Words: 1347 Not as much as others but I wanted to keep mine to a simple scenario
Anime: I based the storyline from Trinity 7 but changed up some things. Such as the MC's personality. Character Names are also different.
Letting you go was my first mistake, the 2nd was thinking if I surrounded myself with others the pain would go away. I can put up my act for a little longer but my mask is about to break.
The walls that separate us, I think to myself about the worlds that decided to break us apart. I’m going to get you Touka and go back to our world where I can find peace by just living with you.
I see Touka, she’s smiling looking at me, her yellow eyes staring at me while she is mouthing something trying to tell me something. For a second she’s here but then it’s dark. Nothing is here, all I can see is darkness, and I feel myself heavily falling down as if I’m in water. I’m drowning my arms up high trying to swim in a waterless pit. I cry out as I see a body, it floats closer so I tried to get a glimpse, and my heart starts pumping as I see only one little detail… Yellow Eyes.
I gasped breathing hard trying to catch my breath after having to gone through that nightmare, I felt as if I had drowned in my sleep, that I couldn’t breathe. I knew it was just a dream but the pain felt realistic as if I had been chocking on air.
With the thought still in my head I decide I need to take a breath outside so I slowly went and got out of my bed and go out for a walk in the Beach. I quickly checked my key on my neck and went out the door.
Walking through the halls I knew that Yachiyo would try to follow me if she saw me so I decided to be quiet. I looked through the Classroom glasses while I walked down the halls to see if anyone else is up. When I finally reached down the hall I opened the door to see outside.
My face takes a blast of wind, such a refreshing feeling. Its Midnight, the starless sky night stares at me as if I’m being taken away. I stand there frozen still thinking about the nightmare.
I walked to the Beach, humming while letting my thoughts take over. When I reached the ocean I noticed a sea turtle. It was struggling to get to the Ocean. I picked it up and moved it closer to the Water as an extra boost.
I gave it a little wave as I said goodbye, I then started to walk a little more before I headed back.
I decide to stop at the beach house so I can rest my back. In the background I hear the wave’s splash as the moon finishes off the scenery. I stare at the ocean as I think about her more and more until I hear a noise. I slowly get a look to where the noise came from I thought it was an animal so I went out to see it, only to have my eyes deceive me.
I laugh a little as everything felt like a dream
“I might be going a little crazy”
She looked at me eye to eye, I see the one I’ve been waiting to see. Touka looks at me standing behind the bar, my thoughts go wild as she simply comes closer a step at a time. I think to myself
Is she real
Am I dreaming?
Did I finally go crazy?
Not even a step away, I grab her for a hug and held onto her tight, I held on for so long making sure she wouldn’t disappear. “I don’t want to ever let you go” I cry out. She brings her head up to look at me with tears in her eyes and with a gentle voice says “It’ll be over soon, soon we can be together again” I look at her scared of wanting to let go. My heart beats faster and faster as I look into her eyes with intent, my body starts to move on its own. She closes her to keep the moment burned into her memories as I lean in for a kiss only lasting for a few seconds. My body burns hot telling me I want more, telling me I don’t want her to go.
“Please don’t leave” I begged. “Let’s run away together, we can go far, I’ll go against the world with you.” She looks at me with a smile and says “You know we can’t do that so easily”
I broke into tears desperately wanting her to stay with me. I’m trying so hard to escape reality, trying so hard to not let it sink in. I was never ready for the day you’d leave me. But putting on a bold front I decided to let her go for now.
“When this is over let’s go back to the city” I quietly say
“Where we can have children and live together for the rest of our lives” she mumbles
“Where I can protect you” I laughed
“And where I can protect you” She chuckles
Touka grabs my hand as we exit out of the beach house to walk on the sand. I took off my shoes and carry them in my right hand with her hand holding my left. I felt my heart beat faster as my cheeks feel fuzzy. We walk down the beach not saying a word just letting our emotions run wild. We come to a stop as I see a rocky hill where I do most of my thinking. Without hesitation I decided to take her there, running and dashing over there as we laughed and laughed letting all of our depression be taken away with happiness.
I laid down on the hill with her right next to me as we laugh like we used to when we were children. My face wears down as I start to think how long I have until this happiness fades away. She cries her tears knowing what's on my mind. Trying to get rid of the depression she tries to put her hand on my cheek trying to tell me it’s alright.
I want to cry but I’ll laugh, I want to run but I’ll stay, I want to pretend everything is alright so I will.
She’s coming home soon so I will wait to say Welcome home until then I’ll put up this mask as she will do the same.
She looks at me with a sad expression “Kazama, I have to go soon” I look depressed but I already knew this couldn’t last forever. If I can’t be with her forever yet, I’ll just have to make sure I can make a promise that will last forever. I got up and looked at her in the eyes and said the words I’ve longed to say.
“Touka, we can’t be together yet. The time will come, until then let’s make one more promise."
She looks at me confused.
“When this is over…Let’s go home and eat breakfast, then talk about the things we’ve done. Nothing more and nothing less but just a normal meal”
She nods with a tear rolling down her face smiling as leans in for a kiss. We held on to each other for as long as we could until it was time to say goodbye.
She looks at a watch waiting for a specific time. It then beeps confirming she had to go back, she looks at me and gives me one last hug and whispers the 3 words I've longed I look at her to say something but before I could return the feelings a dark shadow surrounded her indicating that she had to leave.
With a smile I whisper something as she fades away, giving myself a little hope. I’ll wait for the years the will come when I get you back. This time I won’t ever let you go. Everything became dark as my eyes started to close, with the thought still in my head, I smiled as a tear finds its way to my cheek.
It's been too long.
Help Jibril Become The Avenging Angel For Those Who Have Fallen! Vote Jibril...
Title: Kat Island
I couldn't think of any suitable anime characters, so I chose to just set it in Japan. I hope that's okay!
Everyone was fascinated by what came to be known as the Tsuku house. We were an uncreative community, I guess. Or maybe we couldn’t disassociate the building, with it’s six foot high concrete walls and unmoving bamboo trees raised to the sky, from the cult of personality that was its owner.
Not that he commanded an exhibitionist personality. His stature and fortune were made outside of town, but he came here after his third divorce and kept to his home, four kilometres out in the forest. Within a year, the house was built. It was quite an occasion, depressing and lonesome and vapid as that might seem. Because no one comes here. Kat Island Village is for the unemployed and the underpaid. The desperate and the apathetic. It had a boom as a retirement spot before I was born, until twenty years in when all the people who came to retire had died and it suddenly, shockingly lost its appeal. As if old people could escape death a little longer by living in the city.
Death is our one universal constant, the one invisible, fleetingly perceivable bond we all share. It doesn’t matter if you die on a road in Osaka, a hospital bed in Tokyo or twenty feet from the salt on Kat Island. Everyone dies.
My sister killed herself four weeks after the Tsuku house was finished being built. I say ‘killed herself’ to make a point. Because she killed herself. Death by suicide, to be technical and weary about it. The police, on the other hand, called it ‘death by accidental drowning’. They said it was sad and tragic and untimely and every other word dredged up in a bid to mask just how indescribable the death of a child is. But concerning? Suspicious? Worthy of investigation?
No. Just sad and tragic and untimely.
Her name was Aoi. Mine, is Yuma. When you grow up by the sea, you become numb to it. Less a roaring, rushing, crushing body of water and instead, merely intangible. You could never call it friendly, but it becomes more ordinary. Dull, even. Cloudy days see the ocean take on a pale grey and even the rolling of the waves seem muted. Dad was a commercial fisherman before the trade dried up and he replaced sailing with drinking, I’d think in a chirpy, guileless way ‘Dad lives from the sea. How could it ever hurt us?’
Aoi, on the other hand, hated the sea. The one time she went out on Dad’s boat, she cried for half an hour before he had to turn around and come back. She’d always stand a few feet back from the cliff guard rails, clutching her tiny key necklace so tight the wind couldn’t budge the chain. The call of ‘Let’s go swimming at the beach!’ became a trigger phase. And yet, that was how she died. With purpose and intent, she threw herself into the sea.
Maybe I’m being disingenuous here, because the sea she died in wasn’t much like the sea you’re picturing in your head right now. In fact, it wasn’t much of a sea at all. It was… A crater. It formed upon the surface of the ocean. A pure covering, as if the reflection of a painted black moon. The waves around it began to bend inside of it. Yet once they’d passed the rim, they vanished.
And then, clink. Clink. Clink. Clink. The sound of Aoi’s necklace tapping against the railing as she climbed. It was a steady, determined beat. Clink. Clink. She arrived at the top. The arches of her feet balanced on the railing. Her arms outstretched. The wind delicately moved her hair. The ocean had stopped roaring. The gusts had stopped whispering. And Aoi began to fall forward. I screamed her name with such fear and ferocity I thought I’d scrape my vocal folds out, but I couldn’t hear myself. I lunged at her, but I was too slow. Falling, slow as a feather, Aoi glided down to the ocean and into the crater. But it was there she stopped, right on the surface, before the waves seemed to penetrate. They slowly seeped over the black spot, running over my sister’s back, the dark blue tendrils smothering her. Eventually, waves flowed over, and the ocean swallowed her.
I only remember the sound of the world returning, because I laid there for hours screaming her name until I could only gasp and taste blood at the back of my throat. My face was coated damp with tears when someone found me. We found out the next morning that Aoi’s body had been found brushed up against some rocks, lungs flooded with salt water.
The investigation was expedient to the point of brazen. I was too young to give reliable testimony even when I chose to talk. My mom told the police to leave when a young officer casually asked ‘You didn’t push her, did you? As a joke?’. They didn’t come back.
Then, within a month, it was ‘death by drowning’.
I never had friends, because I had Aoi. She was pulling double duty, I guess. We were born within a year of each other. When we were little, it seemed like glorious fatalism. When we were older, we realised our parents were just uncontrollably impatient. For two people destined to live in the same small set of rooms for 18 years, we got on well. The notion that, even if it was because we were trapped together, there was always someone to talk to and look up to and cry with when things were hard was insulating. But she gave up on me and hid until it was too late.
I would live in my room after school. I ate there, studied there, cried there. My parents did the same. My mom locked Aoi’s room and, lying badly with a cracking voice, said she lost the key. No one was interested in going in anyway. Then, we all dissipated into our respective worlds within the house. My mother in the front room, father in the living room, myself in my room. It was as if we all lived in different dimensions and were merely passing by one another, sharing glances and snippets of thought.
The vision of the crater became a trauma memory, the doctor austerely told me. It never happened, I simply made up something more outlandish and exciting to cope with reality. If only reality were so easy to cope with. I came to believe her though. I had nothing else to believe in at the time, and the reality everyone told me to trust was softer, more palatable than the alternative. Her death was an accident, they’d say. I knew they were wrong, but eventually I stopped arguing. Dead is dead.
Being a small place, it was a community tragedy. And suddenly, Mr. Tsuku sought to be involved in that community. He came down to the local storefronts to buy local produce, walk the beach outside of town. Not just once, but twice, three times a week. He came down with his wife, twenty years younger at least, who alternated between underdress and overdress with little regards to her expanding pregnancy. He was tall and charismatic. His hair was grey straw and slicked back, his face was a dry clay colour, but his mouth seemed to always be upturned in a smile. He talked at length with local people in his crepitated, eloquent baritone. The celebrity mystery became a celebrity solution and he was embraced quickly, warmly.
‘I met Mr. Tsuku today at the fishmarket.’ Dad announced, unearned triumph tickling his voice, on an inexorably humid summer day. ‘I told him about, uh, your sister, Yuma. He was awful sorry and seemed genuinely upset. I think he’s a good guy, y’know?’
The first fight my parents had since Aoi died was about making a trip to the Tsuku house. For dinner, dad said with conviction. Mom barked back, you haven’t had dinner with your actual family in months. Dad gave her no response. He just left.
He went to the Tsuke house for dinner a dozen more times. Eventually, he started going with other people from the town. I heard him on the phone with some of them, late at night. He sounded happy. I couldn’t be angry at him, just jealous and bitter. There wasn’t a night I didn’t lose out on sleep thinking of Aoi, as he sat there on the phone with the happiness bleeding through his voice, a scratching sound that made me involuntarily curl up. Like the way a necklace clinks against a steel railing.
Late one afternoon, he came home, thick voiced and clumsy. He told me to stay in my room, said he had to speak to mom about something important. There was a thunk, then a smash. I heard the front door swing open, then slam shut. Five minutes later, my mom came into my room. Her lip bled, her eye crumbled. She sat on the edge of my bed and told me I had to leave. Her sister in Nagoya was going to take me in. To get away from the past year, to clear my head. She told me how dad had beaten her. Not the first time
I asked her if he’d hurt Aoi before she died. My mom slipped into tears. I closed my eyes and let her stop of her own accord, before together we packed my things silently.
I hugged her and told her I loved her and how much I’d miss her until I came back. I felt her shaking on my shoulder as I said it. She gave me a sealed envelope and told me not to open it in the house. She couldn’t bear what was inside, she mumbled.
In two hours, I was on the boat, leaving Kat Island. The throbbing orange sun hung above me, fat and stubborn and petulant. My aunt called me on my cellphone, asking if I was alright, haranguing that everything would be okay. I just mmm’ed and lied that I believed her. My brain felt battered, hazy and glazed. I didn’t feel safe out on the ocean, but then I didn’t think I’d feel safe on land either. The entirety of my insides screamed at me to cry, but my shell refused to emote.
My hands found my pockets and I brushed the envelope my mom had given me. I absentmindedly opened it and out rolled a necklace with a small silver key. Without thinking about it, I wrapped it around my palm and pressed it against my forehead, and stayed that way as the engines chewed the water, their drone overtaking and shrouding me for God knows how long. Then, I unfurled it around my fingers until it dangled and I let it slide away, falling, gliding, into the ocean. My body burst apart as I cried all the way to the mainland.
The last time I heard from my mother was on the phone six years ago. She sounded quiet, monotone. I told her everything was okay and how great the city was. I asked when she was coming out. Her voice wavered as she told me ‘Soon, I promise. Soon.’
My mom disappeared a day later. I heard it from the police, who told me my father had fled the island. We had the funeral in Nagoya for the ease of the rest of the family. It felt like more than burying my mother. It felt like burying the island, burying my childhood. And burying Aoi again. The deaths in our past refuse to die in the present.
It was all gone, the good and the bad. The warm and the cold, the hard ground and the black of the ocean. All that’s left is me. Alone. But alive.
That’s gotta count for something, right?
“So it’s tomorrow then?” I asked him as we both sat under a tree smoking.
“Yeah, I’m sorry.”
We sat there for a while, neither of us knowing what to say. We only had one more day for this kinda thing, just a relaxing do-nothing-day where all we had was each other and no one would bother us for hours.
I clenched his hand tightly, not wanting to let go of it. It wasn’t fair that the two of us would be ripped apart in such a horrible way. His draft had come up and he was going to be gone tomorrow, “Do you really have to do it? Is there no way out of it?”
He squeezed my hand back and when I looked at him there were the beginnings of tears. We embraced and I could feel our two bodies coming together, if only for that moment, the warmth was almost suffocating and yet, at that moment I didn’t want to be anywhere else but in his arms, “You know that I don’t want to go through with this either, but the draft is law. If I don’t go, they’ll come after me anyways, and you don’t deserve that kind of life. You deserve to keep living.”
“You say that like you’re not coming back Itami,” the thought alone almost caused me to choke, “But you will come back, you’ll come back from this stronger than ever. You have to come back to me.”
He smiled, that sort of smile where the warmth and light never quite reaches your eyes and so it is even more apparent that you’re lying. He stood up and stubbed out his cigarette on the tree stump, “You’re right, I will come back and when I do, I will never leave your side again.”
He was gone for ten years before I saw him again.
The world had changed in the years since the Draft. The town that we had been raised in, once so alive and bustling with activity and people, was a shadow of its former self. The young ones, my age and the generation after, had all left, the jobs had dried up and the place slowly fell into disrepair. I had went to university for a while, pursued my doctorate, but when my mother caught leukaemia I was forced to put that on hold.
It seems now, that despite all this hardship, I was happy. My mother was recovering and while the town was dying, the land around it seemed more alive than ever before. Perhaps this was how things were meant to be. Peacefully lonely.
Life changes quickly though, I found one night, as I heard a loud crashing outside of my door. Opening the door slowly, I nearly fainted at the sight of my old lover lying at my doorstep. He hadn’t shaved for a while, a patchy stubble had formed, he had lost all the weight and muscle from his draft preparation and his hair had fallen out in patches, but I recognized him none the less. He was back, just like he said he would be and I almost cried right then and there.
He was barely conscious and I helped him into my home, he was surprisingly light, as if he hadn’t eaten for days. Placing him gently on the couch, I fetched a cup of warm wine and a blanket from my own bed. He had a slight fever and vomited more than once before I could get him to keep some of the wine down. His eyes were half shut, one from exhaustion and the other from a black eye and bruises that stained most of his right side of his face. There were traces of blood on his face from the numerous cuts and I dabbed at them gently with a cloth.
“Itami…” I couldn’t stop the tears as I laid my head on his chest, which was finally breathing normally. We just stayed like that, I stayed as long as I could because it felt like if I moved, even for one moment, he would be gone again and I would be alone.
The next few days gave me almost no time to myself as I was busy taking care of two sick people. My mother’s treatment was easy enough, since the doctors had said that she had responded well to the Chemo treatment. Rest and good food were my job and so I prepared her a light breakfast of hot cereal and diced fruit.
Itami’s treatment was a little more difficult. I couldn’t take him to the doctor’s clinic in town due to the nature of his appearance and so I spent most of my time with him. I had managed to procure an IV drip for his nutritional needs, as well as some bottled water that the clinic gave me for my mother. He didn’t wake up though, it was almost as if he was so tired at that point, that his body had almost given up. I decided that if he hadn’t woken up by the end of the week I would chance the doctor and hope I had enough to bribe him not to say anything.
Itami didn’t wake up and now it was the final day of the week. As I watched the slow IV drip administer what supplements and aid he needed, my eyes watered, a mixture of exhaustion and emotion and like the first night, I rested my head on his chest.
I could feel his heartbeat and hear the slow rasps of breath he took, “Itami,” I began, “It’s been too long you know. I waited for a long time before I left the town, even stayed for a year after I finished school. We were sixteen when you left me, but it wasn’t a highschool fling that we had. I’ve stayed for you, I haven’t dated, and I haven’t fooled around, even those 7 years of university. I waited.”
For a moment, it was as if he was awake, as his hand moved to mine and clenched it tightly, so much that it was painful, but I held it anyways, it was contact that we hadn’t had in years, but before long it had let go once again.
I spoke again and I knew I was crying., his shirt, a size too large soaked up the tears and I could smell the slight bit of salt remaining in them, “I loved you, no I still love you and I’m so glad you finally came back to me. I was scared, terrified that we would be separated forever by your goddamn draft, but we’re here again. We’re going to make you strong again and we’ll live here and they’ll never come for you. We’ll stay here as we get older and our love will never wane. I know this, I know that we’ll be together forever now that you’re back. I’m so happy you’re back Itami, now please, please wake up.”
It is getting late now and I have to get some more groceries before the shops close. I stand up and I kiss his forehead before shutting off the lights and leaving the house. It doesn’t take long for me to get the food and medicine I need and I begin to head back to the house, ignoring the stares of Enforcement, looking at a woman who is outside for too late for her own good. I find myself rushing to the door.
I open my door and a stench overtakes me. It smells wet and metallic. The lights are out and I flick the switch a few times before giving up and striking a match from the book in my pocket. The faint light reveals that there is no longer anyone sleeping on the couch. I want to panic and shout out to him, but Enforcement could be around so I restrain myself.
“Itami?” I slightly question the darkness in front of me, hoping to elicit some sort of response, but nothing happens.
I can hear the sink dripping and that confuses me because we haven’t used the water in a few days due to a toxin scare from the next town. I feel my way into the kitchen and run my hand over the faucet and despite still hearing the steady drip of spilling liquid, the sink is dry.
“Mom?” there’s still no response and I’m starting to get really nervous because while it is getting late, she was usually still awake, waiting for an evening snack of some sort.
I light another match and use it to guide me to my mother’s room. The metallic, damp stink was getting worse as I futilely try her light switch. I trip over something and start crawling to her bed. My hands are drenched in liquid and I know what it is but I don’t want to believe. My hands reach hers and her body is already colder than it should be. My hands reach her face and half of it is missing. Her jaw is completely gone and when my eyes finally adjust, I look at my mother and I can see that her eyes have burst vessels and I know that she was awake and aware when this happened.
I fall backwards into the sticky mess and I grasp blindly at anything. I feel my mother’s hand and I hold it tightly before realising that my mother is still on the bed and the arm is by the desk. I am unable to contain myself anymore and I scream and sob loudly.
I stand up quickly and I can feel the weight of my mother’s blood soaked into my clothes and I retch once before staying myself. I brace myself against the wall and leave a long smear of gore and blood on it. My head feels light, none of this feels real and there’s a voice in my head screaming for me to run.
I take a few tentative steps back into the main room where I look frantically for the way out. I hear the smashing of something, like a dropped glass and I freeze, listening for anything, but I can’t hear it over my gasping breaths. I see a light, faint from the other side of the house and I see hollow eyes behind the small flame and a crooked smile that doesn’t reach them.
The lamp falls to the floor and wood easily catching on fire. He walks towards me and I am paralyzed, trapped in this spot helpless as his fingers work their way around my neck and compress slowly but with one purpose. To take the life out of me. The flames around us grow higher and for a moment he almost looks like a demon to me. I can see now, that Itami is dead.
The voice is a rasp and it doesn’t even sound like him anymore, “Save me, save me, save me…” and it just goes on and on again, louder and louder. I can feel the life being squeezed out of me and I’m crying because it is all I can do at this point. I can see, barely that he is crying too and I don’t know why he’s crying, it’s the end of everything and how was this happening and-
The escaped target was found in a village five hours away. At current time of writing, he had been out of the facility for almost three full days. The project has been terminated, the subject erased and the village cleansed.
Name of Story: Cried Residuum
Word Count: 1950
Your effort to remain what you are is what limits you
From what I understand art is its own category for this, but if I were to choose one I would say adventure. Come on first!
Done with microns, prismacolor, and pencil
Stay positive, test negative.
It's been too long.
Stay positive, test negative.
That Day that Never Came
"Come here! Arima? Hey, over here!", shouted a voice. Arima glanced up and saw Kaori standing there. She was wearing her same pink dress that she always wore. "Are you asleep?", she asked. "Well, no. I'm not.", he replied.
They walked together, side by side until they reached the park. "Today's lovely right?", Kaori said. "It sure is.", Arima replied.
"Ooh! A cat!", said Kaori. She ran after it. Arima's eyed shuddered and turned blank. "Chelsea!!?" He thought that she died already but, he snapped out of it and decided to catch up to Kaori. She stood there, holding the cat in her arms. "Look! A cat! Isn't it cute? Here! You hold it!" She gave it to Arima quickly.
"It is kinda cute, I guess.", said Arima. The cat then quickly scratched Arima and hopped out of his arms.
"Look what you did!", said Kaori. She ran after the cat again. Arima chased Kaori who chased the cat.
The cat dashed onto the streets where a truck was coming. Kaori almost stepped onto the street but suddenly, Arima grabbed her arm. She stopped.
Then, the truck struck the cat.
Tears streamed down Kaori's face. "No!", she screamed. Arima stood blankly again, but eventually came to his senses. He said to Kaori,"one day, everyone will disappear right? It's part of mother nature." "You're right", she responded. She rubbed her face with her sleeve and grabbed Arima's hand. "Let's go to my home."
"What??!", he said blushing. She dashed to the bakery while dragging Arima.
Kaori leaned up into Arima's ear and whispered, "thank you...for saving my life."
After those words, his memories flashed before him. His mother, Chelsea, and Kaori all appeared before him. They said, "sorry, but we have to go now."
"Wait!!!" Arima screamed. Tears ran down his face and he screamed wait softer and softer, until the fell to his knees.
One by one, they faded into cherry blossom petals.
"Why? Why do they have to disappear?"
Suddenly, he jolted up on his bed. "Thank goodness it was all a dream." He grabbed the photo frame that was sitting on his desk and smiled. "I wish I've could've spend more time with you. Thank you, Kaori."
Sorry if this was really short! The category is Tear-Jerking, Sad Story, the anime is Your Lie in April (Shigatsu wa Kimi no Uso), and there are 330 words.
I spent a little bit (a lot actually lol) of the past two weeks in Paint drawing this. Wasn't too confident at times, but i felt i captured the summer theme pretty well with it. Hopefully this moe Nico goes over well!
Did he just walk up...slowly...and ban me? @GoldTStar117
I had a hard time deciding whether to use an image or write a story.
Unfortunately I'm not great at both, but here you go rofl.
ＴＨＥ ＬＡＳＴ ＷＯＲＤＳ ＯＦ ＳＨＩＲＬＥＹ ＦＥＮＥＴＴＥ
:: ＷＲＩＴＴＥＮ .// .ＴＯＵＣＨＩＮＧ ＴＥＡＲ - ＪＥＲＫＥＲ ＳＡＤ ＳＴＯＲＹ. // .２０６ ＷＯＲＤＳ
.......The noise of the commotion awoke me -- a thong of chaotic memories inside me. I opened my eyes and rose despite the pain that's pounding my cranium. The world seemed to lost its balance, its essence. I felt a strong force beside me -- a sign of life slowly escaping from the core of its body. Behind a semi-transparent blue plastic curtain, I listened to the sound of air entering and leaving its body, persuading, like a soul thriving to live. It was heavy, slow, almost lifeless. Curious, I abandoned my bed to peek what hides behind the curtain. Barefoot, rejected the numbing coldness of the tiled floor, and nervously longed for the curtain to move it sideward.
.......I saw you.
.......My mouth dropped open, and for several seconds, it remained ajar. Then it clamped shut again. "What should I do?" I asked myself. My body trembled. All the pain. The happiness. The regret. They seemed to parade the chambers of my heart in panic. I suddenly remembered the words you spoke to me. Those words that made me happy, that almost murdered me when they escaped your lips, like soldiers seeking refuge, power by a cadence of strong emotions.
.......You begged for me to listen, but I did not.
POSTED at 11:40 PM (PST)
I almost forgot about this! And I know. It's a very very short story. Well, apparently, Shirley is already in a place beyond reach — a place so called Heaven. This is the picture I imagined after she died.
I'll be back~ ~（´ ∀｀）☆
Entry: Visual Arts!
My entry is a big picture, hence the spoiler tag for compactness
The picture is of two people clashing it out with swords (so totally PG-rated :>) Enjoy desu!
Title: Living The Dream
Word Count: 1972
Living The Dream
Life is but a dream.
You have always remembered those words, if only because they are the only things you can remember. Here, now, then and again. Time and space? If you can’t remember the world as it was, can you dream the world as it should be? And if one can, does that mean you can dream the world as it is? Isn’t that what following ones’ dream means?
You are awakened by the sensation of your arms being pinned down onto the bed sheets. Silky strands of honey-scented hair tickle your nose. You open your eyes. You don’t even glimpse her face as she leans in, pressing her warmth against you, the hotness of her breath tingling your neck.
You mumble a name. Kirino?
She responds by purring and pressing harder.
“Ah-ahhhhhhh-ahhh Onii-chan. I got. You. Up.”
You roll out from beneath her with the force of shame and stumble backwards onto the floor. On the bed she leans forward, back arched, hair tussled up and giving the impression of cat ears. But those eyes. As wide and bright as the new moon, filling her face so that her nose, if you can call it that, appears a small snub. Forcing yourself away from her groping gaze the room reels around you indistinct and hazy as if your imagination had run out of budget. Running your hands through your hair you wordlessly grimace in pain, as if poking a cactus. The mirror reveals your hair to be akin to the spike pits of the jungles of Bora-Bora. Kirino lazily rolls onto her back and reveals the low cut of her blouse with the same practiced motion of a cheap Hollywood actor smiling at their reflection, preparing for their money shot.
“You better be grateful I woke you up, you were gonna be late.”
She makes no effort to get off your bed, however.
You catch her pouting as you make your way out the door.
* * *
Racing along the streets, you nibble the toast hanging from your mouth which your imouto so loving prepared. You glance at your watch, and decide to take a shortcut through the alley. Lunging out of the darkness, an orange-yellow rat the size of a basketball steals your mouth-toast and scurries away, its frenzied screech of pika-pika-squeak echoing along the alley. It stops to hiss at some loli waddling towards school, and you punt it towards the moon. You make it to class as the bell rings. Your childhood friend glares at you, her red ribbon snaking around agitatedly. You look down at the beaming faces of the appreciative loli. You try to tell Chitoge it isn’t what it appears, but she mouths the word baka anyways as the loli wander off to play with coloring books in the back of the classroom. The teacher introduces the mysterious transfer student. You cannot tell what is redder, her hair or your face as she walks over and slaps you, calling you baka. Ah, Asuka. No, you don’t recall the promise you made. No, if you were in sync with one another she wouldn’t slap you. What do you mean she had your Second Child already?! Chitoge releases her limiter, the ribbon hitting the floor with a thud. Baka baka baka BAKA baka BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA she shouts, transforming into a giant Great Golden Ape. Roaring, she smashes through the roof as she completes her transformation and a hand the size of a bus swoops down, grabbing you. BAKA BAKA BAKA she shouts, the force of her fury causing the school to tremble as you are assaulted by repeated sonic booms. The loli continue to color. She opens her mouth and with a BAKA filled with the repressed desires of childhood friends everywhere, blasts you with a laser beam.
Wispy smoke drifts off of you and you now have distinct tan lines, but other than that you are unharmed. Chitoge, calm now, sets you down and reverts to human. Asuka berates you for flirting with other girls. You stop and stare at her, asking why she has her skirt hiked above school regulations. She tries to stifle a nervous laugh. You shout over the loud grinding of the lolis’ crayons, telling her just how transparently two-dimensional she is. You take your seat back by the window. The sun is in your eyes and you wonder how anyone ever gets any work done sitting here though you realize it doesn’t help that the school no longer has a roof.
A dark shadow looms over you. Peering upwards you try to discern the object hurtling towards the school. You realize what it is.
A Mysterious Girl Falls From The Clouds.
Leaping off your desk, you find yourself in midair before even questioning your decision but, no, this is what heroes do, what people who become the protagonists of their life’s story do. Challenge conformity.
Save The Girl.
You spin around and around in the air, inching closer. Clothes whipped by the wind. Her mouth is wide and open and trembling. You cannot hear her over the wind. Clouds race by and the spinning curvature of the earths’ horizon instills vertigo.
You cannot reach her.
You are parallel on a two-dimensional plane, forever running circles around logic and blame and guilt, a line was drawn somewhere sometime and it was crossed so now your paths are never crossing, perhaps you just didn’t see things from the right angle, perpetually apart----
You cannot touch her.
-----you cannot recall a time or a place where you ever were one, memories of togetherness are but a dream. A flight of fancy. There is no point to meet and no point in meeting now and if there ever was point to any of this it has been long abandoned and all that is left is pantomime. Here, a trope. There, a cliché. Giant sweat drop.
Sorry I walked in on you nude.
You never could reach her.
Teardrops slip loose from her eyes and defy gravity to soar upwards, sparkling in the sun like shooting stars.
* * *
She had always said you were down-to-earth. You look around. Chitoge and Asuka argue in the roofless schoolroom. You wonder if Kirino is still pouting on your bed. The loli wave to you. Birds chirp nearby. Orange-yellow rats dash around nearby bushes. The earth is calm and still beneath your feet.
A Giant Robot Falls From The Clouds.
You climb into the robot. Try to forget the girl. Pew pew pew. Kaboom! BUY THE MODEL KIT! Human emotion replaced by serene plasticine models and the grey morality of the world deposed by Technicolor rainbows blooming on the battlefield.
In space opera, no one can hear you scream.
Oh no. The part about politics and the nature of humanity. Boring. Good night, sweet Prince Casval, counting Red Comets until slumber betakes you.
You awake at school. Laying inside the roofless classroom you watch red shooting stars blaze by above. The heavens become obscured by a red-gold veil. Your childhood friend leans down over you, and opens her mouth to confess. You glance at your watch, hoping that it’s late enough to not worry about intruding passerby, government censors, or parental watchdog groups. She takes off her blouse. Light beams from the moon shining above obscure her breasts. You curse the heavens. She moves to embrace you. Moonbeams replaced by Blu-rays?!
You shout for joy.
The door to the classroom is blasted off its hinges and desks fly towards you and the childhood friend. Your imouto stands in the doorway, wielding a hammer twice her size.
“Onii-chan. You would make a dreadful mistake sleeping with her. So I came to wake you UP!”
You slowly try to back away, but she relentlessly strides forth, swinging the hammer-----
A Scene Transition Falls From The Clouds.
Your toes dig into the soft warm sand. The calming lull of the ocean beckons. The loli build sandcastles. Your childhood friend awkwardly stammers, wondering if her bikini looks okay before going to play in the waves. Your imouto lays on a beach blanket, staring at you through half-closed eyes, asking you to apply some sunscreen.
Is this happiness?
The heavens darken. The ocean recedes. Your childhood friend limply drops her beach ball, rolling across the rocky, barren plain where the seas once sparkled. The moon groans as it turns and turns and turns, a cosmic cog disjointed. Red comets rain down in the distance. The earth trembles. Your imouto scrapes her skin raw, rubbing sunscreen in ceaselessly. The loli build a sand Tower of Babel.
What’s going on, you shout.
We’ve been canceled, your childhood friend moans.
How could this happen? Weren’t your hug-pillows SELLING, you howl.
The loli shriek, and the wind weeps with their wailing.
The moon revolves further and comes to a halt, revealing a distorted and decrepit face.
Manga-kami is dead, your childhood friend cries. [Translators note: God is dead.]
An enormous hand rises above the horizon, riding the wave of returning ocean and smashes into the beach, gouging the earth until it comes to a shuddering halt like a vast, bloated beached whale. Rising from the sewers in the street near the beach swarm a horde of orange-yellow rats which descend upon the loli, pika-pika-squeak OM NOM NOM.
You try to run over to your childhood friend, but your feet are slashed repeatedly by the cheap stock paper of the rushed final volume of the canceled manga. You believe you see her laughing hysterically and pulling her hair out, but the world has become obscured by the blotchy cheap toner the manga has been printed on, and you cannot be certain.
You look around desperately for a way out.
A Golden Ladder Descends From The Clouds.
Perhaps you had managed to become a popular enough character to get your own spin-off. You begin to climb the ladder. You look down at those you are leaving behind. You hesitate, and they see you. The eyes of your imouto and childhood friend go wide in fear, glimmer with hope, then flash with rage. Your imouto says family should stay together. Your childhood friend puts on an alluring miniskirt. You vehemently shake your head no. You wonder if you should reach a hand down, but you grip the ladder too tightly to move. Snarling, they begin to ascend themselves. Frozen by fear you cannot move. They reach you but instead of trying to climb up attempt to pull you down. The ladder shakes and sways. On instinct and animal rage you kick kick kick baka baka BAKA BAKA BAKAS FALL.
You manage to get a glimpse up your childhood friends’ miniskirt as she plummets before the view is obscured by heavenly rays. The golden ladder ascends into the clouds, accompanied by a heavenly chorus of character songs and J-Pop. In this moment, you are euphoric. Surrounded by clouds, feeling weightless, the soft pale curves of the clouds, of falling, of clouds drifting by, of falling, falling, falling, falling, falling through the clouds---
You look around. Your pale white dress flutters in the wind as you fall. You always hated that dream where you were A Mysterious Girl Falling From The Clouds. Spinning and spinning and spinning you look up at the stars twinkling, smiling at you as they recede. Clouds part before you as you fall. You spin and spin and spin faster and faster as you plummet. Surely your Prince will catch you. The ground rushes up to meet you.
Surely you and he will meet.
There is nothing in your way now.
There is nothing between you but lies and guilt and blame.
This is the world you wanted.
Surely he will catch you, right----------
There is a feeling of sadness that comes upon waking from a dream, or when a good anime is over. Yet in commenting on, or analyzing, anime, do we not contribute to "slaying" the dream of the author, of taking it for ourselves and getting from it what we desire? Of imposing our dream onto theirs? In this sense, writing a story utilizing the characters of another is similar. The sadness becomes Schadenfreude.
Similarly, reading fan fics (or any sort of writing) one once wrote can elicit similar feelings. Schadenfreude arises from just not being able to look away from the mess that are those old fan fics of ours. Instead of slaying the dream of another author, our own works repudiate ourselves.
When does a dream become a nightmare? When does sadness become pain become pleasure become all the same thing?
But, in reality, is it sadness?
Or is the story about that illicit thrill, about the search for Action?
Help Jibril Become The Avenging Angel For Those Who Have Fallen! Vote Jibril...
Time was fast approaching a critical junction, and the clock had my undivided attention. Tick, tock, tick… tock! A resounding clang chimed and it signaled the start of my mission.
Due to my earlier, questionable defeat, I inherited this weighty responsibility.
I got up, took a deep breath, and leapt over the hurdles with deft precision. I had made this same journey far too many times to count, which reflected on how many times I had lost a game of simple probability with hands – “cheaters” I mumbled. But I’m a sportsman, so I must be gracious not only when I win, but when I lose as well. I soldiered on.
I dashed, meandered around would-be obstacles, and relied upon my reflexes and muscle memory to take me to the zone of interest, ignoring the usual, reactionary bellowing of some disciplinary tyrant.
Then I arrived at… the arena.
The stakes were high. Failure was not an option, which experience has cruelly ingrained into the trauma section of not just my memories, but those of my teammates, who shared the same fate.
Just by my hearing and peripheral vision alone, I could see that the difficulty was again set to maximum.
“They’re counting on me - I can’t fail them again!” I shouted, stressed. The fingers of my hands were interlocked behind the upper back of my head, where my palms rested.
Whilst lamenting my misfortune, my mind wandered back to what my teammates said to me after it was decided that I was to execute the operation; the pats on my back, the shouts of encouragements, their desperate, pleading looks in their eyes…
Suddenly, a familiar other-worldly experience enveloped my entire senses.
The angry cacophony of the writhing beast in front of me drowned out from my ears and my vision was reduced to black and white with only two visual foci: the giant, dark beast and just beyond it – the critical trade area. Bizarrely enough, red sparks of lightning arcs started to flow out of my eyes, but I had expected it; it meant that I was in complete control of my body, and that it was going to perform at 100%.
Whilst I initiated my sprint, I ordered my right hand to shoot immediately into my trouser pocket, and prised several round objects that were representations of tangible trust. I kept a firm grip – they were absolutely necessary for the trade – the goal of my task.
My feet shot off like a cannon, and my body pierced through the air, gaining speed. The monster grew louder, but ignored my attacking motions.
This is it - my instincts told me that the right timing was now. I made a mini jump forward, landed on my two feet, crouched down – and leapt up high.
All the stored potential energy was converted to kinetic energy in that moment and propelled me up one, two, four… seven feet high, over the monster.
It seemingly noticed me, as all its curious eyes re-focused from the zone to the flying human.
Wasting no time, at the apex of my jump, I reflexively fired the round objects into the critical zone. With the sheer force I applied to them, they had a moment where they looked like comets with blue trails, and, like comets that meet with surfaces, it created a mini impact crater.
I easily vaulted over the beast, landed like a cat near the front of the crater, then slammed my right palm onto a sturdy surface around it and verbally listed off my requested items to the dealer, with an arrogant victory smirk on my face.
“You failed, huh?” My captain enquired, noticing the obvious lack of items in my hands, the giant, disciplinary lump protruding from my head, and the general battered state of my appearance. I nodded with a downcast countenance. He patted my back in pity, and let out a long sigh.
As teammates, as brothers, we made a vow from the beginning to engage in the rewards or punishments simultaneously, whatever they may be. We gave each other the usual nervous look, sweat appearing from a few of our foreheads.
“Run & Gun!” My captain shouted.
“Run & Gun!” We replied in kind.
We collectively produced an audible gulp and took the first bite of the, energy package shall we call it, that our Coach happened to have made too many of.
“Not protein powder again, Coach!” we collectively groaned, with winces in our faces, and protesting taste buds – or what remained of them.
“No matter how my times I see it, Japanese lunch time rush is truly a formidable opponent” my spirit remarked in admiration, while clinging desperately to my now limp body.
Title: Mission Impossible
Anime: Kuroko's Basketball
Featuring: Kagami, Hyuga, Riko and the rest of team Seiren.
Thanks for reading!
Winter has come.
Hi: This is my first time trying to post anything. I did this watercolor, "A Minor Problem," for my own entertainmet. enter it in under Comedy. Hope everyone is having a great summer! 皆さん, 素晴らしい夏の持っています!