AN/ Alternative Universe, SILLY STORY AHEAD, Right so, here's a new idea! Ta-da and it's also very cliché! Enjoy! It's silly and very unreal like I said, so don't mind me, it's also absurd?/ Ps, wrote in a couple of hours so meh, many typos, grammar mistakes, sorry beforehand and accept the nonsense :V! Because it's meant to be very fresh and fluffy :D
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Colors.
CHAPTER ONE
GREY
Youki's POV
I finally let myself become unresponsive, I stop pushing myself to my very limit, I simply but so honesty sigh; that much I owe to myself. I'm frustrated, I feel depressed.
I can't see any colors.
Literally so.
"Youki," I vaguely lift my gaze, there goes that girly voice I welcome, she simpers through stifled joy and when our gazes meet, she says something I can't hear. We are in class, Mayu's desk is on right row, right beside me.
"What?" my voice is apathetic but I'm not angry at her. Still, I'm not curious to what she has to say this time around, but I ask anyways.
"Issei" she repeats, I've been in a bad mood since the day started, "Look at Issei," She scrunches her nose up and points "He's looking at Takeo." She giggles.
I look over, mostly in compromise, I'm too overwrought by myself and I know I only want to stamp myself away, my lips seal and I feign an equally complicit smile, "He sure thinks he might be his one."
She slaps jokingly her own leg, "I know! I hate him!"
"Boy is he wrong." At least she distracts me.
She laughs and I return the beam, the teacher looks at us but keeps her lecture, Mayu leans discretely closer and she places her hand next to her mouth, all to hide our chit-chat, "I'm sure a guy can't be your one silly."
I nod and smile gently "That's what I said" I'm trying to feel amused, but my head is too cluttered.
"No, I mean," she points at Issei again "I'm saying," she bites her lips in hilarity, "What if it's true, what if he really, really wants Takeo?"
"Ew" I shake my head, I still pretend "he's screwed."
"Onoko, Hayashi, is there something you two need to share with the rest of us?"
She freezes and we both look upfront, our teacher is mildly annoyed, much to Mayu's surprise, I nod, "There is, actually, Mrs. Ishimoto."
I can't bare my own head. I need to get out.
"What are you doing?" Mayu whispers between gritted teeth.
I know the classroom's entire attention is on me, "Go on?" the teacher questions curiously, I'm usually a quiet student.
"I need to excuse myself," I gulp "can I go to the nursery?"
"What?" Mayu mutters quietly. I don't mean to ignore her.
"Oh? Are you sick?" Mrs. Ishimoto questions, concerned, Mayu sits properly in her seat.
"I might be," I breathe and I look apologetically up "I'm feeling dizzy."
Our teacher smiles and signalizes the class' exit, "Don't fret, I will annotate the absence" I get up, "I'll check on you later," she waves "get well."
I nod and I don't look at my best friend as I stomp out.
I close the classroom's door behind me and I start walking, I won't get in the nursery just yet, I just need to soak in all of the greyness and wringing dullness that I'm convinced is my entire world.
When I say colorless, I mean colorless.
Once we reach the age of 5, we are taught that the world we see, is not all the world has to offer, especially for our visual perception. Our teachers are obligated to let us know that there is more we haven't seen. We are told that everyone who is born lacks a filter that permits our eyes to see something that could fuel my will to live; colors.
Simply put; we can't see colors, we do see greys, everybody sees grey, every scale of grey, every single gradient of grey, black, white. It is what we are told to recognize, is what we can embrace, is our normalcy, is what we know until the unexpected is said to happen.
Obviously, everybody wants to see what's all the fuzz about, everyone wants to be part of something, part of the reunions, the loud gatherings, part of the conversation, part of the moment, part of the happiness, part of the everything.
People that claim to have seen the colors say it's… different. They say it's like start living again. It's actually like getting to know, you actually never lived until you see what a world with colors is, what it offers to you, what actually means to be alive in this world. This isn't at all that complicated.
Our parents, our eldest, our teachers, they all romanticize the idea of seeing that notion that is yet much abstract to me. We are told to prepare when we get to see colors, we dig in as much information as we can about them, we know we only see in black and white and create a whole expectative about what we are yet to live. Simply because colors, seemingly, will always be new.
How? Here's the thing, how do you get to see colors? Oh they tell you very simply: 'Touch your soulmate' and I always laugh, as if that was remotely easy.
Once you see colors, according to your language, it is taught to us not to worry about identifying colors by name, our parents and teachers assured us that you suddenly and simply 'know' which color is which, it is an information that you grasp within the seconds of seeing.
Nobody knows how it is remotely possible or why does everyone agrees that a certain color is named a certain way, and its full reasoning is something that I haven't fully understood yet. All I know is that this primary experience is only the first reason why it is rumored to be so magical.
When you first touch your soulmate, you will both see colors instantly, every single one of the colors, for the first time, will come to life for you. It's an unforgettable experience, you may cry, you may faint, you may run away, you may be shocked or you might not want to let go. I mean, we are told we are missing too much without it.
In this first stages, If you let go, after a couple of seconds, it turns back to grey. It's a scary thought though. Nobody that has seen colors has ever wished to go back to grey. This is when most couples try to get a real connection, in the end, it becomes real, the connection is said to feel 'flawlessly right'.
Only once the love consummates- yes, in a sexual way, both gain what they call 'utmost linking', after that you don't need to touch each other to see colors, it's an everlasting experience, a priceless seal of love.
Divorces, heartbreaks, cheats, abuse, you see everything down to a duller color, but never again in black and white. I have heard it's as depressing as seeing everything in black and white. If you can genuinely repair the bond, you can go back to seeing full color.
If you murder your soulmate you go back to black and white. It's rumored the scale of greys you see after that is even darker than before.
Family and the closest friend might cause you a two-second peep-in to a duller version of colors just once, like I said for only two-seconds, it just happens once in forever and it only happens with one close friend. Since I have no family, this experience that usually happened to my classmates at 6 years old didn't happen to me.
If your soulmate dies before getting to touch you, you see colors. Yes, permanently. No conditions. It is the ultimate gift of love, the last breath of your soulmate was committed to your happiness. I have heard these people find companionship with other left-behind members of this spectrum and as far as their testimony goes, they find somewhat happiness and a close-connection, but they say they lack the characteristic 'buzz'. I think that's very sad.
If your soulmate dies after the connection is done, the colors goes dull. It's very sad for those who had a disappeared beloved. It's very sad when it's unannounced and unexpected.
Sex feels warmer and more intimate, feeling-wise and or physical, I don't know… I have heard that from my classmates not my teachers.
Funny fact, I didn't know about the 'friends' peep-in' thing until a couple of weeks ago, so when I grabbed Mayu's wrist for the first time to ask about the ridiculous ring she was wearing, I thought the duller colors were 'The colors' and I freaked out, I felt too awkward to mention anything.
When I noticed that it never happened again, no matter how much times I fidgeted with her wrist-bands, I came to the conclusion that I was cursed, I thought that I did something that broke the 'spell' or something, I didn't like Mayu but I was concerned.
She didn't comment anything and now I think that she probably didn't see it. Yes, because this 'friend' thing doesn't have to be reciprocate, it actually means nothing, and it only reflect a genuine, friendly connection. I mean, she might even have felt it as a child before and forgot about it. Now I know. Because at that time, it all felt very out of place.
Soon after that, she called me in the middle of the night because she saw colors and it was with this guy our age from her neighborhood, his name is Shippo. I didn't understand how she could see colors with him when I definitely saw something when I grabbed her wrist. I was confused, but I wasn't jealous. Soon after she told me Shippo made her see colors. I realized it became permanent for her.
I didn't understand, so I made a short investigation and found several answers to many of my questions, especially regarding my best friend, when I found out what I experienced was normal and not the anticipated 'moment' I was still alien to, I couldn't help but feel alleviated and also happy for her and her newfound connection.
Mayu talked about colors an entire month.
I just hoped that I would soon start to see what everyone else was talking about, or simply let it be part of my normality, maybe then I would feel that I belonged somewhere, somehow.
Since then I've been caught up thinking and thinking, it is no wonder, seemingly, I am the only one in my class, who hasn't found his soulmate, it's fair to say I'm fucking depressed, I don't think I'm the type of guy who attracts girls and that thought is mostly enough to keep my head from paying attention in class.
I just don't think I'll ever make it happen and let's not take into account that I've grabbed many wrists, 'by accident' just to see if someone makes me live. Why the fuck do schools teach us so much about this shitty thing? Haven't they thought or informed themselves that 89% of last years' suicides rates were mainly conformed by young colorless people? Haven't they thought there are people like me that feel worthless without it? Maybe we think the pressure to find our said 'soulmate' is too much? That without it we feel lonely, distressed and ugly?
No they don't. Because this society celebrates that more than they celebrate any other holiday and it's even legal to be absent for two days in work and school. Yes, they find that justifiable, even an obligation. Propaganda is too much, advertisements and publicity around me implies that if I don't find it at a young age then I'm not doing things right and I'm just so sad, because I never feel I do anything right.
My therapist says I'm paying it too much attention and she reminds me that I'm sick and that I should care more about myself and she says that I should remember that things aren't as bad as my brain turns them out to be, she says that I should not be afraid of my thoughts as much as I am.
I do take meds to feel better and I remind myself that I'm not being dramatic, or a nuisance or straight up annoying because there's nothing I can do against it, I have to remind myself every day that it is not my fault. Because I had BPD even before stressing over 'colors'. Yes, I was diagnosed at a young age, long ago. Stress just makes it worst.
Because it makes my head multiply its' voices and they talk by themselves. When those disarranged thoughts hover, I feel I'm trapped in a room.
I should know how to take better care of myself by now and this whole ordeal had needlessly stressed me out. When I care for myself, I take photographs and eat cake, I joke around Mayu, I go with her to the mall, I eat, today I didn't do any of those things and doing so poorly for myself makes me strained as well.
I prompt myself that at least when I was in class and I felt overwhelmed with thoughts, I excused myself and went for this little walk, just as my therapist constantly suggests me to do.
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My thoughts break as I rapidly move to the side, a hurried guy splinters right beside me, he trips with the edged ceramic floor and falls, I see his books scatter and I rush to help him, he groans in mortification. I'm in Senior year, he is probably in Freshman, 3 years or so younger than me, at that age everything is embarrassing I think, he must be thankful I was the only one who saw him "Aw Jesus," I comment before placing my hand over his shoulder. I want to ask if he is fine but I'm speechless because his eyes are blue.
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AN/ Alternative Universe! This is meant to be a short multi-chapter fic, means there are more chapters to come, I hope as quick as I got this one, I get to finish the rest! ALSO Enjoy because this is my first multi/pairing fic. Romance and fluff and… drama? Rate T (for now :D)
Also ages per grades (yeah we'll be using American system in a Japanese school lol):
Senior: 17
Freshman: 14
I'll make it work! I've since been rooting for a Ranma x older Youki sooo I'll try this one, and don't worry things will –cough- grow up lol because I'm not into shota-con, just that Youki being slightly older will be their thing here. Next chapter is not about them tho~ I said this will be multi/pairing fic :D
I'm also working in a long-ass Ranma/Youki fic which is my main goal rn, I mean I wrote this because I needed to write something not to fall in a writer's block. LOVE is also on progress and like I said chapter 2 is on the way, I mean, I will progress with any of the fics because that's better than blocking over a specific one.
Till next time!
Batya000
