[Fic] Echo Of The Broken (drabble)
Title: Echo Of The Broken
Character: Kawashima Noeru
It’s a long way until the water. The waves keep crashing on the rocks, splashing water drops all around. Everything painted in sorrow, the clouds dark and heavy above his head.
Noeru keeps standing at the edge of the cliff, keeps staring down at the sea. The force of the wind is strong, yet not strong enough to move him. The long black wings touch the ground, not stirring, not trying. The thin silver chain he’s clenching, it’s beginning to turn cold in his hand. Still red at the end. Still stained.
The gusts of air, they still challenge him to move, play with the long dark strands of his hair. Barefoot, it feels pointless to move, to step to the front or step to the back. The wind keeps howling, tries to steal some feathers. What does it matter if the wind rips his wings off? What does it matter if they rip his wings off?
They’ve ripped his soul anyway, turned his heart cold, shattered his faith.
He stretches his hand out, takes one step closer to the edge. Fingers are shaking as they open, letting go of the chain. He follows the fall with his eyes, never hears the sound as it gets swallowed by the water. What would it matter if he carried it with him? What would an object matter when he’s lost everything else?
The clouds are getting thicker, darker, seem to hide the sky completely. Noeru looks at them a little longer, tries to find that warmth in him again. The faith.
Only the cold, empty echo of his heart. The faint sound of the piano in the candle-lit bedroom, buried in his memories.
He jumps, wings flapping against the wind. Frozen like the clouds, that’s where he flies off to.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Character: Kawashima Noeru
It’s a long way until the water. The waves keep crashing on the rocks, splashing water drops all around. Everything painted in sorrow, the clouds dark and heavy above his head.
Noeru keeps standing at the edge of the cliff, keeps staring down at the sea. The force of the wind is strong, yet not strong enough to move him. The long black wings touch the ground, not stirring, not trying. The thin silver chain he’s clenching, it’s beginning to turn cold in his hand. Still red at the end. Still stained.
The gusts of air, they still challenge him to move, play with the long dark strands of his hair. Barefoot, it feels pointless to move, to step to the front or step to the back. The wind keeps howling, tries to steal some feathers. What does it matter if the wind rips his wings off? What does it matter if they rip his wings off?
They’ve ripped his soul anyway, turned his heart cold, shattered his faith.
He stretches his hand out, takes one step closer to the edge. Fingers are shaking as they open, letting go of the chain. He follows the fall with his eyes, never hears the sound as it gets swallowed by the water. What would it matter if he carried it with him? What would an object matter when he’s lost everything else?
The clouds are getting thicker, darker, seem to hide the sky completely. Noeru looks at them a little longer, tries to find that warmth in him again. The faith.
Only the cold, empty echo of his heart. The faint sound of the piano in the candle-lit bedroom, buried in his memories.
He jumps, wings flapping against the wind. Frozen like the clouds, that’s where he flies off to.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………