BGM: Mozaik Role (Music Box Edition)It was cold - or at least, as cold as it usually got here - outside, prompting me to don my usual winter attire before exiting my home. As I fastened my trademark red scarf - it clashed wildly with my long, pale blue hair as both trailed out behind me with each step, but I liked the color, and didn't let anyone convince me otherwise - around my neck, its soft, silky folds brushing against the bottom of my chin like a comforting hand, I mused on how melancholy the world seemed, everything covered by a hazy white blanket of snow - although the haze might have just been my accursed eyes acting up again, as they were ought to do - the flowers that had only just bloomed fading like an extinguished candle and falling on the gentle breeze, their death even more beautiful than their short life. In a way, people were just like those falling petals, weren't they? They were born into this cold, harsh world, without a hope of living beyond their destined hour, and yet they struggled against fate, fighting to become something beautiful, to shine forth like a brilliant star amidst the dark and confused mortal shell around them, so that before their end finally came and the reaper came to take them to their final rest, everyone after them would know that they had existed, that they had been a worthwhile being during their short time on this earth. But, at this point, it was clear I wasn't thinking about people anymore. Rather, I was thinking about myself, and how I, too, should like to live: to be known and loved, even after I was gone, and to be admired and praised during my short life. Yes... I should have liked to have been born a Sakura tree, so that every year I might spread forth my beautiful boughs like angelic wings, and bring joy to the world below by showering it with my soft, bright petals. Even though once those petals fell, I would fade and die as the snow covered my form, I could look forward to each coming spring as the hour of my rebirth, and to the happiness I could give to the people below during the short life that would follow. To have a thousand lives, all of which would be well-spent in making the world beautiful and in being admired... it was selfish of me to desire such an existence, but desire it I did.
As I slipped into my warm, fuzzy boots, it might have - or perhaps, should have - struck me as odd that nobody stopped me at the door to accost me about the normal things normal people normally spoke about. "Cleo, where are you going?" Or, "Cleo, you'll catch another cold if you go out in the snow in such a short skirt." Or perhaps, "Cleo, don't you have studying to do for school?" Or maybe, "Cleo, you should clean your room. It's been getting very dirty recently." Or even just a simple, "Cleo, where are you headed? Be sure to be back before lunchtime." But, wait as I might have, no such words came. My father, mother, and older brother were all assembled around the breakfast table, chattering away nonchalantly as mother served another plate of pancakes to the other two, my father perusing the morning paper and sipping his coffee while my brother talked about how he was doing in his engineering courses at college. I didn't need to pay attention to know how things had gone recently - my father's favorite team had lost the most recent game causing him, in turn, to lose money on his betting, my brother was acing all of his courses, and my mother was consoling the one and congratulating the other as she always did. They were all broken records, just playing the same words over and over again with each passing morning. Nothing ever changed. Everything was the same.
The pancakes made me think of breakfast, which in turn made me think of how hungry I was. I hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday, as I'd been occupied devising some important new formulae for my experiments from morning till night, and thus hadn't had the time to leave my room to attend dinner. It didn't matter, anyway. My "dinner" was just like my "lunch" and "breakfast," comprised of whatever leftovers I could scrounge up for myself to eat. And, that was what I was going to do when I returned after my little errand, when there was nobody to bother with my presence. Even if I was hungry enough to eat a feast right now, I would have to wait. Those pancakes weren't meant for me, and I knew it. Sure, nobody had ever told me outright I couldn't eat with the rest of the family, but they had made it obvious through their actions. Whenever I approached, the conversation went dead, and the others finished what they were doing and left the room as soon as possible. It was clear I was unwanted in their ordinary lives, and they made no attempt to hide that fact from me. So, I just did the sensible thing and didn't bother them - as much as it was possible to do so, anyway. What was the point of making yourself a burden for no reason, anyway?
Surely they saw me standing in the doorway, gazing in at them, but none of them turned to look at me, or showed any sign that I even existed. This was our usual morning routine. I would exist, and, in turn, they would treat me as though I did not. This was nothing out of the ordinary, so why did it still feel disappointing to me, even after all this time?
I decided not to think about it. The conversation around the table had died down to silence, as it always did when in my presence for an extended amount of time, which meant I was being bothersome again by standing in plain view and interrupting their meal. Yes, this was the only acknowledgement I would get that I was welcome to - in fact, encouraged to - leave as soon as possible and get out of their lives. So, I did so, turning and walking to the door, taking up my small, ragged backpack as I did so and slinging it over my shoulder. Despite its meager size, it was quite heavy thanks to all the equipment I had packed it with, and it took me a moment to adjust to the weight before I could walk again without falling on my face.
Once I had enough faith in my balance to walk again, I set out, silently sliding open the door and stepping out onto the wooden porch, glancing back at the large building I had just left.
Our house was rather vast by comparison to most others around it, having once been a much-frequented shrine before being converted to a more mundane purpose. It was a one story building that expanded along the ground rather than upward, with its endless mazes of tatami-floored rooms, rice-paper windows, and sliding doors leading out onto the roughly square, roofed porch area that served as its perimeter. The slightly elevated walkway also branched off at each corner, leading like a bridge over the expansive courtyard and gardens with their many flower beds and Koi ponds to several side buildings of the main house as if its vast area was simply not enough. In the eastern corner, there was a small guest house built along the side of a garage, these two connected buildings situated right next to the gate in the small, square stone wall that formed the boundaries of our home. In the western corner, there was a small dojo which had been erected to allow my brother to practice his kendo. In the southern corner, there was a small shed containing the various tools needed for yardwork, also serving as a storage space for unneeded items. This place was one I frequented, as its vast hordes of seemingly worthless objects no one cared about were like magical treasures in my eyes, and were often required at a later date for some of my experiments. But my favorite of the four branch buildings was none of these, no matter how intriguing all of them might be.
No, the place I most often was found was situated in the northern corner of our little court, surrounded by small sakura trees and comparatively large bushes and very tall stalks of grass, coming up almost to one's waist, all of which things were in similar states of disarray. At the center of this mess was a shabby tower, the paint of which was worn and chipped, its battered, conical roof reaching upward like a beaten but heroically unbowed head, the small terrace that surrounded this like a crown of thorns to complete the overall pitiful image the old building held. All of these things were so out of place amongst the otherwise pristine courtyard and garden, as though they had somehow been simply forgotten about, just as had been forgotten the one who called this tower home: namely, myself. Forsaken by the main house and its occupants, I had moved my quarters to this place, turning it into my last refuge, on the ramparts of which I would stand courageously and face down the outside world and all of its terrors, fighting bravely to the last against the insurmountable odds in the great unknown beyond its final safe boundaries. Ironically enough, though, although I said that, I found myself going outside regardless, into the big, scary world outside the walls of this rubbish heap I viewed as a castle, even as I lied to myself.
Turning away, I sighed. This was different. This was just another experiment, nothing more. I wouldn't have to talk to or bother anyone at all. It was just going to be me hiding out in a familiar, safe place, tucked away so that the nerve-wracking world couldn't touch me, just as I was in the belly of my tower. But for this experiment, I was going to need a link, a tie to my past - and, more importantly, to the people from that past - and I could only think of one such location: the ship. That place was where I had spent almost every day of my young life, from the moment I escaped from the fearful, cavernous halls of the place called "school" until the late hour at which I would finally have to return reluctantly to my lonely, solitary castle on the hill in the northern corner of the courtyard, and to watch alone on the balcony as the snow fell on the sleepy city, and as the lights that caught the falling flakes and danced with the stars through the night flickered out one by one. That sight, witnessed by myself alone, was one I desperately longed to share, but it, like the other magical things which only I could behold, was reserved for my eyes, and my eyes alone.
But, I was getting sidetracked. Right now, I needed to focus on reaching the old, wrecked ship along the shoreline, and on carrying out my mission. With these thoughts and goals weighing heavily on my mind, I plucked up my courage and headed into the great world of unknowns that awaited me as my boots crunched over the hard, new-fallen snow, my feet carrying me quickly between the half-open metal gates and out into the empty sidewalk. The cherry blossoms I so admired fell around me, mixed with the fluttering snowflakes as they danced together on the winds, a lively jig that carried them up and down the lane, like a vast curtain drawing back to clear my path. Despite the uncertainly nagging at my heart, and the fear of who I might encounter in this unsure world, I couldn't help but smile. The world was scary, true, but it was also beautiful. That was the reason I admired the sakura trees so, and felt so sad when they were gone.
The journey was largely uneventful. Although a few people besides myself occupied the street, I managed to sidestep them and continue on to my goal uninterrupted, although I did notice many people staring at me as I passed them. It was to be expected, though. My blue hair attracted a lot of attention. That was what it was for, after all. If everyone was looking at me, I couldn't afford to be careless or afraid, nor could I help but feel inspired to be impressive. With their eyes on me - which would have caused most people to feel embarrassed rather than proud - I felt like the world itself was gazing upon me, and I wasn't going to disappoint those countless watching eyes by shying away and acting all fearful and terrified. Reasoning thus, I held my head high, stood tall, and kept on walking until I reached my destination.
The boat was just as I had remembered it, even if I hadn't seen it for several years. After my rather... unpleasant... separation with my friends as they grew disappointed in me and left one by one, I had generally avoided the place due to the painful memories it brought back. Even now, it still recalled to my mind's eye their faces, names, and voices, the many things we had done together, and, finally, the fact that they were now gone, as though the precious comrades I had devoted my heart and soul to, that I had called to myself by my heart's desire, warping the very nature of fate itself in a desperate bid to wrest the happiness I so desired from the cruel, unfeeling world... as though they had never existed, had just been a lie I had believed once but had eventually been unable to trust in any longer.
My eyes were beginning to blur - more than they usually did, that is - so I quickly ceased walking down memory lane, as it were, and brushed the newly formed tears away with the soft sleeve of my sweater, not letting them - and, by extension, my own weakness and fragility - show for an instant to the world around me, which would surely exploit this opening to cause me grief, were it noticed. No, I would have to steel myself, and make my way onto the ship, as I had done so many times before in my childhood. I knew the way, having memorized it over the countless days I had spent in this very place, which to me was like a sacred place of pilgrimage, a holy fount of light untouched by the merciless world of blacks and grays around its pure and radiant hull. It was the last thing that was sacred about my childhood, the last memory left untouched by the tears that now streaked my entire waking life. It was this glorious joy that I was looking for, these happy recollections the last thing I needed to complete the charm I hoped to weave, the magic which would protect my life from sadness.
And so, I gathered my strength, and I placed one foot in front of the other. Step by step, inch by inch, I drew closer, fighting back the tears that threatened to breach my last cheerful sanctum and plunge the whole of my life into black. Slowly, I clambered over a large root which had grown into the battered wooden hull, and, taking a deep breath, stepped inside, the pockmarked deck above me covering me like a protective blanket, shutting out the world on the outside and bathing me in the familiar warmth of a world I had once dwelt almost solely in. It was like returning to an old home, and it brought back to my mind the same sorts of memories.
BGM: Happiness of MarionetteFor a moment, I simply spread my arms and slowly spun about, taking in the musty scent of the rotting wood, the quiet rustle of the wind blowing through the leaves of the tree growing on the ship's stern, the gentle lapping of the waves against the bow, as though the ship was not beached, merely in port, awaiting its captain and its old crew's return to run out the rigging, hoist the sails on the mainmast, to raise its old colors and to set out at last on its long awaited voyage into the great unknown. In an instant, the melancholy I had felt shattered like glass, the gloomy veil behind which I had viewed the world was torn asunder, and the light shone through for the first time in years. This was the last true sanctum of joy in the world. While striding through its venerable, ancient corridors, how could I feel in the least bit despairing, or sad? This was my world, even if I was alone in it, and it, unlike the dreary days outside, would be filled with nothing but life and joy! I was like the god of a new creation, taking the first steps into a new and yet ancient world! It mattered not that I was alone, for imagination and the magic of my heart would people this ship with a crew soon enough. Yes, at that moment, I believed that this ship really could sail, that I might find the elusive paradise I sought at last and live out the rest of my days in joy and bliss.
"Captain aboard!" I called with a laugh, unable to contain my joy as my own voice echoed back to me as though cried in welcome by a thousand loyal hands. I could almost hear the footsteps rushing over the deck, as the crew sprang to action, could almost see the faces of the comrades alongside which I had once crewed this vessel in my childhood fantasies. As I spun through that endless cavern without a care in the world, I indulged in that old dream, crying out orders in a joyous voice to my imaginary, phantom crew.
"Run out the rigging and hoist the mainsail!" I bellowed, the sound of my own shrill voice ringing through the dead, empty hull enough of a reply to suit my fancies. "Haul up the boarding ramp and prepare to cast off! Aye, and run up the colors, too! Today, gentlemen, we set sail, not for any Earthly port, but for lands unknown. No, our destination yet remains unseen by mortal eyes, ever a mystery, perhaps one which mankind will never uncover. But, even if that be so, I intend to find that mystical place, that land of gold and endless joy! It has been called by many names over just as many years, revered in legend of seaman and sailor just as long as it has been spoken of in the gossip of merchant and housewife back home on shore." At this point, I knew not to whom I was speaking, or even why, but I cared not, for my imaginary crew was listening on baited breath, their attention devoted solely to myself as I gave my speech, striding through the empty space below decks as I spoke, going from room to room in the vessel's cavernous belly. "Atlantis. Shangri La. El Dorado. It matters not by what name it is called, our destination remains the same. My hearties, today we set sail for glory, for riches, and for PARADISE!" My final roar echoed through the ship long after I had finished speaking, my own joyous laughter accompanying it like a reply from my invisible crew. However, before even the echoes of my ambitious speech could finish sounding through the derelict, I stepped through a doorway, and, to my surprise, found that the floor seemed to have moved slightly from how I remembered it, for my descending foot met not the firm ground it had anticipated, but soft, yielding matter which, due to being about half a foot higher than I had remembered, caused me to overbalance myself and fall face first. By the time I had overcome my initial surprise, my arms, spread to my sides as they were, could not be moved in time to catch myself, and I found my half-uttered cry of surprise muffled when my face was planted harshly against something warm and soft.
BGM: Hane"Ow.... What happened?" I groaned to myself, slowly pushing my suddenly-aching body to a half-seated position and pushing my skirt back down, as it had been blown upward by the sudden rush of my fall. Beginning to dust myself off as I opened my eyes once again, I glanced around, trying to see what had tripped me. To my surprise, however, what met my eyes was not a gap in the floor or some tree root, as I had expected, but...
To my shock, horror, and most of all, embarrassment, I had fallen into the lap of a young boy. His leg had been extended just a little way out into the doorway from where he sat at an angle to it, and had tripped me up when I placed my foot half on it, and half on the floor, causing me to stumble and fall directly on top of him. I was light, and small of stature, and there was a rather large barrel overturned behind him, meaning he fortunately managed to stay seated when I landed on him, leaving him sitting, bewildered, exactly as he was before I had made my sudden appearance, albeit likely much more confused than he had been. I, on the other hand, was in a much more awkward position. The manner in which I had landed was comfortable, to be sure, but that was hardly the issue, as it was "awkward" in a much more different sense.
I was straddling the boy's lap, my legs splayed out on either side of his own, wrapping around his waist in a manner that was much more intimate than I'd have preferred for someone I had presumably never met. My face had been, up until my rise to a seated posture, been buried in his shoulder, nestled in the hollow made by his still-upraised arms as they encircled me due to the manner I had, quite simply, fallen into them, with my own hands constrained and thus pressed tightly up against his chest - an error I quickly amended as soon as I noticed it, raising them to cover my mouth, hopefully muting the astonished gasp of shame that exited my wide open mouth unbidden, although nothing could conceal the violent shade of red that was spreading across my face, as though I were a chameleon trying to blend in with the hue of the scarf I wore. Worse than all this, however, was the fact that we weren't even alone. Another, similar looking youth was seated across from the boy, his mouth still open as though interrupted mid-sentence - probably by my raucous entry into the ship a few rooms back. Worse yet was the knowledge that my skirt had flown up during my fall, which meant both of them had surely seen clearly that I happened to be wearing black today!
I didn't consider myself the sort of person who was easily embarrassed. Honestly, I didn't even really understand why I should be, having little experience with members of the opposite sex besides my interaction with the males in my band of friends as a child, and having equally little knowledge of the instinctive drive I was supposed to have toward getting into positions like this. But something, deep down, told me that this was wrong, that the knowledge of the position I was in, and of what these two boys had seen - not to mention heard, considering the little speech I had given when I thought I was alone in the ship - should terrify me.
And terrify me it did. Swift as a bolt of lightning, I scrambled backward as though repulsed by an external force, falling unceremoniously on my rear as I did so, and giving a quiet squeak as I moved to prevent a repeat showing of my underclothes as my skirt tried to flutter up again. Forcing it violently down, I buried my face in my hands and shut my eyes tightly, as though willing them out of existence, or myself to another place - which, in a way, I was.
"They didn't see, they can't see...!" I muttered frantically under my breath, but even I know when to quit. The stares I was getting told me, quite plainly, that I HAD been seen, that I COULD be seen. It was far too late to render myself invisible, it seemed, so I simply dropped my hands and my head in defeat, hoping hopelessly that my bangs would somehow conceal my red cheeks just as they currently overshadowed my terrified blue eyes. All I could hope now was that they went away and left me alone, something which I knew wasn't going to happen. I couldn't cope with people! Oh, I'd been such an idiot, just going and assuming that nobody else would ever come to this place, that it was my sanctum and mine alone! Why hadn't I checked? Why hadn't I looked where I was going?
But one thing was clear: I could not go back to my childhood, nor could I relive the days of my past. My sanctuary, and, by extent, my happiness, had been breached, and there was nothing now left untouched by the passage of time.
(OOC: Just so you know, the person she
crash-into-hello'd (Warning, the following link leads to TV Tropes, and I will not be held responsible for hours of time wasted following it. Your life is in your own hands.) was Eden, mostly so he can lampshade how much it resembles a dating sim. =P Epic lulz shall now ensue.)
(Addendum: I got really, REALLY,
REALLY, REALLY, REEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLY carried away with this, didn't I?)