fiendish heart [1]

21 。do not stand at my grave and cry

「050426」

Droplets of ice cold water cascaded down the dark bricks, entwined vines held some of the spill up, gradually lowering the rain to the ground. With streaks down his cheeks and soaked locks, a boy sat beneath the sorry looking shelter that wept above him.

He sat there alone getting drenched by rain. In the silent midnight hour, the single drops could be heard distinctly as if each were a different instrument, together forming an orchestra of atmospheric symphony.

His fingers moved with undeniable skill, intricately filing a stick of dull emerald. In the moonlight, the iridescent glow of the piece he was so fond of brought a spark to his midnight eyes, pupils blown out with the darkness surrounding his hunched figure. This boy looked peaceful to those who wandered by, he was just like any other orphan. It was something common in the streets in the out city, and if he kept his head low with the hood of his cloak over his head, he blended almost entirely with the shadows. A perfect disguise for a boy not wanting to be found.

No older than seven, Kook watched the tired men stride home to their families. Some would murmur quietly on the phone as they did. That was what brought him to the spot on the corner of a resident street and a small market. The conversations he heard were delightful; full of new words and emotion.

His fingers worked gently along the edges as he ran a smaller blade at an angle along the sides, carving down a sharp spine. He knew it was close, after months of working at the dagger he would finally have it finished. One day he hoped it could be in museum exhibitions, studied by someone of importance. That was a kindled thought that died out in time. For now, he whittled with talent, gradually forming a thin, flat blade that would become his prideful possession.

「050915」

Encased in reflective glass that shone with the bright glare of the sun was a large expensive chain that many people had gathered to admire. Murmurs of interest swept through the crowd that huddled near the public playgrounds that had children hanging from poles, eyes glued to the sealed fortune.

„I will give a moment before we begin an auction." From the shadows Kook watched the deal, tapping his fingers against the solid emerald now shaped to perfection in his grasp. All he needed now was a final material to complete the hilt. This was his moment.

Without disturbing the crowd, he squeezed through small gaps, keeping his cloak over his eyes and head down as he pushed to the front. With the seller distracted by a concerned business man, Kook swiftly climbed up to the stand, thrusting out the emerald so that it shattered the screen of glass. He didn't hesitate to snatch up the chain, hearing a raucous roar from behind him and in seconds there were footsteps slamming down against concrete after him.

He was light on his feet and agile enough to slip off the stage and dash down the street, the cold metal keeping his hands tucked under his cloak as he tugged at the main sewerage system tunnels, pulling the disc from the path before slipping himself inside. Releasing the breath he had been holding, he slipped the disc back on just as boots slammed down onto the thick material.

„You're an absolute maniac." A voice spoke, familiar to his ears, it adorned a smile on his face.

„Thank you, Seokjin." From the shadows, his friend emerged, a wicked grin plastered on his undeniably impressed expression. „I do not think that they saw me, so we should get back before I find out I am wrong. Can you carry this?" He didn't stop to wait for an answer, dropping the chain into his brother's hands before moving down the echoey tunnels. No life was around to experience the delinquency of their acts, so they strode on with gleeful conversation.