CHAPTER THREE

The young man tapped his fingers against the wooden table in agitation; this shouldn't really surprise him. He was never aloud to the family's main feasting area since they labeled him insane. Not that he particularly cared; the voices were real. Of that much Hiryuu was sure seeing that it just had to be so. He could remember it all so vividly...And he also knew that he remembered that slave girl from someplace else. She was the key to so many other memories that he wanted to hold at his fingertips. He just had to be patient, he'd have her in no time and once he did, he had all the time in the world to figure out those mysteries. He only cared about those things, sure she was beautiful but as for that he could give a damn less about her well being. All he wanted...was what that slave girl represented. Now if only he could remember her name...

No matter. He just didn't really care. His bored expressions didn't change as he continued to tap his right fingers; his left hand was occupied for the chin of his head rested in it. Hiryuu ignored the food in front of him for it didn't overly interest him. Nothing did anymore. Besides even if he didn't eat much he still held a slender body at a decent weight. Something only he could manage, it didn't matter how much or how little he ate; his weight never changed. Purple strands of hair had long since fallen into his pale face but he made no move to push them away.

The door creaked; it rang across the small barren room. After all there was only the plain wooden table and chair in the room, other than himself and the food surrounded by the musty stonewalls. The ground was damp; you could see some lichen growing off the walls. An interesting plant, it didn't need to grow out of soil or wood. An organism that can grow on rock...Interesting.

Well there was a tattered tapestry that hung on a wall parallel to him. It was falling apart and despite its fading beauty, Hiryuu just wanted to tear it apart. But he restrained himself for the whole point of its existence was for him to do so and he didn't want to be what they expected of him. He despised the King, a man who he refused to call 'father.' And Judith...even though she was his mother, Hiryuu harbored no feelings of love and never will.

A slightly pointed ear perked up when he heard something click, the door creaking anew. His eyes wondered to the door in a split second just in time to see a young looking girl push herself in. She was breathless with pink cheeks, an obvious sign that she had been running. Hiryuu kept his face bored though something unrecognizable flickered in his brown eyes, shadows moving in response.

The younger woman paused as she caught her breath, her yellow brown eyes lit up as her hand moved to push out the yellow strands of hair that stuck into her face, intermingled with sweat. The girl took a deep breath before she walked into the small room towards the plain wood table with carelessly tossed food. Though she was supposed to bring it back to the cooks, the girl would eat it instead rather lead it to waste. The food they gave their workers was hardly enough to keep them alive all that long in most cases. You could tell as more bodies succumbed to lack of food or disease.

She stopped at midstep so that she was facing Hiryuu. Though it wasn't exactly encouraged, except in the most formal of occasions, she curtsied lifting up whatever she could of her small tattered dress that lacked the puffiness of nobility. She stayed down for but a moment before dropping her skirts and looking up, her voice was rather soft though it wasn't the prettiest voice a man could hear, "Good evening, Prince." Though her voice was soft it had that calm, yet serious tone to it that spoke of formality. The girl was but a servant, or slave after all to this higher-ranking person, even though he was insane. She believed as much, as so many others.

Hiryuu decided to amuse her, and perhaps himself, with a small nod. There was a sly smirk attempting to grow at the corners of his lips, eyes lighting up betrayal in his look of boredom. He didn't care much for the girl but a thought had crossed his mind that could be so beneficial to him. Hiryuu could have sworn he'd seen this girl with the purple haired slave that he wanted so. He didn't necessarily know her name for he didn't bother himself with such things, even though she came basically everyday to serve and clean up his 'dinner' among other things.

"Hello dear," his voice held a tinge of arrogance, the smirk growing into fruitation. "Come to clean up I see," he trailed off momentarily as his eyes swept to his food in a gesture that she couldn't miss. His tone was 'normal', or as normal as it could be.

"Yes, Sir Prince." It was all that she could get out after all, her blonde becoming an annoyance that she couldn't, yet had to, ignore. The small room seemed to close in around her, the damp ground's moisture being sucked up by her tattered cloth shoes. They hardly offered any protection whatsoever.

He had stopped tapping his fingers by now and ran them against the length of the wooden table, all the while watching his fingers in child-like interest before looking back up at the young girl with his brown eyes darkening a shade. "Tell me," he looked to be without emotion, and it reminded the girl of what an executioner might look like under the black mask. He interlaced his fingers, elbows on the table with his head resting on the backs of his hands. Hiryuu's long hair fell forward in long, purple strands. He didn't say much but it may have meant something, his eyes glued to the table, a small frown growing on his face. "What is your relationship to her?" He looked up so that their eyes met, daring her to look away. Hiryuu knew that she knew whom he meant.

The young girl took a deep breath, body frozen. Her chest hurt like hell, as if some shadowy hand was giving her heart 'pleasant' squeezes at its leisure. She wasn't exactly sure what he meant either. Besides why was he talking to her in the first place? The imaginary, shadowy hand tightened about her heart and this time didn't let go. Fushou took a deep breath, squeezing her eyelids shut; the only action she was aloud to take for her body didn't exactly respond. She played the images in her head with An'ya suddenly jumping into her thoughts. Why her...? Didn't matter. Now that she actually thought about it the girl seemed like something was overwhelming her earlier, which probably explained the extra screw-ups as well as the subject of her brother. A man in which An'ya hardly remembered.

She scrunched up her eyes before forcing them open only to see, to her dismay, that Hiryuu was now on his feet, well not exactly. The food that was supposed to be his was pushed to the farthest end of the table, on the verge of falling off. He sat crossed legged on the table with his left hand in his lap, right resting on the table itself. He looked bored though there was something different in his eyes... something that she couldn't place. But it scared her.

It was such a simple question, but to bring up that much...She caught her breath, doing her damned hardest to ignore the pain that grew ten fold in her chest, which was to the point that it would kill her if it didn't stop. "Do...you...mean...A...An'y..a?" Fushou forced out, the pressure lessening to a small degree.

Hiryuu nodded; He seemed to be a different person almost, if it was even a possibility. "Ah yes, that's her name...I knew that, of course I did...Why shouldn't I...?" He trailed off, bits of pieces of insanity gleaming in his eyes with his nails digging into the wood of the table. "... Go on," Hiryuu stated matter of factly.

She nodded quickly, catching her voice. "An'ya is my friend...Or I hope so..."