Promise (One-shot)
Title: Promise
Chapters: N/A
Author: konicoffee
Genre: Romance, Drama, tiny bit of angst
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story.
Warnings: Nothing, unless you feel I should warn you about het romance.
Rating: G
Pairings/Characters: Tora's parents
Band: Alice Nine
Synopsis: In the middle of my ranting, something soft nudged me on the cheek. I slowly opened my eyes, somewhat relieved that I had an ally in this lonely world. And I saw him.
Comments: I wanted to try something a little different (and cheer myself up a little), so I wrote this. Told in the mom's POV. Inspired from a manga by Keiko Nishi.
When I was a small child, my mother accidentally left me somewhere in a train station. As any normal child would do when he or she feels lost, I shouted at the top of my lungs for my missing mother. No one paid me any heed. To them, I was nothing but an insignificant child who would cause them more trouble than benefit. With the lack of attention I was getting, I cried even harder, drowning out the sound from the crowds and the incoming trains.
In the middle of my ranting, something soft nudged me on the cheek. I slowly opened my eyes, somewhat relieved that I had an ally in this lonely world. And I saw him.
A boy, about seventeen, face glowing with unnatural cheerfulness. He wore a navy blue school uniform with its traditional high collar, and he held out a single rose. "A lady shouldn't cry like that," he said, offering the rose to me. "There now, that's a girl."
All I could do was stare at him as he wiped my tears, and no words escaped me as he placed me on his shoulders. "Let's go look for your mother now."
I finally smiled, and my sobs ceased. There was something vaguely familiar about how he felt with me. Children have that talent, sensing personalities on a person. It just felt so right to be by his side.
Not too long after he found me, he set me down and left. "Be happy," were his last words.
Almost immediately after he disappeared, I spotted my mother. She was talking to a group of friends, oblivious of the outside world, me forgotten. "I've been looking all over for you!" She told me. "Where did you get that rose?"
In time, I forgot about the boy, almost as soon as the rose he gave me wilted. Being a child then, I didn't care much for posterity. That rose was tossed away like a discarded toy. Never to be remembered, never to be mourned for. That's the saddest thing about death, I guess. It may be also one of the reasons why we fear death. We fear that no one would remember that we actually lived. That kind of thing is the most miserable conscious existence.
I had turned seventeen today. Today was also the day when my mother told me that she hated me. Strangely, her words didn't hurt too much; I had spent all my life feeling that she did despise me, and what she said today just confirmed it. I was rather relieved, actually, to find out once and for all. It at least put a stop to the gnawing possibility that she might have actually liked me and not noticing that was my failure.
My mother always told me that I was one of twins, but I took so long to come out that my brother was dead when the doctors finally got him out. Consequently, my mother blamed me for everything that happened in her life. For losing her son, and then her husband not too long afterwards. I didn't know why my mother became miserable, but in becoming miserable, she hated everyone. Especially me.
Sometimes I wondered what it would have been like if I had died instead of my brother. Would my family, particularly my mother, have been happier? The answer to all my questions was one and the same.
I had to get away.
I had been cutting classes for four days now. Most of the time, I walked around the area, passing through busy streets, letting myself disappear into the crowd. On other days, I sat quietly on a bench in the not-very-quiet train station, thinking. Today was supposed to be one of those days at the train station, except that this time, I actually hopped in a train car. To where, I wasn't sure. I didn’t care where I was going; the rage I had been bottling up for the longest time bubbled and swirled, ready to explode. Covering my ears with hands and squeezing my eyes shut, I stood in the train, never wanting to return. I did not have anything to live for, and I had just about as much as I could take. I wanted to end it.
Then I felt something touch my knee. I looked up and saw a stoic-looking man reading the morning paper, obviously trying to make the little nudge he gave me with his leg look non-intentional. Pervert, I thought. But as soon as he saw that I did notice him, his expression changed. Lust now coating his features, he rubbed his leg up against mine, raising the fabric of my skirt. Too scared to scream, I closed my eyes once more, praying for someone, anyone to help.
Without warning, the man gasped, and he was suddenly thrown a good ten feet away from me. With his expression now a mix of shock and pain, he gathered himself and walked away, disappearing into a crowd of commuters on the platform of the next stop.
I looked beside me and saw a familiar face - the very same one from the very same boy who rescued me at the train station a long time ago. He saved me again. "Are you alright?"
I merely gaped at him, shocked, unable to respond. That earned me a chuckle and a playful nudge. "Hey, this isn’t any way to treat an old friend."
With those words, my heart leaped to my throat. "What?" I croaked.
His response was but a gentle smile and a soft, "you really should be going back now." He then turned his back and seemed to disappear.
"B-but-"
It was too late. He was gone.
The next week, after a bad argument with my mother and her new boyfriend, I ran away from home.
I kept running until I found myself where I was the last time I ran away - the train station. Laughing quietly to myself, I proceeded to my usual bench. Other less crazy people would seek refuge somewhere else, somewhere quiet, but for some odd reason, I sought refuge where chaos and hazard were prevalent. I searched for sanctuary where there was danger. Quiet, torpid with grief and numb with my tears, I sat, barely seeing the objects around me.
"Hey, what are you doing here at this hour?"
As I looked up, I found myself face to face with him again, his figure a flash of blinding light against the dreary station. My first reaction was fear. Was he some kind of stalker? Or murderer? Or thief? But I saw the gentleness in his smile and the sincerity in his eyes, and from there I could tell that my doubts were unnecessary; I was safe.
Still, there was something vaguely familiar about him.
"Who are you?" I knew it sounded harsh but I couldn't stop myself.
"That's not important. You better be heading back home now, there are a lot of weirdoes going around." His answer was unnaturally cheerful. "Go on now, that's a girl."
I let myself be led into the train car. As he gently pushed me in, I asked, "when will I see you again?"
His smile grew wider. "If you want to see me, just call me. You will know." With those words, the train's doors slid shut and the car moved, taking him away from me, with that some of my security. And maybe a little bit of my sanity.
"Wanna do homework with me?" Math Class had just ended and already Hiroshi, some random guy in my class, approached me with the question. Ever since Hiroshi sat beside me last year, he had been acting chummy with me. His audacity made me hate him even more.
"No," I answered sharply while clearing my desk. Then I stopped and turned to him. "I'm sorry," I said a little more gently, "I have club duties to do." I gave him the sweetest smile I could muster. To me, it tasted synthetic.
But he still persisted. "I could help you out. It's really no trouble."
"You needn't worry," I told him and headed out of the classroom. I probably left him scratching his head in wonder. And possibly disgruntlement.
The whole time I ran to the train station, my head brimmed with thoughts of my strange friend; I had to prove it to myself, and he had to prove it to me. I'd be damned if he wasn't some weird stalker, but I wanted to see him again. I needed to hear his strange wisdom once more. And more importantly, I had to prove that he wasn’t just a strange dream, a defense mechanism that engaged whenever I felt down . My mind whirled, thoughts of the boy churning rapidly, until I could not think straight anymore. Soon I found myself running aimlessly, letting my feet carry me to where I was supposed to go.
Reaching the station, I proceeded to the same bench. Certain that he would come, I sat there, and I waited. And waited. And waited some more. Still he didn’t appear to nudge me out of my depression.
I left the train station, more depressed now than I was at first. Why? The question beat in my head at a maddening rhythm. Could it be that I had craved his company so much that God decided to take him away to bother some other person even more forlorn than I was?
He was gone. He was really gone.
With a heavy heart, I tried to find my way home. For some reason, I didn't take the usual route going there. Instead, I stalled and walked through a different road. As I saw old playgrounds, familiar buildings, and old street signs, I started remembering things that happened to me, from my childhood to my present. Scrapes on my knee, conversations with people, and beautiful sights. Laughter and tears. I had bad times, and I had wonderful times.
I remembered all this and I couldn't help but smile. All this time, I realized, I was trying to grow up too fast. And in my obsession to mature and present myself as that, I failed to realize what a selfish bitch I was for wanting to get away. This was where I lived. This was home.
And I was lucky to have been born.
With watery eyes, I looked up from the ground I was staring at, and a light flashed before me - the same one that I saw when I first encountered the boy in the station more than ten years ago. As it was before, a translucent light surrounded him, making him look otherworldly.
"It's you," I breathed, never having felt so much relief. "You saved me again."
I started to run towards him, half-expecting him to put out a hand to stop me from going near him. But instead, he opened his arms out and welcomed me with a tight embrace.
"Have you found yourself now?" He whispered, his arms still around me.
I nodded, sobbing into his shirt. "I understand. I understand."
He loosened his embrace and slowly put me at arm's length. "You have no need of me anymore. I have to go now." He smiled sadly and took his hands off my shoulders, leaving me to feel an unnatural cold.
I looked at him one last time. He had amber-colored eyes like mine and when he smiled, he smiled like me. The tears I thought had dried came back. I finally found him, and I was going to lose him again. Just like I lost him in birth.
"Goodbye," he whispered, giving me one last smile. "I'll see you in Heaven, Sweetheart. I promise."
With that, he walked away. He was gone, really gone. My brother. My twin.
Shinji.
"There you are! I've been looking all over for you!"
I looked over my shoulder, and I saw Hiroshi running towards me holding his coat. I ran to meet him halfway, and as soon as we reached each other, I looked into his eyes, asking for an answer to an unknown question. He smiled and put the jacket on my shoulders. Feeling the warmth engulfing me, only then did I realize how cold the air actually was.
I looked heavenwards. Is this who you want me to be happy with?
Then something painted the sky. One, two, three and more strands of light flew across the heavens. A meteor shower. It had been almost a century since anyone ever saw one. Watching the sky glisten, I knew I was just given another miracle.
Taking Hiroshi’s hand, I walked by his side and headed back home. And for the first time in my life, my whole being felt nothing but contented serenity.
Chapters: N/A
Author: konicoffee
Genre: Romance, Drama, tiny bit of angst
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story.
Warnings: Nothing, unless you feel I should warn you about het romance.
Rating: G
Pairings/Characters: Tora's parents
Band: Alice Nine
Synopsis: In the middle of my ranting, something soft nudged me on the cheek. I slowly opened my eyes, somewhat relieved that I had an ally in this lonely world. And I saw him.
Comments: I wanted to try something a little different (and cheer myself up a little), so I wrote this. Told in the mom's POV. Inspired from a manga by Keiko Nishi.
When I was a small child, my mother accidentally left me somewhere in a train station. As any normal child would do when he or she feels lost, I shouted at the top of my lungs for my missing mother. No one paid me any heed. To them, I was nothing but an insignificant child who would cause them more trouble than benefit. With the lack of attention I was getting, I cried even harder, drowning out the sound from the crowds and the incoming trains.
In the middle of my ranting, something soft nudged me on the cheek. I slowly opened my eyes, somewhat relieved that I had an ally in this lonely world. And I saw him.
A boy, about seventeen, face glowing with unnatural cheerfulness. He wore a navy blue school uniform with its traditional high collar, and he held out a single rose. "A lady shouldn't cry like that," he said, offering the rose to me. "There now, that's a girl."
All I could do was stare at him as he wiped my tears, and no words escaped me as he placed me on his shoulders. "Let's go look for your mother now."
I finally smiled, and my sobs ceased. There was something vaguely familiar about how he felt with me. Children have that talent, sensing personalities on a person. It just felt so right to be by his side.
Not too long after he found me, he set me down and left. "Be happy," were his last words.
Almost immediately after he disappeared, I spotted my mother. She was talking to a group of friends, oblivious of the outside world, me forgotten. "I've been looking all over for you!" She told me. "Where did you get that rose?"
In time, I forgot about the boy, almost as soon as the rose he gave me wilted. Being a child then, I didn't care much for posterity. That rose was tossed away like a discarded toy. Never to be remembered, never to be mourned for. That's the saddest thing about death, I guess. It may be also one of the reasons why we fear death. We fear that no one would remember that we actually lived. That kind of thing is the most miserable conscious existence.
I had turned seventeen today. Today was also the day when my mother told me that she hated me. Strangely, her words didn't hurt too much; I had spent all my life feeling that she did despise me, and what she said today just confirmed it. I was rather relieved, actually, to find out once and for all. It at least put a stop to the gnawing possibility that she might have actually liked me and not noticing that was my failure.
My mother always told me that I was one of twins, but I took so long to come out that my brother was dead when the doctors finally got him out. Consequently, my mother blamed me for everything that happened in her life. For losing her son, and then her husband not too long afterwards. I didn't know why my mother became miserable, but in becoming miserable, she hated everyone. Especially me.
Sometimes I wondered what it would have been like if I had died instead of my brother. Would my family, particularly my mother, have been happier? The answer to all my questions was one and the same.
I had to get away.
I had been cutting classes for four days now. Most of the time, I walked around the area, passing through busy streets, letting myself disappear into the crowd. On other days, I sat quietly on a bench in the not-very-quiet train station, thinking. Today was supposed to be one of those days at the train station, except that this time, I actually hopped in a train car. To where, I wasn't sure. I didn’t care where I was going; the rage I had been bottling up for the longest time bubbled and swirled, ready to explode. Covering my ears with hands and squeezing my eyes shut, I stood in the train, never wanting to return. I did not have anything to live for, and I had just about as much as I could take. I wanted to end it.
Then I felt something touch my knee. I looked up and saw a stoic-looking man reading the morning paper, obviously trying to make the little nudge he gave me with his leg look non-intentional. Pervert, I thought. But as soon as he saw that I did notice him, his expression changed. Lust now coating his features, he rubbed his leg up against mine, raising the fabric of my skirt. Too scared to scream, I closed my eyes once more, praying for someone, anyone to help.
Without warning, the man gasped, and he was suddenly thrown a good ten feet away from me. With his expression now a mix of shock and pain, he gathered himself and walked away, disappearing into a crowd of commuters on the platform of the next stop.
I looked beside me and saw a familiar face - the very same one from the very same boy who rescued me at the train station a long time ago. He saved me again. "Are you alright?"
I merely gaped at him, shocked, unable to respond. That earned me a chuckle and a playful nudge. "Hey, this isn’t any way to treat an old friend."
With those words, my heart leaped to my throat. "What?" I croaked.
His response was but a gentle smile and a soft, "you really should be going back now." He then turned his back and seemed to disappear.
"B-but-"
It was too late. He was gone.
The next week, after a bad argument with my mother and her new boyfriend, I ran away from home.
I kept running until I found myself where I was the last time I ran away - the train station. Laughing quietly to myself, I proceeded to my usual bench. Other less crazy people would seek refuge somewhere else, somewhere quiet, but for some odd reason, I sought refuge where chaos and hazard were prevalent. I searched for sanctuary where there was danger. Quiet, torpid with grief and numb with my tears, I sat, barely seeing the objects around me.
"Hey, what are you doing here at this hour?"
As I looked up, I found myself face to face with him again, his figure a flash of blinding light against the dreary station. My first reaction was fear. Was he some kind of stalker? Or murderer? Or thief? But I saw the gentleness in his smile and the sincerity in his eyes, and from there I could tell that my doubts were unnecessary; I was safe.
Still, there was something vaguely familiar about him.
"Who are you?" I knew it sounded harsh but I couldn't stop myself.
"That's not important. You better be heading back home now, there are a lot of weirdoes going around." His answer was unnaturally cheerful. "Go on now, that's a girl."
I let myself be led into the train car. As he gently pushed me in, I asked, "when will I see you again?"
His smile grew wider. "If you want to see me, just call me. You will know." With those words, the train's doors slid shut and the car moved, taking him away from me, with that some of my security. And maybe a little bit of my sanity.
"Wanna do homework with me?" Math Class had just ended and already Hiroshi, some random guy in my class, approached me with the question. Ever since Hiroshi sat beside me last year, he had been acting chummy with me. His audacity made me hate him even more.
"No," I answered sharply while clearing my desk. Then I stopped and turned to him. "I'm sorry," I said a little more gently, "I have club duties to do." I gave him the sweetest smile I could muster. To me, it tasted synthetic.
But he still persisted. "I could help you out. It's really no trouble."
"You needn't worry," I told him and headed out of the classroom. I probably left him scratching his head in wonder. And possibly disgruntlement.
The whole time I ran to the train station, my head brimmed with thoughts of my strange friend; I had to prove it to myself, and he had to prove it to me. I'd be damned if he wasn't some weird stalker, but I wanted to see him again. I needed to hear his strange wisdom once more. And more importantly, I had to prove that he wasn’t just a strange dream, a defense mechanism that engaged whenever I felt down . My mind whirled, thoughts of the boy churning rapidly, until I could not think straight anymore. Soon I found myself running aimlessly, letting my feet carry me to where I was supposed to go.
Reaching the station, I proceeded to the same bench. Certain that he would come, I sat there, and I waited. And waited. And waited some more. Still he didn’t appear to nudge me out of my depression.
I left the train station, more depressed now than I was at first. Why? The question beat in my head at a maddening rhythm. Could it be that I had craved his company so much that God decided to take him away to bother some other person even more forlorn than I was?
He was gone. He was really gone.
With a heavy heart, I tried to find my way home. For some reason, I didn't take the usual route going there. Instead, I stalled and walked through a different road. As I saw old playgrounds, familiar buildings, and old street signs, I started remembering things that happened to me, from my childhood to my present. Scrapes on my knee, conversations with people, and beautiful sights. Laughter and tears. I had bad times, and I had wonderful times.
I remembered all this and I couldn't help but smile. All this time, I realized, I was trying to grow up too fast. And in my obsession to mature and present myself as that, I failed to realize what a selfish bitch I was for wanting to get away. This was where I lived. This was home.
And I was lucky to have been born.
With watery eyes, I looked up from the ground I was staring at, and a light flashed before me - the same one that I saw when I first encountered the boy in the station more than ten years ago. As it was before, a translucent light surrounded him, making him look otherworldly.
"It's you," I breathed, never having felt so much relief. "You saved me again."
I started to run towards him, half-expecting him to put out a hand to stop me from going near him. But instead, he opened his arms out and welcomed me with a tight embrace.
"Have you found yourself now?" He whispered, his arms still around me.
I nodded, sobbing into his shirt. "I understand. I understand."
He loosened his embrace and slowly put me at arm's length. "You have no need of me anymore. I have to go now." He smiled sadly and took his hands off my shoulders, leaving me to feel an unnatural cold.
I looked at him one last time. He had amber-colored eyes like mine and when he smiled, he smiled like me. The tears I thought had dried came back. I finally found him, and I was going to lose him again. Just like I lost him in birth.
"Goodbye," he whispered, giving me one last smile. "I'll see you in Heaven, Sweetheart. I promise."
With that, he walked away. He was gone, really gone. My brother. My twin.
Shinji.
"There you are! I've been looking all over for you!"
I looked over my shoulder, and I saw Hiroshi running towards me holding his coat. I ran to meet him halfway, and as soon as we reached each other, I looked into his eyes, asking for an answer to an unknown question. He smiled and put the jacket on my shoulders. Feeling the warmth engulfing me, only then did I realize how cold the air actually was.
I looked heavenwards. Is this who you want me to be happy with?
Then something painted the sky. One, two, three and more strands of light flew across the heavens. A meteor shower. It had been almost a century since anyone ever saw one. Watching the sky glisten, I knew I was just given another miracle.
Taking Hiroshi’s hand, I walked by his side and headed back home. And for the first time in my life, my whole being felt nothing but contented serenity.