Hello people! I'm finally back, and with a chaptered story this time! This idea has been in my mind for quite some time now, and I decided to give it a shot after combining a few plots and types of stories I wanted to try out writing!=p
Anyway, read, and if you liked and want me to continue, REVIEW and tell me so!
And now, enjoy=]
Disclaimer: I don't Own CCS, the song 'easier to run' by Linking Park or the song 'dear angel' by April Sixth!
Genres: Romance, Friendship, Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Your Rhythm
~I wanna live to my own rhythm~
Chapter One- Easier To Run
The day Sakura Kinomoto's life first met change, she was desperate to get to Tomoeda High's dance studio and lose herself to the addiction of violently, angrily dancing to some very upbeat and dark, loud music.
Her breathing was shallow and bordering on sobbing, her body shaking with emotional turmoil barely contained.
It was the only lucky thing in her situation that she was one of the few students who got special permission and access to the school's studio at any time- even Sunday evening, when no one was supposed to be there. She will have privacy.
Fumbling with the keys she always kept with her- her house key, the studio's key and one small silver key- she leaned her forehead against the glass door to calm down a bit- and was surprised when the door opened.
Was someone else in there? Who would come here at this time on a no-school day beside her?
She got in quietly and closed the door behind her softly.
That was when she heard the faint, angry music
Fascinated and curious, the storm within quieting for the moment, she followed the sound of the electric guitar and young, clear male voice till she could make out the words.
Cause without you
My life's gone down
What do I do, when I find myself…
Wanting to die?
I bleed for the second time tonight
Holding the love that's in my mind
If only my love could be with you
If only this pain, this pain died too…
She mostly danced to hip-hop music or trances or mixes her friend Rika made for her when she wanted to dance herself to exhaustion, but the rock music combined with the singer's voice lured her into the very state of mind which made her such an exceptional dancer.
Her teachers called it a gift.
She called it her own brand of drugs.
And so, she danced.
So break you away,
Away, away from me
So break you away,
Away, away from me
And I don't know…
The unknown singer's voice faded, and with it Sakura's frenzy, leaving her feeling almost peaceful and much more in control of herself.
I should have just ignored them, like always…
But she couldn't. Not this time. Being home became so much more hard and painful in the past few months- so much so that her running away and spending as much time as possible out had become something to be expected, worrying something her parents don't even think about anymore.
"Hey! What are you doing here?" she jumped and turned toward the half-open door leading to the recording room she left open so the music would be loud enough for her to drown in it.
She didn't recognize the young boy standing expressionless in front of her, one arm holding his guitar; the other clenched into a fist by his side- the only indication of anger about him beside his blazing, intense amber gaze.
He was about her height, maybe slightly taller than her own 5'5. His dark, chocolate-brown hair looked wind-ruffled and fell into his eyes, shadowing his face and making him look younger than a high school student.
"What you're doing here- I came to practice." She answered casually, wiping some sweat from her brow with her sweatband. "Are you a new student or something? I thought I could recognize pretty much anyone from the Art Program, but I don't recognize you." she narrowed her eyes at him, matching his now scowling face.
"I've got access to the studio. That's all you need to know." He said gruffly and turned back to the recording room to put down the guitar.
"Whatever." Sakura shrugged. It wasn't her business, and if he wasn't allowed there and got caught- well, too bad for him.
She decided to wait until he got back out before resuming dancing and in the meantime plugged her IPod in to the playback system and picked the first song. She might be calmer, but nowhere close to done.
However, when the boy came back out, instead of leaving, he leaned back against the wall opposite the mirror-wall and watched her.
"What?" she asked, impatiently.
"What, what? Is there a problem?" he asked nonchalantly.
She blinked. She was dressed for dancing and maybe he even caught her in her last few moves after he finished his song, so obviously he knew what she was there for, and her behavior left no place for mistake about her attitude toward an audience.
"Do you intend to just stand there and watch me?"
He tilted his head slightly. "Weren't you 'just standing and listening' to me a few minutes ago?"
"I was not! I mean- I did, but I was dancing! And it's not the same!" oh, whatever, it wasn't like she was shy or embarrassed, and she was sure of her abilities and now also in more control. "Suit yourself." She muttered, giving him one last glare before turning on the music and its volume.
A few minutes into her dance, she forgot the other occupant of the studio and lost herself to her body's movement and the rhythm of both the music and her own heartbeat. She always marveled at the things her body allowed her to do- bent, jump, pirouette and whatnot. It never failed to fill her with wonder and awe.
Arts of all kinds were a thing of both mystery and beauty in her eyes; something to be held by and to appreciate.
That's why, when she heard claps, she was snapped out of her trance and looked almost startled at the boy watching her and clasping.
"You are not bad," he said in an off manner. But she could see the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and as always was filled with the warmth of being praised by someone whose own talent she acknowledged.
"So are you," she smiled, feeling the high of the dance lifting her spirit. "I liked your song."
"Thanks. Though I kind of guessed it already from your reaction," He answered, referring to her losing herself in his music.
"You could have just say thanks without sounding like an overbearing jerk." Sakura smiled too sweetly.
To her surprise, though, he laughed at that. The transformation to his face was breathtaking. Sure, she noticed he looked not bad- okay, better than just 'not bad'- but with his expression so open and his boyish grin, he was a sight to behold.
If only I had a camera… dancing was her passion, but she also had a knack for catching beautiful sceneries and moments in pictures. Actually, it was her secondary course in the school's Art Program.
"I guess we are even now, then," his voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
"Huh?"
"You know- my music for your performance." He was still grinning.
"Oh. Well. You know, having people watching you do something you love and liking it- you should feel it is enough of a reward." She said in a teacher-like scolding voice.
His expression closed instantly, leaving her blinking and confused. Did she say something wrong?
"Sure. Whatever. Listen, if you're staying here, remember to lock after you. I'm going." He walked to the studio's glass door. Then he hesitated for a moment and turned back. "Don't- don't tell anyone- I mean- damn," he ran a hand through his already messy hair, looking young and a little lost. And strangely endearing. "Never mind. Sorry for imposing and all." He closed the door behind him.
"What the hell?" Sakura looked at the closed door. What a weird person. Oh, well. Next time she sees him-
"Wait! What's your name?" she ran up to the door, but when she looked out, there was no one there. He was gone.
"Right." She mumbled, shaking her head to clear it. "That was interesting." And it completely distracted her from her own problems. Still a bit unsure as to what has just taken place, she restarted the music.
S&S
"Do you know what time it is?" Sakura's father asked, his face stern but controlled.
Her happiness instantly dissolving, the 16-year-old looked down. Just let it pass over you. Don't listen. Don't take anything in. Unfortunately, her mantra seemed to be holding less and less, her protective wall of passivity scrambling away a bit more with each scold or fight between her parents or being ignored whether she was home or not.
"Is that your way of trying to get our attention? You are a big girl, Sakura. You shouldn't act like a spoiled kid." Why couldn't he yell at her? Tell her they were worried? Why say such things with this calm tone?
She wanted to scream, to cry out how unfair everything was, but as always, she kept it all in and tried to let the storm pass.
Fujitaka Kinomoto looked at his silent daughter with distaste. He gave up his desires and freedom for her, because of her, and she had to act like a child throwing a tantrum with her disappearing whenever she wanted to god-knows-where.
"I hope you are sorry. It won't happen again, are we clear?" she nodded. He sighed. "Listen, Sakura, I don't mind if you want to go out of the house to do whatever you young people do, but you have to be home earlier, or tell us you will be late. You mother made dinner more than an hour ago, and you didn't study to your test."
"Sorry." Sakura tried to keep her voice colorless, to keep her anger at bay. Apparently, not enough, though, because that was when her mother came into the living room, looking tired and angry.
"Don't use that tone with your father." Nadeshiko Kinomoto came to stand in front of her daughter.
Sakura bit her lips. Sure, they fought all the time, screaming and shouting at each other with no consideration of their own daughter being present, but she couldn't be angry?
Frustration and fury and pain just as fierce as those that scared her away from her house in search of some outlet hours before reawakened.
"Go eat then go up to your room." Her mother was quick to take her husband's side in any possible way whenever she could, and Sakura could almost hate her for it- if she only wasn't aware of the reason.
She hated her father, instead, and resented her coward, weakling of a mother.
And, really, she was no better- she never talked back, not really. Never let them know what she thought about them.
It was easier to run. Easier to fake ignorance and act indifferent.
They thought she wasn't aware of the source of their arguments, of the cause to their never-ceasing hostility towards one another- or, more like her father's hostility and her mother's angry fear.
And people thought love to be a beautiful, desired thing.
Look what love and its loss has done to her family.
And the worst of all? The knowledge that if not for her, her parents could have been happy.
Ssoo… liked? Didn't liked? Continue? Shows potential? I know it was way short and maybe not everything was clear, but all will be in the future- if there is one for this story==pp
So review and tell me if you want to read on. If enough people will ask me to, I will continue with the story. I am writing for myself, but updating for you!
Love ya all!
**Evermore**