Zankou

Zankou rarely speaks of the days that came before she joined The Scarlet Letter. To her, such dark times were not worth remembering. It all began with a careless, secret experiment. A solitary, unknown girl was treated as a vessel for cultivating Esper Ability, and the researchers, along with those greedy, gluttonous elites, considered her a worthless sacrifice on the path to greatness. Unbelievable pain, solitude, mutilation, rebirth… these grotesque, repulsive torments were daily occurrences. Time and again, she would inch towards the edge of death, only to be dragged back to the world of the living. Until, in a bitter irony, a miracle truly came to pass: her Esper Ability burst forth, turning that sinful dungeon into an ocean of blood. No one survived but her. A noble, pure-hearted philanthropist was the first to discover her amidst the ruins. She brought that girl back to the gardens, as if transporting a feral wildflower. To her delight, that wildflower, born in the filth and muck, was already tempered completely—exactly to her liking. Thus, the flower known as "Red Nightshade" took root in the soil of Scarlet Letter, and Inanna gained her loyal adopted daughter—her sharpest dagger. Yet, Innana was unaware that the "leash" on her daughter frayed at the edges. Zankou kept quiet about her own Esper Ability, and only opened that uncanny eye of hers from the shadows, hoping to peer into her new family's hearts. Those who tried to bully her, curry favor, or befriend, were merely ignored—and instead swept into a sinking mire, where reality and illusion blurred. They began to doubt what was real or false, slowly transforming into soulless husks—playthings to be puppeteered by Zankou. "Everyone has a flame burning in their heart." To Zankou, people's faces were merely monochrome, but the bright red flames of their souls never ceased to burn. Each person's fire was different—some fierce, some dim, some dark, some crimson… In her eyes, most were utterly mundane; the few that were worth a second glance could only serve as brief playthings. It was only when she watched those flames burn themselves out on the brink of collapse, exhaling flake after flake of hopeless ash, that she showed a hint of delight, as if at last admiring a masterpiece. But in this cold, monotonous world, dotted with countless dreary flickers, there was always one different soul… At first, it was a blinding white; later, it became a hue she had yet to see anywhere else—an indescribable color. "How beautiful… I'm unable to look away."

When it comes to the unknown, human beings have always shared the same curiosity and arrogance. From awe to fear, from scrutinizing to touching, until the spark of "conquest" fully ignited the fuse of greed… such was the attitude some held toward the existence known as "Espers". Cults, circles, private research institutes, secret societies… those driven by greed and pride gathered like hyenas, desperate for a morsel of flesh. They would pay any price, ignore every restriction and taboo, and thirst for the miracles an Esper Ability could bring… or perhaps, for the ability itself. On a remote island, there was a secret society deemed "Eyepecker." Its members believed in a heresy: Esper Abilities were a gift from a mysterious unknown, and that gift would bless the fortunate ones born with special "eyes". They went about collecting those who were described as such, regarding them as "vessels" for the awakening of Esper Abilities, imprisoning them in dark, dank dungeons and burning their eyes every day with a searing mixture. They firmly believed this would awaken abilities—and that by transplanting those eyes into themselves, they could seize that power for their own. Zankou's earliest memory began in that cruel jail. The girl had a pair of gem-like eyes. She could not understand why, her vision deprived of color, she could only see a gray-white blur. What she understood even less was how far a human's greed could push them to do the unspeakable. Ever since Eyepecker had abducted her, the meaning of her existence had been reduced to being completely bound every day, having her eyelids pried open, and trembling as the scalding, acrid, murky liquid dripped onto her eyeballs. The voracious, intoxicated by their own delusions, carried out their devilish deeds day after day, heedless of its absurdity. Yet, ironically, Zankou really did awaken the Esper Ability dwelling in her eyes under that inhuman torture. When she was brought to the eye-extraction ritual, the society's members were already arguing over who the eyes would belong to, each one revealing the hidden identity they had been concealing all along: the powerful, the wealthy, or some illustrious family… Their voices grew into a raucous uproar, and in the haze of anesthesia, Zankou saw the first color beyond black and white. It was warm and blinding, burning brightly among the embers of countless souls, spraying from wounds opened in slaughter, weaving into a scarlet maelstrom that encircled her… That day, the Eye of Delusion shrouded the entire island, and the lowlifes who competed with one another instead butchered each other to death, drowning within the hallucination, until no one was left alive.

Zankou saw a shockingly pleasing red in the pool of blood. The owner such red strut towards her, her high heels echoing throughout the empty dungeon's walls. Then the clacking stopped, giving way to velveteen words: "Let me see your face, my poor little petal. From today on, Scarlet Letter is your home." Home… what was that? The woman before her promised the girl something she couldn't comprehend: a "home." Though the girl couldn't understand the meaning of the woman's words, she could feel that her voice and touch were gentler than anything she had ever experienced. "You may call me… Mother." Zankou looked warily at the tall, thin woman before her. Beneath her gentle gaze lurked an indecipherable smile. The blaze of her soul was as vermilion and resplendent as the clothes she wore, and its greedy flames danced and flared before the girl's eyes, almost burning her alive. Yet, she still willingly replied with one word only: "Mother."

The Scarlet Letter Garden nurtured many flowers. The loving Inanna tended to them, raining down sweet dew and pruning their branches. The flowers that pleased her most were even granted new names—"Red Nightshade" was one of the many. Yet, Zankou knew that Mother did not love her flowers; she simply enjoyed standing at the center of the garden and admiring her hard work. Within the Scarlet Letter's estate walls, Inanna no longer needed to hide her true nature. The generous, sentimental philanthropist was merely a public performance. In the confines of her heart, there was only a businesswoman's austere coldness and greed, along with the arrogance that developed unceasingly once she had entered "high society". Like a towering crimson spire, she cast a chilling shadow, looming endlessly over her Garden. She always mixed rewards with punishment when dealing with her daughters. Zankou was subjected to the harshest training. Zankou didn't care; her time in the dungeon had long since numbed her to pain. Even after enduring such torment at the hands of Mother, Zankou still dedicated complete loyalty to her, and carried out every task she was given. As she watched her other sisters have their emotions and fates toyed with, however, Zankou found that she, too, could find a little amusement in the Garden. The Eye of Delusion could perceive emotions—and taste them, too. The rotten sweetness of fear, the bitterness of despair, and the sharp bite of hatred… her fellow flowers' feelings became nourishment for Zankou… And Zankou came to fully understand Mother's hobby. Her aberrant eye was always on the prowl for vivid colors, as if admiring a field for its beautiful blooms, only to pluck the finest flowers. Whenever a lovely sobbing rang out through the estate at night, and the tiny glows of the soul twinkled, Zankou would gladly bring comfort to that fragile bud, then later control it, toy with it, to then ultimately cast it aside. Under her words and gaze, those unsettled little buds bloomed. Such pleasure never lasted long. The girls' minds were rapidly frayed from gazing into the Eye of Delusion, becoming husks at Zankou's mercy, and the color of their souls faded, withering and unwatered. It never mattered, though. The Scarlet Letter's Garden was vast; even if one blossom withered, there would always be another waiting to sprout.

Among all her sisters, only one made Zankou limit her abilities when they locked eyes. Her soul was a pure, translucent flame, as clear as the first light of dawn. As if beholding a wondrous sight, she blurted out at their very first meeting… "What a beautiful color…" But the white-clad girl named Daffodill didn't understand. She simply obeyed her adoptive mother's orders, walked to the car door, bowed, and reached out to welcome her new little sister. "Welcome home, little sister." Zankou reached out toward her, obsession and curiosity gathering in her eyes. Unknowingly, a feral smile nearly surfaced on the girl's face. As if snatching something away, she suddenly clutched that girl's hand tightly, pulling her closer, as if wanting to bathe herself in that hallowed flame… After that unconventional greeting, they were eventually ordered to become partners, sisters—family. Zankou knew she and her sister were not the same, but so what? Two complete opposites—conjoined in their fate. In the Scarlet Letter Garden, countless vines would wind around and bind them, till death did them part. They would step into the same mire, share the same flower bed, walk onto the same battlefield, and return to the same grave. They were as close as family could be. Day after day, she watched Daffodill through her "special" eye. As the first daughter adopted by Inanna, Daffodill was steadfast and immovable, rigid—no matter how harsh the mission, she would always surpass Mother's expectations. When it came to eliminating a target, she was even unfeeling… Yet that very same sister would tenderly heal her wounds after every mission or punishment. …But later, for some undiscernable reason, Daffodill changed. That decisiveness and indifference became hesitation, along with growing melancholy and confusion. From then on, that white, steady flame would occasionally flutter. "So she has a side like that too, then." Zankou continued to observe Daffodill, as though watching a bud begin to blossom. If her sister became weak, before Mother destroyed and discarded her, she would transform her into her most prized possession. With a heavy heart, Zankou looked forward to that day.

"…There's a rabbit in the corner of the backyard." "I fed it some cabbage leaves. It ate them all, and it didn't bite me…" Zankou listened to Daffodill speak, smiling, while her thoughts strangled her heart. She didn't understand what was so appealing about a rabbit—it was just a gray vermin with red eyes. Nor did she understand how a mere rabbit could make her sister look that… happy. But for the next few months, whenever it was time to go to the backyard for punishment, Daffodill would sneak glances at that rabbit, and Zankou would watch her. Even while enduring such unimaginable pain, her sister's gaze would soften considerably, directed towards that one corner of the garden. Sometimes, Zankou considered that, perhaps, such a gentle look was not something Mother would allow to appear in her eyes. One day, Daffodill found only the rabbit's corpse in that familiar corner. She remained silent for the rest of the day. Before night had even fallen, she locked herself in her room. Zankou knocked for a long while before the door finally opened. Her sister's hollow gaze hung low over the floor, her soul flickering wildly. Zankou caught a trace of bitterness in her sister's expression, something she had never seen before. She tentatively reached out and slowly drew her sister closer. She felt Daffodill hesitate for a moment, then, as if shedding all her burdens at once, leaned her face against her shoulder without resistance. When their warmth met, Zankou sighed. Deep down, she was relieved that the rabbit had died. "She might, perhaps, suspect that I was the one who did it." On many nights after her sister fled, Zankou often thought of that dead rabbit. But Daffodill never brought the matter up again. Zankou never felt regret. She knew that the end of their road could only end in one way: death. When either one of them reached their final moments, using their final breath as a farewell might not… be so bad. "Sister, I really didn't kill that rabbit."

Zankou and Daffodill were once Scarlet Letter's sharpest daggers. The sins that stained them were as dark as the hollowness in their heart. Trial after trial, mission after mission, they enacted Mother's bidding. Zankou didn't care for her life as a blade; rather, she only desired to watch Daffodill. As an assassin, she knew of every obstacle Mother needed removed. But as a person, she knew only Daffodill Daffodill always stood before the mirror after finishing a mission, contemplating in silence as she bandaged her wounds. And every time, Zankou would quietly savor that weary, melancholic back—beautiful even when riddled with scars—and, as always, use her Esper Ability and a tender hug to dispel her sister's doubts. Finally, those doubts bore fruit. On one mission, when it was time to bring the blade down on a target, Daffodill listened to the target's pleas for mercy—and stilled her hand. Zankou witnessed her hand trembling, yet also noticed the bloodthirstiness shrouded in those cries for mercy. At that moment, a treacherous idea took root in her mind. In the blink of an eye, the cold gleam of a hidden weapon flashed toward her sister. Zankou deliberately stepped in front of the blade, taking the blow. In this moment, Zankou also struck back against the assailant, killing them. Blood poured from her wound—pain she would willingly endure. Breathing hard, Zankou gazed upwards. She saw Daffodill's trembling hand loosen around the knife, and heard hurried footsteps and an apology laden with fright. "At last, you've become as weak as they are." Zankou watched, enraptured by the violently wavering flame before her. She had imagined it countless times: no longer restraining her Esper Ability, Zankou using her eyes to see through everything, then pulling her into an illusion meant only for the two of them. Twisting her likes and dislikes, manipulating her memories—until, before she could completely devolve into a sentimental, uninteresting commoner, she would become Zankou's plaything. However, in those final moments, Zankou had relented. Even softened and shaken, that white flame still fascinated her. She no longer desired to snuff it out.

Zankou could recall when her sister changed, and how trusting, careless, and foolish she had been before. It was at one of Inanna's auction events. Daffodill, who was in charge of security, had acted out of turn and returned after a brief disappearance looking a bit haggard. She covered her left eye and brushed the whole incident off, referring to it as an "accident." Seeing her sister's face wounded to such an extent caused Zankou to fly into a rage, so much so that in the next few missions, her methods were far more brutal than usual. For months after, Daffodill wore an eye patch. To comfort her sister, Zankou even had one made for herself—completely useless, of course—and when she took it out to show off, her sister could only respond with a startled laugh. Zankou never once wondered what exactly that eye patch of Daffodill's was hiding. On one rainy night, she witnessed Inanna lying in a pool of blood, and Daffodill—the Esper who had taken off her eye patch and was holding a blade. Mother's blood had stained her sister's collar a glaring crimson. And that flame… that pure white flame was entirely extinguished. It had become something utterly unlike anything before, unlike anyone else—a color of sublime purity Zankou had never perceived in her life. Zankou attempted to make sense of the chaos before her. Too many questions crashed together in her mind. She didn't understand why her sister had betrayed them, didn't understand where her sister's Esper Ability had come from, and didn't understand what that odd flame even meant. As for Daffodill… she merely stood there, unmoving, like a child frozen in fear, strangled by shame. Her sister fled in silence, that streak of light vanishing beyond the hedges of the Scarlet Letter Garden. Zankou struggled to call out for her, their mother still lying off to the wayside, forgotten in a pool of blood. All Zankou's thoughts—and her gaze—incessantly followed her sister's departing figure. An unknown amount of time had passed before she finally uttered a few words, those same words she had said to her sister countless times before: "What a beautiful color…"

Mother survived Daffodill's attempt on her life. She woke, recovered from her injuries, and maintained her usual image as if nothing had occurred. Zankou was unsurprised. Daffodill had mastered the art of assassination, but someone like Mother was not to be trifled with. She still performed her role as that poised, luxurious philanthropist—as if entirely unphased by Daffodill's betrayal. Zankou could see the subtle change, however. In the past, Mother's emotions had always been stable and cold, even going so far as to be utterly arrogant. Following the assassination attempt, though, she became distrustful, constantly carrying the unease often found in those in positions of power… The scarlet tower in her memory had already collapsed, but Zankou no longer cared about such frivolous things. Right now, her only desire was to drag that woman who had slipped through her fingers back by the neck… Mother brought another "Little Sister" back home, eventually. She had begun to favor the children whose vulnerability made her feel powerful in turn—and the girl named Poinsette was one of them. At first, Zankou only considered her another flower among the field. Unexpectedly, though, she discovered an interesting side to the newly introduced bud. Precocious and gifted, that little bud wouldn't let Mother's favoritism or torment transform her into a wilting flower. Instead, she became a resilient weed, seeking any way of escape from Scarlet Letter's garden. Seeing through her act, Zankou became even more curious and took the initiative to entice Mother into promoting Poinsette, so that she would serve at Inanna's side from then on. That little bud, now a weed, noticed Zankou's intentions, and could only obediently play along… Though the song and dance between the two amused Zankou for a while, it couldn't fill the void left by Daffodill's absence. Zankou never encountered anyone whose soul could compare to hers, and thus her longing grew day by day… At last, after a long and thorough investigation, she caught wind of Daffodil's trail—a rundown antique shop in Hethereau, a shanty utterly unfit for her. Fortunately, Inanna's next target was also in Hethereau, so Zankou gladly undertook the mission and went to investigate. Daily, she disguised herself as various passersby, passing by Eibon's door countless times, until she had finally come upon the face she had waited so long to see. Suppressing a smile, she slipped into a dark alley, pressed a hand to her chest, and felt her heartbeat pounding wildly like a drum. "This time, you'll never escape from me again, Sister."