Ernest. Ernest Cuore.
How I missed him. I've been so lonely ever since he died, I don't think I'll ever be the same, outside or in. I feel like there's something missing, a hole from my heart. But I guess everyone who's experienced what I have would feel that way.
And Erts . . . He tries real hard to fill that hole, but he can't . . . I'm sorry to say, but Erts Virny Cocteau, Ernest's little brother, is just not enough for me, not big enough to fill that hole . . . That hole that takes up a vast majority of my heart.
As Gareas was the closest to Ernest, I look toward him for help but I suppose you could say we're both in the same boat . . . He's just as sad about Ernest's death as I am . . .
Now there's no one else for me to turn to. No one else was that close to him, except Erts, but as I said before, he's just not enough.
So I bottle myself up. That's the only thing I can do for now. Keep to myself, no one will bother me. I don't want to talk, and I don't want to be talked to. His voice is always ringing in my head, his face always pictured in front of my eyes, in my dreams. He haunts me even there.
I would have thought it impossible to think about someone this long after their death . . . Nearly three years, and I guess I've never really thought about it like this, but I suppose I have to now that that grief is mine to live, bottle, keep hidden away . . .
But that's just self-pity.
Erts's old repairer, Rome Lotte, tells me that the best thing to do would be to find someone and let it all out, all my emotions, and cry as much as I can because bottling myself and my emotions up and putting that bottle on the highest shelf imaginable just isn't the right solution.
But who can I talk to who will listen?
As I said before, I don't want to talk, and I don't want to be talked to. It's as simple as that. Azuma had me go to Rill for some kind of checkup because I seemed depressed. Rill offered anti-depressants. I refused. I'm not depressed, I'm just sad.
If I were depressed I'd be moping around not doing my job, be in sick-bay for a month. I'm not depressed, therefore I still perform to the maximum extent that my body will allow of me. I still repair the Renieghed Klein, although at times I do call it Luhma Klein, and I still come to training, and I'm still there during VICTIM battles.
I just miss Ernest and there's no one I can talk to who will understand my pain, emotions, and stressful position. I went to talk to Leena about it and she suggested seeing Rill about it. I've refused every suggestion about Rill since she tried to prescribe me those stupid anti-depressant pills.
But like I said, maybe this is just self-pity, a yearning for something, someone, to fill that gaping hole that was left open when the man who had completely stolen my heart died in a VICTIM battle. That hole, I swear, grows wider every day, and there's nothing I can do about it. It'll get bigger and bigger till I have no heart left . . .
It's just a gaping hole . . .
Author's notes: Okay, my first submitted MK fic, and it just happens to be a one-shot about how Tune is doing after Ernest's death, and it is, of course, in Tune's POV. R/R, tell me what you think . . . And if you like Metropolis I have four fics over there, and if you're a fan of Trigun, there's a couple of one-shots over there by me ^.^ Enjoy!