Disclaimer: As per usual, I don't own anything.
A/N: Hello people! I know that my long-time readers are angry at me for being away for so long (hides in a corner when said readers threw rotten tomatoes at the poor author), I give you a two-chapter story as a gift and peace offering. So please stop throwing tomatoes at me. The stories here is based on the popular vocaloid songs: Sarishinohara (Distant Fields) and Yon-juu nana (47). Again, as most of my long-time readers are aware, I'm a huge fan of FujiSaku and this is an example of it. Hope you guys have fun reading this like I did when I wrote it just now. ehehe...
A/N 2: Btw, this chapter is in Fuji's POV and the next one is Sakuno's. And please, for the love of all good things anime, don't tell me to update the story because I always write stories as it is and it's really getting on my nerves. I write when I feel like it and I would appreciate it if you'll only comment about the story and not to tell me to update it. I know that I didn't say anything about it before but really, us fanfic writers have life outside the fandom and don't spend every effing time writing for your every whim. Most, if not all, writers in the website write stories to de-stress themselves and to release their creativity. Telling them to 'update this and that' will make them be disgusted and write elsewhere, or worse, stop writing altogether. So please, give us writers a favor and stop harassing us to update stories because you're being impatient. If you want a story to be updated, encourage their creativity. Or better yet, YOU can write a story and post it here yourself.
As I walk down the streets of my hometown, Seishun City, looking around the shops that I had frequented in my youth, a poster caught my eye. It was the picture of the girl I had known when I was younger. She still look pretty much the same as back then, her hair still long and beautifully flowing, her skin still has that same rosy tint that I can't take my eyes off, her eyes that is still as expressive as before. But now, they reflect not the emotion I want to see in it, guarded and cold unlike the happiness and kindness I'm drawn in as before. The smile in the poster is not like before, to other people it might be beautiful, but to me it looked fake and sad.
I stopped walking and looked at the poster fully, hands in my pant pockets, my throat constricts with the emotions that overwhelms my being. I can't take my eyes off her; it's as if she's in front of me, as if she's really here. I want to touch her, but the ones that my fingers touched is just the piece of glossy paper with her beautiful face printed in it.
I bitterly smiled and withdrew my shaking hand from the picture. I bit my lower lip and covered my eyes with the very same hand I withdrew, my tears silently falling down my cheeks, slowly shaking my head as the images of my past flashes on my mind. All the memories, the moments in time, the emotions, all rolled in; flooding all my senses, drowning me in them. But one thought remained in my mind: I loved her, I want to see her again not through TV, not through posters and concerts, nor searching about her in the internet; I want to see the real her, I want to hold her in my arms, I want to kiss her senselessly.
I want to see her again. But I know it's impossible. I love her still, even though I'm not allowed to. I want to touch her, but I can't. I want to kiss her but I can only do so in the screen of my computer or television. I want to tell her I love her still, but I know she can't hear me even if I shout it until I'm blue. I want to hear her voice once more, but I can only hear it through the songs she sang.
The distance between me and her are so far apart. I want to close the distance but it's not possible, because it's not allowed. But if God allowed us to meet again, will she remember me? Does she still feel the same? I would give everything to see her once again; if we can't be together in this lifetime, I fervently wish to God that we could be in our next one.