Catch & Release: Hard Definitions (WMatsui/NatsuMado drabbles)

[gekikarabuACE]

Catch & Release: One-shots Collection
Blackbird (WMatsui)
People of the Lie
Pastime (WMatsui)
Hard Definitions (NatsuMado/WMatsui)

Hi everyone, it's me~! Lol! You might have seen me somewhere around here leaving little comments here and there. Anyway, I just wanted to drop this off here. It's a one-shot I wrote about a year ago for a different fandom. I thought I'd tweak it a bit and see how it looks like with WMatsui. And if I should resume writing fics like I did back then.

Blackbird

It really shouldn’t mean much.

They were absentee parents most of the time, anyway.

It isn’t exactly her first time to be cast aside like some useless afterthought, but she really thought that the circumstances would merit something more than a bouquet of flowers with a trite ‘get-well-soon’ card (coming straight from that odiously cheerful delivery guy knocking on her door). She would have expected, at the very least, a brief personal appearance on their part, just like that time she told them the news of her scholarship, or that time she graduated at the top of her class, or that time she had her first art exhibit.

Or even that time when she accidentally poisoned the family dog.

She was expecting at least that, but this…

This is just so… lame.

Apparently, this time can’t even be ranked as the same (it’s pathetic how a sick dog even ranks higher than this). And if it isn’t enough that they’re leaving their now broken daughter under the care of complete strangers, they had to tell her so in the form of a measly-worded letter. (She doesn’t see the words yet she feels them stabbing her just the same, and if that doesn’t rub salt into her already gaping wound, she thinks nothing ever will).

She prides herself as one strong and resilient girl, but when life stacks the odds so up high, she thinks she’s had enough.

Anyone would.

So when the paper crumples helplessly under her shaking fists, gets torn into odd little pieces, and then thrown blindly into the wind, no one is really surprised. She finds it almost offensive, the way everyone drowns her with a barrage of empty encouragement, and it takes much screaming and glaring from her part before they finally leave her be (though how the nurse falls for that is really beyond her).

She can’t see, she can’t feel, she can’t hear. She tunes out the rest of the world (just like what the world has done to her) and everything blends into one depressingly dark sight.

“You’re not really thinking about jumping down from there, are you?”

The voice comes out of nowhere and it startles her enough to make her heart tumble slightly (but not enough to trip her feet). She shuts her eyes tightly, steadies herself for a brief moment, and then continues on to take a few more shuffled steps. When her foot hits the ledge, she takes one deep breath and – 

“What? Are you deaf, as well?”

“Mind your own business, damn it!” she eventually half-shrieks in frustration, abandoning whatever plans she had on being discreet.  Her head whips violently towards the intruder. She takes notice of the faint echoes of music (a guitar, perhaps?) for the first time, and it irritates her even more so. “And just leave me alone!”

“Suit yourself. But just so you know, that fish pond you’re standing on the edge of isn’t even knee-deep. I doubt you’ll be able to do anything other than get yourself wet.”

That one completely freezes her on the spot.

“Your nurse brought you down to the botanical garden, here in the ground floor, if that’s what you’re thinking,” the voice nonchalantly adds, as if reading her thoughts.

(She really should have known better; no one gets intimidated by a non-existent glare.)

“Nurses here aren’t stupid as to take a blind person like you to the green roof garden and leave you there.”

Her shoulders slumps forward.

The whole plan goes crashing down after that.


-


It takes around a week for her to learn the girl’s name; the same amount of time it takes for them to take her bandages away.

“Oi,” she carelessly calls out to that someone who is surely lounging around the garden grounds somewhere. “You… person.”

“My name is not ‘oi’, or ‘person’; it’s Rena. How many more times do I have to say my name for you to remember it, Jurina?”

“I don’t care. Rena, or whatever it is you call yourself,” Jurina lazily retorts. She plays around mindlessly with the wheelchair her nurse insists that she takes, pushing herself slightly back and forth until her arms tire out.

“I’m older than you, you know. You’re only what, eighteen? Nineteen?”

“Fifteen.”

“That young…?” The voice pensively trails off.

“Whatever. For all I know, you could be an escaped psych patient waiting for a chance to chop me into parts, or worse yet, a non-existent figure that is only a figment of my overactive imagination.”

“Actually, I’m neither. I’m an earthbound ghost, cursed to haunt and annoy obnoxious patients like you forever.” Rena finishes it off with a maniacal laugh. She strums the strings loudly for a dramatic effect. “Say, are you mad?”

“Tch.” Jurina dismisses her childish antics with an irritated snort. “Don’t you have anything better to do that to hang out here in the hospital and fool around with that guitar of yours?”

“No, I don’t,” she answers a little too lightly. “What about you? Don’t you have anything better to do than to sit here in the garden all day and wallow in that never-ending pity party of yours?”

The flippant comment unexpectedly barrels through Jurina’s fragile pride (or what’s left of it) like a two-ton truck and hits her smack dab in the face. Her hands curl into tight fists as she reels from the impact, because the wound it makes burns with the unmistakable truth.

“What exactly do you know? You’re not the one who’s blind and useless, are you? You didn’t get robbed of your future, did you? No? I don’t think so.” Jurina lets out a dry laugh, her words turning so bitter that she could almost taste it in her mouth. A self-conscious hand reaches up to rub her eyes and she belatedly wonders why the bandages had to come off like it did (because this is a reality she’s still not yet willing to see). “If you think it’s going to be easy for you to deal with something like this, then good for you. But I can’t live with myself knowing that all of this is true.”

Everything abruptly comes to a standstill. All the light pretenses of jest disappear into thin air, leaving only heavy silence.

Rena takes a moment to answer, and when she does, Jurina strains to catch her fleeting whisper.

“You can. You just don’t know how.”


She thinks it’ll definitely take her more than a week to learn that.


 -


They don’t really talk to each other after that little incident, although that didn’t stop either of them from hanging out in the same garden with each other. Surprisingly, Jurina starts finding Rena’s constant presence strangely comforting and her melancholic music pleasantly soothing.

“Hey, Rena-chan…” Jurina meekly interrupts her music during one those instances, directly addressing her unseen company for the first time (in a long time). It feels a bit weird, and not to mention awkward, but she thinks it’s about time she breaks the cold war they’ve been waging against each other. “Is that the only song you know how to play?”

“What?”

Or maybe that’s just her. Rena certainly sounds just as cheerful as when Jurina first heard her, with no trace of veiled hostility or awkwardness in her voice whatsoever.

“I asked if that’s the one you know how to play.” Her head turns slightly in the direction of Rena’s music (or at least, where she thinks it is) and repeats herself, a little more confidently, this time around. “I always hear you singing that same song whenever you’re here.”

“Oh, that. No, I do know how to play other songs. But this one is the first song I learned to play with this guitar, and it’s also my favorite.” Rena easily explains while she lightly plucks out the familiar chords. The music pauses briefly and she asks, “Do you want me play a different one instead?”

“No, that’s fine. Keep playing it.” Jurina finds herself leisurely bobbing her head with the beat when Rena does continue. A rare smile tugs on the corner of her lips as she mumbles to herself,

“I like the way it sounds, actually.”

(Like a much-needed salve to her tender and aching heart.)


-


Rena doesn’t really tell Jurina anything about herself, other than the fact that her mother works as a nurse at the hospital, and that she lives with her somewhere nearby.

Not that Jurina minds, though, because Rena’s keen sense of curiosity piques her own, and when the two of them spend their time together, they seem to keep each other’s curiosity well-satisfied.

“Eh? Rena-chan, you haven’t forgotten that I’m blind, right?” Jurina asks dryly when she feels two soft hands wrapping itself over her eyes (she would’ve given Rena an eye roll, too, if she actually could).  “There’s no need to keep my eyes covered.”

“It’s because you keep on searching things with them when I told you not to,” the girl playfully whines. Rena’s honeyed voice floats somewhere behind her left ear, and she’s standing close enough for Jurina to feel her breath tickle her bare skin. “You should really learn how to appreciate the little things, instead. Now, what do you hear?”

“The annoying sound of your breathing?” She easily shoots back. Jurina struggles briefly to pry Rena’s hands off her eyes, but after a few seconds of trying, she ends up giving in with a sigh. “I don’t know. What am I supposed to hear?”

“Just listen,” Rena insists. “Don’t you hear that?”

“Hear what? There’s nothing there except…” Jurina lets herself be immersed in the moment as she tries to catch whatever it is that the older girl is trying to point out.

“...the birds…”

“And?”

“…the bees…”

“…and?”

“…the flowers and the trees?”

Rena pinches her cheeks lightly. “Smartass. Pay attention and listen carefully.”

Jurina chuckles from her own joke, and though she means her words to be taken lightly, the music she hears really does paint the picture of spring – from the gentle rustling of twigs and leaves, to the symphony of melodious twits and peeps. If she tries even harder, Jurina thinks she can even hear the distant sound of merry little children playing and laughing in a field.

Wait. What?

“Is there a school nearby?” She snaps into attention and listens some more. Amazingly, she really is hearing things right.

“The kids usually have their PE class this time of the day,” Rena triumphantly confirms when Jurina eventually gets it correct. “Sometimes they do exercises, but most times they just play around. Sounds really fun, ne?”

“It sounds like they’re having a blast.” Flashes of her own short childhood flood Jurina’s mind, and the unforgettable memories of her those spring days bring a pleasant surprise. Her mouth twists into an unmistakable smile. “How was your childhood like? Did you lug around that guitar of yours even when you were a kid? Or were you someone who was actually cool? Like the queen of Phys. Ed or something.”

“Actually, I was home-schooled most of my life. But I’m sure it would have been fun, playing dodge ball and all those other stuff,” the other girl casually replies. Jurina’s eyebrows knot together when her own arms suddenly start flailing around. “Do you still remember how to do it?”

She pulls her arms away from Rena’s grasp and tries to swipe at the girl’s head (it fails). Rena just giggles off her futile attempt.

“Of course I do. It hasn’t been that long since I was an elementary student. Wait, you were home-schooled? I would have thought – ” Jurina cuts herself off when she hears the slightest breathe of movement. Her hand darts out from nowhere and surprisingly catches Rena’s arm with it. “Rena-chan? You’re not leaving me alone here, are you?”

“No, not just yet. My foot just fell asleep.” The girl reassuringly squeezes her hand with small laugh. “I didn’t know you studied in America. What was it like?” 


-


“Rena-chan?”

“Hmn?”

“What does this garden look like?” Jurina asks out of the blue.

She’s sitting against a massive tree trunk, legs stretched out in front of her, while Rena is settled somewhere on the other side of their favorite shady tree (Rena tells her it’s oak). It’s become a common routine for them during warm and lazy afternoons, when they’re both feeling too tired and too hot to move about and Rena is actually out of hospital exploits to expound.

Jurina shifts from her current position when an odd knob digs uncomfortably in her back.

“I’ve been spending so much time here for a few weeks now, but I still have no idea what this garden looks like. Is it really beautiful?”

The music stops playing as Rena stops humming a very familiar tune, and with that lilting voice of hers, Rena throws the question back at her, “What do you think? Can’t you guess?”

“Life is going to be one big guessing game with you, isn’t it?” She observes defeatedly. “Just go ahead and play your guitar or something, then.”

“Always the cynical one. Why is it that you always seem to find it hard to trust yourself? It’s not going to be that hard for you to guess.” Rena clucks her tongue at her. The instrument gently hits the ground with a hollow thud. “Here, I’ll help you.”

Jurina stumbles lightly when Rena pulls her to her feet. It’s one tentative step after another, but Rena’s firm hold on her arm calms and steadies her. She lets herself be freely guided as they stroll along the cobblestoned path.

They stop a few moments after.

“Did you know? Every flower has a hidden meaning behind them,” the other girl starts. “People barely remember this age-old art form anymore, but it does exist.

“Takes these sweet peas for example.” Jurina hears a faint sound of twigs breaking, and seconds later she feels a stem of flower being pressed softly on her palm. With Rena’s help, she brings the flower closer to her face, just enough for her to breathe in its sweet and sensuous scent. “In the language of flowers, sweet peas mean blissful or lasting pleasure. Some other times, it’s also used to say ‘goodbye’.”   

Rena pauses and then laughs lightly. “That’s one sweet goodbye though, isn’t it?”

She bobs her head in agreement.

The girl gently nudges her forward and they resume walking down the short winding trail.

One by one, Rena enthusiastically explains each flower they encounter along the way. While she does, Jurina grins from ear to ear, all giddy from excitement (because Rena just gave her back her precious painter’s palette and now she’s completely free to brush and shade and paint her otherwise black canvas of an environment).

“These exuberant azaleas stand for love, romance and sometimes, first love. The Chinese actually use it as the symbol of womanhood and femininity.

“Those delicate freesias, on the other hand, mean innocence and friendship.

“The striking and colorful gladiolus flower symbolizes strength of character, infatuation, or sometimes, remembrance.

“Purple lilacs, like this one, symbolize the first emotions of love, and to many, lilacs are considered to be harbingers of spring.”

Their short trip winds down and in no time, Rena is leading her back to their initial spot.

“And last, but certainly not the least,” Rena suddenly declares, just as Jurina plops down and once again settles against the tree trunk. This time, it takes Rena more than a few seconds to speak, and when she does, a small bouquet of flowers simultaneously falls in Jurina’s lap.

“Lily of the valley. This small and simple flower means the return of happiness.” The other girl sidles and takes a seat right alongside her. “If you haven’t figured it out by now, these flowers are growing near your favorite spot.”

With an appreciative smile, Jurina fiddles with its petals and nods her head.

“So, what do you think?”

“I didn’t expect this garden to be as beautiful as this,” she readily admits, head lolling sideward to rest on Rena’s shoulder. In turn, Rena rests her own head on top of hers. “I bet it’s just as amazing as that one in Shizuoka.”

“Is it, really?” The vibration from Rena’s voice tickles her.

“You haven’t been there?”

Rena shakes her head lightly. “My mother gets lonely too easily, and I’m always afraid of leaving her alone. I’m all that she’s got.”

The words all come out casually but Jurina swears she can hear the faintest traces of sadness seeping from the girl’s voice.

“What’s the garden there like?”

“Well, their flower garden has a larger variety of flowers compared to here. I mean, it’s a national park and all.” She taps her chin thoughtfully as she racks her brain for the picture.

“And unlike the fish pond we have right here, they have a small lake there instead.” The images start to flood in and Jurina quickly finds herself caught in its pleasant memories. “They also have a hiking trail, which I even got lost in, once. Our stupid dog ran off-trail and had me chasing after him deeper into the forest. Took me an hour to figure my way back.” 

For the next hour or so, Jurina regales Rena with her own stories about the Hamamatsu Flower Park, the Ashikaga Flower Park, the Tottori Hanakairo Flower Park, and all the other flower parks she has been to in her short life. It’s nothing really special, just a few stories about the little school trips she participated in back when she was still an actual – prodigious - painter (and not just an imaginary one). But Rena’s enthusiasm infects her, and Jurina can’t help but be swept with her own stories as well.

“Sugoi~!” Rena marvels enviously when Jurina finishes. “It sounds really beautiful. I wish I could also go and visit those places someday.”

“You and I should definitely visit at least one of those gardens in the future. Maybe we’ll start with the one in Hokkaido, then work our way south, towards Fukuoka,” Jurina thoughtfully suggests, mind already teeming with the possibilities concerning their hypothetical open-ended quest. She excitedly drums her fingers, which up until now, have been playing with Rena’s own. “And when we’re there, you have to tell me what each and every flower means, alright?”

The other girl intertwines their hands. “That sounds really nice.”

(Once in a while, it crosses Jurina’s mind that Rena may not be as free as she thinks the girl is.)


-


It’s not like they can even do anything much, considering that Jurina is still blind as a bat and the place is just but a garden.

So on the rare cool nights that they spend with each other, when the crickets and fireflies have all come out to cheerfully play, they sit in silence under the sparkling moon and stars, basking in the moment’s tranquility instead (it doesn’t always sound convincing but she’s a bit of a romantic, so even though she doesn’t see it, in her mind that’s how she paints it). 

“I want to see your face.”

Jurina breaks the silence of one such evening. Her hands each plant itself firmly beside her as she leans slightly forward, head tipping up to face her starry, starry sky. 

“Why? You still think I’m just a ghost or figment of your imagination after all this time?” Rena kiddingly asks with an exasperated sigh.

“No, silly. I really just want to see your face,” she earnestly insists. “Just because.”

“’Just because’? What are you, twelve?” The other girl snorts.

“Close enough. I’m fifteen, remember?”

“Eh, you know what I mean.”

“Rena-chaaan~” She drags out her name sweetly, hoping it’ll be enough to persuade the older girl.

“You’re going to have to say something better than that, or else I’m really going to think you don’t believe me.”

“Alright, fine.” Jurina pouts a little about her failed attempt but nevertheless, she continues on. “Well, it’s just that, somehow, I’ve been thinking…” She pauses, thoughtfully scratching her head as she contemplates on her answer. “We’ve known each other for quite some time now, but I still haven’t seen your face. I’m really curious as to what you actually look like.”

“Does it really matter?” Rena questions pensively.

“Of course it does. I want to know what kind of face a person like you have. Besides, I think it’s only fair.”

“Fair? Fair what? I didn’t know this was some kind of a game.”

“Matsui Rena-san, just because I’m blind, it doesn’t mean I don’t feel you staring at me all the time. Fair is only fair.”

“I think I’ve taught you too much,” the girl regretfully expresses. With a faint smile threatening to overcome her face, Jurina wordlessly notes the utter lack of denial on the other girl’s part.

“No, you’ve taught me just enough.” She waves her over. “Come on, Rena-chan.”

“Seriously? But what’s the point? I can’t even compare to you.”

A warm feeling spreads in her cheeks (and in her chest) and Jurina is sure she’s blushing. She waves the embarrassment off with a few flicks of her wrist. “Just let me be the judge of that. Now come closer and let me see.”

Rena laughs her off but ultimately, she relents, moving in closer to her that their legs and knees completely touch.

Taking both Jurina’s hands in hers, Rena slowly guides them until they touch her face. For the longest time, Jurina doesn’t take a breath as she runs her dainty fingers along Rena’s cool and smooth skin, gently making out the shape of her nose, the depth of her eyes, and the fullness of her lips. 

The other girl covers Jurina’s hands on her face with her own. Jurina literally feels the moment when Rena cracks a smile. “How is it?”

“It’s just as I thought.”

She breaks into a (self-satisfied) smile herself.

“A pure and angelic voice like yours could only belong to a beautiful person such as yourself.”


Times like these are when Jurina briefly forgets all the feelings of regret for ever having to figure in that life-changing accident.


-


She knows they’ve always had it coming – every ‘hello’ always comes with a ‘goodbye’. But when theirs approaches inevitably, Jurina stubbornly decides she isn’t ready to say the word just yet.

The next time they sit in that wooden bench, the rest of the world stays unobtrusively quiet (and if she doesn’t know any better, she would think they’re all trying to listen in).

“I think I’m going to be leaving soon,” Jurina opens without so much as a preamble. The air surrounding them is decidedly somber, not even a peep coming from their usual companions during the nights. “I can’t stay here in the hospital forever. They say they’ve found a possible donor for me, and I might be getting the operation real soon. In a week’s time, maybe.”

“That’s good news, right?” Even Rena’s voice sounds positively weak. “Aren’t you happy? The next time they take off your bandages again, you’ll finally be able to see.”

“I am happy,” she replies, although she sounds anything but. “It’s just that… I’m kind of getting used to this already.”

“…and?”

Jurina hems and haws for a second, fingers fiddling absently with the edges of her shirt as she tries to come out with the other answer.

“I’m scared.”

“Scared of what? Of gaining what you lost?” The other girl prods perceptively. “Or losing what you gained?”

She doesn’t answer because it’s such a cruel question (like nobody should ever be asked to choose between their left and right hand). If gaining what she has lost means she’s losing what she has gained, then Jurina doesn’t think it makes any difference, and would rather not choose at all.

“Don’t be. You’ve already come this far, haven’t you?” Rena quietly reminds her. Jurina feels Rena’s cool hand cover hers and give a light squeeze. “You’re ready. Whatever it is that’s waiting for you, I think you’re ready.”

“Am I, really?”

“You’ve only been waiting for this,” is what Rena only tells her. 

“Can we still meet here, like this?” Silence briefly ensues and her breath hitches for a moment. “Rena-chan? I can still see you after, right?”

“Of course you can.” Stirrings of a soothing music drift softly around.

Jurina slips both arms around Rena’s waist, rests her chin on the girl’s shoulder, and hums along ever so softly when Rena starts singing that familiar song about the broken bird waiting for his moment to fly.

They spend the rest of their borrowed time sitting amidst the stillness of the night.


(It rains heavily the day before her operation, leaving her stranded and with nothing to do except mope around by the open window of her room. The pitter-patter of raindrops overcomes the rest of her senses, but Jurina swears she still hears the sound of Rena’s music whispering to her in her sleep.)


-


It takes one week, two days, and five hours for Jurina to completely gain her eyesight back.

Only now – Jurina thinks – it doesn’t matter, because she doesn’t see Rena after that particular night. Not anywhere in the garden, and certainly not in their spot; it’s as if the girl’s existence was a mere shadow in the (now non-existent) dark. (The bandages have come off but she’s still blinded just the same. If it isn’t for the fact that she can see herself while her eyes are wide open, she would have thought that the operation failed.)

It’s not until she encounters a sympathetic nurse that she finally finds the right path. Jurina doesn’t understand the rueful stares and the hushed whispers she’s getting, nor does she understand why she’s even headed to a room at the end of some hallway, as she’s directed.

But then she sees the sign, and her heart sinks with realization.

(She doesn’t want to accept it. She doesn’t think she can accept it. But this really is Rena’s cage, and nothing she can do will change that.)

There’s nothing for her to do other than brace herself.

She pushes the door open. The darkness unveils itself….


Cold and lifeless room.

Tubes snaking all over a frail-looking body.

A tired and sheepish smile.


It’s reality staring right back.


“Not as beautiful as you think, right?”

It’s almost mechanical, the way she drags her heavy feet across the room and comes closer to the bed. Rena’s grin widens a little when Jurina eventually drops down hopelessly on the empty seat.

She takes a moment to answer.

“No.”

Closing her eyes, Jurina takes Rena’s hand with hers, knits them tightly together, and then gently lays her head down on Rena’s chest. Everything once again fades into nothingness (because that is their real world, and it always will be). She only hears the slow sound of her breathing, smells the sweet scent of her being, and feels the steady warmth of her heart.

“You are more than perfect.”

Jurina struggles to collect the pieces of her own heart.

“Don’t cry, Jurina. Please don’t cry for me,” Rena tells her softly, reaching out to wipe the hot tears brimming from her sorrowful eyes. “I am just as ready as you are.”

She grabs hold of Rena’s hand on her face and keeps it there.

“Because I am you, and you are me. We’re both ready for this. We’ve both been waiting for our moment, right?”

Jurina numbly nods head.

“If anything, I just feel so sorry that I can’t visit those gardens with you, like what we promised.”

“It’s alright. You don’t have to.” Biting her lip, Jurina accepts Rena’s apologetic smile and returns the favor with a brave one (she falters at the last minute, but Rena doesn’t seem to mind). “But if you think you’re getting off easy, think again. You have to do something else to make up for it.”

She spies a weathered-looking guitar resting near the bedside, abandoned, and it makes it even harder for her to keep her smile.

“How about singing that favorite song of yours? I haven’t heard it in quite a while. I miss hearing you sing,” for the first time, Jurina freely admits. She thinks there’s absolutely nothing better than listening to broken birds singing in the dead of the night. “Can you sing it for me, please, Rena-chan? One last time?”

“Of course.”

Jurina tightens her hold on Rena’s hand and plants a chaste kiss on her forehead. The other girl smiles at her gratefully.

Soon enough, a melancholic music fills the air. (There’s no one left to play the guitar this time; the emptiness it leaves becomes palpable. Even though Jurina believes she isn’t capable, she still fills the void with her broken voice and sings out the familiar words herself.)

“…all your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free.”



Time fleetingly passes, and no matter how much she wishes, it doesn’t really stop for either of them. (She knows she can’t stay in that place forever, and sooner or later, she does have to say goodbye.)

The room finally grows silent (for the last time).

It’s time for her to take her leave, and when she does, Jurina doesn’t even try to stifle her anguished cry. Before she completely goes, Jurina picks out every kind of flower there is from the garden just so she could have something to remember everything by (she doesn’t forget to leave the sweet peas in Rena’s bedside).

Jurina stands at the threshold and takes a deep breath.



Taking one last look back, she steps out of the hospital, takes the broken wings Rena gave her, and flies into light of the dark black night.

---

This one is based on song called 'Blackbird'. A couple of artists covered it, but it's originally sung by the Beatles.

Please feel free to ask questions or whatever.

[kahem]

I'm a bit confused but it's so sad T_T

[RenaChii]

un . . . so sad~

[dukkong]

LOL this is totally random but I feel like more and more Sones are becoming AKB fans. Well at least I'm one of them >< Still as nice as the first time I've read it.

[Kiri-el]

Unfortunately I can not express what I feel now. Too difficult... only succeed in my native language.

But this story is perfect! It's painful, but somehow... there is hope, love and life. Light in the darkness. Warmth in the cold.

Sorry if I'm too sentimental, but now I feel much. Therefore I like to read. For these feelings for.

Thank you for this fic!

[gekikarabuACE]

@kahem - Ah, sorry. I tend to be vague when I write. Basically, what happened was that Rena was there at the hospital all along because she was patient herself - a terminal one at that.

@RenaChii - I think this would the be the perfect time to come out with those angsty WMatsui fics seeing as it's pretty much dead.  RenAirin is pretty the much all the rage nowadays.

@dukkong - Lol, you got me~!  It actually took me a year of calling myself an SNSD fan before I decided to stop lurking and sign up at their forum a few of years ago. With AKB, it took me a couple of months shorter than that. I don't really write fics anymore, but some stories are just begging to be written.

@Kiri-el - Thank you for reading my fic. I'm glad I've made you feel all the emotions I was hoping to convey when I wrote this.

[SharkAttack]

FFFFFffff- NEVER!!! I will NEVER jump ships!! *raeg* 

That was a very beautiful story, by the way. Lol
Is there a specific illness that Rena had?

[ShibuyaDokiDoki]

This story... it's just something that I can't just playfully talk about... I don't know if I'm over analyzing but it has something that I haven't seen in a while.

It makes me imagine so much lol~

It's painful yet beautiful. Something I can't quite describe... lol

Please do continue writing. I would love to read more. (O 3 O)

[Sok]

Amazing.
It's very sad yet beautiful. It made me wanna cry.
I hope you continue to write. 

[Seigus]

Really touching. A blossoming relationship that was never meant to last.

Your writing is beautiful with just the right amount of details and interesting interactions between Jurina and Rena. Thanks for writing this story. RenAirin may be the popular pairing now but I still love my WMatsui.

I would love to read more works from you. Please write again when inspiration hits

[gekikarabuACE]

@SharkAttack: Lol! Well, WMatsui's showing some signs of life these past few days, so it might not be as dead as I think. As for the specific illness, I guess somewhere along the lines of leukemia is what I had in mind.

@ShibuyaDokiDoki: I doubt you're over-analyzing things. One of my biggest fault in writing is that I never say things directly. Somehow, I always try to bury it beneath the layers and layers of metaphors that I end up confusing my readers.

@Sok: Thanks for reading this. The song which I based this from is actually beautifully sad/sadly beautiful as well. I guess that's where all the emotions came from.

@seigus: Ah, thanks. I'm thinking about picking up the pen again, so to speak, I'm still not completely sure.

@HashirePomeranian: Thanks for coming back to comment. To tell you the truth, this isn't exactly my usual style of writing. It was something I just experimented on back then. First-person perspective is a bit hard for me to do because like I've said up there, I can never say things directly. Lol! I'm more about word-plays and nuances when presenting emotions, so yeah, it gets tedious. And sometimes not everyone really understands it. Might be one of the reasons why I stopped writing. 

[ShibuyaDokiDoki]

Well I'm not really confused as I love to read stories like this. It gives me a wider area to imagine. I love it.

Not always telling everything straight out is what makes it interesting and unique. Please do continue writing if its not too much to ask.

I have become a fan. ♥

[Megumi]

This is great really really great OS!

[gekikarabuACE]

“The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.”
-C.S. Lewis

It doesn’t exist.

It hasn’t, for a long while now.

No one really knows how it all started, just that it did. At some point or another, they all began to deem it useless, and to some, even annoying. When they realized that anything and everything can – and will – be bought, and morality can actually be measured by the amount of spare change they could dig up in their dirty pockets, they had eagerly decided to throw it out the window. The world definitely had no need for it. It doesn’t feed you, nor will it keep you alive – not in a nasty dog-eat-dog world such as this. Human nature, after all, has always dictated the survival of the fittest.

And it was, by its own definition, nothing but a weakness.

In a place where crime and corruption drive the society, and sex, drugs, and violence are the way of life, something as pure and whimsical as that doesn’t anymore exist…

Except for the people of the lie. 

* * *

One.

A world like theirs needs no room for affection.

She, herself, can attest to that.

Day in and day out, as she sifts through the bloodied mess, she sees with her own two eyes just how much these people can be ruthless.

Despicable criminals, the whole lot of them. They’re all the same. Everyone deserves whatever agonizing demise fate has coming for them. After all, she doubts if those delinquents even felt an ounce of affection when they decided to rob and kill a child’s family for measly change….

Apathy is necessary when insanity is staring right at her face.

Thank God she has mastered it down to an art.

The trial is unfair where affection is the judge.

* * *

Two.

People can live and breed without friendship.

And she has her own creative ways of knowing that.

She has seen it all.

Well, maybe not all, but still enough know that in this society, everyone is a firm subscriber of quid pro quo. They are all in it for something. Whether that person be a trophy wife of a philandering billionaire husband, or a hard-nosed associate of that insufferable, scheming executive, they all want the same thing: leverage. And leverage? Well, she can provide that…

For a fee, of course.

Friendship?

Nah, that doesn’t exist here. No one cares about friendship. Or trust, for that matter. It’s every man for himself around here.

The lenses do not lie.

Only people do.   

There are no real friends in this world, only real enemies.

Friendship isn’t anything but mere make-believe.

* * *

Three.

It’s not possible for people to fall in love.

Unless that person is trying to crawl his way into another person’s pants, then that might just be the case.

Pathetic, she thinks, but it’s always interesting to see the extent of what people will go to, just to bed someone.

Not true for her, though. She never did like these euphemisms everyone is so fond of using. Unlike these pretentious little prudes and pricks, she isn’t ashamed to admit that she’s purely in it for the fun.

A ‘relationship’, she truly believes, is nothing more than having an instant bedmate – someone to warm your bed until the next interesting person comes along. It’s not her fault if there’s always another interesting person sharing her bed every single night.

What was it that they always say? About loneliness always having a way of breaking even the most logical of reasonings apart?

Well, she knows a few, more thrilling ways to break that.

Love is entirely magical, and it’s only the ignorant fools who fall for such storybook illusions.

* * *

Four.

Everything in this world is beyond redemption.

She has given up all hope for any semblance of salvation a long time ago. In the end, everyone in this world is just the same.

Even her.

Theirs is a society which needs no angels, she has belatedly understood, and the only way to rid the world of its evil is to become evil herself. And now behind every sweet word and underneath her pretty face, there hides a girl who is undoubtedly just as… ugly as the rest of human race.

Oh, the irony of it all.

But what’s done is done.  She has long since accepted the fact that she’s already beyond deliverance now.

Eternal damnation only awaits her.

These days, she spends most of the time wondering when it will finally be her turn to writhe and plead as she bleeds…

Just like this guy lying face down by her feet.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

* * *

A/N: This fic is supposed to be a short series of one-shots I discarded for another fandom, which I've decided to revive here. Still not sure how this is going to turn out though, so yeah, I apologize in advance.

Fair warning: Whatever you think this is... it's not it. 

[Kiri-el]

I really don't know what to think... but I love the way you write, it's enough for me to read anything you write. Then I decide what I think about it...

[luna]

Blackbird
Uh...somehow, this story is leaving a painful yet warm feeling. It is like, holding into a things you cant possibly have but you cant help but to try to hold it. Things like how you are so eager bout knowing the truth but once you know it, it wasnt something that you wanted it to be. Then you have to deal with the truth...you wonder how you should do it. But, despite that, still thinking that the truth itself wast so bad.

People of Lie
Wah? o__O i dont know what i should say...like wow.
Friendship isn’t anything but mere make-believe. Then...it is a world where people could fake almost everything. There are times when i flatly said that statement like this wasnt true. And there are times when i said that it is true.

Love is entirely magical, and it’s only the ignorant fools who fall for such storybook illusions. There are people that didnt mind being a fool sometimes. Then again, love is things beyond my fully understanding. So..maybe it is true?

The road to hell is paved with good intentions. ah? in the end, the destination is still hell...isnt it?

You are like....trolling my mind in a good way, i suppose. I like the way you write, it is painful...yet good, because at the same time, it makes me thinking stuffs...sorry, i am blabbering oddly right now. What i want to say is, i would like to read the continuation
sankyuu for the mind trolling though, no really, sankyuu

[kahem]

Wo it seems really dark and deep.

[Pwoper48]

The way you write this story is good. Even though i'm a little confused the first time i read it. But i like it 

 

[48matama]

THIS IS JUST PERFECT

[Kirozoro]

Update please