie woman, the next time she saw the shift in her voice and her eyes. A little grin, slyer than before, started on Moto's face. Was it something she was saying getting under Charoa's skin? Was it possible that she was breaking through that dark glass? Maybe she was really worried about me? But the next thing the blueberry heard pushed the possibility back again, and her smile faded.

Only a belonging. Only an experimnent.

"As you can see, I am perfectly fine. My elder sister just wants me here for safety," she giggled a little and whispered to herself, "Even though I sneaked out before." Motoko wasn't sure her mistress had heard that. It didn't really matter to her if she had. Motoko was, after all, just another one of Charoa's slaves.

...I wish I was a little more that that.

You're only a possession to her. Don't get your hopes up.

[Serenity/Charoa Avarie]

The frown on her face grew more pronounced as she realized what was occurring; her control was slipping. Charoa was a creature that was always in control of not only herself but everything around her, could accept nothing less. Fierce and deadly though she was, there were boogies and others that were fiercer and deadlier still; though she would never acknowledge it beyond the darkest corners of her subconscious. Control was her best defense against these things that could only be called beasts. If she was in control then they would not dare even think to challenge her; and those that did would never even get close. Control was what kept her alive.

But she wasn’t in control. Her control had started slipping the moment she had saved the girl at the ball. Certainly the occurrence could be written off as something necessary for the fulfillment of her goals; a dead or disfigured human was of no use to her, but she sensed it was something more than that. This day’s doubts only further cemented her suspicion. Never before had she doubted herself, not once, for any reason. Yet she had been plagued with uncertainties since awaking. The fault of it was certain, though why this should be was yet another mystery. Motoko, the child, was not to blame in this instance. No, the fault was within herself. Her host was manipulating her, using the subtle maneuvers that she herself had employed against the girl these many centuries. What it was she was after she was uncertain, most likely she was trying to gain total control of the body. But Charoa would not let that happen, never.

Her introspection as to her condition of late had led her to be oblivious to goings on around her, to the girl that had approached and spoke, smiling as though the one before her was one who was not deadly as a viper’s strike and just as quick to kill. Later, when she realized that she had had let her guard down she would be furious; but at this small moment of time she was too preoccupied with other matters to notice or care. Even so, whether it was by some sarcastic machination of her fate or some loathsome change, she looked up just in time to see the look in the girl’s eyes as she backed away.

In that moment her body stiffened; a change that was total and yet imperceptible. Her eyes became blank pits of darkness, the black orbs empty of any hint of sentience; just as her face had become nothing more than a pale, blank slate. For a moment she appeared as though she were a porcelain doll; perfectly chiseled to resemble something alive, yet lacking that spark that would make her more than a lifeless figurine.

The moment was soon gone though, and her body loosened once more. Dark eyes shifted into focus, carefully guarded as they came to rest on the small blue-haired girl before her. A tiny spark almost seemed to dance just on the surface of her eyes; moonlight reflecting off the surface of the black pools. In an instant a small smirk appeared on her lips and vanished just as quickly. Despite the fervent activity that was surely filling it, the hospital seemed to have gone completely silent; as though time and space alike had frozen around the two.

A second later and the boogie woman stepped forward, the click of her heels shattering the silence as one hand came up, cupping the girl’s cheek as she leaned down. In the span of a breath the distance was closed, and their lips were lightly pressed together. This is for us….