Ice

Most people said that Eyes Rutherford played the piano wonderfully. Some even meant that he was a genius, a natural born talent, a treasure to be cherished. And cherish it they did, his managers, his loyal fans, all the people all over the world who chanced to come to one of his concerts, or buy one of his CD albums. As if his piano music was really worth anything.

Eyes himself knew better. True music was a thing of the heart, and no matter how how perfectly he performed his pieces, there were always something missing. Something warm and emotional that should have been there but wasn't.

After all, Eyes had not chosen to become a pianist. It had been his mother who had put him down in front of the piano ever since his earliest childhood. She hadn't done it because she thought he would like it, nor because she felt he had talent. She had done it out of fear. Fear of her own son, fear of the monster she had given birth to. In order to put an end to Eyes' bloodthirst, she had pinned him down by the piano, for hours and hours, each day the same. And he had learned, pretty soon he had learned that only by playing the piano well he could make his mother smile. So he had played well.

He supposed she had done it out of good will. She hadn't quite understood the curse of the Blade Children - mistakenly thinking that by giving her son a distraction, she could cancel the urges to kill that was his legacy - but her intentions had been good enough. Eyes still had some fond memories of her, of the few times she had looked at him without fear and apprehension in her eyes. But he hadn't cried when she died.

Then again, Eyes Rutherford didn't cry. He couldn't remember ever shredding tears, just as he couldn't remember ever laughing out loud. It just wasn't in him, these outbursts of emotion that other people seemed to be full of. He supposed it could have been, once, but he had known about the curse too early, and he hadn't fought against it enough.

Eyes coughed. He had almost choked on the final piece of his lasagna - that's what he got for immersing himself too deeply into thought. He cleared his throat and turned his mind back on his surroundings. He was sitting in a small Italian restaurant in the outskirts of Shinjuku. His table was right by one of the few windows, and he could watch people walk past on the street outside. A light rain had started to fall, and people were pulling out their umbrellas. Eyes realized that he hadn't brought one himself, but he didn't bother to worry about it.

He finished the last of his cider and watched the ice cubes scramble back into the glass when he put it down, then he stared at them for a moment longer. Ice... Pale, hard, beautiful, cold. Just like himself, he mused. He was pale enough to be an ice statue, and certainly hard and cold enough as well. As for beautiful, that's what his managers and fans told him. He didn't really care.

The ice cubes held his gaze so well that he almost missed a couple of girls sneaking into the restaurant. They were whispering among themselves over at the entrance, but Eyes suddenly realized they were glancing his way. His attention shifted over to them at once, and both of them almost jumped when he placed his cold, all too blue eyes on them.

"Ehhh... Well..." one of them managed to squeak. "Eye... Eyes Rutherford?" She took a couple of steps towards him, and the other girl followed closely behind the one who had spoken. Both were staring at him like he was something they had longed to see, only to realize that he wasn't what they had expected at all.

"That's me," Eyes answered. He got that reaction sometimes from his fans. He didn't know what it was they expected. Perhaps that he would smile at them, or that he would rage and tell them to get out. He would do neither, of course. He did nothing but look at them, and that made them shirk.

"We... We're very sorry to disturb you..." the first girl said and walked, slowly, over to Eyes' table. "We didn't expect to see you here, you see, and I didn't even bring my sign book, but..." She turned to rummage through her small shoulderbag. Finally she picked out a small pink notebook with a waving Hello Kitty on the front cover. "Would you please sign my notebook? Please?"

"Sure." Eyes took the notebook from her trembling hands and flipped through the pages until he found one that was empty. The girl seemed to relax when his gaze left her for the notebook, but he could still feel her stare on his face. Suddenly she seemed to realize something, for she went back with her hand into her bag and came up a second later with a pen.

"Here!" she said and handed it to him.

He nodded and took it. It was a normal blue ball-point pen. He drew a small spiral pattern in the corner to make sure it worked, then he scribbled down his sign and handed notebook and pen back to the girl.

"Thank you so much!" She bowed and practically beamed, nervousity and wariness temporarily forgotten. But the other girl behind her looked down at the sign and suddenly frowned.

"Hey, Keiko," she whispered and nudged her friend. "Isn't this a bit..." Eyes couldn't hear what she was saying, but she was obviously pointing to his sign as if something was wrong.

"Let me see." Eyes grabbed the notebook and glanced at his own writing. Ice Rutherford. An unconscious slip - it was almost amusing. "I see," he said to the girl, Keiko. "I can redo it."

"No, no!" Keiko exclaimed and took her notebook back. She smiled nervously. "It's fine, I promise! Thank you so much!" She bowed again, several times, and with Eyes' frozen, unreadable gaze still on them, both girls hurried out of the restaurant.

Eyes let his chin rest on his hand and glanced back at the ice cubes in his glass. They were the same as a few minutes ago; pale, hard, beautiful and cold.

Outside, the light rain had changed into wet snow. How fitting.

But at the same time, a small voice inside Eyes told him that according to the laws of nature, all ice will eventually melt.

He wanted to believe it was true.