AN: Went through a bit of heartbreak :c and this is what popped out of my ribcage. Apologises to those I PMed and said TMB Chapter 7 will be ready by the weekend, it's not, cos a happy chapter and sad emotions mix as well as oil and water :c Hella lot of schoolwork too, so it'll probably be out sometime next week :c I'm sorry. Here's a depressing one-shot to distract you in the meantime c:

Note: For extra feels, go to grooveshark (DOTCOM) and type in Byousoku 5 Centimeter Original Soundtrack. Listen to the whole album C: Enjoy the music, start to finish, while reading. I highly recommend the movie too, even though it's flipping depressing ;-;

Happy reading!

Heart Wounds

When she was in the art gallery as a young girl, she didn't quite fully grasp a good majority of the paintings and sculptures. The ones she did, though, touched her in ways she didn't understand. Some like the Embodiment of Spirit made her feel quite sad, some like Worry frightened her and the scenery paintings awed her. The others... didn't make quite a lot of sense. Regardless, each impacted her on some emotional level and helped her to grow. Some hit home harder than others.

One that particularly stuck with her was Heart Wounds.

"You're... engaged..."

"Yeap! Just imagine it, Ib! Isn't it beautiful? In a few months time, when the flowers are blooming and birds are singing on a gorgeous day, I'll be a married man."

She didn't quite know why. The thought of knives attacking your heart would sound painful to anyone, surely. She didn't understand why Guertena would make such a strange sculpture. What does it mean? How did he feel such a thing, why would anyone want to hurt themselves like that?

She grew from a child, to a learning adolescent girl, to a pretty teenager to a beautifully blossoming young lady of nineteen. She grew from shy to confident, from ignorant to knowledgeable, from disbelieving to hopeful.

As time passed by, she realised.

"Wow, congrats Garry!" She crinkled the muscle around her eyes just slightly to make it more genuine, hoping her heartbreak doesn't come spilling out. She takes a sip of her hot lemon tea as a buffer and waits until the silence is a little more pronounced, when she is expected to respond properly, instead of just a three word sentence. Her throat felt clamped, her eyes a little too dry. "How long has it been since you two were together?"

"About...a year now I think."

"I'm really happy for you Garry, although you haven't told me much about her, just bits and pieces."

"Sorry, it's just; we've both been really busy, huh?"

"I know." The silence between them felt strained and awkward, something that very rarely happened with their meetings. She longed to hear his voice more than ever, cheerful and teasing, before he was completely out of her reach. "What's she like?"

She loved this man. She loved his oddly coloured hair, his strange sense of humour and weird quirks. He was fond of bracelets, be it handmade friendship bracelets or gorgeous vintage stuff. He had a pair of large nerd reading glasses that made his dazzling eyes huge. He always favours his right side over his left, be it his shoelaces or putting on his jacket. Oddly enough, he was left-handed. He had a love for latte art, a passion for painting and a compulsion for self-expression.

He had the most adorable set of dimples she'd seen. His smile was always serene. Garry was kind and gentle, never demanding or dominating like the boys in her school. He had the maturity of an adult, but the heart of a child when all she wanted was to do was play and a good laugh. He was her best friend, her anchor and the person she fell so hard for over the past decade.

Sometimes, she swore she could see affection in his eyes and maybe, just maybe, a deep love for her too. Sometimes, she felt she was mistaken.

"I'm pretty sure you'd love her if you met her, Ib. She makes amazing macaroons."

"Really? That's nice."

"Yeah! She's really talented around the kitchen, and she's unbelievably sweet. She's a bit shy and quiet, but her voice... her singing! She's just... wow. You two have to meet up before the wedding. I want her to meet my best friend, after all."

It was a miracle they found each other again, only a few weeks after the gallery. It was an even bigger miracle they were actually neighbours, exactly on the gap between the working class and upper class condominiums in the area. He had opened his balcony door one day to see a girl wearing large headphones reading a book on the balcony directly opposite him on the other building.

She looked far too familiar to be false. Trying to attract her attention from across a fifteen metre gap was difficult. Just as he was about to give up, she closed her book and stood up. Looking across the gap, she saw a man with purple hair waving frantically at her, holding a lacy white handkerchief in his left hand. She leaned forward on the railing, scarcely believing her eyes.

He received no response.

"Ib?" She snapped back to reality with the call of her name. "You were dreaming off. Am I that boring?"

Noticing the subtle teasing as usual, she smiled her fake genuine smile and shook her head, once again hiding herself, as always.

"No, no, what are you talking about? I'm listening, carry on."

Garry fiddled with the sleeve of his surprisingly plain green long-sleeved t-shirt and really looked at her, tilting his head towards her slightly. He rested one arm on the table between them and leaned forward. "Are you alright, Ib? You don't look very well. I mean, you look lovely as always, but you seem a bit-"

"I'm, ah, I'm actually not feeling very well today. Might be the flu," She dropped a few notes on their table and stood, grabbing her small black bag.

"But you still haven't finished your tea."

"I'll talk to you on another day." Staring at her retreating form, he wondered why she left so abruptly.

"Are these... homemade macaroons?" Staring at the nodding, blushing girl, he smiled at her and patted her head gently. This was an interesting Valentine's Day. Opening the box, he took a bite of the chocolate macaroon first. His facial expressions completely froze for a second, before he slowly resumed chewing. Grinning at her, he patted her head fondly, appreciating her effort for him, no matter how badly the results turned out. "They're really good. Practice a bit more and I'm sure they'll be even better!"

She lay on her side, the bed canopy completely shielding her from the world. Hugging a pillow closely, her face screwed itself tightly and let herself crumbled. Her shaking shoulders lasted for only a minute before it subsided and she sat up. Looking down at the endlessly cascading teardrops on her pillow, she sniffed and the trembling continued.

Ib snuggled underneath her bed sheets and her train of thoughts almost completely drifted off. She turned towards the bed canopy and closed her eyes, wondering when her chest would stop hurting so badly.

He was getting married.

What. The. Hell?

She always knew somewhere inside this day would come, she just never thought of anyone else but her as the bride. 'Did you really think he would wait for you? He probably found someone a thousand times better than you. Prettier, smarter, funnier, better', the thoughts swirled around in her mind, making her feel ill and miserable. Ib gave frustrated sigh and wondered when she became so selfish.

"Garry?" She slapped him once more, frustrated by his lack of response to her presence. His head stayed in place, staring off into the distance before his eyes widened and finally saw her. Blinking several times, he looked between Ib and Mary, before observing his surroundings. He stood up.

"I-Ib? Are you alrigh-?" She didn't even let his finish his sentence. She latched onto his waist and held on tight, burying her face in his tank top, trembling slightly. He sighed and bended down on his knees, wrapping his arms around her properly. The smell of his hair filled her senses and she forgot all about her worries. She snuggled further into him, uncaring of the world. He was safe, he was here, he was with her. That's all that mattered.

"I'm Isabelle; it's so lovely to meet you." Ib quickly stiffened at the hug, but relaxed as the older woman released her. She had an angelic smile, long, silky brown hair and a nice, normal shade of brown eyes.

"I'm Ib, nice to meet you too."

"Garry's told me so much about you. You're really gorgeous in real life! Garry's showed me pictures, but please! Really, the camera does you no justice at all." Her comfortable and energetic tone started pissing Ib off immediately, regretting the decision to come to this arrangement.

"You're not as shy and quiet as Garry told me you were."

Isabelle laughed and shook her head, grinning widely. "Garry talks non-stop about his 'adorable little sister'" she quoted the phrase with her fingers, adding emphasis to her voice, "It's like I already practically know you."

"I... see." The statement was a serrated knife to the chest. Ib looked off at a playing child on the swings with what she presumed to be an older brother pushing her. Was that how Garry saw their friendship? She looked back at Isabelle and forced a smile.

"Garry is such a boob isn't he? He arranged this meeting and bailed out at the last moment."

"He couldn't really help it." Ib frowned, instinctively becoming protective over him.

"I know." Her small grin made Ib confused; disliking the fact this woman had the audacity to tease her during their first meeting. "Honestly, he's way too diligent. He's really hardworking and dedicated to his work and clients. He was looking forward to this meeting after all."

"Yeah."

"That's why I love him," she whispered dreamily. The crunchy leaves rustled loudly nearby, making conversation almost inaudible. Turning to Ib, she smiled at her too. "That's why you love him too, don't you?"

The wind blew her cropped hair right into her face when she turned to look at the woman. Resting one hand on the park bench and another tucking her short hair back, she leaned in closer. "Did you say something?"

"Ah, no? Tell me more about you, how's life?"

Ib started hesitantly, unsure of the woman. As Isabelle gave her more and more prompts, they soon fell into a rhythm, and they almost seemed like old friends to an unsuspecting stranger. She had a charm that was difficult to resist, impossible to ignore. She was sincere, she was honest and she was almost perfect to the point of madness.

Ib realised Isabelle was systematic, composed, talented, musical, intelligent, funny, stunning and everything else a classy woman wanted to be. She was everything she wasn't, lonely, struggling with college, far too serious, creepy looking and far too shy for her own good. If she wasn't Garry's future wife, they could have been good friends in another life. Instead, here they were, chatting merrily about the ridiculous amount of different shades of white, knowing that the wedding in spring would come very soon.

Try as she might, Ib couldn't find the strength to hate her. There was very little to dislike unless she wanted to be petty or stooped pretty low, putting words in her mouth or hating her ideal disposition. Ib had to agree that she complimented Garry beautifully. She just might order into his chaotic life and he would be her whirlwind of adventure and romance. She would definitely, definitely make him happy, happier than if he were with her. How could she hate a woman that would do that for him?

She stepped out onto the balcony and flashed her torchlight into his sliding door. She had great news to tell him. He would be so proud of her and impressed by the medal and her work. The curtains were dark, hinting that no one was home. She knew that he liked the dark though (the weirdo) because it helped him to think on hectic nights where everything in his mind was a little muddled. After several minutes, the sliding door still remained firmly shut. She frowned, wondering if he really wasn't home.

The curtains were suddenly pulled back and Ib jumped up from her iron seat, ready to greet him. Her face turned red. He was shirtless, a glum look set on his face. He seemed a bit flushed. He picked up the small whiteboard sitting patiently on the metal table and scribbled a quick message. He held the board up and she shone the light near it, reading "You couldn't have just texted me?" in his large, messy, cursive penmanship.

She gave a cheeky grin, before grabbing her own whiteboard and scribbling her own message. "Not as fun! 3 Or as romantic ;)" She saw him shake his head, although she couldn't see whether it was out of amusement or annoyance. Working quickly, she sent across another message. "Busy? :c"

"YES." Ib's smile dropped at the block letters and she huffed. Another message next read, "Sorry. Stuff to do." He dropped the small whiteboard and left, shutting the curtains once again. Her lower lip shook for a second before she bit it, refusing to get emotional over something like him having a bad day. She turned, having enough of him, before she heard a strange sound. Turning back to Garry's apartment, she frowned. She thought she heard a woman laughing suddenly.

"Hello ladies."

"Gar!" Isabelle jumped up from the bench and ran crashing into him. He caught her in a bear hug and swung her about, laughing at her enthusiasm. She laughed and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Looking at them, happy and so in love with each other, Ib felt almost physically ill. Turning to Garry, she gave him a big smile too, but stayed firmly in her place.

"Sorry I got caught up, but hey, I have another art deal!" Isabelle hugged his even tighter and congratulated him. Garry looked strangely at Ib, wondering why she was so withdrawn and distant. "Everything went all, I hope?"

"Ib and I got off to a great start, she's so wonderful, just like you said. Quiet, but really sweet, and thoughtful! Ib here—Ib? Ib, what's wrong?" The couple looked at their friend hunched over, trying to cover her face with what was left of her hair. Her fringe did a spectacular job, but the rest of it was too short. Her arms were crossed and rested against her stomach. Turning her back against them, she wobbled a little forward before walking properly, albeit clumsily.

"I don't feel well. I'm going home." She ran off before either one of them decided to give chase.

She sat looking at his sleeping face, slightly dazed at what she's done.

Blue and purple paint streaked across her hands and forehead, but she paid them no heed. His soft face and hunched thin figure was covered in blue roses, his symbol, with thorns almost guarding him. She awoke after a nightmare, where Mary had found her rose before she had, and Garry exchanged it for his. The little girl, unforgiving and cruel, plucked off all of his petals and made him... sleep. She couldn't erase the image of his 'sleeping' figure in her mind, so she transferred it onto canvas.

Having been stuck with very little muse to work on lately, Ib was miserable without company, having finished all of her work and assignments. Thinking entering a competition over the holidays would help, she was disappointed. It did no such thing. The nightmare she relived was the one who awakened her painting spirit once more, causing her to skip her meals, getting very little sleep to finish the piece.

It was done. He's finished. All that's left is for him to finally dry and enter him in the competition. "I wonder what I should name you." Ib thought hard, for hours on end, before she made the decision. After a blissful decade of blissful ignorance, she finally remembered the nightmare that once plagued her, the dangers they overcame. She had forgotten, but no more. He was going to be her last Forgotten Portrait of that world.

Wondering if she should respond to the flashes of light coming in through her curtains, Ib finally got up from her couch and opened the sliding door. She tightened her wrapped dressing gown and walked out to the message of "Are you okay? :c" from her friendly neighbour, of course. She almost felt like crying right in front of him. She couldn't stand to even look at his face for the time being.

"No. Just a bit ill, is all." She replied on her board and walked back inside. Her phone vibrated on the coffee table and she flipped it open, almost touched by his concern for her. It evaporated as soon as soon as she realised what she was to him. Her chest felt numb, completely worn out and exhausted from the hours of quiet sobbing. She looked horrendous in the mirror. Ib rubbed her sore eyes and lay back down on the coach, simply staring at the ceiling.

'Ib, if you're sick, you should go to the doctors, not walk about and tire yourself out. Want me to drive you there? You've looked really drained the past few weeks. Everything okay? :c'

"No Garry, not really."

What was she doing? Was she moving on? Was she giving up? She didn't know what to do, or feel very much nowadays. She always knew her crush was unrequited, what was so different about this current development?

She didn't have any right to lay any sort of claim on him, now or ever. He was a free-spirited person who chose his attachments and stuck with them. She thought fate was with her all these years, with him so close by, always supporting her, encouraging her. They were great friends, so why couldn't they be more? She's just been blinding herself from the truth.

She turned over; staring at the cushion designs her mum always loved. Ib closed her eyes and thought of her parents, crying once more at the thought of being alone. After their car accident two years ago, she had been independent, living on her own with only school, Garry and hobbies for company.

He was especially supportive during that time, visiting her to make sure she was always alright. He was her anchor, no matter how busy he was or how mean she was to him. Both her parents were their parent's only child. Their parents had passed on too. She had no family left, only the family fortune for her needs. He knew she needed somebody to take care of her, so he did it without question, without any doubts, without any complaints. He was her best friend, her closest friend. While she loved him unconditionally, romantically, he loved her unconditionally, platonically.

In the end... it all doesn't really matter.

No matter how he saw her, she would always want to protect his happiness, even if it was at the cost of her own. If Isabelle was the best person for him, so be it. It was the least she could do for him after all these years, after everything he's done for her.

"Ib?"

"Oh, hey."

She regretted her clothing choice almost instantly when she opened the front door. They stared at each other awkwardly. Ib shifted her weight from one foot to another, Garry swung the paper bag from side to side very slightly. He walked past her into the apartment, heading for the kitchen. Ib sighed and put the chain on the door once more.

"I got us some food."

He took dinner out and set it down gently on the table. He raided her fridge to look for vegetables and found only cucumbers. She followed him inside, feeling a little light-headed from the lack of length of hair. She absentmindedly reached to curl a strand of hair before she realised she was grasping air. Garry noticed.

"Interesting... hairstyle choice."

"Mum liked it shoulder length. I took it a bit too far, I think. It looks weird now." Garry looked around for the kitchen tool of his choice, but realised it was missing. He looked back at her. Her eyes were downcast. He immediately glanced down at her wrist, relieved to find it pure and unmarred. Going further down to her short shorts, almost hidden by her oversized sweater, he sighed, thankful for the untouched skin there too.

It's been three months now. He's missed them too.

"Did you just grab your hair and chop it off with the knife?" Ib didn't reply, but her fidgety hands and averted gaze said enough. "Well, at least you didn't do anything else with it, I hope. After dinner, I can fix it for you. You look... cute like this. We'll just neaten it up a little, adjust it a bit, and you'll look super adorable."

"I will?" He gave her a quick hug and patted her head, smiling brightly at her.

"Of course you will, Ib! I'll style your hair anytime you want, any way you want it. You'll look great in anything." Her heart skipped a beat and she silently vowed to herself to keep it this short, just to let Garry cut it again and again.

"I... will?"

"Of course you will, you're the cutest girl in the world after all."

She looks breath-taking, flowers in her long silky hair, white gown trailing after her down the aisle.

Of course she did.

It was her wedding day.

The flowers were blooming, the birds were singing, it was a gorgeous day for a special occasion. Garry looked equally as handsome, nervous but happy, preparing for a new life. When they met, he gave her one of his gentlest smiles, reassuring them both. She beamed back, equally excited for their years together in the future.

He was all hers. His smile, his laugh, his adorable quirks, his wonderful personality, his comforting, supportive arms, his warm, large hands to hold on cold nights, the strength and wisdom to take them both far away in the distance. She was one helluva lucky girl.

She was all his. Her long, silky brown locks, her angelic smile, her beautiful dimples. Her class, her charm, her kindness would forever be preserved. Her beauty was for his eyes, her soft touch and affectionate hugs for his children. She was his angel brought down to Earth, he was an incredibly lucky man.

When they kissed, eyes closed and holding each other tight, where height couldn't be judged and a reckless decision wasn't made, sitting at the back, Ib could almost imagine it was her marriage, her ceremony, her special day with Garry. Breathing deeply and clapping along with the cheering audience, her face was just blank enough to resemble boredom, or apathy. Feeling like her presence ruined the atmosphere, Ib grabbed her small bag and made her way discreetly out of the rom.

Stepping outside, she looked up at the clouds and felt the cool spring breeze caressing her. Despite the warmth of the sunlight, her face felt cold. She stood, hearing the loud celebration and congratulation coming from the ceremony. Ib looked back at the now open double doors. Although they were being bombarded by people, they looked as happy as ever. Garry turned his head and spotted her. His face froze. Time stopped for them.

As time passed by, she realised.

Sometimes, the pain far surpassed that of knives lacerating your chest. Sometimes, you need an escape, a physical quantity to shape in your hands to forget about the metaphysical, the emotional. It meant that you need to grow, to change, to adapt and be happy. Sometimes in your life, you meet people; love and fall in love, fall out of love, or people simply can't return those same feelings of attachment and love to you, unrequited love they say.

Sometimes they need closure. They make sure to remember how the pain felt, to prove to them how unhealthy it was, or how destructive the relationship had gotten. For her, she needed to see him be happy, see him truly alive in her arms. She needed to make sure she was giving him to the right person, someone who could appreciate and treasure him. Even if it felt like a thousand knives piercing her heart at once, she needed to do it. The heart wounds were all for him, and that was alright.

Even with tears streaking her face, red colouring her cheeks, lips trembling from conflicting emotions and arms aching to reach him, the final smile Ib gave him was enchanting, genuine with happiness and love. Smiling even harder at the dazed look on his face, Ib turned around and walked into the middle of thankfully empty streets.

She stopped and looked dreamily to her left, almost turning back, before she decisively walked on, away from him. She was moving on, letting go, and carrying the burden of the lesson on her small shoulders.

She walked out of his life, his world, and never saw him again.

AN: Sometimes all you need is a depressing story out of your system, so you can carry on with happier chapters of another story c: Again, apologises. Sometime next week, yeah? Review if you liked it, or disliked it, and tell me your thoughts. Take care!