andsotheintrovertwrites

[andsotheintrovertwrites]

a seat in the theatre (2022)

chapter 1 i guess? i haven’t posted writing in SO LONG

(ignore the confusion about names pls i will fix it after nano)

((also i know maybe only one or two people will even read but thank u ilu))

“Link, you go first.”

“Do- do I have to?”

“No, I’m just asking politely and if you feel uncomfortable we’ll just head out to Chuck-E-Cheese’s. Fucking go.”

The first of them stumbles through the front door in terror, which is amusing. What is even more amusing is the rest of them, following behind like scared children.

“We’re really not supposed to be here,” a third speaker in the back pipes up.

“No shit, name2. That’s the whole point, remember?” the first one snaps. These are the ones that typically get the most scared, but I suppose I’ll just have to find out.

The group, five of them including their human shield, clutching at each others’ backs—except their apparent offering to whatever they believe resides here; they were careful to always stay a few steps back—inches forward as a unit, past the foyer, through the looming open gateway, gathering around the topmost row of seats of the mezzanine to shine their lights down towards the stage. This could very well be my chance.

The forest green curtain blocks any view of the actual stage, so I sneak down from the box above where I could spy on the intruders. Remaining in the protection of the shadows, I glide up the stairs to the stage, never making a sound. I’m quite good at being quiet. Behind the curtain now, I can hear their footsteps cautiously attempt the stairs, so I begin to sing slowly.

“Oft in the stilly night,

“Ere slumber’s chain has bound me,”

“What the fuck?” the first voice says.

“It sounds like…” a new voice, the fourth of the group, begins, “like static?”

“No, more like humming,” the final member of the group finally speaks, voice breaking on the last word. Now I can categorize all of them.

“Fond mem’ry brings the light,

Not moving even a tick, they continue to argue about what they are experiencing.

“It’s like a deranged radio.”

“What the hell does that mean, name3?” the apparent boss of the group bites.

“I just—”

“Never mind, I don’t want to hear it,” he sighs, and encourages the group to keep moving with a shove. Someone stumbles and yells ‘hey!’

When I hear that they’ve gotten about halfway down the stairs, at least close enough to see some of the details in the curtain, I take a step forward.

“Of other days a round me!

I begin singing a bit louder than before.

“Oh my god, guys, what is that sound?!”

“I don’t know, but I really think we need to get out of here. Name1, please?”

“You guys are all acting like pussies. What are you going to do when we actually have to spend time and perform here?” Mr. Boss eggs them on. So, this is the next group. I have trouble remembering when the last one was here.

I wait to hear them begin to move again, and sing my next line.

“The smiles, the tears, of childhood’s years,”

With the last word, I throw my hand into the curtain and it lurches out at them, earning me a few gasps and one or two yelps. Satisfied, I slip out from behind the curtain and hurry back up to the boxes where I have a better perspective.

“Jesus, we really need to get the fuck out of here.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to think all the rumours aren’t just rumours…”

“Shut UP, you guys,” Mr. Boss snarls at them, shoving his human shield forward once again.

To act so tough yet be such a coward. This man wouldn’t even dream of coming here alone, without his posse who seems to hang on his every word. How much of this group, I wonder, is the same as him deep down? Which of them will fight, flight, freeze? This is the most fascinating part of it all. I cannot help but chuckle to myself at the thought, and surprisingly enough, the shield gazes up towards the box as the rest have no reaction. This gives me an idea.

“The words of love then spoken,” Now they are all looking up, attempting to find the source of the returning noise. However, no light is shone in my direction. Sinking back into the shadows, I pull down the seat next to me and let go, allowing it to snap back up into its folded state. With another few yells, their lights finally search the boxes frantically. I know they likely have no idea of the words I sing, but I sing louder nonetheless.

“The eyes, that shone,” Divine timing is on my side today, and as I sing this line, a light dances across my face, briefly illuminating my eyes. The entire group gasps and jumps Before the light can return, I duck down behind the seats.

“now dimm’d and gone;”

“What the fuck was that?” one of them cries.

“You guys all saw that too, right?”

“Yeah, but—”

“WHAT WAS IT?” Mr. Boss shrieks in a moment of weakness, and amusingly enough, no one reacts to his sudden change of character.

“It looked like eyes?” one of them pipes up, and they all go quiet for a beat.

“Oh shit,” the shield finally speaks up. “eyes that shone…” My heart launches into my throat. It had to have been a coincidence.

“Stop being a freak, freak,” the bossy one says, ruining any chance of finding out what he may have meant by that. “Just keep going, please.” He spits the last word.

“The cheerful hearts now broken!” I sing from my hiding place.

“Fuck,” I hear one of the exclaim.

“Keep. GOING,” he repeats.

“Are you serious, man?” the third boy of the group says.

“Guys, what did I say before?” the bossy one asserts, and I once again hear their footsteps stop. “You’ve heard the rumours, and it’s because those other people were scared out of their minds and couldn’t perform worth shit. I swear that’s going to happen to us if we don’t just figure out what’s really going on here.”

A few beats go by. It seems he’s won his case again. Silently, the group begins to walk again, finally closing the distance from them to the stage. As I hear them hop up on the stage, I decide it’s safe to emerge from hiding and watch them again. I sing again, but softer this time. They likely will hear me as nothing but wind rustling through the skeleton of the theatre’s attic.

“Thus in the stilly night,”

Just as I suspected, none of them react. Although the shield does pause for a second, once again making me wonder whether it could possibly be a coincidence. So I raise my volume ever so slightly.

“Ere slumber’s chain has bound me,”

Once again, none of the others react, but the shield tilts his head in my direction briefly. But then he is back with the rest, shining lights around the stage and admiring the beauty of the theatre from the actors’ perspective for the first time. It reminds me of the first time I felt that excitement; the warmth as if your heart will explode from the realization you’ve just found your home. You’ve found somewhere you belong.

“Sad mem’ry brings the light,

“Of other days around me.”

I sing these lines louder than before—loud enough to garner a head turn from a couple of the other, more attentive, members of the group. Along with Shield, of course. I can’t help but gaze as their lights dance along the walls, the wood carved accents hugging the perimeter of the walls and ceiling. It has been a while since I saw them in such light. I really don’t think about it much anymore.

Breaking that daydream, one of the attentive ones squeaks, “That sound is really freaking me out now.”

“What sound?” the bossy one scoffs. Maybe now I will get to hear more of what Shield is perceiving.

“It’s like—like radio static? But like the static is the song?” the original protestor explains.

“Static?” Shield says, but is immediately spoken over by the bossy one.

“There’s no fucking static, guys. Get a grip.” What a stubborn coward. He almost feels like the personification of an oxymoron.

“Seriously, we want to go,” the protestor continues arguing, signalling that the group’s composure has begun to deteriorate.

“We haven’t even explored most of the theatre yet. You guys are being really annoying.” You can practically hear the eye roll in his voice. But you can also hear the uncertainty.

“Ugh, fine.” They give in and search around for a backstage door.

“That’s more like it,” the bossy one says, regaining some of the unearned confidence he was exuding before. “There’s the boxes…” He hops down off the stage and duck right before his light reaches the box I am watching them from. As quickly as it came, it swings back towards the stage, and I peek up from behind my seat. “Backstage…” Finally, he shines his light up at the ceiling. I do not like where this is going. “I heard there’s even a spooky old attic,” he deepens his voice and sings the last three words.

Alright, my observation seems to have reached its end. I wasn’t really in the mood for visitors in the first place. One of them finds a backstage door to the right of the stage, and shouts to the others that they’ve discovered a way forward. One by one, they pile through the door and discover the [room right outside the stage where actors wait to go on], leading into the dressing room. There really isn’t a good place for me to spy on them there, not having been in the room already when they entered, so I think I should get them out.

I take a deep breath, and begin to belt out,

“When I remember all

“The friends, so link’d together,”

“HOLY SHIT,” I hear the bossy one scream. It seems like there is static, after all.

They all run back out onto the stage, a couple of them with lights jumping down and fumbling them around at ground level. The shield leads the group, but this time it seems to be his own choice.

“What?” he exclaims.

“Guys, we need to leave!” someone else yells.

“NO,” Mr. Bossy yells again, this time garnering an eye roll from me. Such a stubborn coward. “T-there’s—it’s nothing.” Is that so?

“I feel like one, who treads alone,

“Some banquet hall deserted,” I belt.

“Guys, those are words—” Shield says, louder than he had ever been. “It said my name.” And more panicked—as panicked as I became to hear him say that. I really need them to leave.

“SHUT UP, FREAK,” the bossy one shrieks, shedding the last shred of his ‘tough man’ exterior.

“Can we leave?!” “Yes, PLEASE,” “We have to go,” the others all yell over each other, as half of them begin running up the stairs from which they came. I sigh in relief.

“Whose lights are fled, whose garland’s dead,” I practically yell, which I can only imagine sounds like nails on a chalkboard on the inside of your head. The last two—the bossy one, who had completely frozen in fear; and one of the girls—finally snap out of their stupor and flee along with their friends.

But of course, the shield remains. The look on his face is not exactly fear, but a mix between that and bewilderment. He stands at the bottom of the stairs, gazing up toward my box, but I do not hide. He keeps his light off, leaving the two of us to stare at each other.

“And all, but he, departed,” I sing softly, but loud enough to reach him.

He stays very still where he stands, but I swear he looks right at me. Or, more like right through me. We stay like that for what feels like a very long time. My hands start to tremble as the reality of the situation sinks in. At this point, I only continue singing because I haven’t a single comprehensible thought in my mind.

“Thus in the stilly night,

“Ere slumber’s chain has bound me,”

He stays frozen still, so I frantically fly down the stairs, creating enough noise to shock him out of his trance and I hear his footsteps finally retreat. Peeking out from around the wall, I see that he’s stopped right at the front door, once again gazing back in my direction.

I continue, though I can barely remember how to use my voice anymore,

“Sad mem’ry brings the light,”

Finally, he throws the door open and runs, and for a moment, the brightness from the street floods in and blinds me. The door slams shut and I take a few seconds to try to understand what just happened. I thought it would be like all the other times. I thought I would be invisible once again. But that kid, the shield, was not a regular performer. Not fight, flight, nor freeze. Someone who pays more attention to the outside world than the one constructed in their head. It has been a long, long time since I have met someone of the type.

And it seems that he will be around again.

“Of other days around me.”

[andsotheintrovertwrites]

Thinking of You

I was walking across campus with a friend, heading back to his place after we’d eaten dinner. It was nighttime already, not exactly late, but the clocks had just changed and winter had just started to approach, meaning the sun had been long set and we were looking at the stars. I can’t recall what we were talking about before, but I very clearly remember that he asked me if I was tired. I must have gone quiet for a bit too long. I told him yes, I was, since I’d barely slept the night before. His voice softened and he asked me why. In that moment, the only thing I could say before changing the subject was that I didn’t know.

I couldn’t get out the words “I was thinking of you”.

[andsotheintrovertwrites]

Lost

"I'd be lost without you" Is a phrase I always lived by Since we became close

Still nothing is truer Never in my life Have I felt more lost

[andsotheintrovertwrites]

It Only Takes a Meowment

A little spin-off to my nanovel I wanted to write so I could be with my characters again <3 and hopefully it’ll get me back into the actual story again...

 “Pleeeease please please please please?”

 “Haruki, for the millionth time, I said no. We are not getting one.”

 “Aww, Kou, please? Look at him, he’s so lonely…” Haru presses his face upagainst the glass with wide eyes and an even wider smile.

 Against my will I was dragged to this shop inone of the many nooks of the city. “I don’t care. We don’t have room.” Impatient and afraid that looking at his puppy-dog face any longer will make me cave, I glance away and force myself to be interested in the exterior of the shop. Fitting to this old part of the city and the narrow street it sits on, the building looks like it must have been here for at least sixty years. Bricks stacked upon bricks that have been chipped away at and worn down over the years are what make up the outer walls. The rusty metal door sits to the far right, looking like it might fall off of its hinges any second. A large, worn glass display window, clouded around the edges and scratched in the middle, fixed right next to it. It appears that, at some point down the line, someone tried to modernize the place and covered the bricks with a sloppy white paint job. It didn’t work.

 The paint is chipped and peeling, but even like that I can easily imagine what it must have looked like when it was fresh. The white doesn’t suit the atmosphere at all; the rest of the street has an aged look to it, as if it’s something you would see in a black and white film.

 Small outdoor grocers, convenience stores, and other little shops selling anything from handmade goods to furniture dot either side of the street, along with a few short apartments that would be considered a waste of space to build these days. Bigger is better, after all.

 I’ve never been to this area before, despite having lived here my entire life. It has an almost relaxing feel to it, like I could walk down the sidewalk and everyone would already know my name. Everything is homey and fits together like a puzzle- except for this goddamn building. I’m almost tempted to start peeling off the rest of the paint myself in large flakes, before I’m brought back to my senses by a sudden movement to my side. “Haruki?”

 He’s fallen to his knees in front of the glass, and responds with, “I’m weak. I can’t leave without him.”

 “I told you,” I sigh, “we don’t have room. We can’t just spontaneously do something like this.”

 “He can sleep in my bed, I promise! I’ll feed him and clean up after him…” Haruki continues begging, now pulling at my sleeve. Twenty-five years old and he never acts any older than a ten year old. Especially when he wants something. And this is something he wants desperately.

 “Listen, Haru, we just moved into our new apartment. Can’t we settle in and think about this before we make a decision? A decision as big as that?” I don’t even want to enter the place, let alone bring a piece of it home with us.

 But of course, Haru has other plans. “Nope.” In a second, he’s up on his feet and dragging me through the door until the sun-faded sign outside the shop that reads “Pet Shelter” is no longer visible.

 “How did you even find this place?” I ask quietly, suddenly feeling like the homey atmosphere from before has disappeared. The inside is like a completely different world from the outside. It’s just as run down: paint peeling off the walls; light fixtures gently swaying back and forth, casting moving shadows over the chairs and front desk; water stains on the ceiling that resemble splatters of- well, maybe that’s a bit too morbid for a rescue shelter. But still. It’s eerie, like we just stepped into an off-limits zone. I feel tense and have the overwhelming need to check over my shoulder every few seconds. Definitely not a nice feel for a place you would adopt a pet from.

 Haru, completely oblivious to the change in atmosphere, turns to me and smiles. “I searched online because I wanted to find the perfect place.” Perfect? This is what he considers perfect? “Oh stop it with the shifty eyes, would ya? Lighten up. It’s a certified pet shelter. It might look sketchy but it’s really not; I promise you that.”

 “If you say so…” One more look around tells me something that I missed the first time. “Does anyone even work here?”

 Haruki blinks a few times and then his head is swinging around in search of some employee. Maybe, if I’m lucky, there’ll be no one here and we’ll leave fur-free. I mean, I already have enough to deal with, being roommates with Haru. I don’t need something else in the house that bites.

 Not surprisingly, I’m not that lucky. It seems like I never am. “Welcome to my shop!” A tall man emerges from the back room and greets us in a singsong-voice, causing me to jump and Haru to laugh in turn. “Can I help you boys?” The man addresses us again, his voice deep and sounding amused. His features are sharp and don’t suit the everlasting smile on his face that is way too exaggerated for my liking. The corners of his mouth stay creased as he holds his expression, waiting for one of us to answer.

 Haru seems to be a bit confused by the man as well, but he finds his words quicker than I can. “Uh, yeah. We’re looking for a-”

 “AHHH,” the man cuts him off, levitating towards us with large strides, “I saw you admiring our kittens in the front. Could you be thinking about bringing one home? One, two, three, perhaps?” His smile grows as his face inches toward Haru’s and his ears perk up a few times in interest. That, plus his neatly combed and swept to the side ginger hair, almost reminds me of an animal…

 “Um,” Haru backs up a little with a nervous laugh, “y-yeah. Uh, one is ok, right Kou?” He looks to me with his eyebrows raised, mouth curled up in an uncomfortable smile.

 “I mean, I’d rather not have any…” I mutter and the shopkeeper coughs- at least, I think it was a cough. The sound rumbled in his throat and could have passed off as a growl. Avoiding his beady stare, I find Haruki pouting at me. For the love of- “I guess we can look at them, if it’ll make you happy.” I cave a little.

 Hope shining in his eyes, Haru turns back to the shopkeeper who’s already reaching into the front pocket of his striped apron. When he looks back at us, his eyes have softened. “Do you want to give them treats?” he asks with another one of those unsettling smiles.

 “Yes!” Haruki practically jumps up and down and he’s already shot his hand out for the treat way faster than any normal human should be able to. Half the treats in hand, I can tell he’s almost shaking with excitement.

 “Would you like to try, too?” The shopkeeper asks me, holding the treats closer.

 I wave my hand at the offer. “No, you can give them all to him. I’ll watch from a safe distance.” Content with my choice, Haruki takes the rest of the treats and sways in place slightly, eager to get a move on. The shopkeeper’s eyes linger on me for a moment too long, and I think I catch them twitch just for a second.

 Before I can process anything, though, he ushers us back to the front of the shop where the kittens are napping in the sun flooding through the window. For a while I just stand a few feet away, watching Haru’s lit up face as he feeds the little fur balls. Every now and then the shopkeeper will glance back at me with narrowed eyes, before directing his attention back to the cats. What is with this guy?

 “Oh, Kou, this one! This is the one!” Haruki breaks me out of my thoughts. All of the other cats seemed to have lost interest in Haru, but one has remained close to him, sitting right up against the enclosure and purring in satisfaction as he strokes its fur. His voice is dreamy as he asks the shopkeeper permission to pick up the kitten. Wishes granted with a single slow nod, he reaches down and carefully scoops up the small creature, cradling it lovingly in his arms.

 “This one is a lovely little boy,” the tall man tells us, folding his hands together in front of him. “He has all of his vaccines and he’s perfectly healthy- and he’s neutered. All of his records are up to date.” He pauses and his expression softens at Haruki’s caring gaze at the cat. “He just needs a name.”

 Another minute of cuddling goes by and all hope of leaving this place without an animal drains away. There is no way in hell Haruki is putting that cat down.

 “Kou-chan, he’s perfect. Look, he’s purring and he likes me. He’s the one I saw outside and I couldn’t look away. He’s perfect.” Stepping closer to me, Haruki continues to mutter little compliments at the cat in his arms. I try to conspicuously back away, but Haru gets faster and I can feel the edge of the front desk digging into my back.

 “Haru, I don’t think you should-” My protest is cut off by three consecutive sneezes. When they end I hold my hand out, warning him not to come any closer. The shopkeeper’s eyes narrow, then widen as his lips part slightly before finally twisting into a smirk, undetected by Haruki.

 “Are you sick, Kou?” Haru tilts his head to the side, brows furrowing together in concern.

 “Yeah, that’s it,” I sigh.

 Still smirking at me, the shopkeeper claps his hands together. “I think this cat should belong to you two. Give him a home?” This guy thinks he’s so sly.

 “Can we, Kou?” Haruki asks gently. “Can we get him?” The cat’s head peeks up from behind Haru’s arm and stares at me. He’s tiny and has long brown and black fur with white legs and a white belly. When he tilts his head to the side, I find myself thinking how well he suits Haruki. He is really cute…

 “…Fine. We’ll get him.” I can’t say no to my best friend. Not when he’s this excited.

 “Excellent!” The shopkeeper’s voice rings and bounces off the wall, echoing in the room.

 The next hour is a blur to me: signing papers, being lectured about care and health, Haruki muttering thank you to me probably thirty times- not to mention I was being stared down the whole time with beady eyes and creepy smirk. What have I gotten myself into?

 “…and remember to feed him three times a day, but don’t leave the food out for him all the time. Keep his water bowl filled.” The man lists rule after rule off and I’m certain Haruki is making a mental note of every exact word he says. “It may take him a little while to get used to being in a new environment, so let him explore. Make sure there are no dangerous objects around, as well. Got it?”

 “I do! I remember everything.” Haru nods briskly and sticks his fingers into the front of the brand new carrier. The cat reaches up a furry paw and swats playfully at him. The sheer joy in his face is impossible to miss and even brings a smile to mine.

 Sniffling a few times after sneezing again, I ignore the look I’m sure the shopkeeper is giving me. “Have you thought of a name, yet?”

 “A name?” Haruki stops and thinks for a moment, concentration written all over his expression. Then the lightbulb goes off and with a small gasp, he looks back at me with the most determination I’ve ever seen him show. “Yama?”

 “Yama? As in Japanese for “mountain”?” For someone who’s always lived in North America and never studied his own ethnic background before recently, Haruki is really getting into it.

 “This guy is little now, but one day he’ll be big and strong. He’ll be able to climb mountains or anything!” he laughs.

 “Alright, little Yama it is.” I smile and watch as he gently picks up the carrier and thanks the shopkeeper for everything. Finally off on his merry way, Haruki pushes the door open and skips outside, singing to himself. Typical.

 I’m on my way out too, when a hand closes around my upper arm and sends a chill up my spine.

 “I knew there was something off about you, boy,” the man behind me practically snarls in my ear. “You’re allergic, aren’t you?”

 That’s why he’s been looking at me funny this whole time? He somehow sniffed out my weakness? “Uh, yeah.” I nod and try to pull my arm from his grip- in vain. All I’m greeted with is a booming laugh that rings in my ears.

 “Why come to a pet shelter, then? Why adopt a cat?” I turn my face slightly and, sure enough, he’s smirking again.

 “Because he’s my best friend,” I snap, yanking my arm back. “And if I ever have the pleasure to see you again,” I turn away, pushing the door open, “don’t tell him I’m allergic. It’ll make him feel guilty.”

 Before the door shuts behind me completely, I catch him say, “What a good friend you are,” and more of his amused laughter.

 Jogging to catch up, I call out to Haruki. “What took you so long?” he asks.

 “He just… Wanted to tell me a few things. Things he forgot to mention before,” I lie.

 “You really are a good friend, Kou. The best best friend!” He smiles warmly and I can’t help but think that he might have heard the conversation I just had. I wouldn’t be surprised if he did- he is Haruki, after all. “Thank you for letting me take him home. I’m so excited!”

 “I guess that’s all that matters,” I sigh. “But that guy was such a… Such a fox. His shop doesn’t fit in with its surroundings, and I’m sure he doesn’t fit in with all the people here. I’ve never met someone so creepy in my life.”

 “He didn’t seem to like you at all,” Haru chuckles. “He was kind of freaky, I’ll give you that. But at least we’re done dealing with him, right? And we’ve got our cute kitten!” He sounds giddy just saying that last part.

 “Yeah, you’re right.” I loosen up a little at the thought. “So, we’ve got our little guard cat,” I pat the carrier in his hands, earning a small mew from inside, “what now?”

 His mouth curls into a smile in amusement. “Now, we’re going to the drug store to get you allergy medicine. Then we’re going to be spending some quality time with our Yama.”

 “Our Yama…” I mutter as he brings the carrier up to his chest and breaks into a jog.

 Well, I was wrong about one thing. He’s definitely not guilty.

[andsotheintrovertwrites]

Say Something

Slowly, that smile faded away.

 She used to eagerly greet him at the door when he returned home after his night classes. She would stay up, no matter how late, and rush him into the warmth of their apartment on the frozen winter nights. She would always make sure to get warm food into him. He stayed after class often to ask questions and she knew that meant food was the last thing on his mind. So she would rush into the kitchen after getting back from class in the afternoon, messily tie her apron up at her back, and get to work making the best meals she knew how to cook.

 She used to pull him through the house and sit him down at the table, watching his smile grow softly as he saw each meal for the first time. Each bite was a delicacy for him, something he looked forward to at the end of every long day. Talking through mouthfuls he would tell her all about how his day went. Things his classmates discussed, his latest test scores, how he was so grateful he was finally improving in school. And he owed it all to her support, enveloping him like a soft glow and pushing him forward each and every day.

 She used to help him with the things he didn’t understand, patiently working through every math problem and every formula, teaching him the complicated grammar he wasn’t sure how to use. Explaining the meaning of words like it was second nature. As a result his grades started improving and he was starting to see things differently, starting to understand concepts that that were cloudy at best in the past. It started looking bright and he was on track to succeed. He started relying on her help with academics less and less, taking his own slow and careful steps without her support. He could study on his own, and she couldn’t have been more proud of him. She changed his life.

 She used to take care of the housework as well, but he insisted that he do his share. She was already cooking and doing the shopping on top of work and class. If it meant he got to see more of her sunny personality while he was relaxed, then he would do it for her smile. The smile that lit up his day, a quiet smile that you may have had to pay close attention to really see. But it was always there, a gentle reassurance. So he took over the chores, one less thing for her to worry about. He got to see her smile more often.

   Slowly, that smile faded away.

   It wasn’t noticeable at first. Sometimes he thought that there was a moment she should have been smiling, but she wasn’t. Or something that should have made her laugh, but didn’t. She would often lose focus and stare at the same spot for a while, deep in thought, before blinking few times and returning to whatever it was she was doing. She would sigh more often, or drop things, or lose balance. She would often blame it on lack of sleep, and he didn’t say anything.

 Then some nights she wouldn’t be waiting up after class for him. He wrote it off as a tough day and she was tired so she went to bed earlier. On those days he would pull his shoes back on and brave the cold again, hoping to find an open store and get something to fill his stomach. He would always buy something extra for heron those days and bring it back, hoping in the morning she would be surprised.

 Some days, she was. She would thank him with a kiss on the cheek and chew away happily at whatever snack he had thought to bring back for her. But some days, she wouldn’t notice. On those days he would wake up well before her. She would ignore her alarms, hitting snooze and throwing a pillow over her head until she had pushed waking up long enough that she would almost surely be late to her first class. He would sit at the kitchen table and watch her slink through the apartment, gathering her things at an unusually slow pace. It seemed like a dark aura had overtaken her at those times. She wouldn’t make eye contact for the first little while, taking deep breaths every now and then. A dark cloud hovering above her froze him in place. He wasn’t sure how to deal with it at all.

 She would leave the room and take care of business somewhere else, and when she returned with a shake of her head she seemed to have regained her sunniness back. It was a relief, but he couldn’t help but be worried. Although he never brought it up. Those mornings weren’t normally followed by early nights and her mood seemed to remain radiant throughout the day. Luckily, it didn’t happen often.

 It was only a day or two every month that she became this way. Soon after, she would return to being herself and ease his worries.

 However, slowly those days happened more and more, to the point where she was missing whole classes because she refused to leave bed no matter what. Sometimes when he went to check on her, her cheeks would appear damp and her replies would sound choked up. He couldn’t ignore that. He would ask what happened, why she was so upset, and she told him it was stress. She wasn’t feeling well because she had a big test or assignment coming up for one of her classes and she would be ok in a few days, she assured him. Everything was going to be alright. And usually, it was. In a few days she would be back to her normal and cheerful self, helping out in whatever way she could. But even in those times he noticed that would stay quieter than usual, not saying as much as she might have under normal circumstances. Still, he said nothing.

   When he got a phone call from her boss asking where she had been the last three days, he finally decided it was time to say something.

   She hadn’t been to school in those three days either, he found out. Her attendance was falling and it was taking her grades with it. She was staying in bed all day, well past the time he left in the morning. It was coming up on months that this had been going on. He needed to say something. He regretted not saying something sooner.

   She spoke of a pain in her chest that never went away. Something constantly there, pulling at her and draining all of her energy. She was constantly tired. The dark cloud he had noticed earlier on had only grown bigger, liking her more and more until it decided that it didn’t want to leave her. Her own personal thunderstorm, she called it.

 It constantly caused her to be in a foul mood. She was avoiding her friends and family. It felt like they were all against her, all out to get her, no matter how untrue she knew that to be. It seemed like no one wanted to listen to her, cutting her off mid-sentence perpetually until she gave up talking and became the listener. They all seemed to like her better that way. With her mouth shut and her ears open.

 She always had tears built up, ready to overflow. The only thing that held them back was the fake smile she wore every day, like duct tape wrapped around a broken pipe. Sometimes it felt like if she even opened her mouth, those tears would spill over and she would collapse to the floor in agony.

 Why didn’t she say anything about this before, he wanted to know. Did she not trust him? Was he one of the ones that she thought was against her? No, not at all, she told him. She was never able to bring anything up properly. She didn’t want to worry him, since he had his school work to worry about.

 Well why wouldn’t she tell someone else? He would have dropped everything for her, anyway. But if she truly felt like that, wasn’t there someone else she could have opened up to?

 Everyone has problems, she was told. They would start opening up to her about their own problems, not intending to listen to her again. She stopped trying to say anything. She stopped trying to talk to anybody. But once she did that, they pounced on her saying things like she should try harder. Why won’t you talk to me? they would ask. I tried, but you aren’t. It’s not personal, she would think to herself, I’m having trouble with everything. But she couldn’t say any of that. An apology and an ‘I’ll try harder next time, it is my fault’ would do.

 She didn’t mean to be lazy. The things that used to make her feel better didn’t anymore.

   He had no idea that any of this was going on.

   She described it as the cloud growing larger every day, trying its very best to swallow her up completely. She didn’t know why. She was trying not to let it win but she felt unimportant so what did it matter anyway? She wanted to be free of it but at the same time she couldn’t imagine it. Being enveloped in the cloud felt all too real and familiar. Being free from it might lighten her so much that she wouldn’t be able to hold herself down anymore. She might just float up into the sky and away from the world she knew.

   He wanted to help her, desperately. He wanted to do everything he could for her, but he wasn’t sure what that was. He had never dealt with anything like this before. He felt lost, not knowing what it was he could do to make this pain go away.

 She already felt better, she told him, just having been able to admit everything to him. It was already easing the pain a little. He was the only one left she trusted and confiding in him had already done a world of good for her.

 He believed that that was all she needed. She let him.

   And every night he awoke crying to a cold, empty bed, he regretted more not saying something sooner.

[andsotheintrovertwrites]

 I’m going to finish this today. I can do this.

 Chizu was so close to finishing her first draft that she could almost taste it. She’d been a small-time writer, publishing short stories in magazines every now and then but never getting anywhere she wanted to be. She was a persistent person, to say the least. She would constantly visit publishers and pitch them ideas while showing her works off, hoping that one day, they would take her under their wing. She tried for over a year with no luck. It wasn’t until, two years ago, she found the first company that would be willing to publish a novel with her as long as she kept strict deadlines and followed their guidance. Naturally, she was thrilled. A novel and book of short stories published later, she could finally consider herself an author.

Ever since then, the brunette has been working rather diligently on her second book. The first draft was nearly completed, but this was the most stuck she’d ever been. She wanted to be finished over a month ago- well before the deadline- but now she was cutting it close. She had just another week until she had to hand it over to her editor. Already cutting it close as she was, if she didn’t finish it soon it would leave her no time to go over it herself before submitting. That wouldn’t do; Chizu was dead set on finding and fixing as many mistakes as she could before anyone ever saw them. After all, showing someone an unedited first draft was not professional and just plain embarrassing.

Sighing and slumping back into her chair, Chizu pushed her glasses up her nose so her brown eyes were no longer squinting at her screen. She had the tendency to let them fall down far enough that she often found herself inches away from the computer monitor. Only when she was on a roll, of course. On a roll or completely unsure of what to do. Unfortunately for her, this time it was the latter of the two.

 She blinked her eyes back into focus and slowly spun her office chair around a few times just for a change of scenery. This room was what she liked to call her “writing room”. It was the smallest in her one-room apartment, only big enough to fit a computer desk, a fold out couch, and a bookshelf packed tight with novels on the polished wood floor. One large four-paned window that sat in the wall above the couch let the golden rays of sunlight flood into the room. It was already the afternoon.

Chizu groaned and stood up from her chair, collapsing a few feet away on the couch. It was long enough that, fully stretched out, her small frame could fit perfectly across. That was one of the things she loved about her old brown leather couch. She ran a hand through her hair in frustration.

Earlier in the story, she wasn’t having any trouble at all. She was writing so much, so fast, that she could barely keep up herself. Yet now that it was almost done, she was starting to question whether she really could end it naturally, or if that ending would be successful. Maybe she should just cut it short and let the bad guy win. That would get the story done sooner for sure.

Four people, three men, one woman, were abducted off the streets of their hometowns and dropped on a deserted island in the middle of the ocean. None of them knew who the other three were. They were tasked with completing a set of challenges each before they were allowed to leave the island, ranging anywhere from gathering the resources to cook specific meals to navigating their way through a complicated cave system in search of the supplies they needed to get through the night. They were hooked up to a complicated computer system that kept track of their every move.

Being complete strangers, none of the four had any will to work together and trudged off down the sandy beach to set up their own areas. The challenges continued to increase in difficulty and, as they began to break down one by one, two of them died off. The first death was a warning to the other three: a boy who allowed himself to become distracted and was blown to pieces. The second death was the girl, who drowned in a desperate search for food. Each death was announced to the remaining survivors as it happened, but they had no idea how or where it occurred.

After the girl died it became apparent to the remaining two that they would need to work together and look out for each other as the challenges were completed. Nearly done with all of the tasks, the pair had become close and they were finally able to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

That was when a new rule was introduced.

Only one was to be released.

 The pair was separated and, no matter how hard they looked, they couldn’t find each other anywhere. Whoever was able to complete the list of challenges first would be leaving the other behind.

 That was where Chizu was completely stumped. She had already killed off two characters, and now she had trapped the remaining two in this situation. How was she supposed to decide who was going to survive or not? The entire story idea was cruel enough, she thought. And now she had to leave one of these characters that she had grown to love in the dust.

Rolling over so she was lying on her stomach, Chizu groaned in frustration. This was not going to be easy.

 She turned back over and stared up at the ceiling, hoping the spider web clinging to corners of the walls would somehow spell out the answer she needed.

 Of course, it didn’t.

“Chizuuuu~” The sound of an office chair wheeling down the hall resulted in another groan rumbling in Chizu’s throat. Not now. “Are you still working on your story?” The face of her boyfriend now popped into the door frame.

“Yes, I am,” she said with as much patience as she could muster. She loved Daichi dearly, but the boy was a writer himself and he never seemed to go through slumps like this. Just trying to deal with him and his perfection was way more than Chizu could handle on a day like today.

Daichi rolled his chair further into the room and focused his hazel eyes on the cursor, flashing over and over in the middle of the page. “You haven’t written anything more since I last came in here.” He frowned. “Are you okay?”

Chizu sat up on the couch and shot him a look of warning. “Yes, I am okay. I’m just stuck. There’s a difference.”

“Are you mad at me?” Daichi tilted his head to the side a little, dark brown hair brushing across his forehead. It melted Chizu’s heart a little.

“No, I’m not mad at you,” she said softly. “I’m mad at myself. I wish I could figure this out.”

Spinning his chair around slowly, a thoughtful look appeared on Daichi’s face. “Is it the same problem you were having an hour ago? Or have you thought ahead a little?”

“I’ve gotten nowhere,” Chizu sighed, falling back onto the couch. “Who am I supposed to let live? The one that jumps into things and gets them done his way and quickly, or the careful thinker who always likes to plan ahead? Which of those two would finish first?”

“They’re an even match, if you ask me,” Daichi stated. “It would be up to luck.”

“That doesn’t really help… They agreed to escape together. They were dropped on this island not knowing each other at all, and now they’re friends. How can I leave one behind after all that?”

“You have to make a choice, Chi.” Daichi stopped spinning and stood up, stepping across the room to pull Chizu to her feet. “You don’t have a lot of time. I’m sorry for bringing it up again, but I want you to finish in time.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, giving her that caring look he always used when she was close to a deadline and stressed about it. The height difference meant Chizu’s chin reached his shoulders and she found herself glancing up at him, worry creasing her brow. “It’s going to be alright. I’ll help you edit afterward, okay?”

Chizu agreed and reluctantly returned to her computer, faced once again with the half-finished sentence on the screen that seemed like it would stay that way forever.

“Daichi, would you stop that?” Chizu finally snapped. For the last fifteen minutes Daichi had been hanging over the back of his chair, phone in hand and feet pushing off the couch to spin him around. At first it didn’t really bother her, but after a few sentences deleted in frustration, she couldn’t take his cheerful spinning anymore. He stopped dead in his tracks.

“I’m sorry…” He smiled sheepishly at her, tucking his phone back into his pocket.

“Why are you even still in here?” Chizu pushed her glasses up to her forehead and rubbed her eyes.

 “I want to make sure you’re still on track,” he announced, back straightening a little. “And… I’m kinda hungry, so I want to know exactly when you finish so we can go out to eat.”

“Daichi…” She didn’t know how long she was going to be at all. He might starve. “Just go grab something on your own.”

 “I want to take you out to celebrate, though!” he insisted. “I can wait, don’t worry.”

Hope filled his expression, and Chizu couldn’t help but give in. “As long as you stop spinning around. And mute your phone.”

 One quiet phone and a paragraph later, Daichi was inevitably kicked into the living room after he accidentally forgot the other condition, nearly knocking himself over spinning his chair.

 I was just starting to get back into it, too. Chizu rolled her eyes as she sat down again after rescuing Daichi and telling him to get lost.

While she had found herself able to continue her story, she still hadn’t come up with an answer to her problem. Progress was slow.

 What would happen when they were freed would differ for each person. The spontaneous one would definitely try and exact his revenge on the person that trapped them on this island for everything that had happened. The thinker would try to make it known publically what happened to them on that island, using the media to stop the villain. Which method would serve to be more useful? Who would be able to save the other before he died like the first two did?

 “I don’t know,” Chizu mumbled to herself, laying her head on the desk in front of her, “I really don’t know.”

Half an hour later, Daichi returned to Chizu with a glass of milk and a plate of cookies, hoping to lift her spirits a little. He had already eaten four or five of them, but he was still hungry as ever.

“Chi, I brought you a snack,” he said cheerfully. The sight that greeted him was not a welcome one. “What are you doing on the couch again?”

 “I don’t know what to do, Daichi,” she whined, voice muffled by the pillow she had pressed her face in. “I give up. I admit defeat.”

“You can’t do that now; you’re almost done.” Face scrunching up in concern, Daichi set the food down on the desk and sat on the floor next to the couch. “It’s not the end yet. There’s an answer for this; I know it. You just have to go a little further to find it.”

“You think so?” Chizu peeked up at him, causing a smile to grow on Daichi’s face.

 “I’m sure.” He rubbed her back lightly. There was no one in this world that could motivate Chizu more than Daichi could. “I can try pulling ideas out of you, if you think it will help.”

 “How?” The girl sat up again, stretching out her arms above her head. She’d been sitting in this room all day and, like Daichi, now wanted to go out and eat.

“Well, when you first started the novel, you must have had some idea where to take it. Do you remember where that was?”

 “I originally wanted the girl to win in the end. But it seemed so natural to have her die where she did…” Having those two left in the end worked out better than having three people. Otherwise they wouldn’t have realized the dangers of the island and may have wrote off the first death as an accident. The second death is what brought out the real fear in them. ‘We’re the only ones left, aren’t we?’ they thought. Being alone was too risky, especially as the danger grew and grew. “It developed the story and characters better that way. But now I have no idea what to do with it.”

“Hmm…” Daichi leaned back on his hands. “You didn’t think about what would happen if any of the others won?”

 “I planned to kill off the first guy from the beginning, so I didn’t think about him. But like you said earlier, the two that are left seem like an even match, even though they’re completely different. I don’t know who would be best to let free.”

“Couldn’t you just choose at random then? If they’re even…”

“The very ending of the story would be completely different based on who goes free. How the bad guy is brought down…” Chizu sighed and buried her face in her hands. She was still getting nowhere.

 The discussion went on for another twenty minutes, neither of the two able to come up with anything. It was incredibly frustrating. The day was slowly draining away and slipping through Chizu’s fingers. She had started early in the morning, and it was already mid-afternoon.

“You really do have a problem here, don’t you?” Daichi fell onto his back and reached a hand out, trying to grab at the light shining through the window. He wanted more than anything to help, but this wasn’t a problem he had often. Probably because before he started writing he made sure that he had everything mapped out, down to the very last detail.

“What, you’re stuck now too? This isn’t even your story.” Now it seemed like there really was no hope for her story.

“We’re gonna figure this out, Chi. Don’t worry,” Daichi assured. “Jeez… Couldn’t they just each blow up their side of the island at the same time or something?”

“Destruction may be the answer in your stories, but it’s not going to help here, Daichi. And besides, if they did that, they would both di-” Chizu stopped, her eyes widening. Daichi raised his head, curious to find out what had happened.

“Chizu? What’s up?” Receiving no answer, he sat up and leaned forward a little. “Chizu?”

 “I think… I think you just fixed it,” Chizu said in awe. “You just solved it.” Before Daichi had any time to react, Chizu was on her feet and jumping into her computer chair.

“That’s great! But… What did I do, exactly?” Daichi laughed a little.

Before responding, Chizu typed another sentence and then turned to the confused boy on the floor. “Together, Daichi. You said together. Why didn’t I think of this?”

“Think of what?”

“I’ve been looking at this the wrong way. They don’t have to follow the rules. They can do things their own way.” She turned back to her computer, fingers hitting the keys faster and faster as she somehow managed to explain and write at the same time. “I’ve been thinking inside the box.”

 “I still don’t know how that fixed anything.” She was dragging the answer out and leaving him hanging, but this new light in her eyes brought a smile to his face. This was the Chizu he liked to see.

“They could complete the last challenge at the same time. They can find a wall in the cave system that’s common to both sides of the island and communicate discreetly there. Then, using the flares they found earlier…” Her excitement grew as the seconds passed, the words leaving her mouth at an increasing pace. “They could find a signal and finish at the same time! They’d either be both let out, or destroy the system that they’re hooked up to… It’s perfect.”

 “I told you you’d get it, Chi. How long do you think it’ll take for you to finish now?”

“I’m not sure. It depends on how fast I can physically type everything out.” Chizu’s voice sounded distant as she had already dove completely into her story again. It had been days since she last managed to immerse herself in this world, so Daichi didn’t dare break her out of it. Instead he pushed the plate of cookies closer to her on his way out, hoping that she would be able to stop long enough to get something in her stomach.

 A few hours later, the sun was beginning to set and Daichi was sure he was going to starve. He was tired of staring at the TV screen and decided he needed some fresh air.

Walking through the park for a while and admiring the way the setting sun shone on the leaves and seemed to turn the pond gold, Daichi thought about proud he was that Chizu was finally finding her way. At this rate, she would be able to finish in time to edit through the entire thing just before she needed to turn it in- maybe faster if she would let him help.

 He stepped off the path and closer to the water’s edge, throwing a few small stones into the center of the pond- or at least as close to the center as he could manage. Plopping down onto the grass, he watched the ripples swim out to the edges, eager to complete their journeys. Chizu was just as eager to reach the end of her second novel. She had barely been paying attention when Daichi shouted that he was going out for a while; all he got was an unfocused “Okay” and nothing else. He couldn’t help but smile to himself at the thought.

 On the way home, Daichi passed multiple fast food places, the smell of burgers and fries and pizza floating through the air and teasing his empty stomach. He could easily stop and get something to bring back… But he told Chizu they would go out to get a celebratory meal after she finished. He had to be strong.

When Daichi got back, he peeked inside Chizu’s computer room only to find an empty seat. Concluding that she must have torn herself away from her novel long enough to go to the washroom, he sat himself down in her chair, hoping for some sort of reaction when she returned.

Nope.

 The girl settled herself on his lap upon returning and continued typing as if nothing was different.

Daichi laughed a little and rested his chin on her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her waist. At least this way he knew she wouldn’t accidentally freeze to death because she was too focused on writing to notice she was cold.

“Are you almost finished?” he asked lazily.

“I’m almost there,” she replied, taking a deep breath.

Another long while later, Daichi found himself being startled awake by a small cheer. He hadn’t even realized that he had fallen asleep with Chizu still on his lap. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he asked what happened.

“I’m done, Daichi. I finished,” Chizu told him with an unbelievable sense of accomplishment. “My first draft is done.”

“Ahh, I’m so proud of you, Chi! You did it.” Daichi tightened his arms around her in a hug and pressed a small kiss on her cheek.

“All that’s left to do is edit, and I’ve got a week to do that. I’m so glad I finished today.” Chizu sighed and leaned back into Daichi’s embrace. The feeling of finally finishing was worth the struggle.

“Does that mean…?” Daichi trailed off, hopefulness dripping in his voice.

“Yes, we can go eat now.” Chizu glanced at the time on her monitor. “It’s already midnight though,” she gasped. Had she been working that long?

“It’s ok, I know a place that’s open 24/7 and serves all day breakfast. It’s just what you need!” Daichi said cheerfully.

“You haven’t eaten all day…” She felt immensely bad for being the cause of that.

 “I had cookies, don’t worry.” Leaning to the side a bit, Daichi got a view of the plate he had left for her earlier. “But you haven’t…” Sure enough, none of the sweets had been touched. At least the glass was empty. “You must be starving. Let’s go get you some food, okay? I’ll pay.”

“Are you sure?” Chizu smiled at his offer.

“Completely. Now let’s go eat, shall we?”

 The idea sounded perfect to the exhausted writer.

[andsotheintrovertwrites]

Fortunes

 I saw an OTP prompt on here that made me want to write this. I hope it's not cheating to use original characters... Anyway, enjoy ^^ There are a few trigger warnings in this but I feel like mentioning them would ruin the story a bit...be careful ;; )

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  “Are you ready to go?” Grey asked, startling Cherri fully awake. She had nearly fallen asleep on top of her luggage.

  “Oops,” she said under her breath, “I spaced out and almost crashed.” She looked at him sheepishly.

  “Were you kept up again?” His brows furrowed together in concern. “Another nightmare?” The girl nodded at him and, before he knew it, he had dropped his bags and levitated toward her, sitting down next to her. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s alright.” She smiled and pulled her brown hair into a ponytail. “I’m used to it by now, yeah? I’ll just sleep in the car- If that’s alright?”

  “That won’t be very comfortable,” Grey pointed out. These recurring nightmares were starting to worry the boy. His beloved was suffering and he wasn’t sure how to stop it.

  “I’ll take a nap when we get there, then.” Cherri stood up, taking one last walk around the room to make sure nothing was forgotten. She almost finished packing before her progress stopped, so it only took a minute or two for her to gather everything together. “Done.”

  “You go make sure all the windows are shut and everything is locked up, and I’ll take our stuff out to the car,” Grey instructed, excitement building. “I can’t wait to get there. It’s been too damn hot lately and I’m dying to go for a swim.”

  “I’m excited too,” Cherri agreed. “You’re sure your uncle is okay with us staying at his cottage for a few days?”

  “Of course I am, Cherri. Otherwise I wouldn’t have made you pack all this stuff.” He laughed a little as he picked up her bags and headed toward the door.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  It was nearly a two hour drive to the lake, but the time flew by quickly as the couple played CDs and word games, laughing and joking most the way there. About an hour into their journey, they stopped at a small roadside diner to get lunch. They wanted to get straight into cottage activities when they got to their destination; there was no time to be cooking or preparing food.

  It was a nice little restaurant; it had a relaxing atmosphere that made customers feel at home. The booth they were sat at felt very private, like they were hiding away from the world together. The burgers they ordered were certainly excellent, leaving the two full and satisfied.

  “That was amazing.” Grey leaned back against his seat. “I’m glad we still have another hour to drive. I could never swim after that,” he chuckled.

  “Yeah,” Cherri laughed. “I liked it.” She leaned back as well, just as the waitress returned with the bill.

  “You’re an adorable couple,” she said, causing both Cherri and Grey to go bashful.

  “Th-thank you…” they stuttered at the same time. The other girl laughed.

  “You know, when people as cute as you come into the restaurant, we have a special surprise to give out.”

  “Oh?” Grey’s interest was suddenly piqued.

  “I’ll be right back.” The waitress smiled and hurried behind the counter.

  “I wonder what she’s going to bring,” Cherri wondered aloud.

  “They probably give it out to everyone,” Grey chuckled. “But hey, I’m still curious.”

  When the waitress came back, she handed each person a slip of paper. “Fortunes,” she said at their confused expressions. “Open them up, but don’t tell each other right away! I love giving these out to couples because they might end up improving your relationship.” She clapped her hands together. “Go on, open them. Our diner is known for the after-meal fortunes around these parts.”

  “Is that so…” Grey said in a low voice, unfolding his piece of paper and taking a look at what was written on the inside. “Huh. Nice.” He nodded approvingly, slipping the paper into his pocket. “I can work with that.”

  Curious as ever, Cherri opened her paper. Her eyes went wide as she read. “This…”

  “Is everything okay?” Grey asked.

  “Is it a bad one?” The waitress leaned in a little, wanting an answer. “There are normally ways to counteract the bad ones… Is that not mentioned?”

  “No… It’s not bad. Not really. Just… A little scary, I guess.” Cherri tried to play it off, but some of the colour drained from her face. Grey shot her a worried look, but didn’t say anything.

  “I hope everything works for you two,” the waitress told them, tucking their payment into the pocket in the front of her apron. She turned to Cherri. “If that fortune was bad, make sure you do whatever it says so it doesn’t happen. These things have a high tendency to come true.”

  Cherri’s heart dropped.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Back in the car and half an hour away, Cherri found herself not being able to keep her eyes open. She nearly ended up dozing off, but jolted awake as the car hit a bump in the cottage road. The lake was just visible through the trees now. For a moment, Cherri thought about the fortune again. It was a sort of simple thing that it asked her to do, but something she just couldn’t bring herself to do at this moment. She tried settling her mind by telling herself there was no way these things would come true. It was stupid anyway.

  “You okay?” Grey asked, glancing over at Cherri’s deep-in-thought face.

  “Yeah.” She smiled. “Just a little groggy, is all.”

  The couple’s excitement grew as Grey drove the car down the long path to the cottage, finally pulling up next to the small wood cabin on the lake. It was midday and the sun was bright in the sky; the water shimmering and reflecting the clear blue sky above. The edges of the lake were lined by small inclines; rocks just above the surface of the water slowly grew into the soil ground that served as the base for trees and all the other cottages dotting the lake. There were a few families out enjoying the day already. Kids were splashing around and laughing in the water, parents sitting close to the edge and not taking their eyes off their little ones. This was a sight Grey lived to see. And the sight he longed to show Cherri. “Isn’t it pretty, Cher?” The smile grew wide on the boy’s face. That was the sight Cherri lived to see.

  “It’s beautiful,” Cherri told him, pressing close to his side and wrapping an arm around his waist.

  “Just like you,” Grey grinned, pressing a kiss on the top of her head. “I’m gonna go unpack a bit. Take in the view, okay?” With that, he left the girl with a small blush lining her cheeks to stare out at the lake.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Grey found Cherri sitting on the rocks with her legs pulled up to her chest when he returned. “Enjoying it?” He sat down behind her, allowing her to stretch out her legs and lean back onto him.

  “It’s really nice, Grey. Thank you for taking me.”

  The boy casually twirled a lock of her hair around his finger, ruffling his own black hair in embarrassment. “I’ve always wanted to bring you here.”

  Cherri smiled at the gentle tone in his voice. “Thank you.”

  “Are you ready to go swimming?” All of a sudden his voice was energetic and she could practically feel him bouncing up and down.

  “I’ll go get changed, then.”

  After digging a swimsuit and towel out of her bag, she stretched out on the bed to reach Grey’s bag. Why would he put it all the way over there, anyway? She couldn’t deny that it was comfortable. Maybe she would finally be able to get a good night’s sleep here.

 Forgetting that, she rummaged through Grey’s bag for his towel, knowing full well that he would have forgotten it in his excitement. He would probably just complain when he got out then, shivering and mumbling about forgetting something so important. The thought made her giggle.

  Armed with towels, Cherri made her way down to the rocks and found that Grey was already paddling around in the lake, happy as can be.

  “I’m sorry, Cher… I couldn’t wait.” He smiled, looking guilty.

  That expression was so cute. “It’s alright,” Cherri called. “I’ll be in in a minute. Let me warm up in the sun a little bit.”

  “Watch this, then!” Grey shouted, climbing out of the water and onto one of the higher rocks a few meters away from where the girl was sitting. He backed up and prepared himself.

  With a little bit of a running start, Grey dove into the water, looking graceful as ever. He had always been the sporty type and managed to do almost everything with perfect form and power. Swimming was definitely one of his strong points. Cherri waited a few seconds to see his head pop out of the water, growing more and more anxious as each moment passed.

  For a minute, Cherri’s fortune popped into her mind, the writing clear in front of her eyes.

  You have someone very special to you.

  There was no way.

  You must tell this person exactly what they mean to you.

  There was no way, right?

  Tell them how much you love them.

  It couldn’t be true…

  Still nothing broke the serenity of the water’s surface.

  Or you will lose them.

  “GREY!” Cherri shouted, going into a full-out panic. She shot up and in a few strides she was at the water’s edge. “Grey, where are you? Grey!”

  In a moment of relief, Grey bobbed to the surface. But it didn’t take Cherri long to realize that he had been under there way too long to be okay. And he wasn’t moving. Without a second’s hesitation, the girl climbed down the rocks and carefully lowered herself into the water; she didn’t want to jump for fear of the same thing happening to her.

  She swam over to where Grey was floating limply as fast as she could. She turned him over, bringing his face out of the water and noticing the red colour and gash on his forehead. That cannot be good.

  Hooking her arms underneath his and paddling desperately to land, Cherri was determined to save him. He was bigger than she was, making the situation a lot more difficult than she could have anticipated. The shore was farther than it looked and her legs were growing more and more tired. It seemed like the lake was starting to produce a current, doing all it could to slow her progress. The girl was close to tears and nearly slipped under the water a few times herself, but somehow managed to keep herself and Grey afloat each time. It felt like she had been swimming for an hour.

  There were plenty of people out here before. How come no one was coming to help? She didn’t have the time nor the focus to look up and check what was happening. All she could do was keep her eyes locked on the flat rocks ahead and keep swimming.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Cherri gently pulled Grey out of the water and lay him down on the rocks. She reluctantly took a few seconds to gasp for air and look around the lake. No one was there anymore.

  She turned her attention back to Grey. There was blood dripping down the side of his face from his right temple. The water must have been too shallow where he jumped and he hit the bottom…

  “Grey, sweetie, can you hear me?” Cherri leaned in and pushed his wet hair out of his face, speaking urgently. “Grey?” She checked for a pulse and breath leaving his mouth. To her relief, both were present. He was alive. “Grey, you have to wake up. Please,” she sobbed, “wake up.” Placing both hands on his chest, Cherri began doing chest compressions. “Come on, Grey. Wake up. You can do it.” Tears were streaming down her face and blurring her vision. “SOMEONE HELP!” she screamed, continuing her desperate attempt to save the boy’s life. “SOMEONE! SOMEONE CALL FOR HELP!”

  Then Grey’s eyes fluttered open.

  “Grey?” Cherri stopped compressions and placed one hand on his cheek, the other over the wound on his head in an attempt to stop the bleeding. “Grey, you’re awake…” He coughed, bringing up a little water. Cherri turned him on his side and let him get it out.

  “Cherri,” he said, voice rough and barely audible, “what happened?”

  “You nearly drowned, Grey. We need to get you to a hospital, now,” she told him.

  “My head really, really, really hurts…” he groaned, face scrunched up in pain. Then shock took over. “Cherri… Ch-Cherri, I c-can’t, I can’t m-move…”

  The tears started falling faster down her cheeks. “What do you mean you can’t move?”

  “I can’t move.” He was panicking, bad. He said the words over and over. His eyes were blinking rapidly and his voice shook as tears spilled over. But his body stayed perfectly still. “I can’t move my arms or legs or anything. Nothing is working. I CAN’T MOVE.”

  “I’m going to go call an ambulance, okay?” Cherri took a deep breath. If she couldn’t hold herself together, how could she expect him to? “Take some deep breaths and calm yourself down. I’ll be right back.”

  “DON’T- Don’t leave me,” he sobbed. “I’m scared, Cherri. I’m t-terrified. I c-can’t move.”

  “I know, Grey.” His voice went high and broke a few times. It was painful to hear. “I know you can’t… I’m going to get help. You’re going to get better, okay?”

  “I can’t move…” He sounded much weaker now. His eyes slowly stopped blinking until it seemed like a battle just to keep them open. “I can’t… Move… Cherri…” His words were dragged out and slow. He sounded completely drained. Despite never letting her hand leave his head, blood was seeping through her fingers and painting the rocks below. The two were already sitting in a large puddle of blood that seemed to have grown impossibly fast,

  “Grey?” Cherri choked out his name. “Grey, are you okay? Stay with me, Grey. Stay with me.”

  “I l-love you, Cherri,” Grey wheezed.

  “I love you, too,” Cherri sobbed, “so don’t leave. Please.”

  He coughed. “I lo-”

  “Grey?”

  The boy’s eyes shut.

  “G-Grey… N-no. No. NO!”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  “Cherri! Wake up!”

  Cherri’s eyes shot open, but her vision was still blurred by sleep. He head was pounding, throat burning.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Where’s Grey?” The question was the only thing on her mind as tears filled her eyes. “What happened to him? Where is he?”

  “Cherri… I’m right here.”

  The girl was fully awake now. “Grey?” She blinked a few times and, sure enough, the boy came into focus in front of her. “Oh my god, you’re okay,” she sobbed, jumping up to wrap her arms around him, ignoring the pain in her head. “You’re okay…”

  “I’m alright, I promise.” Grey pulled her closer with one arm, stroking her hair with the other. “You were screaming so I came back inside and found you crying in your sleep. What on earth happened, Cherri?”

  She couldn’t stop crying. “I love you so much, Grey. More than anything in the world. You mean so much to me, I love you I love you I love you…” She wasn’t planning on taking any chances with the fortune after that dream, no matter how hesitant she was before.

  “Ch-Cherri… I l-love you too…” He was getting embarrassed. “What’s with this all of a sudden?”

  “The f-fortune…” She tightened her hold on him. “It said that if I didn’t tell you how much you meant to me, I’d lose you. And I dreamt that I did lose you… It was terrifying, Grey. I love you so much.”

  “You and these nightmares…” Grey chuckled softly, kissing the girl’s hair. “Is that why you looked as if you’d seen a ghost in the diner?” Cherri sniffed and admitted it was. “I’m sorry they did that to you… I couldn’t have imagined it was so scary. I’m really sorry, Cher. But I’m okay, I promise. And I love you more than anything, too.”

  Cherri pulled away a little to look at him. “What did yours say?”

  “It told me I have and important person, and said that as long as I didn’t let that person go, we could make it through anything. I’m not going anywhere, Cherri. I’m not letting go of you.” He pulled her back into a hug. “I’m never letting go.”

  She snuggled closer and took comfort in his embrace. “I won’t lose you. I’ll never let it happen. I promise.”

[andsotheintrovertwrites]

Important

Cuuuuuute things yay

I don't even know where this came from and let me tell you it was not meant to turn out like this

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Pulling out the extra key she gave him, he quietly unlocks and opens the door as carefully as he can. It’s nearly three in the morning and he figures she should be asleep by now. Work at the radio station had held him up a lot longer after the show than he had hoped. To be honest, his apartment is much closer to work than hers is. But since he’s already much later getting home than usual, couldn’t he go that extra fifteen minutes and stay over with her instead?

  The logic made sense in his head, at least.

  Cringing as the door shuts with a loud bang because he wasn’t exactly paying attention, he curses under his breath and slips his shoes off. Peeking around the corner, the soft sound of music from a video game can be heard. Did she fall asleep playing a game again?

  There’s a blanket strewn out on the floor and, sure enough, she’s huddled up underneath it with a controller in her hand. Luckily for him, she also seems to have fallen asleep with earbuds in her ears. Glancing around the room again, he sighs at the mess on the floor. It probably isn’t quite as bad as it looks thanks to the blanket that takes up most of the space, but there are small wrappers and cups spread out around her, as well as discarded pillows and game cases. It appears that she’s spent the entire day here in front of the tv.

  “It is your day off, I guess,” he whispers, bending down to start cleaning things up. The moment she awakens she’s just going moan about the mess until it bothers her enough to be cleaned. He may as well do it for her- Just this one time, of course.

  By the time he’s done clearing up, he’s surprised that she hasn’t woken up yet. Listening to music or not, she definitely isn’t a heavy sleeper. Standing in front of his dear ball of sleepiness, perplexed, he scratches the back of his head. He hates to admit it, but he was working late and he just wants her attention. Is that too much to ask?

  He sighs and plops down on the floor next to her. It’s been decided that her rest is the most important thing. Reaching over carefully, he takes the game controller from her and saves so he can quit out. He’s very careful not to move her character; she’s quite particular about the way she plays these things.

  With another glance to the side hoping for some sort of reaction that of course never comes, he returns his attention to the game again and loads up his own file. He’s not good with video games but she has a lot of fun with them so he figured he would try it out. She agreed to let him start a file, but he keeps getting stuck and doesn’t play often.

  After a few failed attempts at getting past the second level he quits in frustration, as usual, and shuts the system off. Once again, he turns toward the sleeping girl behind him. Still nothing. He clicks off the tv, becoming momentarily disoriented in the now dark room. Hoping he won’t step on her, he tiptoes his way to the wall and feels around for the switch, turning it slowly until it’s bright enough to see but not disturb the girl.

  How can she still be asleep with all of his commotion? Why won’t she just wake up?

  He sits back down next to her with a huff, crossing his legs and folding his arms over his chest. He’s running out of options.

  Turning to his last resort, he gently pulls the earbuds out of her ears and listens to see what it was that was playing. It’s some classical music. That’s weird. She doesn’t listen to classical music- as far as he knows, at least.

  Now content that she’ll hear him if he moves around, he pulls up the blanket and lies down next to her. Leaning on one hand, he pokes at her cheek a little. Her face scrunches up a few times, bringing amusement to the boy. Finally, her eyes sleepily blink open and she looks around in a daze for a few seconds before her gaze settles on his face.

  “Morning.” He grins.

  “Is it morning already?” She yawns and stretches out in a cuter way than he thought possible.

  “Three in the morning.”

  “What?” Now fully awake, she takes a look around the dark room, head falling back down in frustration. “Why’d you wake me up?”

  “’Cause I missed you.” The boy pouts, face turning rosy.

  Her expression softens as she looks up to meet his eyes. “I missed you too.”

  “You could have woken up sooner, then.” He inches closer to pull her into his arms. This is definitely the most relaxed he’s felt all day. She’s warm and familiar, like home. He holds her tight. “I missed you…” he says again, mumbling into her hair.

  “I know, I missed you too.” She smiles. She’d never admit it, but she’s so glad he decided to come here instead of going straight home.

  “I tried playing that stupid game,” he chuckles. “I still can’t get past the second part.”

  “You’ve been stuck there for so long,” she sighs. “You don’t have to play, you know.”

  “It’s more fun watching, sometimes… But since you like it, I want to try too.”

  “That’s sweet of you.” She snuggles closer to him. “A little childish, but sweet all the same.”

  “Childish…” he mutters, causing laughter to bubble up from the girl. “I’m not childish.”

  “I bet you were sitting here pouting until I woke up,” she says, grinning.

  “I was not,” he tries, but the guilt in his voice is evident.

  “You totally were,” she laughs. “I’m sorry I didn’t wake up sooner.” Her voice softens.

  “It’s fine; you needed the rest. What were you listening to?”

  “Was I listening to something?”

  “You had earbuds in- That’s why you didn’t hear me come in. I took them out and some classical station was on. What’s up with that?”

  “Classical…?” She tilts her head a little- As much as their current position will allow for. Then realization hits her. “Ahh…”

  “Ah?” he asks, impatient waiting for an answer. What could have been so much more important than hearing him?

  Nothing, it turns out. “I was listening to your radio show, and they start playing classical music afterward. In case you didn’t know.”

  “You were listening?” The boy goes a little weak at the thought. She would stay up that late to listen to his show?

  “I listen to it every night,” she tells him, beaming.

  “How come?”

  “It’s important to you,” she says, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Plus…”

  “There’s more?”

  She squirms a little, her stomach fluttering. “I l-like hearing you…  Your voice,” she says, her heart pounding and face growing red.

  “Oh,” is all he can manage to say for the time being. His heart jumps.

  “N-never mind.” Turning bashful, the girl angles herself to bury her face in his shirt.

  “That’s so sweet,” he says finally, lips curling upward in an overjoyed smile.

  “Shut up.” Her voice is muffled. Tightening his hold on her, he can only think how goddamn happy he is that he came here.

[andsotheintrovertwrites]

So I decided to repost that last story because the first time I did I forgot to tag it

Not that that's going to make anyone else want to read it but

I've been writing a lot, just nothing I can actually post T_T I'm in the middle of nanowrimo right now as well so once that's over I can write other stuff

[andsotheintrovertwrites]

There Was so Much I Could Have Done

Well here it is. I wrote a chunk of this story a long time ago, but abandoned it until now. I’m happy with it now.

This one’s got major trigger warnings, though. Character death, suicide, all that stuff. Take that into consideration. Oh, and one part is inspired by Simple Plan’s Gone Too Soon. I used those lyrics, they’re not mine and stuff.

Lena

  “Kousuke, I really love you,” I say into my phone.

  “Huh? Yeah, I love you too,” He replies. He sounds occupied with something else.

  “I just wanted you to know that,” I’m now trying to calm my shaking voice. I don’t think he notices.

  “Ryuta, you’re doing that move wrong…!” He holds the phone away from his face and shouts at his group member, then returns and speaks apologetically. “I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” I choke.

  He goes quiet for a moment. When he speaks again his tone has changed. “Is everything alright?” He asks carefully. “Calling me out of the blue like this…”

  “I’m fine,” I say a bit more enthusiastically than before.

  He doesn’t say anything and I can almost see his face as he tries to calculate the situation in his head. I’m going to miss that.

  “What do you want for dinner?” He asks in a plain voice.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I say automatically. “I mean, I’m not really hungry.”

  “Have you eaten?” His voice breaks.

  “Sure. Listen, I have to go.”

  “Wait- no-” He practically screams.

  “I love you,” I say before cutting off the line. He definitely knows there’s something wrong now.

  Well, he’s not wrong. I take a deep breath and feel the tears running my face. Although there isn’t any point in crying now. Closing my eyes, I picture Kousuke’s face. The love of my life. I see us smiling and laughing together; crying over a sad movie or when things get tough. Spending every second together talking about everything or just enjoying the silence that is perfectly comfortable just because we’re together. I miss him already.

  But I know he’s at his limit. He’s losing sleep and he’s so stressed out that he’s almost had as many anxiety attacks as I have in the past few months. He’s not eating properly and most of the time he can’t focus on his job. He’s a professional and very successful dancer in a group of five. He’s needed. I can’t keep pushing him like this. I can hear him crying in the night when he thinks I’m asleep in the next room.

  He’s successful, and I’m his partner with an expensive to treat disease that’s slowly eating away at my lungs. I can’t work anymore, and since I had to leave home to come here with Kousuke, he’s the only one able to pay my hospital bills, and it’s wearing him away. I’m having frequent relapses and need to spend more and more time in the hospital. He spends so much time with me that he should be spending at work, and then he gets in trouble with his manager. Not to mention that as things get worse, the bill keeps going up. Soon it’ll be at the point where not even Kousuke’s entertainer salary will cover it, and it’ll just keep rising.

  And he’s scared. He’s so worried about me. I’ve got so many mental disorders because of this that it’s getting out of hand. There’s no way he can take all of this. I’m so broken; I’m not worth saving anymore.

  If I do this… If I do this for him, things will get better. He can stop worrying and he’ll be able to give his 100% at work. If he’s better, and he can make hundreds of thousands of people happy, then it’s worth it. I want him to be happy again.

  I glance over at my bedside at the bottle of pills. Tears are blurring out my vision now and I try to stifle a sob.

  The world can keep turning without me. It’s too much for him to handle. It’s too much for me to handle.

Kousuke

  Ryuta comes to my side just as she hangs up the phone. “Kousuke-?” A look of surprise washes over his face.

  My mouth hangs open and tears run down my face.

  “Kousuke, what’s wrong?” Ryuta says quickly as he bends down to look me in the face. “Who was on the phone? Kousuke?”

  I can’t answer him. I can’t even hear him anymore.

  Something sounded wrong in her voice from the beginning. I was just too stupid to notice. She must have been crying for help- But I noticed too late. When I ask what she wants for dinner usually she’ll gleefully ask me to make something, and even when she isn’t hungry she’ll say she isn’t followed by ‘I’ll just take some of your food if I want it’ and a giggle. Never has it been ‘it doesn’t matter’.

  Ryuta continues to try to snap me out of my trance, and I think the other three- Kouji, Hiro, and Tomoya- are surrounding me as well now.

  Something is very wrong.

  I shoot up and sprint to my car, ignoring the pleading of the members.

  I can hear the footsteps of my friends rushing into the room minutes- or hours, I can’t tell- after I get there. I don’t think the sight that greets them is anything they’d have expected.

  I’m collapsed on the floor with her in my arms: My eyes are swollen and red with tears, my voice hurts from shouting, my arms are sore from how tight I’ve been holding her.

  She’s cold. Her lips, her skin… They’re blue. She isn’t breathing. For fuck’s sake, why isn’t she breathing?

  There are voices all around me. It all turns to white noise. Seconds, minutes, hours pass. She’s put into an ambulance and Ryuta and Hiro have to pry me away from her and hold me down, screaming, so I don’t take off after the ambulance on my own. The paramedic said I wasn’t in the right mind to be going with them. Some bull like that. So Kouji went instead.

  Maybe it’s because I tried to punch out the doctor that took her from my arms.

  “It’ll be alright, Kousuke, it really will…” Ryuta tries to tell me, but ends with a sob of his own. He puts his arm around me and I lean into him.

  “It won’t,” I sob. “She’s gone. SHE’S GONE.”

  Ryuta, Tomoya, and Hiro don’t leave my side that night; none of us can stop crying. I end up sobbing so hard that I throw up twice- Not that there was much in my stomach to begin with.

  This cannot be happening. Please tell me it’s a joke. Please. Don’t do this to me.

Lena

  “Oi, wake up. Wake up. Oi. Wake. Up.”

  Kousuke? Why are you crying? Please stop, you’re worrying me…

  “Wake up…” He chokes.

  I attempt to reach a hand up and wipe the tears from his face but I can’t. I can’t move. I can’t speak.

  All of a sudden, I’m on the other side of the room. Wait- No, I’m still in his arms… But how can I see myself?

  Oh.

  It must have worked. I don’t even remember anything that happened after the phone call.

  After a few seconds of silence, a strangled sob escapes Kousuke’s lips. Then he starts shouting.

  “PLEASE. PLEASE, NO.” He screams. “I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE. I’M SO SORRY. COME BACK.”

  I start to lose my own composure at that. “I’m sorry,” I choke, but I still can’t move any closer. I drop to my knees and cover my mouth with my hands. “I’msorry.”

  It seems like I’ll be stuck like this for the rest of eternity. Am I a ghost now? I can only follow Kousuke; I go wherever he goes. I don’t have a choice: I don’t have the free will to move on my own- although I don’t think I’d rather have it any other way.

  I didn’t intend on putting him through this pain… Nothing like that at all. He was supposed to the free.

  At the funeral, he cries so hard that he needs help to walk. That night, he lies on top of his bed, still wearing his all black suit, sobbing.

  He stays like that all night, unable to sleep.

  For the next few weeks I watch him slowly break down. He stops being able to enjoy any of his hobbies. He stops walking in the park and taking pictures. He stops waking up early to think up his own dances to excitedly show the rest of his group. He stops cooking and it’s up to Ryuta to make sure he’s eating properly. He stops reading, listening to music, painting, leaving his apartment. Every day Ryuta will come around but he doesn’t answer the door. It’s gotten to the point where Ryuta took one of his keys to let himself in because Kousuke is in such bad condition. He’ll skip meetings and rehearsals and shows up to performances in no shape to do any dancing, only to collapse and black out behind the scenes. I spend every minute of it in tears. I think this is worse than if I had lived.

Kousuke

  My hands burn with the urge to once again hold her own, tight, and we’ll stroll through the park again with the lush green trees and vibrant flowers of ever colour. We’ll stop every so often and study the happy plants or to pet an energetic puppy that escaped its owner and pounced up at us with its wagging tail. We’ll turn to each other and laugh happily. I’ll take extra care to memorize her smiling face and her laugh that sounds like the most soothing music to my ears.

  After leaving the park I’ll take her to the small café at the corner and, hand in hand, we’ll enter and take our usual spot in the back corner, right where the window starts. The comforting smell of coffee and freshly baked muffins and cookies and cakes will fill our heads and she won’t know what to order. So I’ll order for her, and I’ll choose the perfect brew and sweet slice of cake to fit her tastes perfectly. We’ll chew happily and take in the busy shop around us. There will be other people there around us, but it won’t matter. She’ll be the only one I see. I’ll pause in the middle of discussing my latest outing with my camera and giggle. I’ll tell her she has chocolate on her face and reach across the table with a small white napkin and gently wipe it away. We’ll laugh and she’ll thank me and I’ll continue with my story, telling her how long I waited for the sun to hit a small robin’s nest high up in a tree just at the right angle.

  We’ll talk and talk and before we know it, it’ll be dark and the café owner will have to ask us politely to leave. We’ll both apologize one too many times, and once we reach the outside, we’ll support each other as we struggle to stay standing in our laughing fit. After an eternity of laughing, I’ll check the time and discover we’re about to miss our bus. I’ll take her cold hand in my warm one, and lead her the way to the bus stop. We’ll just barely make it, and collapse into our seats after shouting at the driver to open the door for just two more seconds. She’ll yawn and snuggle up next to me, breathing in my scent, and I’ll wrap my arm around her protectively. We’ll spend the entire ride like that.

  Once we reach our stop, I’ll take hold of her hand again and help her down the steps in her sleepy state. I’ll guide her up to our apartment and, after we get ready to go to bed, she’ll flop down under the covers and bury her face in her pillow. I’ll slide in next to her and pull the blanket up over both of us. She’ll relax, completely comfortable, once she feels my arms around her and my soft breathing into her hair. I’ll start to hum a slow melody, later adding the words when I feel her breath slow into a lazy pattern. We’ll fall asleep like that: her with the sound of my voice in her mind, and me happy knowing that when I wake up she’ll still be there.

  Except she won’t be. She never will be.

Lena

  After hours of seemingly endless tears, he starts to sing. He sings all of my favourite songs. I can barely hear his weak voice from this corner that has become my temporary prison, but I can feel the raw pain with every word he says.

  He sings song after song; there’s one for every occasion. The songs he used to sing when I was sick, the ones he sang when I was sad and just needed to be huddled up on the couch in his arms, the songs he would sing as he made breakfast or lunch or dinner, the songs he sang to me while stroking my hair right before my eyes grew heavy and drooped shut for the night, the songs he would sing when I woke up in the morning and didn’t want to leave the warmth of the bed or his side.

  His voice breaks every so often as a sob escapes his throat and he needs to reach up and dry his face again. But he sings.

  He sings.

  Although I couldn’t prepare myself for what comes out of his mouth next.

  “Hey there now, where’d you go? You left me here, so unexpected,” Oh god, I don’t think I can take this song.

  “You changed my life, I hope you know. ‘Cause now I’m lost, so unprotected,”He has trouble getting out the last few words.

  “In the blink of an eye, I never got to say goodbye,” Fresh tears roll down both of our faces.

  “Like a shooting star, flying across the room. So fast, so far. You were gone too soon,” Kousuke, please stop. This song…

  “You’re part of me, and I’ll never be the same here without you… You were gone too soon,” I don’t think he’ll be able to finish the song. There’s no way. We’re both sobbing messes now.

  “You were always there, like shining light. On my darkest days, you were there to guide me. Oh I miss you now…” His lip wobbles and I think this is as far as he can get. How can you sing more than that?

  “I wish you could see…” Enough… “Just how much your memory will always mean to me.”

  He can’t go on. It’s become too much for his tired voice, but he continues on humming. He hums slower and slower until he becomes overpowered by drowsiness. The sun is just peeking up over the horizon when he hums his last painful note and his eyes finally shut.

  I want nothing more than to leave this corner and rush to his side. I want to curl up next to him and hold him and tell him everything is going to be ok. In a time like this, I want to cover his face in soft, comforting kisses and wipe his tears away.

  I curl up quietly and cry myself to sleep, remembering the devastation in his voice.

  In the morning, I wake up able to move freely. Was it all a dream after all? I’m lying on Kousuke’s bed, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I laugh to myself. It must have been a terrible, terrible dream. He’s at rehearsal with the other four right now. He woke up early and had to leave without saying goodbye. I’ve just woken up from a nightmare, but it’ll all be ok now, right?

  I’m able to convince myself of this until I want to turn the tv off, but I realize I can’t pick up the remote. I can’t pick anything up; it’s like it’s all glued in place. Just like every other time I’ve tried to pick something up in the last few weeks.

  One story on the news channel catches my attention. “Dancer Serizawa Kousuke of the popular group Angevil…” I read out loud and wait for the rest of the text to appear on screen. “Goes… Missing?!”

  He’s gone missing? Kousuke, where could you have gone…?

  Suddenly, his group appears on the tv, Tomoya in front. “Kousuke, if you can hear this,” he says. “Please come back. We’re so worried about you…”

  Ryuta jumps forward with tears in his eyes. “Kousuke, we know you’re going through a rough time, and we want to help you. Please,” He begs. “Please come back.”

  The program cuts off right then, and I throw my hands over my mouth. He’s broken and missing. Those two things do not mix. He’s getting himself into trouble, I just know it. I jump off the bed and run to the front door, grateful for my new ability to move. But I can’t budge the door handle. Right.

  “Fuck,” I mutter to myself.

  My eyes wander around the room, trying to find something I can do to get out, when my head is hit with a sudden wave of dizziness. It’s difficult to keep my balance, and I can’t see straight… I’m dead, what on earth is going on-?

  I don’t get the chance to finish the thought before collapsing to the ground.

  I wake up hours later- at my burial site. The scene brings tears to my eyes. I’m back to not being able to move much; forever stuck sitting with my back against my grave. A few minutes pass, and I see a figure limping this way. For a moment, it scares me, and my instincts say I should run. Of course, I can’t, and the person can’t see me anyway.

  The more time passes, the more anxious I become. The figure is becoming more and more recognizable as the distance between us closes, and I begin to notice the limping becoming more prominent.

  When he’s five or so feet away, I can finally tell who it is. It’s dark and hard to see, but I’d know that figure anywhere.

  “Kousuke,” I gasp.

  He flinches when I say his name, but doesn’t react in any other way. I try to take a closer look at him to figure out why he was limping. He’s changed back into the suit he wore on the day I was buried. His face is bruised and battered, and he’s clutching at his side tight. The skin on his hand has been painted red with blood, as well as the clothing in the area. He’s been stabbed.

  My tears fall harder as I watch him try to sit in front of me- my grave- but he just collapses on the grass, squeezing his eyes shut at the pain it brings.

  “Hey,” He wheezes. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to visit sooner. I didn’t know what I’d say… Not until now, at least.”

  A small smile appears on his face. “You know what they told me happened when you died?” I don’t remember what happened after talking to him on the phone.

  “They said it wasn’t suicide,” Huh? But, that was my intention…

  “Not really, anyway. They said you had one of your med bottles next to you, as if you were going to take the entire thing. But you didn’t,” I didn’t?

 Kousuke

  “Maybe you couldn’t bring yourself to. But I want you to know that I realized you were going to do it for me. You didn’t want me to worry anymore, right? It was eating me alive, so if you erased yourself from the picture I would be better, right?

  “I know you. And you know me. So you should have known that that wouldn’t have solved anything.” The effort of speaking is becoming too draining for me. My voice is getting weaker and I keep stopping to wince and find a better position to lie in- in vain. I feel dumb speaking to thn air like this, but maybe she will hear. Somehow.

  “I wonder if you can see me right now. If you can, I hope it hurts.” It’s painful to say, but it’s true. “I hope you’re in pain seeing me like this. Because that’s exactly how I felt when I found you.

  “I wanted to die right then and there. I didn’t think I could go on without you. And for a long time, I couldn’t. But I finally managed to pick myself up, and for a few days, I was doing all right. You saw that, right? But then I started looking though pictures on my camera. I was searching for the ones from when Angevil went to the zoo-I wanted to get them printed for Ryuta’s birthday. But guess what I found?”

  “I found one of us. A picture of the two of us that I made Hiro take. We were sitting on a swing. Remember that? You were on my lap and I was swinging us. We were laughing and having so much fun that day. It was right after you were able to leave the hospital after a bad relapse, and my group wanted to celebrate with a picnic at the park. You were so strong…” My voice starts to shake.

  “That picture broke me down again. I just wanted you back. So. Bad. But I knew I could never have you back. And for a while, I couldn’t forgive you. I couldn’t forgive you for leaving me.

  “But do you know what changed my mind?” I’m trying so hard not to cry now. It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t want to know. I need to tell her.

  “When they told me it wasn’t an intended suicide after all. They told me you didn’t take the pills like you must have planned to. But you were collapsed and you weren’t breathing when I found you. You know why?

  “Because you didn’t take them. You needed those meds- the right amount, at least. In your panic you decided not to take them to kill yourself- And forgot to take them altogether. It sent you into an attack and you couldn’t breathe anymore. Cold skin, blue lips, not breathing- they’re all symptoms of an attack. But I couldn’t piece that together on my own. And didn’t call for an ambulance in time.

  “Do you understand? You did think of me, or at least you got too scared to go through with it. I forgive you because of that. But I can’t forgive myself. You were alive when I found you- I just couldn’t realize that. And no one called for an ambulance until my friends showed up twenty minutes after I got to you. They couldn’t save you…”

  I take a deep breath

  “And it’s all my fault.”

Lena

  “NO! NO IT ISN’T!” I scream at the top of my lungs. I don’t expect him to hear me.

  He lifts his head off the ground. “Le-chan? Lena, was that you?” I gape at him. “I must be going mental, but it sounded like you were yelling at me that it wasn’t my fault.”

  “It wasn’t,” I whisper.

  “It wasn’t? Le-chan?” He looks around, confused. “Don’t do this to me… I know I’m dying, but please tell me my mind isn’t playing tricks on me.”

  “No, Kousuke, I’m right in front of you…” I sob.

  He squints at my gravestone. “I can’t see you, but I can hear you.”

  “Kou-chan, I’m sorry. It’s not your fault, it’s mine. This is all my fault…”

  “Le-chan, shush… Don’t cry now. I have something to tell you,” He pulls out a small box from his jacket pocket. “I wanted to marry you.”

  He fumbles open the box, and inside is a beautiful gold ring shaped like a lily of the valley flower as if it would be wrapped around your finger. In each of the buds there’s a small diamond. My tears starting coming down harder.

  “Kou-chan, it’s beautiful… Yes. I would have said yes…”

  “I know you-” He’s cut off as he starts to cough. When he finally stops, his mouth is splattered with blood.

  “Kou-chan-!” I gasp. “Kousuke, how did you end up like this…?”

  “I can barely hear you,” Tears streak down his face, leaving trails in the grime on his cheeks. “I travelled far to find this ring, since it’s your favourite flower. I thought it would be special…” He goes into another coughing fit and drops the ring.

  “Darling…” I sob.

  “Did you hear about how I disappeared? I was looking for this. I was just going to bury it around here in the night for you…”

  “What happened, Kou-chan?”

  “I cut through an alley- I thought it would be faster. There was a gang in there that I didn’t notice at first… Not till it was too late.

  “They said I was trespassing. They beat me up and stabbed me twice, right here,” He moves his hand toward the stab wound again.” I managed to save the ring somehow… But they took everything else.”

  “Kousuke, I’m sorry…”

  “It’s not your fault… I was being careless… I didn’t plan to go this way,” He scoffs. “But maybe I’ll finally be able to be with you again…” His head falls to the ground and he shuts his eyes.

  “No- NO!” I shout. “You can’t die, Kousuke! I love you! Stay alive and chase your dreams! PLEASE.”

  “I love you too…” His voice is barely audible. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Kousuke!” I cry. I reach out with all my might and manage to grab his hand. With his last bit of energy, his squeezes mine before going completely limp. Tears blur my vision.

  His body is glowing. The sight is shocking and stops my tears for a moment. My mouth widens as I watch him sit up again- No, not him… His body is still lying dead on the ground. But another him- a Kousuke like me in my current state- He’s sitting up and looking me in the eyes. He’s glowing and slightly see-through, but he’s Kousuke.

  I hold see-through Kousuke’s hand and pull him toward me. In that moment, everything feels warm and welcoming, as if a large weight has been lifted from both of our shoulders. A rush of light surrounds the both of us, and, without saying a word, we agree to let it sweep us up.

  Finally, we’re at peace.

[andsotheintrovertwrites]

There Was So Much I could Have Done

Well here it is. I wrote a chunk of this story a long time ago, but abandoned it until now. I'm happy with it now.

This one's got major trigger warnings, though. Character death, suicide, all that stuff. Take that into consideration.Oh, and one part is inspired by Simple Plan's Gone Too Soon. I used those lyrics, they're not mine and stuff.

Lena

  “Kousuke, I really love you,” I say into my phone.

  “Huh? Yeah, I love you too,” He replies. He sounds occupied with something else.

  “I just wanted you to know that,” I’m now trying to calm my shaking voice. I don’t think he notices.

  “Ryuta, you’re doing that move wrong…!” He holds the phone away from his face and shouts at his group member, then returns and speaks apologetically. “I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” I choke.

  He goes quiet for a moment. When he speaks again his tone has changed. “Is everything alright?” He asks carefully. “Calling me out of the blue like this…”

  “I’m fine,” I say a bit more enthusiastically than before.

  He doesn’t say anything and I can almost see his face as he tries to calculate the situation in his head. I’m going to miss that.

  “What do you want for dinner?” He asks in a plain voice.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I say automatically. “I mean, I’m not really hungry.”

  “Have you eaten?” His voice breaks.

  “Sure. Listen, I have to go.”

  “Wait- no-” He practically screams.

  “I love you,” I say before cutting off the line. He definitely knows there’s something wrong now.

  Well, he’s not wrong. I take a deep breath and feel the tears running my face. Although there isn’t any point in crying now. Closing my eyes, I picture Kousuke’s face. The love of my life. I see us smiling and laughing together; crying over a sad movie or when things get tough. Spending every second together talking about everything or just enjoying the silence that is perfectly comfortable just because we’re together. I miss him already.

  But I know he’s at his limit. He’s losing sleep and he’s so stressed out that he’s almost had as many anxiety attacks as I have in the past few months. He’s not eating properly and most of the time he can’t focus on his job. He’s a professional and very successful dancer in a group of five. He’s needed. I can’t keep pushing him like this. I can hear him crying in the night when he thinks I’m asleep in the next room.

  He’s successful, and I’m his partner with an expensive to treat disease that’s slowly eating away at my lungs. I can’t work anymore, and since I had to leave home to come here with Kousuke, he’s the only one able to pay my hospital bills, and it’s wearing him away. I’m having frequent relapses and need to spend more and more time in the hospital. He spends so much time with me that he should be spending at work, and then he gets in trouble with his manager. Not to mention that as things get worse, the bill keeps going up. Soon it’ll be at the point where not even Kousuke’s entertainer salary will cover it, and it’ll just keep rising.

  And he’s scared. He’s so worried about me. I’ve got so many mental disorders because of this that it’s getting out of hand. There’s no way he can take all of this. I’m so broken; I’m not worth saving anymore.

  If I do this… If I do this for him, things will get better. He can stop worrying and he’ll be able to give his 100% at work. If he’s better, and he can make hundreds of thousands of people happy, then it’s worth it. I want him to be happy again.

  I glance over at my bedside at the bottle of pills. Tears are blurring out my vision now and I try to stifle a sob.

  The world can keep turning without me. It’s too much for him to handle. It’s too much for me to handle.

Kousuke

  Ryuta comes to my side just as she hangs up the phone. “Kousuke-?” A look of surprise washes over his face.

  My mouth hangs open and tears run down my face.

  “Kousuke, what’s wrong?” Ryuta says quickly as he bends down to look me in the face. “Who was on the phone? Kousuke?”

  I can’t answer him. I can’t even hear him anymore.

  Something sounded wrong in her voice from the beginning. I was just too stupid to notice. She must have been crying for help- But I noticed too late. When I ask what she wants for dinner usually she’ll gleefully ask me to make something, and even when she isn’t hungry she’ll say she isn’t followed by ‘I’ll just take some of your food if I want it’ and a giggle. Never has it been ‘it doesn’t matter’.

  Ryuta continues to try to snap me out of my trance, and I think the other three- Kouji, Hiro, and Tomoya- are surrounding me as well now.

  Something is very wrong.

  I shoot up and sprint to my car, ignoring the pleading of the members.

    I can hear the footsteps of my friends rushing into the room minutes- or hours, I can’t tell- after I get there. I don’t think the sight that greets them is anything they’d have expected.

  I’m collapsed on the floor with her in my arms: My eyes are swollen and red with tears, my voice hurts from shouting, my arms are sore from how tight I’ve been holding her.

  She’s cold. Her lips, her skin… They’re blue. She isn’t breathing. For fuck’s sake, why isn’t she breathing?

  There are voices all around me. It all turns to white noise. Seconds, minutes, hours pass. She’s put into an ambulance and Ryuta and Hiro have to pry me away from her and hold me down, screaming, so I don’t take off after the ambulance on my own. The paramedic said I wasn’t in the right mind to be going with them. Some bull like that. So Kouji went instead.

  Maybe it’s because I tried to punch out the doctor that took her from my arms.

  “It’ll be alright, Kousuke, it really will…” Ryuta tries to tell me, but ends with a sob of his own. He puts his arms around me and I lean into him.

  “It won’t,” I sob. “She’s gone. SHE’S GONE.”

  Ryuta, Tomoya, and Hiro don’t leave my side that night; none of us can stop crying. I end up sobbing so hard that I throw up twice- Not that there was much in my stomach to begin with.

  This cannot be happening. Please tell me it’s a joke. Please. Don’t do this to me.

Lena

  “Oi, wake up. Wake up. Oi. Wake. Up.”

  Kousuke? Why are you crying? Please stop, you’re worrying me…

  “Wake up…” He chokes.

  I attempt to reach a hand up and wipe the tears from his face but I can’t. I can’t move. I can’t speak.

  All of a sudden, I’m on the other side of the room. Wait- No, I’m still in his arms… But how can I see myself?

  Oh.

  It must have worked. I don’t even remember anything that happened after the phone call.

  After a few seconds of silence, a strangled sob escapes Kousuke’s lips. Then he starts shouting.

  “PLEASE. PLEASE, NO.” He screams. “I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE. I’M SO SORRY. COME BACK.”

  I start to lose my own composure at that. “I’m sorry,” I choke, but I still can’t move any closer. I drop to my knees and cover my mouth with my hands. “I’m sorry.”

    It seems like I’ll be stuck like this for the rest of eternity. Am I a ghost now? I can only follow Kousuke; I go wherever he goes. I don't have a choice: I don't have the free will to move on my own- although I don’t think I’d rather have it any other way.

  I didn’t intend on putting him through this pain… Nothing like that at all. He was supposed to the free.

  At the funeral, he cries so hard that he needs help to walk. That night, he lies on top of his bed, still wearing his all black suit, sobbing.

  He stays like that all night, unable to sleep.

  For the next few weeks I watch him slowly break down. He stops being able to enjoy any of his hobbies. He stops walking in the park and taking pictures. He stops waking up early to think up his own dances to excitedly show the rest of his group. He stops cooking and it’s up to Ryuta to make sure he’s eating properly. He stops reading, listening to music, painting, leaving his apartment. Every day Ryuta will come around but he doesn’t answer the door. It’s gotten to the point where Ryuta took one of his keys to let himself in because Kousuke is in such bad condition. He’ll skip meetings and rehearsals and shows up to performances in no shape to do any dancing, only to collapse and black out behind the scenes. I spend every minute of it in tears. I think this is worse than if I had lived.

Kousuke

  My hands burn with the urge to once again hold her own, tight, and we’ll stroll through the park again with the lush green trees and vibrant flowers of ever colour. We’ll stop every so often and study the happy plants or to pet an energetic puppy that escaped its owner and pounced up at us with its wagging tail. We’ll turn to each other and laugh happily. I’ll take extra care to memorize her smiling face and her laugh that sounds like the most soothing music to my ears.

  After leaving the park I’ll take her to the small café at the corner and, hand in hand, we’ll enter and take our usual spot in the back corner, right where the window starts. The comforting smell of coffee and freshly baked muffins and cookies and cakes will fill our heads and she won’t know what to order. So I’ll order for her, and I’ll choose the perfect brew and sweet slice of cake to fit her tastes perfectly. We’ll chew happily and take in the busy shop around us. There will be other people there around us, but it won’t matter. She’ll be the only one I see. I’ll pause in the middle of discussing my latest outing with my camera and giggle. I’ll tell her she has chocolate on her face and reach across the table with a small white napkin and gently wipe it away. We’ll laugh and she’ll thank me and I’ll continue with my story, telling her how long I waited for the sun to hit a small robin’s nest high up in a tree just at the right angle.

  We’ll talk and talk and before we know it, it’ll be dark and the café owner will have to ask us politely to leave. We’ll both apologize one too many times, and once we reach the outside, we’ll support each other as we struggle to stay standing in our laughing fit. After an eternity of laughing, I’ll check the time and discover we’re about to miss our bus. I’ll take her cold hand in my warm one, and lead her the way to the bus stop. We’ll just barely make it, and collapse into our seats after shouting at the driver to open the door for just two more seconds. She’ll yawn and snuggle up next to me, breathing in my scent, and I’ll wrap my arm around her protectively. We’ll spend the entire ride like that.

  Once we reach our stop, I’ll take hold of her hand again and help her down the steps in her sleepy state. I’ll guide her up to our apartment and, after we get ready to go to bed, she’ll flop down under the covers and bury her face in her pillow. I’ll slide in next to her and pull the blanket up over both of us. She’ll relax, completely comfortable, once she feels my arms around her and my soft breathing into her hair. I’ll start to hum a slow melody, later adding the words when I feel her breath slow into a lazy pattern. We’ll fall asleep like that: her with the sound of my voice in her mind, and me happy knowing that when I wake up she’ll still be there.

  Except she won’t be. She never will be.

Lena

  After hours of seemingly endless tears, he starts to sing. He sings all of my favourite songs. I can barely hear his weak voice from this corner that has become my temporary prison, but I can feel the raw pain with every word he says.

  He sings song after song; there’s one for every occasion. The songs he used to sing when I was sick, the ones he sang when I was sad and just needed to be huddled up on the couch in his arms, the songs he would sing as he made breakfast or lunch or dinner, the songs he sang to me while stroking my hair right before my eyes grew heavy and drooped shut for the night, the songs he would sing when I woke up in the morning and didn’t want to leave the warmth of the bed or his side.

  His voice breaks every so often as a sob escapes his throat and he needs to reach up and dry his face again. But he sings.

  He sings.

  Although I couldn’t prepare myself for what comes out of his mouth next.

  “Hey there now, where’d you go? You left me here, so unexpected,” Oh god, I don’t think I can take this song.

  “You changed my life, I hope you know. ‘Cause now I’m lost, so unprotected,” He has trouble getting out the last few words.

  “In the blink of an eye, I never got to say goodbye,” Fresh tears roll down both of our faces.

  “Like a shooting star, flying across the room. So fast, so far. You were gone too soon,” Kousuke, please stop. This song…

  “You're part of me, and I'll never be the same here without you… You were gone too soon,” I don’t think he’ll be able to finish the song. There’s no way. We’re both sobbing messes now.

  “You were always there, like shining light. On my darkest days, you were there to guide me. Oh I miss you now…” His lip wobbles and I think this is as far as he can get. How can you sing more than that?

  “I wish you could see…” Enough… “Just how much your memory will always mean to me.”

  He can’t go on. It’s become too much for his tired voice, but he continues on humming. He hums slower and slower until he becomes overpowered by drowsiness. The sun is just peeking up over the horizon when he hums his last painful note and his eyes finally shut.

  I want nothing more than to leave this corner and rush to his side. I want to curl up next to him and hold him and tell him everything is going to be ok. In a time like this, I want to cover his face in soft, comforting kisses and wipe his tears away.

  I curl up quietly and cry myself to sleep, remembering the devastation in his voice.

    In the morning, I wake up able to move freely. Was it all a dream after all? I’m lying on Kousuke’s bed, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I laugh to myself. It must have been a terrible, terrible dream. He’s at rehearsal with the other four right now. He woke up early and had to leave without saying goodbye. I’ve just woken up from a nightmare, but it’ll all be ok now, right?

  I’m able to convince myself of this until I want to turn the tv off, but I realize I can’t pick up the remote. I can’t pick anything up; it’s like it’s all glued in place. Just like every other time I’ve tried to pick something up in the last few weeks.

  One story on the news channel catches my attention. “Dancer Serizawa Kousuke of the popular group Angevil…” I read out loud and wait for the rest of the text to appear on screen. “Goes… Missing?!”

  He’s gone missing? Kousuke, where could you have gone…?

  Suddenly, his group appears on the tv, Tomoya in front. “Kousuke, if you can hear this,” he says. “Please come back. We’re so worried about you…”

  Ryuta jumps forward with tears in his eyes. “Kousuke, we know you’re going through a rough time, and we want to help you. Please,” He begs. “Please come back.”

  The program cuts off right then, and I throw my hands over my mouth. He’s broken and missing. Those two things do not mix. He’s getting himself into trouble, I just know it. I jump off the bed and run to the front door, grateful for my new ability to move. But I can’t budge the door handle. Right.

  “Fuck,” I mutter to myself.

  My eyes wander around the room, trying to find something I can do to get out, when my head is hit with a sudden wave of dizziness. It’s difficult to keep my balance, and I can’t see straight… I’m dead, what on earth is going on-?

  I don’t get the chance to finish the thought before collapsing to the ground.

    I wake up hours later- at my burial site. The scene brings tears to my eyes. I’m back to not being able to move much; forever stuck sitting with my back against my grave. A few minutes pass, and I see a figure limping this way. For a moment, it scares me, and my instincts say I should run. Of course, I can’t, and the person can’t see me anyway.

  The more time passes, the more anxious I become. The figure is becoming more and more recognizable as the distance between us closes, and I begin to notice the limping becoming more prominent.

  When he’s five or so feet away, I can finally tell who it is. It’s dark and hard to see, but I’d know that figure anywhere.

  “Kousuke,” I gasp.

  He flinches when I say his name, but doesn’t react in any other way. I try to take a closer look at him to figure out why he was limping. He’s changed back into the suit he wore on the day I was buried. His face is bruised and battered, and he’s clutching at his side tight. The skin on his hand has been painted red with blood, as well as the clothing in the area. He’s been stabbed.

  My tears fall harder as I watch him try to sit in front of me- my grave- but he just collapses on the grass, squeezing his eyes shut at the pain it brings.

  “Hey,” He wheezes. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to visit sooner. I didn’t know what I’d say… Not until now, at least.”

  A small smile appears on his face. “You know what they told me happened when you died?” I don’t remember what happened after talking to him on the phone.

  “They said it wasn’t suicide,” Huh? But, that was my intention…

  “Not really, anyway. They said you had one of your med bottles next to you, as if you were going to take the entire thing. But you didn’t,” I didn’t?

 Kousuke

  “Maybe you couldn’t bring yourself to. But I want you to know that I realized you were going to do it for me. You didn’t want me to worry anymore, right? It was eating me alive, so if you erased yourself from the picture I would be better, right?

  “I know you. And you know me. So you should have known that that wouldn’t have solved anything.” The effort of speaking is becoming too draining for me. My voice is getting weaker and I keep stopping to wince and find a better position to lie in- in vain. I feel dumb speaking to thn air like this, but maybe she will hear. Somehow.

  “I wonder if you can see me right now. If you can, I hope it hurts.” It’s painful to say, but it’s true. “I hope you’re in pain seeing me like this. Because that’s exactly how I felt when I found you.

  “I wanted to die right then and there. I didn’t think I could go on without you. And for a long time, I couldn’t. But I finally managed to pick myself up, and for a few days, I was doing all right. You saw that, right? But then I started looking though pictures on my camera. I was searching for the ones from when Angevil went to the zoo-I wanted to get them printed for Ryuta’s birthday. But guess what I found?”

  “I found one of us. A picture of the two of us that I made Hiro take. We were sitting on a swing. Remember that? You were on my lap and I was swinging us. We were laughing and having so much fun that day. It was right after you were able to leave the hospital after a bad relapse, and my group wanted to celebrate with a picnic at the park. You were so strong…” My voice starts to shake.

  “That picture broke me down again. I just wanted you back. So. Bad. But I knew I could never have you back. And for a while, I couldn’t forgive you. I couldn’t forgive you for leaving me.

  “But do you know what changed my mind?” I’m trying so hard not to cry now. It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t want to know. I need to tell her.

  “When they told me it wasn’t an intended suicide after all. They told me you didn’t take the pills like you must have planned to. But you were collapsed and you weren’t breathing when I found you. You know why?

  “Because you didn’t take them. You needed those meds- the right amount, at least. In your panic you decided not to take them to kill yourself- And forgot to take them altogether. It sent you into an attack and you couldn’t breathe anymore. Cold skin, blue lips, not breathing- they’re all symptoms of an attack. But I couldn’t piece that together on my own. And didn’t call for an ambulance in time.

  “Do you understand? You did think of me, or at least you got too scared to go through with it. I forgive you because of that. But I can’t forgive myself. You were alive when I found you- I just couldn’t realize that. And no one called for an ambulance until my friends showed up twenty minutes after I got to you. They couldn’t save you…”

  I take a deep breath

  “And it’s all my fault.”

Lena

  “NO! NO IT ISN’T!” I scream at the top of my lungs. I don’t expect him to hear me.

  He lifts his head off the ground. “Le-chan? Lena, was that you?” I gape at him. “I must be going mental, but it sounded like you were yelling at me that it wasn’t my fault.”

  “It wasn’t,” I whisper.

  “It wasn’t? Le-chan?” He looks around, confused. “Don’t do this to me… I know I’m dying, but please tell me my mind isn’t playing tricks on me.”

  “No, Kousuke, I’m right in front of you…” I sob.

  He squints at my gravestone. “I can’t see you, but I can hear you.”

  “Kou-chan, I’m sorry. It’s not your fault, it’s mine. This is all my fault…”

  “Le-chan, shush… Don’t cry now. I have something to tell you,” He pulls out a small box from his jacket pocket. “I wanted to marry you.”

  He fumbles open the box, and inside is a beautiful gold ring shaped like a lily of the valley flower as if it would be wrapped around your finger. In each of the buds there’s a small diamond. My tears starting coming down harder.

  “Kou-chan, it’s beautiful… Yes. I would have said yes…”

  “I know you-” He’s cut off as he starts to cough. When he finally stops, his mouth is splattered with blood.

  “Kou-chan-!” I gasp. “Kousuke, how did you end up like this…?”

  “I can barely hear you,” Tears streak down his face, leaving trails in the grime on his cheeks. “I travelled far to find this ring, since it’s your favourite flower. I thought it would be special…” He goes into another coughing fit and drops the ring.

  “Darling…” I sob.

  “Did you hear about how I disappeared? I was looking for this. I was just going to bury it around here in the night for you…”

  “What happened, Kou-chan?”

  “I cut through an alley- I thought it would be faster. There was a gang in there that I didn’t notice at first… Not till it was too late.

  “They said I was trespassing. They beat me up and stabbed me twice, right here,” He moves his hand toward the stab wound again.” I managed to save the ring somehow… But they took everything else.”

  “Kousuke, I’m sorry…”

  “It’s not your fault… I was being careless… I didn’t plan to go this way,” He scoffs. “But maybe I’ll finally be able to be with you again…” His head falls to the ground and he shuts his eyes.

  “No- NO!” I shout. “You can’t die, Kousuke! I love you! Stay alive and chase your dreams! PLEASE.”

  “I love you too…” His voice is barely audible. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Kousuke!” I cry. I reach out with all my might and manage to grab his hand. With his last bit of energy, his squeezes mine before going completely limp. Tears blur my vision.

  His body is glowing. The sight is shocking and stops my tears for a moment. My mouth widens as I watch him sit up again- No, not him… His body is still lying dead on the ground. But another him- a Kousuke like me in my current state- He’s sitting up and looking me in the eyes. He’s glowing and slightly see-through, but he’s Kousuke.

  I hold see-through Kousuke’s hand and pull him toward me. In that moment, everything feels warm and welcoming, as if a large weight has been lifted from both of our shoulders. A rush of light surrounds the both of us, and, without saying a word, we agree to let it sweep us up.

  Finally, we’re at peace.

[andsotheintrovertwrites]

I'm about to post something I've been working on for a while.

I just need to finish up the ending and read it through again. This one has major trigger warnings though.

[andsotheintrovertwrites]

To be honest I posted that last story (First Time) without reading it over first and it was 2am so I'm sorry it's not my best

But it was a lot of fun to write and I took inspiration from my idol's short story uwu And I'm going to continue with the amusement park idea but it's not related to this one XD

[andsotheintrovertwrites]

First Time

  My hands are clamming up as my anticipation builds. She’s been asking for this for a long time, but I don’t know if I’m ready yet. I think I’ve said no too many times, and I saw real desperation in her eyes last time she asked, and I had to force myself to say yes. I couldn’t keep denying her of something that she wanted so bad. That’s what couples do, right?

  So here we are, in this dimly lit room; a bit of light flooding in from the entrance, the two of us close and anxious. I know she’s happy with my decision, though, and that’s what matters at the moment.

  I’ve never been good with things like this in the past. I’ve had close encounters and almost went through with it before, but I’ve never actually started. I’ve heard of getting a “weird feeling” at the height of it, or something. It scares me, and I think that’s weird for a guy of my age. Usually people aren’t scared. Usually they love the thrill and pleasure it brings them, but I just can’t relate to those thoughts. Some of my friends did it when they were so young, and they all told me it was the best. They said it was so much fun and once they’d done it once they wanted to do it over and over. All I could do was look at them with disbelief on my face. “How could you enjoy that?” I’d ask, shocked.

  They all told me it was normal to enjoy something like that. But again, I just can’t bring myself to jump on that boat.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” She asks me, noticing the worry on my face.

  I try to look at her with the least embarrassed expression I can manage, but my ears turn red when I see her beautiful face. “I’ll do it, for you…” I say quietly. I wanted to sound more confident, but in this current situation, I don’t know if that’s even possible.

  “You’re adorable, you know that?” She says gently, and cups my cheek with a warm hand. My heart speeds up and my blush deepens. “Are you really nervous?”

  “Sort of…” I train my eyes in a different direction, and she grabs my hand.

  “It’ll be fine, I promise you. You’ll have fun,” My pulse speeds up, and I think my hands start to shake.

  “It’s my first time…” I practically whisper.

  “I know, and I’m honoured to be with you for your first time,” She tells me, a smiling growing on her face. She’s so beautiful… “It’ll be ok if you’re with me.”

  “I’m scared,” I look up at her again, this time with real fear in my eyes. “I can’t…”

  “We should be starting soon,” She tells me. “This time will be quick; over before you know it. Andyou’ll have liked it, and then we can try out different things after.”

  “I really, really can’t,” I say, my voice shaking. “Please…”

  “Babe, I know you can do it. You’re a strong guy who canstep out of his comfort zone.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Please? For me?” She bats her eyelashes and for a moment I’m stunned. Maybe I can give in and do it, just for her.

  But then it happens.

  The buzzer signaling the start sounds and my panic builds. I push against my restraint and start screaming: “LET ME OUT.”

  After a minute of that and a disappointed look from my girlfriend, the bar flies up over my head and frees me. Within seconds I’ve jumped out of the car and sprinted down the stairs away from the coaster with tears in my eyes.

[andsotheintrovertwrites]

I'm Sorry...

  “I’m sooooooryyyyy…” He whines as he knocks on my bedroom door. I don’t answer.

  “I’m really sorry,” Trying again, his voice is starting to sound more sincere. “It was a stupid joke, I’m sorry. Please let me in?”

  Sitting with my back against the other side of the door, I sigh.

  “Pleeeeeeeeease?” I have to admit, I’m weak. I drag myself to my feet and brush myself off before putting my hand on the lock and turning it. The second he hears the click, he tries opening the door again.

  “Wait!” I shout, locking it before he has the chance to get in. “Wait until I say ok.”

  “Fine,” He whines.

  I unlock the door again and turn around to jump on the bed- intending to hide underneath the covers. Although I only make it two steps before he bounds through the doorway and wraps me in a hug from behind.

  “I said wait,” I snap, my patience wearing thin.

  “I’m really sorry,” He says into my hair. “Please don’t be angry with me.”

  I can’t help but melt into his embrace. “It’s ok, I guess…” I trail off, my face turning red.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you like that; I wasn’t thinking…”

  “You obviously were thinking about it!” I scoff and try to pull away, but he only holds me tighter.

  “I wasn’t! It was a ‘spur of the moment’ thing, I swear! I thought something along the lines of ‘hey, wouldn’t it be funny if…’ and that happened,” He tries to defend himself, but I don’t believe him for a second.

  “Listen, maybe I would buy your excuse- Maybe I wouldn’t be as mad if that were true. But no one on this earth dresses up in a horror mask and black robe to jump out and scare the shit out of someone as a ‘spur of the moment’ thing.” I tell him, slowly coming back to my senses.

  “Well…” He starts, but can’t find a way to continue.

  “Exactly,” I finally unlatch his arms from around my waist and turn to face him. “Was the mask really necessary? You nearly gave me a heart attack. Plus it’s dark out.”

  “I’m sorry,” He hangs his head in defeat. “It won’t happen again.”

  “It better not,” I smile at him, my anger starting to fade away.

  “Just like…” He direct his gaze at the floor, but I start to see a guilty expression wash over his face.

  “Just like what?” I narrow my eyes.

  “JustlikeIwon’tlookinyoursketchbookwhenyoutellmenottoeveragain,” He speaks at a rapid pace and in a nearly incoherent mumble, but I understand what he says perfectly.

  “You did what?” I can’t believe this.

  “I wanted to know why you said I couldn’t-” He tries, but I don’t let him continue.

  “There was a reason I said not to,” I practically snarl at him, and he looks more at fault than ever.

  I wait a few seconds for him to reply, but when he stays silent I decide to storm over to my original destination. I throw the covers up and climb under them; effectively hiding my frustrated face from him.

  “God- I’m really sorry…” He starts walking and a few seconds later I can feel him sit down at the edge of the bed and lean over. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s too late to be sorry,” My voice is muffled by the blankets, so he reaches out to try and pull them off of me. “Stop…” I tell him, but I let them fall softly on my lap. I still refuse to make eye contact, though.

  “Look at me,” He says, but I stand my ground. “Come on, look at me,” When I don’t respond again, he leans in a gently plants a kiss on my cheek and asks again. I blush slightly but still stay quiet, earning another kiss on my cheek and another on my nose. “Please?” He asks, and all my defences are broken. I pout up at him and he smiles in return.

  “I didn’t see anything,” He tells me softly. “I felt too bad about even opening it to the first page, which I’ve seen so many times.”

  “Really?”

  “Really,” He assures me. “I don’t know why you didn’t want me to look, I promise.”

  I stop to think for a few seconds, and a sudden realization hits me. Glancing at the clock, I see that it’s almost time. “Do you want to see?”

  His face lights up as I ask the question. “I do!” He tells me excitedly.

  “One second,” I hold up a finger and try not to smile too widely at him before the surprise. Ilift myself off the bed and pad into the living room to grab my book. As I return to my room, I flip to the appropriate page and look at the clock again. A few more seconds, and…

  There. I sit back down on the bed with him and hold out the drawing for him to see. After a while of him just staring at it with his mouth open in surprise, I actually see tears starting to form in his eyes.

  “It’s us,” He practically chokes out.

  It is us. I drew a picture of the two of us; him hanging his arm over my shoulder and me kissing his cheek, finished with a birthday banner hanging in the background.

  “Happy birthday,” I tell him, my excitement growing. He reaches up to wipe his eyes and I giggle.

  “I’m not crying,” He tells me, but he’s so obviously choking back tears that I automatically forget about the drawing and wrap my arms around him.

  “I’ve been working on it for a long time, and didn’t want you to see it till now,” I explain.

  “It’s so beautiful,” He laughs; a sound that’s music to my ears. “Thank you so much,” He pulls me closer and holds on tight.

  “I love you,” I tell him, happy as can be.

  “I love you, too,” He says gently, and I know I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else with anyone else.

[andsotheintrovertwrites]

What Was Once Deemed Impossible

  The case of Saito Kousuke had been perplexing me for days. He was a young, healthy person- at least from what his autopsy results showed me. I have been a forensic pathologist for fifteen years now, and never have I seen a case so peculiar as that of Kousuke’s.

  I could not, for the life of me, determine how this boy died. There was no physical damage on his body; no internal complications. I looked him over again and again, for as long as my time restraints with the body allowed me to. Every single time I came up with nothing- Other than the fact that he seemed to have a large amount of dirt under his fingernails.

  There was no logical explanation to this case, no matter how much I twisted and turned to see it from every possible angle.

  Kousuke was in his early twenties, with only a library card that had his name scrawled on the back found on his person. He was discovered in a cemetery by an elderly couple that had driven a long way to visit their deceased son. Here is the story I was given: Upon reaching the grave, they noticed our Kousuke standing approximately fifty feet from where they were located. He lowered himself to his knees and doubled over, but it could not be confirmed what he was doing from that point on as his hands were no longer visible to the couple. They paid no further notice to the young man, and returned to paying their respects. Twenty-six minutes later, the woman happened to glance back to Kousuke and was greeted with the sight of him collapsing to the ground. She tapped her husband on the shoulder and pointed to (the now presumably dead) Kousuke, who in turn agreed to go a bit closer to investigate. As he got near, he noted that Kousuke was wearing a black worn out suit- But not properly. Half of his collar was jutted upwards and his tie looked like it had been tied in the dark by a child. His shoes were untied completely and the buttons on his jacket were not secured in their designated holes, but rather one place higher than they were meant to be, resulting in a strange lopsided appearance. The man wrote it off, deciding that Kousuke was most likely drunk and had passed out. He said that he thought Kousuke would be back on his feet within minutes.

  He was not, though. At that point he was most definitely already lost.

  Twenty-four minutes later, when the couple finally tore themselves away from the grave of their loved one, they agreed that it would only be right to check on Kousuke once more. Naturally, in the presence of a graveyard, no one would want to take any chances. This is when they realized he was no longer breathing.

  Within thirteen minutes, paramedics and police had shown up to the scene and pronounced Kousuke dead- At which point the poor old woman had lost her composure and broke down into tears. She said she was remembering the day she had discovered her son’s body.

  I wish I had been able to attend the scene that day. It would have allowed me a new perspective on the matter, and I may have progressed faster.

  My only job is to examine bodies and announce how they had died. But I went further with this case; there was something so strange about it that I just could not let go. So I looked further into the report files from that day.

  Saito Kousuke: No address, phone number, family, or friends could be found linked to his name. I thought it to be quite curious, like he had escaped home and cut off all ties and previous relationships. “Saito Kousuke” may not have even been his real name, for all I know. We did not have one solid piece of identification. The state in which his clothes were lead me to believe that he may not have owned much else to wear. The jacket was in better shape than most of the articles, but his shirt had signs of wear and was even beginning to rip at the sleeves. Perhaps he had left home after all.  

  On my second day of searching, I decided to look up the photos of the scene again, hoping to be able to see them with a new perspective. My desperation was growing. The first new thing I noticed was that he had the most peaceful expression on his face in death; as if he was only sleeping. And for a split second, I believed that Kousuke was only sleeping and that he was not dead. That he would be able to return to wherever he could call home with a smile on his face. Although the thought was gone as soon as it had appeared.

  The second thing to catch my attention as I scanned the picture was that he holding his right hand up to his chest in a way that lead me to believe that he was in pain. But his face was so peaceful that the idea of him being in discomfort seemed almost outrageous. So the next best (and most logical) explanation was that he was trying to cherish something. Or perhaps he was not physically in pain, but in a mental state of agony.

  The final thing was that the location looked familiar to me. The case of this young man brought back strong memories from a previous case I had been working on. Eleven days ago, seven days before Kousuke’s death, they had brought in a girl in her twenties that had died of a non-lethal lung disease- Non-lethal if you receive the proper care. There were very little signs of treatment for her condition, and I concluded that she had no other choice but to let it slowly eat away at her lungs until she died a painful death weeks later. She, like Kousuke, had no link to any other person and had a non-official piece of identification on her; again seeming like the person in question had run from home and had nowhere to go. Unlike Kousuke, though, she seemed like she had been properly cared for after death. Her clothes were fresh and new and her hair was neat and tidy; when she was found her body was lain across a park bench in the middle of the night. The most perplexing part about her case was that I was not able to find a single trace of finger prints or hair from someone else on her person.  

  All she received was a small unceremonious funeral- The only attendees being those that spent the short time working on her case, like myself. The location in the picture was most definitely the cemetery they buried this girl at.

  At this point in time, I could only be left wondering whether it was pure coincidence that these two cases sounded so similar. With one exception: Kousuke’s cause of death was still left undetermined.

  The day after I found this connection, the woman from the scene called the police station with newly remembered information. She told them that she remembered seeing Kousuke clutching a small object in his right hand. She could not recollect whether he still had it when they went to check on him; at that point her memory started to cloud over.

  There had been no objects found at the scene other than his card.

  The investigators discarded this information as there was no evidence to it being true. They thought she was having he memories altered by the shock of the situation, but I was completely immersed in this case with a new lead. I decided it was time that I visited the scene for myself. I knew exactly where the location was; it had only been a week since I was last here. Pulling into the parking lot, I could not stop thinking about the lonely funeral the girl had received.

  After spending a few minutes paying my respects at her grave, I turned my attention to the ground and grass. There was a large tree nearby, surrounded by overgrown grass that had been left alone due to the area not being ideal for graves. That was the first place I looked.

  After turning up with nothing, I stopped to rethink my options. The investigators must have already given the area a thorough searching, but there were certain things they are not allowed to meddle with. Burial sites, for example.

  I was frustrated. I had spent much effort attempting to solve this case, even though it was not in my job description. All I had to do was perform autopsies.

  In that moment, I thought back to what Kousuke’s autopsy had shown me.

  Pieces started falling together in my mind, and my last resort was to check around the girl’s grave for irregularities in the earth. My sharp eyes and willingness to bend the rules a bit allowed me to finally make progression in my search. In a matter of minutes, I found it. It was the slightest lump in the even ground that even I almost did not spot. The grass did not look anything out of the ordinary; it was placed back to near perfection.

  I silently sent an apology to the girl for disrupting her slumber, and started to dig with the utmost care. In three minutes, I had unearthed a small white box with a note attached. All it read was:

  In the next moments, two things occurred. The first being I knew I had solved the mystery of the death of Saito Kousuke, no matter unfounded my theory sounds, no matter how many times I have heard it only happens in fiction.

  The second thing was that I knew this was the first time I had ever shed tears over a case.

  The two cases were connected after all. Inside the dirt covered box was a small and stunningly beautiful diamond ring.

[andsotheintrovertwrites]

What Was Once Deemed Impossible

I have an updated version of this posted. Probably should read that one instead 

  The case of Saito Kousuke had been perplexing me for days. He was a young, healthy person- at least from what the autopsy results tell me. I have been a forensic pathologist for fifteen years now, and never have I seen a case so peculiar as that of Kousuke’s.

  I could not, for the life of me, determine how this boy died. There was no physical damage on his body; no internal complications. I looked him over again and again, for as long as my time restraints with the body allowed me to. Every single time I came up with nothing- Other than the fact that he seemed to have a large amount of dirt under his fingernails.

  There was no logical explanation to this case, no matter how much I twisted and turned to see it from every possible angle.

  Kousuke was in his early twenties, with only a library card with his name scrawled on the back found on his person. He was discovered in a cemetery by an elderly couple that had driven a long way to visit their deceased son. Here is the story I was given: Upon reaching the grave, they noticed our Kousuke standing approximately fifty feet from where they were located. He lowered himself to his knees and doubled over, but apparently it could not be confirmed what he was doing from that point on. They paid no further notice to the young man, and returned to their visit. Twenty-six minutes later, the woman happened to glance back to Kousuke and was greeted with the sight of him collapsing to the ground. She tapped her husband on the shoulder and pointed to (the now presumably dead) Kousuke, who in turn agreed to go a bit closer to investigate. As he got near, he noted that Kousuke was wearing a black worn out suit- But not properly. Half of his collar was jutted upwards and his tie looked like it had been tied in the dark by a child. His shoes were untied completely and the buttons on his jacket were not secured in their designated holes, but rather one place higher than they were meant to be. The man wrote it off, deciding that Kousuke was most likely drunk and had passed out. He said that he thought Kousuke would be back on his feet within minutes.

  He was not, though. At that point he was most definitely already lost.

  Twenty-four minutes later, when the couple finally tore themselves away from the grave of their loved one, they agreed that it would only be right to check on Kousuke once more. Naturally, in the presence of a graveyard, no one would want to take any chances. This is when they realized he was no longer breathing.

  Within thirteen minutes, paramedics and police had shown up to the scene and pronounced Kousuke dead- At which point the poor old woman had lost her composure and broke down into tears. She said she was remembering the day she had discovered her son’s body.

  I wish I had been able to attend that day. It would have allowed me a new perspective on the matter, and I may have progressed faster.

  My only job is to examine bodies and announce how they had died. But I went further with this case; there was something so strange about it that I just could not let go. So I looked further into the report files from that day.

  Saito Kousuke: No address, phone number, family, or friends could be found linked to his name. I thought it to be quite curious, like he had no one to look out for him in a time of need. “Saito Kousuke” may not have even been his real name, for all I know. We did not have one solid piece of identification.

  On my second day of searching, I decided to look up the photos of the scene that I do not have permission to access; my desperation was growing. The first thing I noticed was that he had the most peaceful expression on his face in death; as if he was only sleeping. And for a split second, I believed that Kousuke was only sleeping and that he was not dead. That he would be able to return to wherever he could call home with a smile on his face. Although the thought was gone as soon as it had appeared.

  The second thing to catch my attention was that the name on the small and simple grave he collapsed near was completely clear. I remembered the name from a past case, actually. Eleven days ago, seven days before Kousuke’s death, they had brought in a girl in her twenties going by this name that had died of an incurable and lethal lung disease. She, like Kousuke, had no link to any other person and had a non-official piece of identification on her. All she received was a small unceremonious funeral- The only attendees being those that spent the short time working on her case, like myself.

  At this point in time, I could only be left wondering whether it was pure coincidence that these two cases sounded so similar. With one exception: Kousuke’s cause of death was still left undetermined.

  The day after I found this connection, the woman from the scene called the police station with newly remembered information. She told them that she remembered seeing Kousuke clutching a small object in his right hand for the short while he was standing and staring at the ground. She could not recollect whether he still had it when they went to check on him; at that point her memory started to cloud over.

  There had been no objects found at the scene other than his card.

  The investigators discarded this information as there was no evidence to it being true. They thought she was having her memories altered by the shock of the situation, but I was completely immersed in this case with a new lead. I decided it was time that I visited the scene for myself. I remembered the location well, having attended the girl’s funeral. After spending a few minutes paying my respects at her grave, I turned my attention to the ground and grass. There was a large tree nearby, meaning the grass around it would be slightly overgrown due to mowers not being able to get close enough. That was the first place I looked.

  After turning up with nothing, I stopped to rethink my options. The investigators must have already given the area a thorough searching, but there were certain things they are not allowed to meddle with. Burial sites, for example.

  I was frustrated. I had spent much effort attempting to solve this case, even though it was not in my job description. All I had to do was perform autopsies.

  In that moment, I thought back to what Kousuke’s autopsy had shown me.

  Pieces started falling together in my mind, and my last resort was to check around the girl’s grave for irregularities in the earth. My sharp eyes and gentle touch I gained from my profession gave me an advantage none of the other investigators had.

  In a matter of minutes, I found it. It was the slightest lump in the even ground that even I almost did not spot. The grass did not look anything out of the ordinary; it was placed back with the utmost care.

  I silently sent an apology to the girl for disrupting her slumber, and started to dig with a steady and mindful hand. In three minutes, I had unearthed a small white box with a note attached. All it read was:

      In the next moments, two things occurred to me. The first being I knew I had solved my very first case on my own, and the second being I knew this was the first time I had ever shed this many tears over a case.

  Inside the dirt covered box was a small, stunningly beautiful diamond ring.