Incipience

Flashback

Uyber watched his friend sleep. His pale eyes never strayed, even when traffic rushed past their hideout. Uyber pulled up his checkered bandanna and let his eyes move to his open book.

He never really understood revenge. Nobody had ever 'wronged' him. He never had a reason to get back at anyone. Uyber let out a small sigh.

It made some sense, if he pondered over it. A dollborne banette wanting revenge on their old owner. If someone had loved him for years and then thrown him out as if he weren't some living being, he supposed he would be pissed too. But killing them seemed a bit extreme.

That's not how Bozu saw it. He was hellbent on killing the girl. The burning hatred that consumed his eyes when he saw her scared Uyber. The cutlass made it worse. Bozu was experienced with it, adept at using it. He only had it for about a week and he had mastered the art of it.

Emily was still in the hospital. Uyber knew that from general gossip. Bozu hadn't made an attempt to kill her since her initial hospitalization. Uyber saw that as a relief. Whether he had given up or was just tired, it was still a good thing.

Bozu was an interesting guy. When he wasn't focused on murder, he was more laidback and civilized. He preferred to relax in his spare time, rather than train or deviate more plans. He also had fur, though he tried to keep it hidden.

Uyber couldn't help his feelings. His nonexistent heart would pound when he thought about losing Bozu to death. He knew what it was. He just chose to deny it, for the moment anyways.

Emily felt scared. She felt vulnerable, despite the lights illuminating her room and the nurses that promised that she'd be safe. Her blue eyes scanned the room again.

She'd live. That was promised. The chemicals hadn't done enough damage to be fatal. But that didn't scare her. No, it was the banette that made her quaver.

She knew him. She knew the banette, and had known him for years. She never got over the loss of her favorite doll. It had been a petite swablu plush, the fluffy wings seemingly real clouds. It was an adoption gift from her mother, and had been her first toy. She had called the small bird Bozu, after the swablu teru teru bozus that hung in her window. She adored them and that made the name more special.

Her mind revisited that day. She remembered the pounding rain and the frantic running to the car. She wasn't the one running. She was the one being carried, her arms wrapped around her doll. She hugged it tighter, hoping the storm would begone. Her dad tripped and fell. Emily went rolling across the ground. Quickly, she grasped onto her dad as he ran for the car.

She remembered a second too late. The car was already pulling away when her doll was remembered. She saw it on the ground, drenched in rain, mud staining the wings and red scarf she had attached to it. She begged and screamed for her parents to stop, to turn back, even for a second. But the car kept going.

"We'll replace it," her mother had told her. They did just that. But it wasn't the same. Emily gave the new doll to her cousins, disgusted. Nothing could replace the first toy she ever had. It was Christmas, two days later, when she chose to accept the replacement doll. She hugged it in bed.

Somehow, its wings weren't as fluffy.

Uyber noticed Bozu's crying almost immediately. He looked over at the banette, watching as tears leaked from his closed eyes. He hugged himself with a small shiver, tail twitching.

Uyber watched until he couldn't take it. He crawled over and gently shook Bozu, only pausing as his hands met his friend's fur. It was unrealistically soft, as if he was touching clouds. Shaking his head, he shook Bozu again.

"What do you want?" Bozu had opened his eyes halfway. His voice was soft and carried a miffed tone.

"Are you alright...?" Uyber was worried, to say the least.

"Yes. Memories are a bitch." Bozu sat up, eyes on the ground. He stood up and grabbed his cutlass. He looked at Uyber. "I just need to be alone." He turned away and slipped into the shadows. Uyber frowned as he watched him go, despite the pale blush spreading to his face.

This chapter is kind of a break from the angst. More of a chapter focused on the characters and their motivations. This also explains why it's shorter. I try to make my chapters more than 2000 words each. Not stellar to some, but I've only been writing for 5 or so years and started posting 2 years ago. Spent 3 years not worrying about how long a chapter should be.

I'd say this is halfway done. My original script was 15 chapters, but removing some unneeded material shortened it down to 10. I want to finish this before continuing other works such as Divided and Radioactive, mostly so my followers can see how I write. I try to proofread before I post, but my program's wack and I'm human so I may miss some mistakes.

I do find darker subjects easier to write. It may just be what I've read. A friend says I also write good fluff, but I never have the guts to post a one shot fluff fic here. No, I do not regret liking Banette so much.