Letters: Part I


I'm sorry to bother you with this as I know we rarely talk, however I've hit a bit of a rut and you were the first person I thought of. Though we haven't spoken in years I find myself needing to get this off my chest. I mean not for it to seem like I am misusing our friendship – I suppose in a way I am – but I'm desperate.

Sitting here I am troubled by ghosts of my past. My chest aches; my head numb. The Carnival – a pivotal point in both our lives – a time when both our masks cracked, our ploys exposed. Yes, those memories still haunt me, just as I know they haunt you. I suppose our graduating fell at an opportune time. Able to move away – to escape – you left this world of dark, grim memories behind. For that I envy you. Able to separate yourself from this painful existence; able to start anew. Here I still sit, clinging to the edge of life, body becoming heavy like lead, the water rushing in around me. My moment to flee has long since past.

Though never formal with our feelings, you knew. Words were never spoken, yet you heard. Perhaps it is just how people like you and I live. Calm, composed, yet on the inside a mix of inner turmoil. We don't communicate our emotions, nor do we show them. Perhaps the only thing giving way to our true intent rests behind our impenetrable gaze. It would be foolish to lie, to say I wasn't thinking of her. Just as I am sure it would be foolish to say you weren't thinking of Mai-san. During that brief time at Fuuka, we both found someone to love. To cherish. Yet, no matter how hard we tried, to hide our feelings, we both failed. For some reason they were able to reach past our masks, exposing our true selves, stripping us bare. We fell. Fell in love with the people we could never have. And now three yeas later we still bear those scars. Or at least I do.

Which brings me to the cause of my current state; her. To society it is impure, immoral and in every way wrong. But still I love her. After the Carnival I thought she would surely reject me. I was impure; still am. However, as always she was too kind to me, ensuring everything was alright. She forgave me. And like that, I never brought it up again. My mask was reformed, and we went on. I know you heard news that we moved in together from Mai-san, but let me assure you, nothing has changed. For that I am pleased, yet heartbroken. I would rather suffer the slings of arrows then see that look of fear again within her emerald orbs.

Taking night courses at the local university and working at the shop down the street during the day, she is doing well. As temperamental and cute as ever, I find it a daily challenge to keep my emotions in check. I lost her trust once – it will not happen again. Though tonight as she is out with the other ex-hime, I let myself fall. Mask plummeting down to the cold surface. Only with her miles away, the door bolted shut, and myself locked up in my room; only then do I allow the tears to fall. I love her with every fiber in my body, no matter how much it hurts. To see the men stare at her in the way they do. To watch her smile when talking with Mai-san or Mikoto-chan. Before I was the only one allowed in, yet now…

Ara you must excuse me. She just called and will be coming home shortly. Seems Midori managed to get them removed from the Karaoke hall, yet again. I will have to finish this another time. I cannot let her come home to see my disheveled state. The out of place hair, puffy red eyes and swollen hand. I must be perfect for her, re-adorn my mask and smile for her. Whatever I do, I must not let her worry.

Until the next time we speak.

Shizuru

Scrolling back up to the top of the page the honey haired woman clicked on the name bar, padding away softly at the keys of her laptop: Reito Kanzaki. Having re-read it several times, the woman deemed it fit, a soft sigh escaping her pale lips. Was it truly alright to do this? To allow another to witness her in a state of weakness?

"Iie…" Shaking her head, Shizuru bit the base of her lip. It was now or never.

Click.

Message sent.

Closing her laptop and sliding it under her bed, the graceful woman rose to her feet. No time to ponder, Natsuki was coming home and everything must be perfect.

Author Note: I know this isn't a fluff piece, and the next few following probably won't be either, however, it was all I could wrote. The words echo the feelings of the heart.