Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction ❯ Dragon Ex Machina ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

Dragon Ex Machina

 

DISC: I do not own Pet Shop of Horrors or its characters. These are the property of mangaka Matsuki Akino and publishing house Tokyopop (in the U.S., anyway). I make no profit from this story. Please don't sue.

 

 

Prologue : In which a decision for action is made.

 

“Enough.”

 

It took quite a lot to ruffle Shuuko's calm exterior. But she had reached the end of her tolerance. Junrei had been cranky and sullen since Chris had left days earlier. And Kanan had been tense since the moment the shop left the port of San Francisco. (AN: or Los Angeles depending upon which book from the original series you go by. I choose San Francisco. The city they're in doesn't seem Hispanic or criminal enough to be LA to me. So I'm going with SanFran.)

 

At first, Shuuko thought the tension was just because San Francisco was the only place they'd ever lived. But over the next few days the tension grew, her anxiety was palpable, as if she were racing against time.

 

The tension of her siblings wasn't the only issue, though. Underlying that was a growing sense of unease - almost a feeling of resignation. The feeling was almost too familiar. In fact, the resignation reminded her of her own emotions as she convinced Chris to chase after his sisters. But it was different because beneath it all, she felt discontent - as if she knew that there was an error involved: one that desperately needed correction.

 

She couldn't figure it out. And that's what was so frustrating.

 

When it came down to it, Junrei wasn't the only one who would have preferred that Chris stay with them. But because she loved him, she had to do what was best for *him*. He was just a child. It wouldn't be fair to keep him. They had to let him flourish among his own kind. Her own love for the boy would strangle him if she didn't let him go, so she had to be strong.

 

When the shop began to move, she felt that same type of pain she'd felt after Chris left. And while the pain was somehow muted - like an echo of what she'd felt before - it was worse because it was wrong. It wasn't supposed to be. It shouldn't be. Somehow, she knew this with every fiber of her being.

 

And why was she even feeling this pain anyway? It wasn't even associated with anything. A difficult puzzle that required meditation and thought, she attempted to tune out Kanan's occasional bursts of colorful language and Junrei's staccato discontented sighs. The question plagued the “responsible” head of the dragon known as Hon Lon.

 

Shouldn't the pondering of questions and riddles be left to creatures like sphinxes? Why did it trouble her so? It was starting to give her a martyr's complex and make her question whether she was meant to be born a dragon in the first place - much less one with two other, incredibly disparate personalities.

 

Why did Shuuko have to be the responsible head of the three anyway? It would take decades before Junrei ever grew up - if it even happened - and dealing with the brash and unreasonable Kanan was enough to give anyone a complex.

 

And that led to yet another of the conundrums wearying her psyche. A tense Kanan was a quiet and sullen Kanan: quiet - with only the occasional violent outburst. Did no one else but her see how very WRONG that was? How unnatural?

 

Things were just NOT RIGHT. And something needed to be done.

 

But she had no idea what the problem was. What was the cause so that she could do something to fix it?

 

And then…

 

She spied the Detective, her mother, climb onto the ship as it sailed. D, her father, his eyes overflowed and the feeling of resignation and loss hit her like a punch to the throat. His tears kept falling as he pushed her mother overboard, and she watched, a helpless witness, as her mother's eyes widened in shock and then terror - not from fear of falling, but fear of loss - as he reached toward the Count, impotently willing gravity to fail so that he could just stay.

 

D's tears continued to fall as he smiled at all the animals on board and asked them brightly whether Toronto would be a pleasant change of pace. It was as if he had no idea that he was crying. He'd spent so much time hiding his true emotions, did he truly have no realization that his mask had slipped?

 

Shuuko watched it all and thought, `Ah.' All the pieces now fit.

 

As she pondered it, she supposed she'd always felt an emotional connection to her father. She could always pick up on his moods, but she had thought it was just a touch of empathy. Now, she could see that - unless she expended considerable effort - her own moods were truly colored by his. She was bound to D.

 

The inference could then easily be made for Kanan, that she was bound to their mother - bound to Detective Leon Orcot, who had been thrust from the ship and out of their lives.

 

And there was the thing that really was the core of it all. She could feel D and his great unhappiness. Kanan could feel the detective and his great unhappiness. Neither one was happy. They were both adults. So the only reason for this self-inflicted misery was the ill-conceived “revenge” upon the human race for the almost complete destruction of D's race. The belief that humans - even those who lived honorably and tried their best - needed to be judged, found guilty, and then punished into extermination was the cause of it all - the cause of the misery that had encompassed them.

 

It was ridiculous. Because although he would deny it fervently if asked, although he pretended as if everything were fine - that he was fine, the truth that Shuuko could feel was a gnawing sense of emptiness. D was willingly locking himself into a prison of self-inflicted devastation.

 

If left unchecked, he would become cold and unfeeling - not just toward humans, but toward every living being.

 

Something had to be done.

 

She was the responsible one, she would guide the other two. And together, they would fix this untenable mess.

 

 

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