Response to a "Boiz and Gurlz" one-shot request from VickyV under the prompt "Shell". Very angsty and a bit cliché, even for me. But I hope it'll be all right to read none the less.
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Shells.
The beauty of shells.
The vividly different patterns on each beautiful shell.
The swirl of those vivid colours as the beautiful shells spiralled around you.
The pain you feel when those many shells scrape against you, scratching your skin.
The realisation that you are no longer on the beach looking at pretty shells, but are drowning in the ocean, forced further to the depths by those hurtful shells.
Anzu lay curled up on the beach, refusing to let herself sob for any reason so pathetic. She clutched at the sand beneath her as the not-so-comforting thought ran through her mind that the grains of sand were once part of the rocks and the shells. Over thousands of years they had knocked together in the drowning ocean and the sand was the cast-off grain that had not been tough enough to last in the torrent.
Having said that it was quite suitable that she was here with the sand, she felt. For the sand's current function in her mind was to represent the failed lives of human beings: those who had not been strong enough to last in the real world, as she had not been.
She noted that there was a lot more sand than there were shells. But this was to be expected. In life there were so many failed hopes and dreams that lay on the ground to hold up the successful few.
And that was what the shells represented: those who had succeeded in life. Those strong characters that pushed forward and didn't care who got hurt as long as they stayed on top.
Anzu knew too many shells. In some ways it was an honour to know such strong personalities and that they'd allowed her to be alongside them for so long. It certainly didn't mean they were bad people at heart. And she had tried so hard to be strong like them, to strive like them, to achieve her dreams like they had but in the end she just wasn't good enough to be with them.
So now she was back in her mental whirlpool. Watching the shells fly all around her. Nothing could rid the sand of shells.
"Anzu?"
Her eyes snapped open sharply.
Had she even been awake through any of that?
She pulled herself up to a sitting position, trying to shake off the disorientation. She focused her vision on the person in front of her and was greeted by the worried face of Shizuka.
This in itself was not too uncommon. Shizuka was the kind of person who worried about you. Many of her friends had been faced with those shining, worried eyes when they were surrounded by troubles. But that's what she liked about Shizuka: the care was genuine. When she worried it came straight from the heart. And the amount of time she spent worrying showed exactly how large that heart was.
"Are you all right?" Shizuka asked.
Anzu nodded. You really felt bad about lying to that face, but there were some things you just couldn't tell her. She was so innocent that you didn't want to hurt her with your problems. She was so fragile. Like… a shell.
Not like those shells that ruled the sand, but a singular shell. One that could easily break, even as you held it in your hand. A shell like that needed protection. It was a rare treasure that you would want to take home with you and put on a high shelf, where it could be admired and kept safe from harm.
She knew she had an important friend in Shizuka. Shizuka was her treasured shell, unlike any of the other shells. Anzu saw herself subconsciously lean forward and hug Shizuka, pulling the other girl close to her. She could sense in the air that Shizuka did not understand what was going on but neither did she pull back. So Anzu held her close. Keeping the gentle beauty of the single shell away from the whirlpool.