A/N: This is a story I wrote in the dead of night because I couldn't sleep. I hope you like the angst. R&R
So close yet so far
Tomorrow was the submission deadline. It was almost 2 in the morning, but he wasn't remotely worried. He only had a few pages left, and he already knew how he wanted to end the story.
Harima laid his pen down and took some time to look at his manga. The magazine he was drawing for had a pretty large fan base, which meant that his story would get read by a multitude of people. But he knew the meaning of this story would be lost to all of them. In his heart, there was only one true reader of the story, the one reader that he was desperately trying to send a message to.
The whole manga had started as an alternate universe he had created solely for himself, where he could play with the infinite possibilities that it presented. But it had since evolved into something more beautiful – a carrier of a hidden message meant for the one he loved, a message he had failed to deliver in the past. It was his own form of a confession.
Harima didn't understand why it was so hard. There had been a number of occasions, if seized well, where he could have opened up to her and told her how he really felt.
No. He reminded himself. He knew perfectly well why. He could blame it all on mistimed phone calls and misplaced letters, but he knew that the true reason why he couldn't confess – he was terrified of the outcome. Tenma's heart had never been Harima's to begin with. A rejection would be the end of everything Harima was fighting for. It was just easier to dwell between possibilities.
Yet, that one time when Tenma needed to buy a present for Karasuma and needed advice, it was Harima – out of all the boys in her class – that she chose to call. It told Harima that he still had a place somewhere in Tenma's heart. And it was no ordinary place either. It made the pain all the more unbearable, knowing that they could be something more, but seeing no way to advance.
The same thing was happening all over again. While Harima was drawing the final pages of his manuscript, the heroine was actually sitting right opposite him, busying herself with ink and a pen, applying the finishing touches for Harima's work, her brows furrowed in intense concentration. Yakumo couldn't make it again, or at least this was what she said to get her sister to come in her place. And this time, Harima hadn't bothered to cover up the characters with shady sunglasses – he had done that the last time Tenma was here, so that she wouldn't recognize who the characters really were – because this time, he truly wanted Tenma to know.
But Tenma remained blissfully ignorant, happy with herself to be able to help a friend out. It was fate's way of toying with Harima.
'Harima?' Tenma's voice pulled Harima out of his train of thought.
He looked up.
'I really like your story. I hope everything goes well for the main character.'
Harima wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry to that.
