5"Mister Fox, May I eat your eyes?"
The wolf simply grinned, bright red eyes shining as bright as the sun, "But, why, little girl, haven't you noticed? I am quite blind."
The little girl paused, astonished, before nodding a bit, "What a coincidence, Mister Fox, for I am blind too. I do not exactly mind what eyes I am to swallow."
Mister Wolf simply chuckled and shook his own head, "For you see, little child, you seem misinformed. For I, not a fox, am a ferocious wolf- children don't simply ask me for things. Why is it you want my eyes, girl?"
"Mister Wolf, May I eat your eyes?"
And so he swallowed her whole, eyes, cape, and soul.
Sayu's teachers said that this wasn't appropriate for school.
She responded that they can't stifle her creativity.
Her parents yelled at her after.
Sometimes Sayu, eight years old and bored, pondered the silly things that seemed to matter so much to people. Sometimes she wondered what the difference was between fiction and reality when there's no perceived difference. She often asked herself if those were normal things to think.
(they weren't, but she couldn't possibly know that)
She would think about her brother, and how imperfect of a human being he was. Too focused on school to truly ever live (Sayu would often imagine that Light would be a terrible father, too focused on work. But that was all he knew anyways), and yet people kissed the very ground he walked on. Like he knew what he was doing, like he wasn't just doing what he knew.
Sayu tried to be different, as that was where her tangled thoughts always brought her. Sayu was going to be different.
Sometimes Sayu would lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling blankly, and ask, "Am I alive?"
She didn't feel alive, she felt too distant to be alive. But people acted like she was alive. Like she was a person.
It was odd, how perspective could shift reality so.
And so, one day, she finally came to the conclusion that it took more than a beating heart to be alive. She also realized that she was surrounded by dead people. People who have lives but refuse to live them because they stick to what they know.
It was sad and she cried a bit thinking about it. And that was how Sayu Yagami gained her life philosophy.
"Hey, Light?" Sayu wondered, as she absentmindedly read through a book of poetry (probably rather advanced for an eight year old), a collection as she was still figuring out which poet she would prefer to read.
Light, 11 years old, was sitting next to her at the living room table, doing homework. "Yeah?"
"Do you love me?" She flipped a page.
Light paused and glanced at his sister before continuing with his homework, "Of course."
He said it earnestly, yet contained- no love bursting from the words. And Sayu felt like she wanted to burst into tears. She didn't know why, if they were happy or sad tears. But she didn't cry, just focused solely on the poetry in her book.
'In the vivid morning
I wanted to be myself.
A heart.
And at the evenings end
I wanted to be my voice
A nightingale.
Soul,
turn orange colored.
Soul,
turn the color of love.'