Soro-chan: Back with a revised pre-written work. This was back when me and my ex were fighting...you know, before we broke up because he found another girl but then he wanted me back and I was like nooo...

I actually didn't think I could go back into this folder of work all about him. But now that I'm happy with my current boyfriend, I can finally look through these stories and not feel anything but nostalgia. It's great. It was so funny seeing my boyfriend's reaction when he read through all of them without my permission though. I'm actually really happy that I am able to not care about him anymore at all. I'm looking forward to sharing all of these stories with you. Though I may not even need him anymore, I still cherish these memories and experiences. And I want to share them with all of you.

I wrote this before I found FF, so it was originally done with other characters. I changed it to Shugo Chara ones. If there's any mistakes, please forgive me. And it's bound to be OOC. I don't know how they would act if they were in this situation anyways. Maybe it's not OOC if you think of it like that.

The genres are weird. It's some angst, drama, hurt, romance (for background), idk

Enjoy!


Black Coffee


Sky, gray.

Room, pitch dark.

Coffee, black.

Amu sat down inside the living room of her home. Her mother was rarely home due to work, and her father was rarely at home because he was often taking her younger sister out to do things. Usually the older sibling would have joined her father, but these past few weeks, Amu just didn't feel like she was in the mood to do so.

Staring into her coffee mug, she watched the stillness of the black surface. It was so dark, but she could still see the liquid sway and ripple as she slightly shook while it was between her fragile, pale fingers. It rippled a lighter color—almost looked dark blue.

Dark blue...like a certain someone's hair.

Like Ikuto's hair.

She held back an urge to sob, choking.

Her heart felt like it was about to rip apart right after she had carefully sewn it back together the night before with her thoughts just from one little color. A color that wasn't even there—how could coffee look dark blue? Her imagination wanted to wreck her even more, didn't it.

A droplet fell from her cheek into the drink. It slowly hit the surface, rippled out more dark blue colors, and then disappeared completely.

And more followed to rescue that little tear, to no avail. So many tears were lost to the dark...the way her heart felt lost.

So lost.

She couldn't bear the pain.

She hadn't done a single thing to deserve this. She hadn't done a single thing to deserve being ignored by the man she loves. She hadn't done a single thing to be enduring this pain for weeks when the other side probably wasn't even feeling a thing.

What had she done? Was it so wrong to want to be with their loved one as much as possible? Was it so wrong to want to be with them as often as they could? Is it something that was so terrible that it would be talked about so negatively?

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair.

Her phone was on the side of her, lighting up with a simple social media post. His name, in bold letters, sliced her whole in half. He had just posted a picture of him hanging out with his female best friend—the one that Amu always felt was her rival.

"Just went out..." Amu read slowly. "With Jenna to get coffee."

Could it get any more painful?

The pinkette fell back into bed, clutched a body pillow close to her heart, and sobbed, the coffee mug left there on the surface of her blankets. It stayed still on the sheets, holding itself upright as tall as possible. It would not fall. It would not break. It would not spill.

With every sob, the bed shook with the young girl and pushed the mug to the edge of the bed. Slowly, it crept. Slowly, it moved. Slowly, it was slipping. Amu let out a deep breath and screamed into her pillow as the mug sadly overlooked her owner's shaking silhouette.

It fell,

it broke,

it spilled.

And Amu, though she heard it all and knew she should clean it up, stayed in bed.


Sky, dark blue.

Car, dimmed.

Coffee, black.

He sat in his car, with Jenna by his side. Her blonde hair smelled. Her dark tan bothered him. The way she dressed and looked and acted...

It calmed him.

He wouldn't have to think about Amu this way.

"Why are you guys acting so distant anyways?" Jenna asked. She sighed, rolling her window up as Ikuto began merging into the freeway. "It's so stupid. You're so stupid."

"I'm not," Ikuto defended himself with a careless tone. "I'm not."

Jenna wasn't convinced. She knew the whole story. "Why'd you say it twice?"

"...I don't know. I just did."

Jenna rolled her eyes. This man was a fool. But he was a good fool. And that girlfriend of his wasn't anything good, from what she knew herself. However, she knew that this time, it was the boy sitting next to her who was at fault.

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

Ikuto kept silent as he picked up his coffee mug. The mug was hot, burning hot. Without even taking a sip as he intended, he placed it back down. He continued to drive for miles, his coffee mug perhaps cooled but still not touched.

The blonde woman next to him shook her head, clicked her tongue, and sipped her own coffee. "You know, it wasn't right of you in the fist place to talk shit about your own girlfriend."

"I wasn't talking shit."

"It's shit if you tell everyone Amu is clingy as hell, and comes over to your house too much. It's shit if you get cranky and instead of telling her upright, you just blow her off like she isn't there until she leaves. It's shit if you get angry at every little thing she does in your house."

"I didn't get angry at every little thing."

"She was hungry," Jenna bellowed. "Hungry and you wouldn't take her out. She tried to cook, and you yelled at her for using your kitchen to make herself something to eat. You yelled at her to clean up afterwards, even though that would have been a given."

Ikuto rolled his eyes. "I thought you didn't like her."

"I don't, but I don't like the way you're treating her even more."

"You're supposed to console me, not make me feel at fault."

"A best friend isn't just simply on your side 24/7. A best friend leads you to the better side, 24/7."

Ikuto sighed. "If she wanted to eat, she should've just gone home."

"Ikuto, that's no reason to ignore her for three weeks."

"I'm not ignoring her."

"You're indirectly ignoring her."

"No, I'm not."

"You are."

"So what if I am?"

The car stopped. Jenna looked outside her window, spotting her house. "Whatever, you just think about it Ikuto. I love you and all, but you have to accept the fact that you've been a jerk to someone who's done a lot more for you than you think." The blonde left the car, closed the door, and disappeared behind the trees in front of her home.

Ikuto continued driving.

"I'm not at fault. I'm not at fault at all. If anything, she should apologize to me."

He took a left turn, and a left turn again. His home was near. "She should apologize to me. I didn't even talk shit. I was only venting. That's not talking shit... After all, I have to let out my feelings somehow. She has her best friends, I have mine. We aren't that dependent on each other. It's only been three weeks."

Parking his car inside his garage, he took out his phone. "Amu posted a picture. 'Black coffee, for a dark mood.' What is that supposed to mean?" It was posted about an hour ago.

Ikuto looked through his own photos and dug up an old one of him and Jenna getting coffee about two months ago. Quickly, he posted it, with a caption that would surely bother Amu. Maybe enough for her to apologize so they could go back to normal.

And if she didn't, then he would pretend this never happened. They would go back to normal eventually.

Eventually.

"Ah, my coffee," he remembered as he reached over to the side to grab the mug. Ikuto got out of his car, locked the doors, and began walking when suddenly his mug became hotter and hotter.

The bottom of it had not cooled at all.

"Shit!"

Immediately, without a second thought, he let go of the cup—squeezing his burned palm and running towards the sink to cool his hand. He didn't even think about the coffee mug that he had just let go of.

It fell,

it broke,

it spilled.

And Ikuto, he didn't care about anything but himself.


Soro-chan: Not a happy ending, I know. There is a sequel to this. It's not a happy ending though. It could also pass off as a oneshot on its own. I don't know. Cheers to my official return to this account though!


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