Vocaloids (c) respective creators; Italics - phrases of lyrics to Megurine Luka's Just Be Friends.
chair channel
Snipped strand of red string. Shattered glass. Spilled crystalline water. Balloons that no longer float.
Tears that fall.
"Let's…just be friends," the figure with mop black hair contrasting against his waxen white skin tells her. His face was vacant of any expression; no hint of hesitation, no trace of anguish, just…a blank slate.
She would not cry. (Not if he could see her.) So quietly, she whispers detachedly, "…okay" and walked off.
Then the tears came.
Denial; It came to mind in the early morning yesterday/ As if I gathered broken pieces of glass/ What the heck is this?
There was a crash, and then glass littered the cream carpeted floor, sparkling under the lights. There was a darkened stain on the carpet; from the water that spilled and fanned outwards. There was – and still is –
A clouded head.
(Don't think.)
Bargaining; "No matter what we do, life is just like that" I mumbled
Eventually, eventually. Luka reflects on yesterday's event.
What did I do wrong? What could I have done instead? She was on the verge of tears.
Depression; Yesterday a tranquil night made me realize/ It'd be useless to pick up fallen petals
"Clean…up," the woman in a simple white chiffon dress quietly commands herself. On ashen face were crystalline blue eyes devoid of emotions. Pink hair sloped towards her slim shoulders, as the dress caress her knees; she moves and bends towards the mess of fractured glass. Reaching out –
Luka cuts her finger.
Red swells as tears dissolved on her face once again. Then broken sobs resounds in the empty room.
Anger; Bringing up old issues, we hurt each other as badly as possible/ Our minds are full of thorns
There was a call. There was a knock. There was a voice – his voice. Apologies; over the phone which she fail to pick up, through the door which she refused to open. Her tears are still on her face; and with every memory of him, fresh tracks of tears were formed.
When she enters the shower, she reflects. With water pouring over her slightly hunched form, she is unable to escape from thinking. It is here that anger bubbles up – why apologise after a break-up? (It's not like we'll mend our relationship.) When she stares at the slightly fogged mirror, she reflects. With steam rising, snake-like, around her, she gazes and hates what she has become (puffy eyes, bloodshot eyes, pallid skin, thinned lips – ugly.) Here, again, is where anger resurfaces – why did I love you?
On a moment of impulse, she sent him a message.
I hate you.
Acceptance; Goodbye, my sweetheart, it's over/ We have to leave without turning back
It is only on a chilly winter in December, where everything was coated white with snow, that Luka sees him. Fresh tears threatened to spill. (Don't cry.)
A moment passed by (an eternity passed by). Then his melancholic smile ('I'm sorry. Please understand'). With closing eyes and a dipping head, they walked by one another.
An ache settled in her chest; yet her shoulders no longer hunch under burden.
(Goodbye.)