His Name Is Mugen

The Scent of Fear

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The sky was crying today as it should of been for there was nothing to be happy about. Freedom was a luxury given to those who had time and for Mugen Holt, time was even in all his riches something he could never afford. His future was set in stone long before he was even conceived and his moments were wasted away on making his parents' wishes come to pass. His future appeared blessed on the surface, he'd take over the family business, marry the woman of his father's choice, live a long life draped in riches.

To hell with that!

Mugen didn't want it anything to do with the family business and found his tolerance towards his family slowly diminishing. All he wanted was to live the life the Lord blessed him with, not the life his parents scribbled down on a spare piece of paper and ordered him to memorize.

But alas, we all cannot get what we want. Mugen's father had found the perfect bride for him and arranged the marriage within a day. He was to marry Titania, heiress of the Hellon chain Hotels.

Mugen was familiar with Titania as they attended the same private school and even had a small affair much to his own regret. Titania was wildly intellectual and she and Mugen often competed for the top spot in their schooling days. She was tall in height, slim in her figure, smooth and creamy was her complexion. Her strawberry blonde hair was always styled in soft curls that hung loosely down her back and flew freely in the wind.

She was the best fit to stand alongside Mugen according to his father. She was indeed a beautiful and intelligent woman but Mugen no longer considered her as the standard. He wanted something more than looks and intelligence. Craved something more. Needed something more.

Once Mr. Holt broke the news of his engagement, Mugen fled the mansion in a fit of rage destroying his mother's favorite china on his way out. The guards at the gate armed themselves willing to stop the young master's departure at all cost but the elder master allowed his son to pass. Wanting no drama at the family sit down, he decided to let his son cool off and return after he had calmed.

But Mugen hadn't calmed down. Far from it. He left his car back at the mansion and jogged for miles in the pouring rain. He lost track of time and where he was going. The raindrops were brittle and harsh despite spring being here. The clouds were a gloomy grey and the air was plaqued by a thick fog. His teeth clattered together and threatened to sever his tongue.

His heart ached in pain and he clutched his wounded chest. His lungs burned and it felt like his airways were clogged. He felt betrayed, trapped, and wronged. If for a day the Lord granted him the ability to live freely, he would spend his whole life in the mere 24 hours. He was only at the tender age of 22, he needed to feel his youth. His knees were buckling and promised to give out at any moment. His face was drenched but he couldn't tell if it was from the rain or his tears. The rain was freezing but he was shivering his grievances away.

He almost tripped because his suit clung to his body like second skin and hindered his movements. He finally stopped running to catch his breath. They came out in short, heavy pants. He took in his surroundings and noticed he was no longer near home. He had run all the way from the classy suburbs to the mucky city where the lower echelons ran amok.

During the downpour of the newly spring rain, Mugen stood on top of a hill and gazed down at the empty field of roses below him.

There in the very middle, danced a girl in the frilliest of dresses, twirling and spinning like the cold rain wasn't affecting her mobility. She leaped in the air like second nature and stretched her limbs like it was another outlet for breathing.

Mugen was bewitched and hooked on the girl in the red dress that blended so perfectly with the roses that he'd almost mistaken her for one.

"Black Rose." The words absentmindedly escape his trembling lips. He was in a trance. His body betrayed him, moving closer to the dancing flower without his permission. His mouth was dry despite all the water present. Whichever direction her hips swayed, his conviction followed.

He couldn't look away and the more he watched her, the deeper he fell into the space where only she and him existed. His senses blocked out all interruptions and focused entirely on the enthraller that stole his attention.

He was entering a new world with her at its center. He witnessed how all the stars aligned her path and marveled at her greatness. A new goddess was entering his life and he'd give up every man's sin to pray at her feet. There was a longing on his part. He wanted a life he couldn't live and an addictive love he didn't need and for him there was a forever loss.

Still, Mugen was fixated on her twists, her turns, and her captivating sway. The way she stopped and stared, and then kicked her feet. The way she dropped and then she rose without missing a beat, all in the same instance. It was like his world was coming undone but she was putting it back together. He was at her mercy.

He had to look away and denounce his 7 sins but when he turned back the wandering rose was gone and she took his breath with her. But, even from a faraway distance that rose blew his mind. She was a summer night on his December day and she was going to be his.

Mugen jolted awake in a fit of rage and uneasiness. His heart raced and it felt danger coming from the unknown. Sweat dripped down his body. It had been a while since he dreamed of seeing the Black Rose for the first time. It had him confused and rattled. He just knew something was wrong.

"Sarasi." His veins trembled and his hands gripped the bed sheets. There was something lurking in the air and he didn't like it.

It was the scent of fear.