Disclaimer: I don't own Penguins of Madagascar and Karakuri Pierrot of Vocaloid. They're owned by their respective owners. And I happen to not owning the cover of this fic. The cover is owned by someone from DeviantArt. I would say sorry if I used the cover without a warning, so—all copyrights reserved.
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The penguin sat at one room, staring at the black grand piano in front of him—stared at it with his wistful sky blue eyes. Slowly but sure, he lifted his flipper and pressed the white piano keys, closing his eyes, letting the dejected feeling filled inside him.
As a penguin, he should not be able to play a grand piano, for his flippers were not fingers. But somehow, he could still play the instrument. He once again pressed the other keys, and then lifted his left flipper; finally letting the notes flowed through the air.
This was the uncounted time she dumped him. She promised to meet him at the harbor where he met her in the time they were going to save her brother Francis from Coney Island (and they already realized that her brother was actually Dr. Blowhole), but it had been two hours since he arrived. The more he waited, the more he felt like the birds that flew by and the clouds that floated in the sky were laughing at his stupidity—despite his huge intelligence. He finally realized that she broke her own promise, and that Doris never wanted to be there.
His heart broken into pieces; realized that he had just knew it. Now he knew that he was just her puppet clown—he knew she indirectly humiliated him in front of the public. How the beauty had fallen before him.
As the intro played, he hummed, and finally sang.
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Two hours after the arranged time of our rendezvous,
I was still waiting alone. So that must be your answer.
The birds flew by the harbor and the floating clouds
were laughing at my stupidity.
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He had accepted the reality. But yet, he was unable to believe it—he never wanted to believe it. It was so easy to move on when he had accepted the reality, but how difficult it was to accept it. The people were laughing at his stupidity, making him felt depressed. He knew deep down, he still love her, but he also knew that she also laughed at him.
He chuckled, thinking that she also thought he was her puppet clown. How worse could she put troubles to him into? She wouldn't think that he was just an ordinary penguin, would she? She would think that she had humiliated him; she could laugh and laugh with no end.
He closed his eyes, wanted those pictures of the laughing Doris to disappear, erased from his mind.
Once again, he pressed those black and white piano keys, letting those wistful and sad notes flowed through the air—as if he wanted his comrades to feel what he had felt.
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It's so easy, and yet so difficult,
for I can move on as soon as I accept reality.
Unable to believe it, not wanting to believe it,
I must be a clown inside your mind, aren't I?
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It felt like days, but it was just two hours, and she wasn't even there when he arrived. He actually never wanted to believe it, and he never could. But one thing that was crystal clear; she dumped him. The beautiful Doris had dumped Kowalski in front of the people.
And the worst part was he didn't know. He couldn't believe it; he wouldn't believe it. He never wanted and never would believe it. But it was the truth—and the whole team knew that. Private would've said to him to be strong and to not believe what people said to him. Private may not the strategist and weapon specialist, but the youngling was the love expert in these times of situations.
Ah, all those thoughts made him spin and spin—and he was tired of spinning. He wanted to get those thought away from him. He was tired of being ashamed, he was tired of being humiliated, and he was tired of those thoughts!
His breath had run out. He ran out of breath and could never get a breath.
But another thing he knew: This was his sad end. He knew all along that he would never able to touch her like his leader who was always beside the otter. He still loved her—and that ache his chest more.
So this was what it felt like, a heart-broken life. The most painful situation was he had broken up, but he still loved her with every pieces of his heart. But it was too late—he could never be able reach her.
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Ah, I spin and spin, and am tired of spinning.
Ah, my breath, my breath has run out.
Yes, this is the sad end of my fate.
I am still unable to reach you.
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He felt like no one was there for him. No one was going to help him out from this kind of situation. Not even a universe was going to help him. The earth kept spin and spin like there was nothing to do except for spinning—with him on it. The earth carried him on itself and spun, unconcerned of his unpleasant event happening in his life.
He remembered when she told him that it was over. He held his breath for one second. And he was still standing there, standing in front of her with dumbfounded expression. Did she just say that? He thought.
"I'm so sorry," her voice echoed through his mind. "It's over. We can no longer do this."
He frowned, reminding those moments she bid her goodbye. He actually didn't want this to end—he never wanted to. He still loved her—and that was the worst part of his love life.
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The Earth, carrying me, spins.
With an unconcerned expression, it spins.
For just one second, I hold my breath,
and, unable to say anything, I stand still dumbfounded.
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He remembered the warmth of her skin, those eyes, and that smile—oh; they were going to break him if he couldn't bear it. When he stared her turning away from him, he clenched his flippers, trying hard to breathe and to fight those tears.
"Men should not cry," that was what Skipper said. That was why he tried not to cry that time—because men should not cry.
He clenched his flippers and beak tightly to hold back his scream and tears. He felt really tired of being humiliated in front of the people. And even his team knew it. He couldn't hide his shame. She dumped him behind his back—he didn't know it, and many people found it so obvious.
She either didn't want him or didn't need him. But he still loved her, and he didn't know how to endure the pain in his chest. Too many memories back then, when he confessed that he liked her, and those times when they together beat Dr. Blowhole with his team, and those other times.
Those thought once again were spinning around his mind, making him spun and spun without any end. Oh, he should know better than to try to find out.
And he didn't know that three certain penguins were staring at him with sympathy.
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It's a coincidence, and yet also fate,
for I knew it'd be better if I didn't try to find out.
I felt your warmth on my skin.
Your smile and your gestures are going to break me.
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A flipper touched his shoulder. Kowalski stopped play the piano and turned to the owner of the flipper. Skipper and the two others—Private and Rico—stood behind him with wistful eyes, as if told him to stop worry and stop miss her. Kowalski stared at them with disbelief, as if he knew the meaning of their expressions were and told them mentally that it was impossible to miss and forget about her.
"You have to learn to let go, Kowalski," Skipper's voice echoed, with wistful tone filled in his voice. It was as if he knew Kowalski would think that.
Kowalski stared at his leader with disbelief and slowly shook his head, meaning that he couldn't and wouldn't learn to let go of her.
"If you keep like this, you'll be mad," Private's voice echoed, with worry filled in his voice. His ocean blue eyes stared at the analyst with worry, as if told him not to be so stubborn.
"Y-you too?" Kowalski's voice trembled, to the three of them, to be exact.
"Kowalski," Skipper warned.
"Please," Private pleaded. He touched Kowalski's free flipper. "For us," he added.
Kowalski couldn't believe it. Were they insulted him or just played with him? He turned to the crazed penguin to look for defense, but Rico slowly shook his head—as if Rico told him to learn to let her go. He felt as if the whole world was spinning that time.
"You can cry," Skipper said slowly. Despite the declare that he had said a few weeks ago—'men shouldn't cry'—Skipper still let his poor older 'son' to cry. And the analyst threw himself to the leader, sobbing silently.
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Ah, I spin and spin, and am tired of spinning.
Ah, I spin and spin, and am tired of spinning.
Ah, my breath, my breath, my breath is stopping.
Ah, my breath, my breath, my breath is stopping.
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That time, Kowalski was waiting at the harbor for her. But it had been two hours since he arrived, and there she wasn't even show her nose to him. His heart was broken to pieces. He finally knew she dumped him. He lowered his head to hold back his tears, but it didn't work. Those tears were flowing down from his sparkling sky blue eyes to his cheek, flowed to the tip of his beak and dropped to the ground. Those drops of tears dropped all over until the ground beneath him was wet because of his tears.
"Men shouldn't cry!"
He couldn't. He just couldn't. He couldn't hold back his tears anymore.
Enough. If he kept waiting in there, he was just going to break himself. He couldn't wait in there for her forever. He knew she never wanted him. Those things would begin to change—she was going to change.
Ah, what a scary thought. He never imagined the friendly young Doris would change into a cold dolphin.
He quit. He didn't want to wait here anymore. Otherwise, he would end up broke himself. And he never wanted that to happen.
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Ah, that things will begin to change,
ah, is a scary thought.
I quit. I'm not waiting here for you anymore.
Otherwise, I really will end up breaking.
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"She's just a clown who will never understand you, Kowalski," Skipper cooed. "There are many girls in this world that you can choose."
Clown. That word made him chuckled in bitterness through his sobs.
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Ah, I spin and spin, and am tired of spinning.
Ah, my breath, my breath is stopping.
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Right, she thought that he was just her puppet clown, whose always did what his master told him.
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Yes, I am the clown that you desire.
Please command me as you wish.
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The four penguins didn't know that on the corner of the room, there was a clown mask, lying helplessly on the ground. As if it heard their conversation, the mask's hollowed left eye let out a drop of tear, flowed through its cheek and dropped on the ground. It was, as if the clown mask was grieving for Kowalski.
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The End
A/N:
Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! ^^ Hope everyone got delicious chocolate. This one-shot story is based on Karakuri Pierrot by Hatsune Miku of Vocaloid. I didn't mean to bash Doris, really! I just felt that Karakuri Pierrot is kinda fit with this. Really, trust me. Oh, for the feel, please listen to Karakuri Pierrot Gero version in piano cover. It really made me cry...
So please review...