- Created By MikazukiYuki
Exhale
(The Memoirs of Mizukawa Yoshiro, student at BASRC) Part One: Before Arrival Chapter One Introductions…I hate them. I really, really don’t like introductions, and I suck ass at writing them. So, I’ll ...Darkest Days
(a.k.a. BASRC’s Search for A New Headmaster, 10 years before the start of "The Balkan Academy For Society's Rejected Children") Prologue The sun had only moments ago slipped behind the Balkan Mountains in Bulgaria, shad...Dusty Skies Over Paradise
Intro--Their Story To Tell I The middle-aged redhead shifted in his seat nervously. It was not often that the owner of this home returned calls, and even less often that he extended invitations to his home…Especially p...Farewell
-A Tribute to Friendship Lost-
The airport hummed and buzzed with the sounds and activity of the crowd of commuters, but two did not join in the hustle or the conversations. They just stood silently staring at each other; nether yielding, neither closing the distance for a final hug...Neither attempting to break the wall of ice that had come between them. Not far behind either of the teenage boys was a group of friends (one there to catch a flight, the other there for moral support), each waiting for one of the two. However, none of them spoke, no one dared to interrupt--they knew it wasn't their place.
"So..." the taller of the two began, but he stopped short at the awkwardness.
The other picked up on this, and, out of habit that he had yet to get over, spared him the embarrassment by finishing the sentence for him. "I suppose this is it," he said quietly.
"Yeah." Despite his low volume and the surrounding noise, his voice carried to the other's ears easily. After all, it was once the only voice he ever listened to.
Nearby, their mothers conversed.
"Ryo...There's no other way, is there?"
"No, Penni, there isn't. They can't reconcile; nothing works. The only thing left is to get them apart."
"You're prepared to give up on everything you and Lea have built up for yourselves here?"
"Of course. Wouldn't you do the same for your son? Besides, Lea's getting the itch to travel again. He was going to wait until Haru was eighteen, but...Well, now he figures 'the sooner the better'."
"...If you say so..."
"..."
The intercom announced that the plane would be departing in five minutes, so the two of them, once the best of friends, gave each other a quick hug. Then Ryo picked up her suitcase and ran to catch her flight, shouting to her son as she passed.
"Haru-kun, hurry it up or you'll miss the plane!"
He nodded in acknowledgment to her, then turned back to his ex-best-friend, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
"I guess that's my cue. I gotta get goin'."
The ex-best-friend swallowed the lump in his throat so he could speak. "Right..."
Haru looked like he wanted to say something, but turned on his heel and walked off instead. He was soon with his group of (new) friends, older teens and young adults who had decided they wanted to see the world with him and who didn't have parents to tell them 'no'. They conversed among themselves for a moment, then they all began to board the plane.
The one left behind was almost overcome with emotion, but a calm and gentle hand on his shoulder allowed him to regain control over himself.
"C'mon, Rei..." the owner of the hand quietly urged from behind him.
Rei looked over his shoulder at the group of people who had taken time out of their lives to come here with him. These were the ones who had either remained neutral during or come along after "the blowout", as their neighbors called it. There was also the very few who had supported him from the beginning, the ones who were there for (or, perhaps, had even been a factor of) "the blowout". He wanted to much to join them and get out of here, to begin his new, Haru-less life. And yet...
He turned back towards the plane, seeing the one person he once would've died for on the steps leading into/onto it. Any moment now, he'd be gone...Probably forever.
"Wait!" Rei called out.
As those sparkling emerald eyes turned on him one last time, Rei forgot the speech he had planned to say--how he didn't blame him, how it was really all his own fault, that he was still free to call any time he wanted, how much he'd be missed--so he had to settle for two little words instead. "...Farewell, Haru."
Haru smirked (Oh, Gods, how he had once loved that smirk) and said "...Goodbye, Rei."
Everything seemed to go in slow motion as Haru turned and boarded the plane. He felt the hands tugging on him and the voices calling his name, but he couldn't react. His vision suddenly blurred, but he immediately reached up and wiped his eyes on his long sleeve. He'd shed his tears for Haru, for himself, and for their friendship, and he refused to shed more.
He finally let his friends and family drag him out of the airport. Just as they were about to climb into Penni's old and rusted VW Bus, he heard a jet engine roar as the plane took off. He couldn't stop himself from looking up at it and watching it vanish into the distant blue horizon.
The lost words, the unanswered questions [Where did we go wrong? What should I have done to avoid this? Was this even avoidable, or was it fate?] died and stuck in his throat. He could only conjure one thought, a lame repetition of his last words to the one who had, once upon a time, been his entire life.
Farewell, Haru.
-Fin
Usomitaina "I Love You"
I see the nearly living mass of thorns shift, then begin to uncoil. However, the ones binding me in place do not loosen. A quick glance to the side assures me you are still bound to a column; the black things have not released you, either.
The thorns begin to weave themselves together, and soon they have weaved into one long, thorny ‘spear’, and it rears up, like a serpent about to strike.
That is when the reality of the situation hits me. I can tell you are picking up on it, too, because you start to struggle more.
“Just sit back and watch,” I hear the heartless controller of the thorns say to you. “Enjoy the show.”
“Like hell!” I hear you shout. You almost free yourself, but more thorns snake their way around you to hold you firmly in place.
So I am the one…the intended target.
I am going to die here, and there is nothing anyone can do about it.
At first, bitterness fills my thoughts. Well, finally. About damn time. Now I can get out of your life and you can be happy for a change. I can get out of everyone’s life, and things will be better for them.
But…
A sadness creeps into my mind.
I will never see you again. I will never hear your laugh, see your smile, or dry your tears again. I will never again have the opportunity to get lost in your eyes, or talk to you about your problems (or mine). I will never be in your arms again, safe in your warm embrace.
I will never get to tell you the truth.
The thorns binding me in place pull my arms back to expose my chest and abdomen, giving the spiny javelin a clear target.
I hear you shouting my name. Your voice is pained, frantic. Or maybe I am just imagining it.
I turn my head toward you because I am unable to turn more of my body. I speak your name, my voice little more than a whisper, with as much reverence as I can muster. I try to continue, but the thorns around my neck tighten, cutting of my air supply. Tears well up in my eyes--Now I will really never get to tell you.
I hear the plant mass before me shift, and I snap my head back toward it. Though my vision is blurred, I can tell it is pulling back, preparing to impale me.
I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself. In the seconds of waiting that follow, I begin to think a thought over and over.
I was once told that if one thinks loud and hard enough, those close to them will hear it. Praying that is true, I think the thought like a chanted mantra as I wait for the end.
It is a truth you already know, but one I have not told you myself…one I have never said out loud. Is it reaching you now? Or are my efforts in vain?
Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyou--
A soft whooshing noise, a slight breeze.
Pain.
An agonizing, excruciating, ripping and tearing pain.
I cannot bear to open my eyes, and I do not need to; your screams tell me everything I need to know. I feel something catch me, but I have no idea what--it may be the thorns, for all I can gather.
Soon, the pain fades, and all that is left is an unbreakable silence and a strange but not unpleasant feeling of draining, of becoming clean.
There is blood…a lot of it. I know this because I feel the warm ichor gushing over my arms, and what is left of my abdomen and chest.
After a moment, even the draining goes away, and I begin to feel empty, but again the feeling is not bad. I feel my heart beating slower, and it is becoming harder and harder to breathe…And suddenly something penetrates the silence.
I hear you calling me, calling my name, begging me not to go. You sound so far away…It could be that you actually are, or maybe it is the cathedral; earlier we joked about how we could be standing right next to each other in here and still sound miles apart. Far away or not, I can still hear the tears choking your voice. Hearing those tears brings fresh ones of my own.
I want to answer your call, to tell you not to cry for me, but I cannot. I finally force my eyes open and see the cathedral’s ceiling for the first (and last) time.
It shows a scene of what must be Heaven, with two angels embracing, one with red wings, the other with black or perhaps dark blue wings. Despite everything, I smile. The angels, now disappearing from my vision, look just like us.
As the nothingness of death sets in, everything begins to drift away from me. But I cling to any thoughts, memories, and feelings of you, refusing to let them go. Now I see nothing, feel virtually nothing, know almost nothing…and I can no longer hear your voice.
As I fade, I wonder if my words reached you. Just in case they did not I shall dedicate my last thought to them, to you.
…I love you…
-Fin-
