Title: It's nothing more
Author:
Mika Kashii Haine
Band:
The Gazette
Character:
Ruki
Rating:
PG13
Genre:
Angst, humour
Chapters: One shot / drabble
Warning:
Un beta-ed
Disclaimer:
I don't own anyone.
Summary:
Violently thrashing his head right, left, right, left, right and so on.
Comments:
Don't ask what this is. I don't know what this is (laughs). I guess it's just a drabble of my imagination. I've been in a slump after all. This was fun to write (chuckles). And I know it's not particularly good. But it's not supposed to be either. Cause. Well. It is what it is. Something break my writer's block.

Outside of a white concrete building. Filled with many different apartment complexes. Where people unfamiliar with each other lived.

Outside of this building sat a man. Crouching on the dirty asphalt. With his low voice. Held serious. And a poker face. Desperately trying to make a conversation with this thing in front of him.

Getting more and more frustrated as it would not answer any of his questions. Big or small. Not a nod. Or a single glance giving something away. It just stood there. Hovering above his small figure.

Violently thrashing his head right, left, right, left, right and so on. Despair taking a steel grip on him. Why would it not answer? Please, just something. Anything.

"You don't like me, do you? Just like everyone else!" Eyes big and wide started to fill with tears. Hopelessly he tried. Spitting words with no meaning. Making no sense for anyone to understand.

Maybe it was the fact that he had been drinking not a few, but too many drinks. All alone in that bar. That bar he can't remember were was located. Nor the name. If he ever knew it, that is. The clock must be somewhere between 11PM and 5AM. Why? Cause he left around that time and it's still quite dark outside. Coldness of night has etched its existence in the air. Making his lungs burn for each breath he took.

"Can't you just say anything?" Voice low and weary. Weak, if you want.

But this something can not answer his questions or prayers no matter what it is. Or how many times he may repeat them. It won't leave. Just stand in front of him until he either moves it or leaves himself.

Can't he understand, even in his very drunken state, that's it's only a trashcan?!