A/N: Onesided Shinku/Jun...whoop. R & R, thanks.
Shinku doesn't bother to smile and feign interest anymore—because it's pointless and because it hurts so very much. What's the point—they all know, and there's nothing she can do about it. The other sisters try and deal with her in their own way, but most of them just leave her alone, edging around her like she's some sort of feral animal that will lash out at them. She doesn't like it. Their caution makes her feel sick, like something that should be locked up.
Suigintou mostly avoids her, even though they're both miserable now, but she just doesn't care and doesn't like her enough to try and be sympathetic. After all, since when has Suigintou ever tried to get along with her?
Kanaria, curious little thing that she is, oh, she's just so very nice and polite and sweet, but it just makes her want to yell at her to go away, because do you honestly care, do you, Kana? Well, um, Shinku, are you alright? You seem a bit down lately. She wants to simultaneously laugh and cry when she hears her sister ask this, in timid, tentative tones, because really, darling, she's so much more than a bit down nowadays. Whenever she sends her sister one of those biting remarks, she always scurries away, oh, oh, I'm really sorry, Shinku-chan, but later, she feels bad, because really, she only meant well, and perhaps that drawling, scornful tone might have scared the poor thing.
Souseiseki just annoys her nowadays, because she's so blunt and uncaring, so when she marches up to her, and says in that voice of hers, swinging those damn shears around, well, what's up, Shinku, she just tells her to leave her alone. Well, damn, you didn't need to be so rude. Is it about master, then? Leave me alone, Shinku snarls, and finally the irritating one goes away.
She can stand Souseiseki's twin sister, Suiseiseki, more, because really, they aren't in so different situations. Even though she never tells her, she can follow Suiseiseki's eyes, and she notices they always land on her twin sister, and sometimes, when she catches her unaware, her sister will give her the saddest look she's ever seen, something so despairing and wistful that she feels shallow in comparison. It's strange, how things turn out, isn't it, Shinku, she will sometimes say, her mouth quirking up in that strange, melancholy smile. Sometimes, just sometimes, she's actually kind of jealous of Souseiseki and Suiseiseki's bond—she wishes she had a twin sister she trusted implicitly, because she's just Shinku. Shinku, friends with everyone, but never ever close enough.
Jun isn't around anymore, because he goes to school now, and does what they want him to do. She misses her old Jun, the one who would grouch at her and make her tea and laugh with her—this is a new, grown-up Jun, who is not amused by the antics of dolls anymore, who does his homework like a responsible student, and who has a girlfriend. Tomoe.
Ah, Tomoe. It would be so easy, so very easy, just to give in and hate her—because, oh god, she's so jealous, jealous of that beating heart contained within her ribcage, that small, pretty little face, with warm a l i v e flesh and sparkling eyes, and the fact that she could give Jun everything he could ever want.
And she never could. Yes, isn't she pathetic? She's in love with her master. A human.
But what can she do, what can she do now that the play is over, the curtains have fallen, and the actors have taken their bows—because deluding herself with daydreams of a happily ever after won't ever be enough. So she turns away from the world, and tries to wipe her tears, because maybe, just maybe, she'll feel better someday.