•|| Vigilans somniat ||• Sano Manjiro

•|| Chapter 1||• A foot in the shadows

It was a crimson-stained field, from the floor to the ceiling. In the center, a malicious existence, her arm dyed the same crimson, as if she was one with the room itself. I would say there were screams for help, but that point had long passed. Beneath her was a sorry excuse of a corpse, damaged beyond recognition. Livers, hearts, lungs, organs were flinging across the room, leaving behind fragments of torture and marks of lunacy. With the wooden baseball bat that had long changed color, the girl that had long gone mad kept swinging. Each strike was aimed at a vital point - if there was any left. Surges of blood hit the wall like waves striking the sandcastles on the shoreline. Squinting at the chaotic mess, she soon burst into a hysterical laughter, yet almost resembling the triumphant howl of a successful predator. After all, nothing is better than beating the living daylights out of a pathetic, lowly asshole.

    Her menacing gaze from her purple eyes reeked of hatred, of malice, but also of sorrow, of longing. Her grin had the aura that could make anyone petrified out of pure terror, but the beauty engraved into her expression would leave them stunned in awe. It didn't last long, however.

    Aisha found herself bolting off her bed to the disruptive sound of the cheap alarm clock she bought at a yard sale. What a dream, full of adrenaline. She could feel her nerves tingling, her mind rushing with not-very-nice intentions. It was as if she was still there, in that dyed-red room, with her homicidal baseball bat. Pfft. She didn't have time for that now. 7:30 am, time to go to school again. Gotta shake off that wild dream and head towards the routine. She grabbed the sandwich her uncle prepared for her, gave him a sweet, heartfelt hug, and dashed out the door.

    To be frank, school was definitely not Aisha's cup of tea. She barely slipped through the gates as they slammed shut, then proceeded to walk in a snail's pace towards the white building. School was a place where just one peek at your face or your report card could determine your fate. It was an undisputed must to conform and fit in. Otherwise, the moment you step out of line, dozens of eyes will lock on you and make you their plaything. What's worse, Aisha already stepped out of line. It was her second day at school, and being a new kid brings the attention that need not be mentioned. Already out of line. What choice did she have, anyways? The bullies always travel in packs. Fighting? She could get killed, or worse, expelled.

    Unfortunately for Aisha, fate seemed to have delivered a thumbs-down on her today. Just stay quiet and unnoticeable, she thought. The bullies would stay away. She would have a peaceful and uneventful day, just like any other. But too bad. The lions had set their sights on the helpless prey. Be it bathroom stalls, the dark corners of a classroom, or anywhere reachable in the scope of one's imaginations, the bullies would find her every time. It was no different this time. On her way to class, Aisha found three monstrous builds barricading her path. The one on the front, Nakamura Hitori, with hair that resembled a faded tiger, cornered her slowly towards the open window. She could feel it. The fear. It was slithering up her body, sending many signals of panic channeling throughout her body. The faded tiger shoved her arms forward, causing Aisha to almost topple over the window, if not for her swift motion keeping her delicate body just barely inside. "Oh, poor little Aisha," she smirked, "left alone and helpless once again? Today is another fun day, is it not?" Hitori pulled out the scissors hidden behind her back all this time. Aggressively hovering them over Aisha's elegant hairline, she smugly whispered: "We will give you a little makeover! Or would you like to be thrown out this window instead? What will it be, little Aisha?"

    Aisha could feel her blood boiling, as if turning her into a living pot on a gas stove. How dare they laugh so carefreely? How dare they have the time of their lives? How dare they celebrate her humiliation? Nonetheless, she didn't have time to be fuming. Her life was flashing, as she desperately hung on for her life while three figures hovered over her struggles with delight. If she were to let go, she would be nothing more than a bloody puddle with limbs twisted in a horrifying manner, like a puppet discarded by sadistic children.

    As her hair slowly dropped to the ground, Aisha's eyes seemed to lose all feelings. They opened wide, as if witnessing her soul withering away. Long hair was her dream. She always yearned for the elegant jet-black stream of hair fluttering in the wind. She would be so beautiful. With each stroke of the scissors, she could feel her dream get torn off bit by bit. Hitori and her friends, still hysterical from their "makeover", began to cut more violently, tearing off more and more of Aisha's pride in the process. She didn't have much confidence to begin with. Why else would she try to lurk around unnoticed? Aisha watched Hitori and her gang jog away, emotionally annihilated. Was this how things were meant to be? Was this her fate now? Going to school every day with a fear that would always creep into her heart, and having no friends to reduce the pain? If only Hitori didn't exist. If only she would die. If only. It was as if Aisha could see Hitori slashed repeatedly, with so much blood it could form a pool. If only she could...

    CUT.

    Hitori and her gang continued to giggle, but something had changed. The tiger-striped hair attached to the main bully was already severed. Aisha averted her gaze from the "reformed" look on Hitori's head, her heart pounding like drums inside her ears. She could feel a string of ecstasy somewhere deep in there. Who was the freak now? Who was the one given the "makeover" now? Who was pathetic now? Have fun with the hair, asshole. Running her fingers through the distorted hair, Aisha decided it was time to go home. She had another class left, but that was more than enough.   

    The sky was a gloomy gray, and Aisha could feel the breezes sneaking into her body. Getting a little cold. When she was passing the park, she could hear screams and cheers. They say curiosity kills the cat, but Aisha was willing to be the cat. Didn't want anyone to notice her disgraceful hair, though. Then, why not hide in a bush? No one could humiliate her now.

    A group of delinquents were watching a fight. Aisha couldn't quite understand why she was so drawn to this battle, but nonetheless she was wordlessly observing this match. Short guy with spiky blond hair against tall guy with black short hair. It wasn't even a battle. It was a beating session. Her heart was quenching, as her mind drifted towards what just happened with her hair just now. Why does the weak always have to cower and defend themselves? The blond guy didn't even know how to fight. Why are these bullies always out there, hoping to pick on someone just for the sake of it?

    The blond was barely conscious, blood splattering everywhere. There was nowhere that did not have blood. Aisha was petrified. Would Hitori do just this to her? She did cut her hair on the second day of school. If nothing changes, would her fate be just like this poor blond boy? Tears were welling up in her eyes again, as she trembled at the sheer brutality of the beatdown in front of her. She wanted to help. She wanted to see if the boy was okay. But she couldn't. It was like her legs grew roots into the ground. She was fuming. Why? Why was she such a coward? Why could she not just make a move?

    When she looked up, however, the scene was already resolved. Aisha could see two new faces in the chaos, one with long, blond hair braided back and a dragon tattoo on his left temple, and one with shoulder length hair with its front part tied backward into a small ponytail. They were helping the spiky blond hair guy up, and high-kicking the bully's face while jabbing his ribs. Bones were broken for sure. Nobody dared to speak a word, only silently witnessing the heroic rescue taking place. Aisha spoke nothing, only marvelling at the strength of the two. If only she could be that strong. They looked around, and the crowd quickly dissipated. That intimidation. That brute power. That authority. They could do everything without anyone pestering them. Especially the short guy. His fight was beautiful. No, not even a fight. It was a beating session. An overwhelming display. A magnificent slaughter. She wished she could be like that. But she couldn't.

    It was time to go home, she thought. But when she stood up from her hiding spot, she locked eyes with the short blond guy. His name was Mikey, or so she heard. His eyes wore a deep black, showing so much bloodlust yet so much calmness and playfulness. The hero and the coward stared at each other for what seemed like eternity. She was not supposed to be found. She was only there in silence. And so Aisha quickly took off, dashing as fast as her short legs could manage. Mikey's eyes followed her for a short while, watching as she tripped on a rock on the side of the road. What an interesting girl, he thought. Wonder who that was.