literature

Mellodia della Foresta (ch. 1)

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“Hey, look! It’s the freak!”

“Roma, just ignore them,” his father spoke softly, keeping his hands on his son’s shoulder, pushing him forward.

“Look at his hair! It looks like brown shit!”

“His eyes, they’re like a demon!”

“How’s your mom, freak?!”

“Keep walking, just keep walking,” he begged his son.

“Hey, how does it feel to have cursed your crap father to illness?!”

“Romano, no!” Im Yong-soo held his son back as much as he can, with little strength he had, but his son’s strength was too much. Born a Conquisto, Romano’s strength was inhuman, able to carry a large boulder on his shoulder with little effort at the tender age of nine. He’s learned to control that strength, but only to the point where he can take care of his father’s crops and sell it for money. It took all the man could to just keep his son from beating the cruel people who insulted him. “Let it go, we’re going to be late for opening!” he called in vain.

It took all the nearby villagers to pull him off the small group of three. And then, Yong-Soo began his normal apologies, Romano soon walking away after his father made him bow his head to those who made fun of his father. His father often scolded him for his anger issues, but he couldn’t help but understand why he turned out the way he did.

“Honestly, Romano, what would your mother say?” he asked him, catching up to him in the marketplace. Romano kept quiet, keeping his face turned forward. “Your mother wouldn’t like you getting violent on them. They already call you a savage, so you should –“

“Just give them what they want,” Romano stated, completing his father’s statement. “Mom’s not here anymore, and they keep staining your name, so I won’t stop it.”

“But even so, you don’t have to become what they believe.”

“I don’t think I became what they believed. I am what they believe in. That’s never going to change.”

“And so you shut them all out?” Yong-soo stated in an annoyed tone. “They won’t ever stop believing it if you don’t change yourself. You can’t keep doing this to yourself, creating everyone else into monsters so you don’t have to deal with them. You have to reach out to them in order to change their views. Just reach out and open up to them more. Not everyone is a horrible decimating person. ” He told him in a stern, but worried tone. “I don’t want you to be alone.”

Romano exasperated, brushing himself ahead of his adoptive father. “But I’m not alone. I got you with me.”

“But you won’t always –“

“But I do right now.”

Yong-Soo sighed in defeat. “I don’t get it. You get insulted and you’ll take it, but when I get insulted, you’d go berserk …” he smiled sadly. “I understand your frustration, I appreciate you defending me, but please, it doesn’t make me happy. You have to be friendlier … You’re a very nice guy, and when you’re not fighting, you’re pleasant, but only to foreigners like you in a sense. And those people don’t come by a fairly racist village like this one.”

Romano looked down and away from his father once more. “I know …” he stated. “But even if I was friendly, those guys would be made fun of, just for buying our things.” And the only way they got around it was with looks of pity for the ‘monster’ of the village. He hated those people. His dad’s food produce was the highest quality, yet because of him, Yong-Soo couldn’t get away from the stigma of raising the ‘monster’.

“Then if you know, why can’t you stop?” he asked him, desperately. “Please … just let them in. I don’t want you to continually prove you’re a savage. I know you’re not, but –“

“Come on, we gotta set up.” Romano and Yong-Soo arrived in their normal spot, shabby and broken down. Romano gathered up some old and dull tools to try and fix it up better, but when you were very poor, you can only afford the shabbiest of materials to make your stand look only poorly better. Since Yong-Soo was feeling moderately better than usual, Romano stationed himself to just taking care of buying customers by handling the money and bagging of items.

Though the streets were bustling more than usual, Romano believed mainly because of his violent nature and his obvious foreign look – he bore pale skin brown hair and golden eyes, while the native bore dark skin with black hair and green eyes – it was his fault no one came to the shop. However, with his father’s help, they somehow had managed to meet a little above their quota for the day. The rest of the day passed by quietly, Romano somehow managing to stay out of view after closing, enough for his father to go to the other shops to buy medicine and other needed items and then go on home. If he was seen more than needed, his father would never hear the end of ridicule.

Even as he sat outside, he looked up into the red twilight sky and sighed. He loved his father, endearingly. They might have not always got along, but he loved him. Even when he caused nothing but trouble for his dad, Yong-Soo still accepted him.

They arrived home, the sun set, far beyond the reach of the villagers. It was a small house, big enough for three, just right for the duo. “Good evening Maricela! ~” Yong-Soo greeted as he turned on the lights. “We managed to have a nice day today! Roma! Say hi to mommy!” he called out to his son, holding out a picture of a smiling woman.

Romano simply looked at him and then the picture. “I’m going out,” he spoke to her picture and left without another word.

“Wait, Roma –”

Slam!

Yong-soo sighed and looked down at his former wife. His mother, Maricela, compassionate and kind, was Romano’s only limiter, the only person who was really capable of holding him back, not in physical strength, but emotional strength. She always knew what to say when he got angry at other villagers. But after her death, all gloves were off for insults, regarding her adopting a foreigner, especially a Conquisto, known for their “savage behavior”. Yong Im-Soo was not spared, so his relationship with his dear father became distant, despite his father’s pleas to stay close and depend on him more. He wished he paid more attention to the words she said to his son, but he didn’t and was always forced to try and hold back his son in the physical way.

It has been many years since his mother passed away. Yong-Soo did his best to provide for his son, but even he couldn’t win against disease. So when Romano was old enough, starting from age 15, he took over the farm of his father. There were days that he had no choice but let his son go. They were still poor, they were still struggling, but Romano did his best to keep strong. However, it never helped when he defended his dying, ridiculed father by getting violent. He knew he was a kind boy, and Maricela always reinforced that, but …

“I’m worried … he’s kind, and yet, he’s forced his stigma to become clear to everyone … I’m joining you soon … but I don’t feel good if … if he keeps like this. I don’t want to die … with him being with no one …”

------------------------------------------------------

Romano enjoyed walking in the forest at night, especially within the winter. No one would see him, nor could anyone hurt him. No one would even see him cry to himself. They lived on the outskirts of town, near edges of the forest of the god “Bathalang Maykapál.” He never really believed in him, but his mother and father always did. It was their religion. The stories were long died away, but he came here anyway for a reason. It was a place of happiness for him, even within the night. It reminded him of a happier time.

It was here, when his life was peaceful.

No one came to the forest, at least not this deep into it. Though he and his father lived peacefully in this forest, it was always because no one would ever go in. Many would lose their way and become lost if they didn’t know the forest that well. However, within the center of the forest, there stood a beautiful tree. Her mother said it was the earthen form of the Supreme Creator ‘Bathalang Maykapál’, or Bathala more commonly nowadays. Why he chose the shape of a tree, Romano would never understand as a child. However, as he grew, he came up with his own reasons why Bathala would choose a shape of a tree; it would be because you wouldn’t be judged. No one would judge a tree, they stood tall and beautiful. They may get hurt somewhere, but they stood strong.

At this tree, he remembered his mother told him it was already many thousands of years old. And yet, to her, it still looked very young. Even to this day, it continued to stand strong as ever. Coming here gave him some strength, as his mother would often sing to it before she passed away. He never understood why, but she would tell him she was praying for brighter days. He never believed in prayers, never believed in wishing. He was to be on his own, and that was that. He had to get used to it now. But … he didn’t want it like that at the same time. Even when he said he’d be fine by himself, he knew he’d loath it.

He was scared.

So he began to come to this tree, late at night where no one would see, to pray. Every day since his father was diagnosed with the same disease as his mother, every day since those many months ago. He never understood why he wanted to pray for his father health, even after it was said there was no cure. There were only stalls for it taking his life immediately. But perhaps he was desperate for the impossible. But today, he had to accept the fact that there was no way of curing his father, no matter how desperately he would wish. He looked up with a sad smile to the branches.

“… I don’t … get along with anyone here …” he spoke softly, speaking underneath the tree’s branches. “My father … you’ve already heard me speak about him before … He’s dying … and … it’s in the final stages …” he spoke softly, his voice beginning to shake. “My mother and father … were branded as traitors because of me. My mother soon fell ill after she took me in and after she passed away when I was seven, my father received harsher punishment. Now he's being hurt with me. Even if I defend him, he doesn't like the way I do it, but what choice do I have left. I'm sorry I'm alive. I'm sorry that everyone even has to deal with my existence. But even so, I don't want to be alone. Please ... Anyone will do.

Someone, please be my friend …”

Again … Just like always. No reply. Romano sighed, his breath shakey. It was about time for him to go home again, just like always. He looked up at the moon once more and stood. Even a friend was impossible for the ‘monster’. But then, he heard a kind of whispering, almost singing within the trees. It was strange, but he figured it was nothing and began to walk away. A twig snapped from a little far away, but he ignored it. However, it began to get closer and closer. His heart began to thump loudly.

Was his wish really being granted right now?

He took in a deep breath and hid behind a tree, his gold eyes centering to where the noises came from. Who in the world was crazy enough to travel within the forest, especially this deep into it, at nightfall? He had his doubts of who this crazy person would be, being especially skeptical that all of the sudden, the Superior Creator suddenly would grant his wish. That Guy probably half-assed it because he was bugging him all the time with pointless dreams and impossible wishes. But still, he was excited, even by just a bit.

Until he locked his gaze to where the noise stopped. Black hair, dark skin shining from the moonlight, he knew deep down … Bathala was a terrible asshole to him. Of all the people he could’ve sent him, he sent a chick whom everyone he knew of the same race were to show contempt and loathing of him. He was about to turn away when he heard a loud thump. She wasn’t moving too much. She didn’t show signs of moving. He stared at her for a bit and then began to walk in the other direction. “Bathala was trying to be a jerk. He really didn’t send someone to me.” He spoke out loud as he walked, peeking another look to the side.

He began to walk faster, convincing himself that it was probably her just deserts for being the way she is. But he kept looking back. He didn’t know if maybe she was going to be okay, he didn’t understand it. Why send that girl’s kind to be friends? It was obvious it’s never going to happen! Romano began to grit his teeth as he paced faster.

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” He heard his father say in his head. He ran faster, stomping his footprints into the ground. “Not everyone is a horrible decimating person.” He stomped harder. “Just reach out … I don’t want you to be alone.” Romano finally stopped and looked behind him. She didn’t seem to be moving at all. She didn’t make much movement. He could barely see her breathing.

“… Son of a BITCH!!” he screamed out loud. Stomping hard on the ground and kicking himself off from a tree, he dashed back towards her. ‘Bathala, whether this is a prank or a joke, or even a gift, How dare you make me unable to ignore it!!’ he thought in anger. “Hey! Girlie!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, jumping partway in midair to get close to her side. He picked her upper half up slightly and took a good look at her. Her clothes were torn, as if she was in a process of being mugged, but looked like she got away okay. She was injured though, a bit on the bad side, not life threatening. She was still breathing, but just barely. He touched her forehead and he realized she was burning up badly.

Her eyes fluttered open up at him and stared up at him. He winced slightly and refrained from stating anything to her. The way she looked up at him, it was soft and gentle. As if she wasn’t judging him at all with her eyes. But maybe she was too ill to see him fully. “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to deal with this piece of shit for a bit,” he stated in an annoyed tone as he picked her up.

“How … strange …” she said, her voice hoarse. “your scent …”

“Yeah, I smell like crap, deal with it for a while longer,” he stated, his tone exasperated.

“The … forest … boy …” she spoke again. “… it’s … the … same …”

He was now very confused, but it didn’t matter right now, he was near his house. “DAD!!” he called out, his voice desperate and irritable. “Where’s the medicine?!” He kicked open the door, causing it to fly inside and made a bit of a mental note to fix that later. Setting her down on the ground, he looked frantically for some medicine, something cold, but he didn’t know what he was looking for anymore. She was burning up and needed something now.

“Forest … boy …” she whispered out hoarsely.

“Hey, don’t talk, you’re injured!” he told her frantically, his hands going through rusty cabinet after cabinet. Once he found something, he quickly went back to her side. “It’s going to be okay … You’re going to be okay …” he stated softly, as he struggled to open the bottle calmly, without breaking it.

“I … your eyes.”

“They’re like a demon’s, I know, -- AH!” he yelled, finally opening the bottle. “Hey, hey! Drink this here!” he said, trying to tilt her head backwards. He then stopped midway, realizing that was probably a dangerous thing to do. He went back to look for something he can use without making her overdose. He came back and poured the medicine, shakingly on a spoon. “Oi! Look backwards! Tilt it back!” he said in a frustrated tone, his hands shaking up. He helped her back a bit and slowly placed the spoon in her mouth. She made a sour face and then looked a bit relieved. He made a small smile of relief as his father finally came around to see the fuss.

“Wh – who’s that?” he asked him, pointing to the girl. He looked down at her with wide eyes and at her body. “Oh geez … looks like she’s been through a lot … Where’d you find her?”

“Nearby Bathala’s tree. I … I was going home when she came around …”

“and … how is she?” he asked his son.

Romano couldn’t speak. He wasn’t sure, he just hoped in some manner she’d be okay. Yong-soo noticed the look on his face and limped towards her. “Sh – she wasn’t doing too well earlier … I – I dunno how she is now … I – is she …”

“Her breathing is normal … However, we have to let her rest tonight to know if she’s okay for real,” Yong-soo stated in a serious tone. He then smiled at the boy. “If you’d like, you can stay with her. She might need it …” Romano looked down at her and shook his head. Yong-soo sighed and waved him off, clinging to his cane, limping away. “If you say so … go let her rest now, okay? Fetch a blanket for her, will you?”

Romano went into his small bedroom to grab his blanket. Sucked he was going to be cold tonight, but it couldn’t be helped. That stranger needed it more than him. He travelled to her side in a brief moment and placed it over her. She was mumbling something random again, but he paid no mind to it … at least not until she spoke his name.

“Don’t … leave … ro … ma…no …” she stated with blank eyes, before falling deep into sleep.
Based on the Daughter of White/Wiegenlied of Green side of MOTHY-P's stories. Within the tales of Superbia, there was an abstracted melody. Tied together by the fate of destruction, this story is a tale of tragedy and despair between a boy who wished for acceptance and a spirit who wished to understand his grief. RomanoxOC!Philippines.

I ACTUALLY WROTE THIS IN A DAY AND I'M FUCKIN PROUD OF MYSELF. I DON'T CARE, I'M GETTING MY ROMAPIRI FLUFF WHETHER YA'LL LIKE IT OR NOT

nah, but I really wanted to write this for a long time, but I hesitated because I haven't even finished Superbia Chronicles, but you know what? I'M THE MASTER. I CAN DO WHAT I WANT, BEE-YOTCH. /creys buckets)

I'm gonna be honest, in all seriousness, I don't think this was as good as it could be. If it seems a bit rushed, I am a bit sorry. I did my best ;;

His name's supposed to be Lovino, so in the next chapter, I'm changing it to Lovino. I'm too tired right now to edit. ;;

(c) Romano/South Italy by Hidekaz Himaruya
(c) OC!Philippines by me!
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