Whispers
Disclaimer: I don't own Furi Kuri, FLCL, Fooly Cooly . . . however they spell it!
Summary: Oneshot, Haruko x Naota. I knew she was still here, with me. Even if she was gone from the face of the Earth. She was still here, her whispers talking softly in my ears.
Roselle: Hey, I'm back. I'm not sure that this would be as good as the other one, but I hope that it will. I'm sorry if it's not. Please forgive me, thank you for reading (If you do read this ... )
Whispers ...
The pink haired woman rode on her motorcycle, the blue Rickenbacker bass guitar strapped to her back. She smiled, the wind flowing through her short hair as she sped through the traffic filled streets of Mabase.She wouldn't let Naota down, he was counting on her to arrive. The goggles were perched high up on her forehead as she sped faster and faster to hurry and get to her destination on time. He meant a lot to her; although she would never admit such to the kid.
She continued on, thinking as her eyes averted to the clouds up in the sky. She hadn't been paying attention to the road or else she would have noticed that a truck was turning the intersection until it was too late ...
Whispers ...
He stood on the corner, his older brother's baseball bat held solemnly in his hand. Where was she? She was supposed to be here an hour ago. The lazy bum, she had probably forgotten and had fell asleep. That was just like her to do something as such. He wouldn't be surprised if she was curled up in his bed, snoring loudly.
The boy decided to go home and confront the lazy housekeeper. The one who kept his heart. He walked down the street, walking past a few people who were talking about an accident that had happened involving a woman with pink hair. For a minute, he thought about Haruhara Haruko but shook it off. Many women dyed their hair today as a part of the whole Lolita fashions now a day so it was likely that a few women had pink hair.
He continued on down the street, a few people huddled by Rick's Television shop. They crowded around, watching what he believed to be the five o' clock news. He stopped to listen, for his television was broken by Haruko when she grabbed the bat and decided to practice with some rocks. Long story short, she ended up hitting the antenna and caused it to fall to the ground and break into pieces. Damn Haruko, she was always creating mischief.
"And in today's news, a woman in the midst of her twenties has been involved in a car accident somewhere near the old ballpark field. Police identify her to be resident citizen Haruko Haruhara. The last words she muttered were, I'm sorry Nandaba. We'll have more on the accident later. Now to you Kurosaki." The boy could not believe it, was he hearing correctly? The words swarmed in his head like bees with honey.
Midst of twenties ...
Car accident ...
Haruko Haruhara ...
I'm sorry Nandaba ...
The boy couldn't believe it, they could be talking about the same Haruko could they? The one that he loved, the one that he had called a lazy bum, the one who had taught him how to play his guitar at such a young age when no one else would.
Still in disbelief, the boy set off toward where the accident had occurred.
Whispers ...
A group of people stood around the scene, their hands over their mouths as they watched the police cover a lifeless body. Blood was splattered on the crime scene, motorcycle parts scattered all over the place. A truck was turned over, the glass shattered and poultry spilled everywhere.
His eyes looked over the scene, looking as the police lifted the body up into the ambulance. Pink hair stuck out, a hand laying over the side of the Gurney. The boy bent down, holding up the yellow crime evidence tape that did not allow all the outsiders in, but he was no outsider. He was Naota Nandaba, the boy who loved Haruko.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets, walking over to goggles splattered with her blood. Haruko's blood. He picked them up, her signature goggles that she would never leave the house without. They taunted him, reminding him that she would never be back to wear them again.
"I saw you first. You're the one I want." Haruko said softly, her eyes drifting up to meet his. She looked so . . . innocent. So pure and yet he still knew that a mischievous side laid deeper inside of her.
He dropped the goggles as soon as he noticed her favorite guitar laying on the ground, crimson freshly dropping from the metal chords.His fingers ran over the chords, vibrating. They created a melodic note but specks of blood splattered over his sweatshirt as he did so. A tear escaped from his brown eye, knowing that he would never hear her play her guitar anymore . . . he would never feel her breath on his neck, he would never feel her.
Whispers ...
He watched as everyone Haruko knew gathered around for this unfortunate event; her funeral. No one thought that someone as herself would die at such a young age, but of course everyone constantly worried about her thrill for life. How she would do such dangerous things without hesitation like the motorcycle for instance.
"And we are here today to gather around to mourn the loss of our beloved Haruhara Haruko. She was truly an angel who lived for today and not for tomorrow, she made the best of what she had and ..." The reverend continued on, talking about what a wonderful life that Haruko had lived.
And then the hardest part of the funeral had come, they had to bury her casket under the earth. This girl whom he loved ... she was now laying in a marble casket. Why hadn't Kami spared such a woman? Sure, she wasn't perfect and she did have flaws; but he loved that about her nonetheless. She was truly one of a kind. They had made plans to ensure their future together, even if she was three years older than him. She wanted to move out of Mabase and start a new life with him, to raise a family together. And now their plan was shattered before his very eyes, it had gone done in flames when she was rushing to meet him at the old baseball field.
He felt a hand on his shoulders and he turned around to see Mamimi Samejima dressed in black. She embraced him slowly, holding him tightly as if she would never let go of him. That was the difference, Haruko had let go. She had let her guitar fall at her feet, breaking in half as the chords snapped and curled up at the end. That was truly the difference.
Ten years later ...
A woman with long, Auburn hair pulled into a bun stood in the kitchen while a young girl with short ochre hair and brown eyes laid under the table playing with a fat grey cat. The cat purred noisily, wishing that the small girl would leave him be. The girl pouted, crossing her arms along her chest.
"Your no fun Miu Miu." The girl whined as she stroked his head softly. Miu Miu purred once more, this time it was not one of annoyance but one in which Miu Miu was scared out of it's wits mind. Miu Miu stretched lazily and trotted out of the dining room and into the forbidden room.
"What is it Miu Miu?" The girl asked, running to go and catch Miu Miu before he wandered into trouble. Father had told her that if he caught Miu Miu inside of that room one more time, that he would get rid of the blasted cat. The girl never knew what was so forbidden about this room. Maybe he kept the presents in there that he claimed Santa Claus had brought from the South Pole - come on, everybody knows Santa Claus isn't real.
Miu Miu clawed at the door and it opened slowly, just enough that the chubby cat could get through. The girl decided to go after Miu Miu before he got into mischief and got the both of them in trouble. The girl sneaked slowly into the room and her eyes caught onto the sight of Miu Miu marveling over a glass case display.
"Miu Miu ..." The girl groaned, walking over to Miu Miu who was still looking at the object in the glass case. She bent over to pick up the cat when she stopped, something had caught her eye. A blue Rickenbacker bass guitar, an old article entitled Car Accident in Mabase, Victim: Young girl, and goggles stood in the display. She grabbed the handle of the display case, wanting to play such a marvelous thing. The case door creaked as it opened, the girl's finger extending to touch one of the chords.
"Don't." A harsh whisper came from in the direction of the door and the girl's arm drooped back down next to her side obediently. She knew that it was her father; she and Miu Miu had been caught at the scene of the crime. Her father pointed toward the door and she grabbed Miu Miu, hurrying before her father became even angrier.
Whispers ...
The man slammed the door violently, closing the case. That daughter of his, always wandering into places that she knew that she shouldn't. But she had, she was truly growing up to be like Haruhara. And he had to stop that, before she ended up like Haruhara had.
"Like me, you mean?" Before his eyes appeared her once more, her captivating bright pink hair and fluorescent yellow eyes. She had on her baseball uniform, the bat in her hands and her cap perched down low to cover her eyes.
"Yes like you." He said coldly, not wishing to engage in conversation with her. He had work to finish up, office hours were hectic and usually kept him occupied. He came home with more work than ever; which meant that he would probably have to work till midnight.
"I see." She said softly, floating over to the case. Her fingers traced the outline of her old companion and she sighed softly, reaching through the glass to touch the chords. She strummed the chords of the guitar with her thumb, causing a melodic sound to come from within it.
"Stop it. That is annoying." The man commanded, sitting in his chair to get some work done. He could not concentrate with her constantly making noise. She needed to leave, she was bringing back memories which he did not need to relive.
"I remember a time when you used to like when I did that. What happened to you Naota, has Mamimi changed you?" Haruko asked, referring to his wife. He froze, a hint of jealousy and bitterness coming from Haruko when she said his wife's name.
"I changed when you died." He said, running his pen across the legal document. She floated over from the glass case to sit on his desk. She looked in his eyes, the Naota she loved was still buried deep inside him. He was still there, she knew it. Her death had made him a cruel, cold snake. They say, when the one you love dies you die inside as well.
"I can tell. Why won't you let your daughter spread her wings? You keep her locked up like a prisoner ... why is that?" Haruko asked, swinging the bat around. Naota refused to tell her, he stayed silent. Because he refused to tell her his reason.
"You can't tell me can you. You don't want her to end up like me, isn't it? Am I that bad of a person?" Haruko saw Naota stiffen at her immediate tone of anger and despair. She had guessed it truthfully.
"You are right. I do not want to lose another loved one as I did you." He said softly, looking into the face as the woman that he used to love. She was no longer here, just a ghost. He did not want the same thing to happen to his daughter as it did her. He could not bear to lose another loved one as he had ten years ago. Love did not come easy for him after the ordeal, he had to learn to love. The gift to Love was taken away from him - it was buried within the coffin that Haruko laid in.
"You didn't lose me. I'm still here Naota." She said softly, caressing him. She leaned over, her hand stroking his face. She looked into his eyes and her lips curled into a smile. She was still here.
"You do not exist Haruko San. You do not contain a soul, you do not contain a heart. You're a ghost Haruko San. I lost you a long time ago." Naota said angrily, banging the fist on his desk. The witch wanted to mess with his mind, make him think that she still existed when she did not.
"My heart, my soul. The guitar is my heart and my soul. That is what contains me, what keeps me alive. It is me Naota." Haruko said sadly, a tear falling from her eye. She waved goodbye before departing, her body disappearing.
Naota watched as the door opened and Mamimi stood in the doorway, looking at her husband as he stared at the guitar in the display case. Mamimi shook her head, knowing that he was thinking about Haru-San once again.
"Dinner shall be ready soon." Mamimi told him before turning on her heels to go and finish preparing the meal. Naota nodded, knowing that it hurt his wife to know that he still thought about her.
Whispers ...
The guitar, as long as he had the guitar, he would have her. The guitar was her heart and her soul, that was who she was. A smile appeared before him, looking into the glass of the display case. The guitar flashed for a minute and he saw Haruko smile at him, holding the bat in her hands.
"Your right Haruko ..." He whispered, exiting the room to go and apologize to his daughter about earlier. He knew that he had hurt his daughter as well. And he was sorry for that. "... Your right about everything."
Whispers ...
The door shut closed, the room engulfed in darkness. The guitar sat there, playing one last note. The chords of the guitar vibrated quietly and Haruko stood there in the room, knowing that her job was done.
"I'm always right Naota." She whispered, a yellow Vespa appearing by her side. She got on, riding out into the night. She looked back one more time at the Nandaba residence before disappearing into the sky. She would always be there for him, looking after him. After all, she loved him. Even if he had moved on, she still loved him. Whenever he needed her, she would be there ... for she would whisper softly in his ears.
Whispers ... Haruko x Naota
Sorry, I don't think that this was as good as the Mamimi x Canti one but I tried my best. I hope that's good enough though. The guitar is a way that Naota can call Haruko, it contains her spirit, soul, memories and her heart. He doesn't want his daughter, whom he loves very much to die like Haruko had in which is why he's so protective and strict with her. The story took place ten years after her death.
Review and tell me what you think, I thought it was ok. But I know it could have been better, it probably could have been. I'm sorry :( . Please forgive me ... I hoped you liked it.
LuvAngelM.S - Whispers , Haruko x Naota