As of this moment I am infected with IU addiction. IU, IU, IU. For those who don't know, IU is a singer.
I adore SeeUxYuuma very much~! They go well together don't you think? I hope you enjoy this little one-shot! ^^
Prototype
The last time I opened my eyes, everything was an illustration.
Now the pictures are vague.
It's unlit.
The world I live in has been dyed into a dark shade of black.
I realized I was given a curse.
My eyes flashed open for the first time in what felt like years. It's the feeling of a child entering the real world for the first time after leaving its mother's womb. The first thing I noticed was the contact my eyelashes made with the warm silk that rotated around my eyes. It surprised me for a minute and I didn't move until I gained the courage to reach my eyes. The silk was rough and the feeling I sensed when it touched my hand felt bizarre. I felt myself covered in a warm cover and wearing clothes I didn't remember owning.
No matter how many times I blinked, the vision stayed the same. I became terrified. I tried to stay calm as I continued to try to fix my vision. It ended as a failure. The only solution left to fix this problem was to scream and believe it's all a dream. And I did.
I screamed.
But the dull vision stayed and I was forced to believe this is reality.
I can hear, touch, smell, and taste. However, I could not see.
There was a sudden sound of a door opening and I heard two voices chatting to one another. One I knew instantly. It was Kiyoteru, my editor. The other was a voice I didn't recognize.
"Well," said a cheerful voice of a female. "Looks like someone finally decided to wake up."
I knew at that moment I wasn't home or anywhere near my small apartment. I was in the hospital.
"Yuuma, how are you feeling?" I felt Kiyoteru sit next to my bed, tapping his foot impatiently. The moment I felt his presence next to me, I reached outward to grab onto whatever I could that belonged to him.
"Kiyoteru," I clinged onto the fabric of his attire like he was my last hope. "I can't see anything. What happened? Where's the sun? Where did all the lights go?"
"Excuse me," the lady cut in. "I need to change his wound quickly." I felt her hands push my head lightly against her stomach as she reached to the back of my head to untie the bandage covering my eyes. One by one the bandages slowly started to reveal the upper part of my face. Slowly the soft breeze made contact with my eyes as I flinched at the stinging.
With the bandages off, I slowly opened my eyes ignoring the sharp pain in my genes signaling me to stop. Now nothing was covering my eyes, but I still couldn't see. Not even a little hopeful shade of white or gray. It was all coal black. I felt her delicate hand hold onto my shoulders firmly to keep me still. The whole time she inserted what it felt like antidotes to my swollen eyes, I didn't try to do anything. I didn't even dare to move.
"You were almost a goner," she said, replacing the old bandage with new ones. "You had us worry."
"Yuuma," Kiyoteru's voice entered my ears, "can you hear me?"
"Of course I can."
"Do you remember my name?"
I shivered at the thought. "You're Hiyama Kiyoteru, my editor."
I heard him lean back and sigh in relief until the other voice spoke again.
"Do you know your name?"
"Yuuma," I responded.
"Do you feel any pain?" she asked. "Anything you feel uncomfortable with?"
"My eyes, I can't see anything."
"Oh, it was a mess by the time you came in. Do you remember what happened before you arrived here?"
I had to stay quiet for many seconds to regain the lost memories. One by one, the fog covering my past started to disappear. I remember everything I needed to know. I remember everything I did before I came here. "Car accident," I breathed.
"Reckless driving," Kiyoteru muttered, then turning to the nurse, he asked, "Will he be able to see again?"
"I'm not sure," the woman responded. "The doctors are still trying to figure it out. We'll have to see how well he recovers before they can tell."
I felt Kiyoteru's warm hand land on my shoulder and I turned my head to look like I was looking at him though I couldn't.
"Everything's going to be alright," he said. "I called the boss and explained everything. He knows. You'll be alright."
"What about my next deadline?" I asked.
"Relax," he sighed again. "You're a workaholic. You just published a book a few days ago and you're already starting on your next big project. If you really want to do something, think of a plot for your next story."
"I already have an idea."
"Then think of one for the one after that."
"I did!"
"Please lower your voices," the nurse broke her silence, "this is a hospital, and there are other patients here as well. Mr. Hiyama, if you could do me a favor and come outside with me to answer some questions…."
Kiyoteru's big hand firmly gripped on my shoulder one last time before standing up to leave the room. I silently listened to his heavy footsteps making contact with the polished tiles before the sound of the door closing canceled the sound altogether.
Believe it or not, it didn't really bother me how I was handicapped. I thought I could learn to live with the fact that I was blind. But soon, I grew frustrated day by day for my loss of sight. I couldn't do anything freely as I wanted to. I needed someone with me whenever I wanted to move around. The worst part is I couldn't start writing my next big series. As days went by, I lost my mind. Even Kiyoteru couldn't keep me from raging. Sometime, I would lose my senses and go crazy. Whatever I could lift using my strength, it ended up being thrown across the room and shattered into a million little pieces. The only way to solve the problem was to handcuff me to my bed and tie me up.
The only freedom I had left was my voice.
Day by day I screamed like a maniac, but no one heard me. Or if they did, no one came to help.
I was terrified.
I felt like… a freak.
It was misery for me. It haunted me for what it felt like forever. They didn't even know if my sight was permanent or temporarily. I was forced to learn how to live without my eyes.
I was cursed.
Every day was the same as any other day. I wake up, can't see anything, feel agonizing, and start going berserk. In the end, the problem would be solved by locking me up and force anything edible down my throat whenever I refused.
Not one patient dared to enter my room. A nurse once told me I scared them away. But one day, I had an unexpected visitor enter my room when I wasn't acting as a lunatic.
It was like any other day. I was lying on my bed with both of my hands covering my face, quietly whispering to myself that this is all a dream. I heard the sound of the door open and the light footsteps of someone entering. Soon after, there was a sound of the door closing.
"I'm not hungry." I said, still not removing my hands from my face.
The person didn't reply but I knew someone was in here. I removed my hands and after waiting for a few seconds, I still didn't receive a response. I knew by now it wasn't an employee.
"Who's there?" I asked, repositioning myself to sit on the bed. I said it a little louder than I intended it to be and felt guilty. I probably scared someone with my hoarse voice. But instead of a squeal, I felt a hand cover my mouth.
"Shhh! You're too loud!" a young yet mature female voice rang through my ears. "Listen, I'm being chased. Let me hide under your bed before they come find me."
I nodded and agreed even though I didn't know the person. A few seconds later, I head the door open again with the sound of a small crowd out of breath.
"Excuse me," a female asked, "have you seen a patient around?"
Seen? She must be blind.
"No," I replied, feeling a bit of anger rising. I pointed to under my bed. "I didn't see anyone come in."
Seconds later, there was a sound of 'Ah-ha!' followed by a loud 'No!' and the sound of footsteps moving away.
"We're sorry for bothering you," the female said apologetically. "We'll make sure this never happens again. And I'm terribly sorry about… earlier."
"Don't worry about it." I replied.
"Miss, please, go back to your room."
"No!" the owner of the young voice shouted, creating loud sounds on the floor using her feet. "It's not over yet!"
They slowly dragged her out of the room doing all they could to silence her without using any force. Before I heard the door close, I heard her shout, "You liar! You promised!"
I agreed with her by laughing.
Did I promise? I am messed up.
I'm cursed.
I was silent for a few minutes until I started to laugh again thinking what she said earlier. After that, I spent some time struggling to untie myself.
I was that crazy.
The next day, I was pulled away from my slumber after feeling something cold touch my fingers. I quickly hid my hand under the soft blanket feeling a shiver go down my spine.
"Don't!" a voice semi-shouted. "You're going to ruin them!"
"Who's there?" I warned, quickly getting up to see who's there. I swore after looking at the blackness. "Who are you?"
"Calm down," the voice replied in a huff. "It's me."
"Me?"
I heard the voice becoming annoyed. "Yeah," a female said, "me."
That was all I needed for me to recognize her voice. She was the little troublemaker from yesterday.
"Are you hiding again?" I questioned.
"Nope," she replied, grabbing my wrist from underneath the blanket. "Give me your hand. The paint didn't dry yet."
"What paint?" I said, pulling my hand away from her grasp. I pulled my hand closer to my nose and sniffed a strange smell on my fingers. It smelled like bleach. It smelled of something similar to toxic.
"What are you doing to my hand?" I demanded, glaring at her behind the covers of the bandages. "You're not supposed to be in here!"
"Painting your nails," she responded innocently, like I was asking her a childish question.
"My… nails?"
"Uh-huh."
I breathed out in disbelief. "You're crazy."
"I'm not!" she exclaimed, grabbing my hand. "That's what everyone tells me."
"That's because you are. Now get out of my room."
"Not before I finish painting-"
"Get out," I said with my teeth gritted tightly together. After realizing the harshness of my tone, I relaxed my shoulders and said calmly, "You shouldn't be here."
"Why shouldn't I?"
"Because…"
"Because why?"
"You'll get caught."
"It's the middle of the night," she snorted. "I'll be alright."
I huffed. "You came into my room in the middle of the night to paint my nails?"
"Uh-huh," she didn't have any problems denying it. "It's a little payback."
"You should go bother someone else."
"Why? I'm not here because I have to. It's because I want to."
"I'm dangerous," I breathed out, sending shivers down my own spine. There was a short pause before she responded back.
"No, you're not. I'm here and I'm safe."
"You don't understand." I said. "I'm not myself anymore."
"Everyone does," she said, squeezing my arm with her cold hand, "here and there."
"No," I shook my head. "I'm different."
There was a moment of silence before she attacked back saying, "You're just like them."
"Them?"
"Everyone," she said, slowly loosening her grip on mine. I heard her standing up from a chair she was sitting in and beginning to do something with the stuff she brought along. There were times when I heard a small jar made of glass bang against the top of a little table next to my bed. There was a quick sound of a zipper closing and footsteps going farther and farther away from me. My shoulders broadened after hearing every sound.
"I thought you were different," she said, opening the door. I relaxed my shoulders a little bit, not letting down my guard completely. But before she closed the door, she said in a high voice, "I'll come see you again soon!"
I never met a girl like her in my life. This is the first time a complete stranger came into my room in the middle of the night. She was unusual. She's different.
She's crazy, like me.
I heard the door open and the sound of heavy footsteps enter my room. I knew it wasn't an employee or the weird girl from a few days ago. I knew for sure it wasn't one of them when Kiyoteru spoke, "How are you?"
"Fine," I replied dully.
"Have you been getting into trouble recently?" he asked, already knowing the answer off the top of his head.
"What are you doing here?" I changed the topic, not wanting to answer.
"I'm here to bring you good news," he said. "For starters, your sales have been rising. You've been chosen as the- what in the world did you do to your hand?"
"My hand?" I questioned, looking confused as Kiyoteru grabbed my hand with his. I suddenly remembered what happened to it. He was talking about my nails. "Nothing," I said, thinking of the weird girl from last night, "go on."
He coughed a few times before continuing. "Well, for starters, your sales have gone up. You're one of the top selling authors as of this point, and it's still going up."
"Top?"
"Uh-huh."
"Did you just say what I think you did?"
"Are you starting to become deaf?" Kiyoteru chuckled, his hand placed firmly on my shoulder. I can tell he was smiling at me for our success. "Nice job. Your wish came true."
"What does the boss say?"
I felt Kiyoteru reach for a nearby chair and sat down. "He's happy for you. You're our company's biggest star as of now."
"He should be." I said grinning, unable to hold in the butterflies in my stomach. This is the first time I've been feeling like this since I've been hospitalized. I was so happy. I didn't feel like a freak anymore.
"I'm starting to think it's the weird titles that make you famous instead of the plot."
I laughed. "No, it's not."
"Does Bad Temper of the Loquat Sprouted on My Brow not sound weird to you?"
"A Clingy Boy Sticking for 15 Years doesn't sound weird at all."
"You know, your fans are in front of our building every single darn day just to try to find out more about you."
"My fans?"
"Your fans," said Kiyoteru, nodding, "they've been everywhere. They were on our website spamming with comments asking what your real name is, what you're doing, if you'll hold a fan meeting or not, and when you'll publish your next book. It's driving the staff crazy."
I smiled. I haven't smiled like this in a long time.
"But problem is, will you be able to keep writing?"
"What are you saying?" I started but stopped. I knew what he was trying to say.
It's my eyes. I still couldn't see.
Kiyoteru sighed once before standing up from his chair. "How do you deal with this every day?" he complained, making small sounds when he dug into his pocket for something. "I need a smoke."
"You're not supposed to smoke here."
He sighed again, muttering words I couldn't pick up. "Here, grab my hand. Let's go take a walk outside."
"Why are you so quiet?" a voice asked.
"Who's there?" I said, facing to the direction of the door.
"The most beautiful girl in the world," said a female voice.
I groaned because I knew who's voice that belonged to. "Get out." I said, shooing her away with the notepad in my hand. Its been five minutes since I came back after roaming around outside for fifteen minutes with Kiyoteru. He left me a notepad and a pen so I could try to write down ideas for my new book.
"What are you doing?" she said curiously, ignoring my request.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" I asked her.
"Writing," she answered.
"There's your answer."
"But you can't see."
I sighed. "I'm trying."
"Are you… attempting to write?" she asked, skipping over to my bed. I felt her cold wet hair brush against my face when she leaned over to take a look. Her hair smelled like cream puffs and it was wet so I concluded she must've came here after taking a shower. "Your handwriting looks funny."
"I bet it does," I admitted. "But I have to write before I forget."
I heard her laugh. "You have to see this! I can't even tell what you're trying to jot down!"
My teeth gritted on their own without me having to tell my cells to do it. "Did you forget what I told you before?"
"About me not coming to your room? I didn't," she answered. "Did you forget what I said?"
"I didn't," I answered, reminding myself that she said she would come back. I didn't think she took it seriously.
"Then we're even," she concluded.
"No," I said, "we're not."
"Want me to help?" she offered.
"No."
"You know, I seriously can't tell what you're trying to write. Japanese is my second language but I'm good at speaking and reading."
"I'm going to call-"
"What does that say? 'My… Bends… Iron'?"
"It's supposed to say, Via Stingrays, My Proposal Bends Iron," I corrected.
"Sounds weird to me," she said.
"Get out!" I exclaimed, my hand grabbing onto what it felt like her upper arm.
Instead of obeying, she laughed. "You remind me of Roro," she said.
I stopped struggling to push her away and glanced at what I thought was her face. "Roro?" I questioned.
"Roro," she said, "the author with the funny titles. I thought you knew Roro since Roro's kind of popular to the young readers."
"I've never heard of him," I lied.
"You're lying," she tsked at me. "Lying is bad."
"No," I gritted my teeth. "I'm not."
"But I heard you say 'Roro' once in your sleep," she argued.
Her statement surprised me. I blinked once before saying, "How do you know what I say in my sleep?" When she didn't reply, I thought for a few seconds before coming to a conclusion. I grimanced at her. "Have you been walking in and out of my room whenever I slept?"
"Sometime," she answered truthfully. I was dumbfounded when she didn't try to deny it.
"You're crazy," I breathed. "You're weird. I don't know whoever that Roro guy is."
"Roro's not a 'he,'" she said, but then stopped. "Actually, Roro can either be a he or a she. No one knows. It's not even his or her real name. It's a fake."
"…Why do you think Roro uses a pen name?" I asked, slowly letting go of her arm.
"To be honest, I don't know," she said. "I don't know much about her."
"Or him," I corrected.
I felt her nod when her long hair brushed against the tips of my hand.
It felt like millions of years past until I asked her, "Do you ever wonder what Roro's real name is?"
"Not really," she answered quickly. "But I guess I do want to know."
"Why don't you want to know?" I asked.
"I'm not really a big fan of reading," she admitted. After a while, she stunned me by asking, "Are you Roro?"
I blinked behind my bandage in surprise. "Why are you asking me that?"
"The title," she said, tapping on my notepad. "There are lots of characters. And it sounds kind of weird. It's like A Clingy Boy Sticking for 15 Years."
"A Clingy Boy Sticking for 15 Years doesn't sound that weird, does it?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. But it sounds normal compared to Bad Temper of the Loquat Sprouted on My Brow."
I chuckled. "You're right."
"Via Stingrays, My Proposal Bends Iron and A Clingy Boy Sticking for 15 Years," she said, resting her legs on top of mine. "Definitely sounds like what Roro would name her stories."
"Or him." I corrected.
"Whatever."
"I think," I said after a moment of silence, "why Roro doesn't want to reveal his or her name is probably because Roro doesn't want fame."
"Why wouldn't Roro want to be famous?" she snorted. "Everyone wants fame. Everyone wants to be loved by their fans."
"I'm not sure," I said. "If I was Roro, I might've wanted to remain hidden. It's better than being stalked by crazy fans."
She didn't respond quickly when I finished my sentence. After a while, she said, "I think differently."
When she said that, I thought I heard a bit of sadness in the tone of her mellow voice. It made me hesitant. I never heard her speak in a tone like that. Whenever I thought of her voice with that same melancholy tone, I tried to not think of about it. It made me feel feeble.
"How do you feel?" a voice belonging to a male asked.
I slowly opened my eyes and blinked a couple of times.
"Better?"
Without the bandages, I found out I could move my head more freely and with less weight.
"I can't see," I answered.
"Other than that, it seems you're getting better day by day," the doctor placed his cold hand on my forehead. "Not one sign of a problem."
"How much long do I need to stay?" I asked.
"We're still deciding. Why? Is there something going on?" he asked.
I swallowed my own saliva before deciding to answer, "Yes, I need to negotiate something at the company I work at. It's very urgent."
"Then I think you'll be satisfied with my answer," he said. I could sense him grinning in excitement as he was telling me the news. "You won't be staying here much longer."
I blinked again. "Really?"
"Yuuma," I heard the voice of the doctor call my name as he stood beside my bed. "I have some good news for you." I could feel the happiness in his voice when he waited for my response.
"What is it?"
"We were able to obtain a pair of eyes someone willingly donated. We can replace your eyes with those."
"So… I'll be able to see again?"
"It all goes well, then yes," he said. "You'll be able to see again."
"Are you serious?" I couldn't stop myself from acting like a child. I was smiling like a child receiving gifts from someone.
"Do you want me to schedule the surgery?" he asked happily.
"Yes," I answered, unable to hold in the excitement. "As soon as possible."
"Alright then, I'll go set up the next available slot."
"I can't believe it."
"You have to believe it," he said, standing up. "Everything will be alright."
The sound of his footsteps slowly faded and I had the room all to myself.
The first thing I did was smile. Just thinking about seeing again made me happy. It even made me laugh just by thinking about it! I'm laughing like a maniac as I did before, I was laughing because I'm happy! The old me was slowly starting to fade away and I felt a big burden being released.
"Why are you so happy?" came a female voice. I heard the sound of the door closing and tried to hide the smile when I heard her come closer to my bed.
"Nothing," I replied, failing to stop grinning.
"Liar," she said, knowing I wasn't telling the truth. "Something's going on. You're smiling." I felt her tugging on my sleeve as she continued to pout. "Tell me!"
"No."
"Tell me!" she demanded.
"I…" I felt my mouth curl even wider. "I'm going to get a surgery."
"What?" she said, disbelieved.
I laughed at her tone. "A surgery! If everything goes right, I'll be able to see again. Isn't that good news?"
"No," she said slowly. Her answer surprised me. Her reaction wasn't what I had expected.
I stopped smiling and frowned. "What's wrong? How come you're not happy? This is my chance. This is probably my last chance to regain my sight!"
"Don't," she said.
"I can-"
"If you do, I'll stop talking to you!" she shouted.
I stopped after hearing her responce loud and clear. "Why?" I demanded to know, not knowing why she was acting that way. Isn't she supposed to be happy for me?
"You'll end up like them."
"Them?" I asked. "Who?"
"Them," she answered again, in that same melancholy voice I despised the most.
"…I won't."
"Liar, everyone does."
It was either my eyes or the girl sitting next to me. I don't think I ever had a hard time choosing over something this difficult. But my first priority is my job. My future depended on it so I chose my eyes.
I never heard from her again, but even though I couldn't see, I knew she wasn't completely away. She didn't talk to me but she stayed by my side. She would secretly try to enter my room without trying to make any noise. I would play along with her game and pretend not to hear her if she made any noise. I could feel her gaze looking at me when I lie on my bed thinking of getting my sight back or the plot for my next book. If even though she refuses to talk, she still helps me. Once when I needed a glass of water, I felt something rest on the table beside the bed. When I reached for it out of curiosity, it was a cup of water that I needed. Just by feeling the warmth of the cup, I had a strong feeling it was her.
Even though there was a short distance between us, she wasn't completely away.
The door clicked open and I automatically faced the door even though I couldn't see. I heard a sound of someone laughing sweetly as a female said, "I'm not SeeU."
"See you?"
"SeeU," the voice said again, "the girl you always talk to. You didn't know?"
"Her name's SeeU?" I mumbled. "Sounds different. It's unique."
"Yes," she said. "She's actually from South Korea. I'm quite surprised you didn't already know. I thought you knew since you two are always together."
I myself found it surprising how we never exchanged names all these times when we talked. "Do you know where she is?"
I felt her eyes checking my broken eyes before responding, "SeeU won't be able to come see you today. She has a visitor."
"A visitor?"
"Yes, her mother came to visit her," she stopped. "You really didn't know?"
"No, I didn't."
She sighed. "Well, she's busy today. She won't be able to come see you today."
"I see," I clicked my tongue.
"You know, everyone in the hospital talks about you two a lot," she said. "You two changed a lot over the past few weeks. Ever since she met you, she stopped causing much trouble."
I raised my eyebrow in amusement. "Trouble?"
"Yes, trouble." I heard her chuckle at the memories. "She fools around playing her silly games. She always keeps us busy by "playing" hide-and-seek, and as a result, we always had to be watching her at all times. She acts like she owns the place."
"She still does," I grinned.
"Yes, that's true. But she doesn't act the way she did as much as before."
I laughed. "I can imagine her doing that."
"SeeU isn't a little girl anymore. If she continues to act like that, it will cause trouble," the nuse sighed. "I'm worried about her."
"…What exactly does she… do?"
"Well, she acts and do everything a four year old does. On her first day here, she painted her room using her small collection of nail polish."
"She painted her room?"
"Yes," I felt her sigh thinking of the tiring memory. "I remember this one time when she wanted to paint everyone's nails. She's still the same as before but she also changed at the same time. She was different. If you go to her room, her drawings are still there."
"I've never heard of anyone doing that."
"Yes. Now, I have a question for you," she stopped for a moment before continuing. "How did you manage to control her?"
"Me?" I snorted in disbelief. "Control her? I didn't do anything."
"No, you definately did do something," she said.
"Well," I stopped for a second to create an intense atmosphere. "I guess all I did was play along with her game."
"We did," she sighed. "The whole staff did, but our results weren't the same as yours."
"I don't know what I did to change her." I replied honestly. "I didn't even know she changed."
"She did. You know, I think she likes you," she said before I heard the door to my room open. "I sense she likes you very much."
"She likes me?"
"Oh," I thought I felt the nurse smile before closing the door behind her. "I almost forgot to tell you why I came here in the first place. I came to remind you that your surgery is tomorrow. Wait until you can see again. SeeU is a pretty girl. You'll see how much she changed."
In my dream, I was in a world filled with colorful illusions. Everywhere I looked, I saw colors everywhere. It was beautiful. I was in paradise. But when I heard an unusual sound come out of nowhere, my paradise suddenly started to become blurry and quickly fall apart into a million little pieces like a puzzle. I started panicking when I saw the darkness swallowing the fascinating colors until I opened my eyes breathing heavily in and out. Even though everything I saw was pitch black, I sensed it was the middle of the night. I heard the door click again and footsteps coming closer but I pretended not to notice. I didn't bother turning my head.
"Are you awake?" a mature voice whispered to me.
I knew that voice right away. "SeeU?" I called.
I heard her light footsteps approaching closer with every step she took but stopped when I called her name.
"How did you know?" she questioned wryly. "I never told you my name."
"You're late." I said, ignoring her question. "I thought you had to visitor today?"
She didn't reply. She didn't speak a single word as I felt her lifting her small body up onto my bed. I felt my pulse tightened when I felt her warm body lay next to mine.
"What are you-"
"Can I stay here for a while?" she asked.
The tone of her voice stopped me. It wasn't the sadness of her voice that stunned me. It was the way she said it. It was different. She said it. She said it using the voice of a child afraid of the dark.
"Of course," I quietly murmured when I finally managed to break free from her words.
"What's you're name?" she questioned. "It's not fair if you know mine but I don't know yours."
I told her my name to make things even. It was silent between us for a long time until I felt her hug something very tightly. My head was set on my pillow so I guessed she brought hers on her way here.
I decided to break the ice between us by saying, "Where's your mother?"
"How did you know?" she asked. I felt her hair softly hitting the side of my face when she turned her head to face me.
I shrugged. "Where is she?"
"She left," she said. "She's gone."
"Are you happy she came see you?"
"Mommy told me she's sorry. She told me to be a good girl until daddy comes."
"Why is she sorry?"
"Because of what she did," she softly replied. "Because of what I had to do for her."
"Are you going to stay as a good girl?"
"I am. I'm going to be a good girl for daddy."
"Are you sure? Are you going to roam around causing trouble for everyone?"
"I'm not!" she yelled. She stopped for a moment to listen if anyone heard her before going on, "I'm going to show daddy I'm a good girl."
"You know, I had an interesting conversation with someone yesterday. I spoke to a nurse. She said you used to be a trouble maker." I said, snickering. "Just what exactly did you do to make them say that?"
"Nothing," she answered.
"Liar," I felt myself smile. "Does painting a room or playing hide-and-seek sound familiar to you?"
"Yes, it does."
"If you keep doing that, no one will believe you're a good girl."
"They will," she said abruptly. "Daddy thinks I'm a good girl. That's why he bought me my nail polish collection."
"Well, even so, you should stop bothering the nurses. They need to focus on their work. I don't know what's going on in your head, but-"
"Suicide," she blurted.
I stopped for a short second surprised that I had been cut off from my sentence. It took me another second to realize what she said. "What?"
"Suicide," she said again, slower. "Before you came, it was my third attempt."
I felt my pulse beat slower and my breathing coming to a stop.
"It ended as my third failed attempt of committing suicide," she said. "I always end up failing."
I looked at her sideways but all I could see was darkness. I couldn't believe what she said just now. Just the thought of it made me frightened and bewildered.
"Mommy and daddy divorced when I was little," she continued. "Daddy moved far away to get a better job. I lived with my mommy since I was little. Daddy told me he'll come get me once he gets a good job, and he did."
"And your mother came to-"
"-say goodbye. She's an alcoholic. She always was."
"Your father never forgot about you," I sighed. "He constantly thinks about his daughters' wellness. He's a good dad."
"He is," she replied. "That's why I'm going to be a good girl."
"When is he coming to get you?" I asked. "Does he know about your... actions?"
"I don't know," she breathed slowly and nudged my arm with hers. "That's the problem. He's busy working, and I don't know when he'll come get me."
There was something about the way she spoke that made me feel unbearably sad. There was something I felt like I should know but I couldn't quite reach for the answer. "If you want te reunite with your dad, you shouldn't be thinking of suicide," I said.
"I'm not," she replied. "I paint because it helps me think of something else. The games are to distract me."
"Oh…."
"Yuuma," she said before things began to turn awkward between us. "How do you live like this?"
"What do you mean?"
"In the dark. You can't see the stuff I can. Aren't you afraid of the darkness?"
"The darkness?" I chuckled. "I used to, but now I'm used to it. Are you?" I questioned.
"…Sometime."
"Are you scared now? Why don't you go back? I'm sure the lights in the hallways are on all night. You can sit there until you feel better."
"No," I felt her grab onto the sleeve of my gown and tug it. "You're with me now, so I'm not scared."
I couldn't help but chuckle again when I heard her responce. "You're not afraid of the dark," I said. "That means you're afraid of being alone."
"Do you have to get the surgery?" she asked. The way she said it scared me. I felt my body starting to shiver not because of what she said, but how she said it. Not even a little sound of hope filled her voice.
"I…"
"Do you?" she asked again.
"I do," I whispered. "I have to. My future depends on the surgery."
"But you'll end up like them."
I sighed. "You know, I've been wondering for a long time, who exactly are them?"
"Everyone," she answered, whimpering.
"So you're saying I'm not one of them right now. How does the surgery make me become them?"
"It happens," she said, snuggling to the middle of the bed for heat. "It happens to everyone."
I was about to say something but stopped when I heard her breathing pattern change. It changed from time to time. I couldn't sleep with a girl sleeping next to me, especially when a girl weeps in her sleep. I ended up patting her hair as my way of soothing her. The next thing I knew, it was morning and the doctors were in my room telling me it was time. When I reached my hand to wake SeeU, she wasn't there. Her share of the bed was cold. I concluded she left in the middle of the night.
The nurses came to roll my bed to the surgery room. In the halls, I remember feeling drowsy and my body slowly starting to shut down. I didn't know if she was following me either, but if I remember correctly, I remember saying, "Thank you for being by my side."
.
.
.
The operation was a success.
My eyes still needed time to heal so I stayed with the bandages for a few more days. When it was finally time to untie the messy bandages around my eyes, I was nervous. Light stabbed through my eyelids, the color of the sunlight. I gagged and opened my eyes. There I saw various doctors and nurses standing besides my bed smiling proudly of me and their hard work. I blinked for a few times thinking the blackness would come back but it didn't. I saw the whole area around me in full color.
The sudden rays of the sunlights blinded me that I had to look down for a few seconds, and when I did, I noticed my nails. My usual paint-free nails were covered in colorful colors. It was covered in the color of a rainbow.
It's colored in red, orange, yellow, light green, green, sky blue, blue, navy, purple, and my right pinkie was filled in with the color pink.
If people noticed, they would have thought of it as childish. It was a mere childish act. Even I thought of it as naïve, but I found myself amused. I knew it was SeeU who did this. She must have painted them whenever she snuck into my room or while I was unconscious after the surgery.
"SeeU did it," said a nurse. When I raised my head to look at her, she was looking at me with a smile. "She was always next to you while you were resting."
I looked around and saw many employees standing around my bed, awaiting to hear my response. It was when I smiled they knew it had worked and started congratulating me for the success. Doctors and nurses smiled happily to one another as I studied my room. There were so many people in white gowns and pink uniforms that I thought every employee must be in my room. Everyone was here but not her.
SeeU wasn't here to congratulate me.
Part of me knew she wouldn't come. After all, she said so herself she wouldn't talk to me if I passed. I looked around the room ignoring the comments people remarked. It bored me when I saw the walls and the door were painted in white. It only took a second for me to recognize something unfamiliar on the door. There, painted in the color of a red rose, was a simple drawing of a small heart. No one would have drawn on the walls except her. I knew it was SeeU who drew it without a single doubt. It's just a single red heart, but it's enough to bring a smile to my face. The heart gave me many feelings. I closed my eyes and thought hard. When I did, I suddenly thought of something. The first thing I did is free myself out of my bed and struggle to gain my balance.
"Yuuma," the doctor grabbed my arm to steady me. My arm became stiff after feeling his grasp on mine. It made me feel uncomfortable. "You still need to rest. Your eyes are still in the process of recovering."
"I have to go see someone."
"See?"
"SeeU. I need to talk to her."
That was all it took for him to release his hand from my arm. I was finally freed. My legs weren't as strong as before. After lying in bed all those weeks, I felt some parts of my body not functioning the way it was supposed to work. Even so, it was enough for me to walk.
I had two chances. The first place I went was her room. I had to look closely at the name tags posted next to the door to find her name. When I found it, I opened the door. She wasn't there. If her name wasn't posted next to the door, I immediately would've known the room belonged to her. The walls are splashed in various colors. She painted the walls of her room with her small collection of nail polish. There's a bright yellow sun displayed on one of the upper corner of her room and animals drawn in different colors. Plants were placed just above the messy mold of green she used as grass. There were even people drawn in messy little stick figures. One of them was me. I knew it was me when I saw the color of my pink hair. Even I couldn't help but smile when I viewed it. Just looking at her art made you feel loved.
SeeU wasn't in her room. That meant she's in one place I could think of; the roof.
I climbed up all kinds of stairs and saw everything when I made my journey. I opened the door to the roof and saw her sitting on one corner of the roof, sitting like an elegant cat. There's no mistake it's SeeU.
"SeeU," it was my first time seeing her with my own eyes while saying her name. I saw her long blonde hair blow gently along the direction the wind blew. It was those locks of hair that always brushed against my pale face whenever she turned her head. She sat on the corner looking below her. I know she heard me but she chose not to reply.
"SeeU," I called again, taking a step forward.
I took my time taking one step at a time closer to her until she amazed me by turning around. She's thin and frail. She looked like she was going to fall if any force went toward her direction. I noticed there are several small cuts and scars in her arms. Some were small, some were tall as a nail polish. I noticed her eyes. They're so piercing. It resembled the color of the sky above us.
"Step away from there," I warned with a low smile. "We're on the top floor."
"I know," she says, not sounding afraid. She took this conversation very seriously.
"If you fall, you die."
"I know," she answered.
Her figure deeply resembled of a cat.
"Come here," I said with my arms spread. "It's dangerous."
"I don't want to," she replied with a frown.
"Who am I going to play with?" I asked her. "Who am I going to play with while I still recover? Who's going to help Roro with his next big project?"
"You're Roro?" she asked, eyes narrowing. "I knew it!" she muttered. I couldn't help but laugh. "You can ask someone else," she said, feeling angered at my laugh. "There's lots of them."
"But they're not you," I said, grinning. "I want to share my love with you."
"You can love anyone," she said with a spat, turning away with a huff.
"I want you to play with me," I continued, not giving up. "No matter how many times we play, I'll always find you. You don't have to hide anymore. Don't make people happy by hiding. You can make me feel joy by not hiding yourself. You can be a good girl by being next to me."
I knew I had her right on target. I knew I was right when she bit her bottom lip, trying not to tremble and lose her footing. When I took a few steps closer, she obeyed and slowly reached for me using her pale arms. Without another word, she leaped into my arms, making us both fall on the ground of cement. Her soft hair tickled against my face as my back felt pain after landing on the hard floor.
"Are you alright?" she asked. Her words soon dissolved into a fit of coughing.
"My back hurts," I answered, laughing as I patted her back. "You are a very complicated girl."
"It's your fault," she playfully squeezed my cheeks. "You told me to come to you."
"Yes, I did." I grinned. "And now my back hurts. I think I need a helper to help me write my next book."
"A helper?" she questioned, looking confused yet excited.
I found her curiosity to be interesting. She expressed immense emotions that I found exciting to observe. She made me feel something I thought I never could. I love the way she laughed at my responce. It's fresh, exciting, and it made us both feel loved.
Perhaps, the accident was never meant to be a curse. It could have been a gift.
Before I forget, the title of Yuuma's stories are the title of Ieno Urade Manbouga Shinderu-P's works.
Also, Vocaloid does not belong to me. SeeU goes to SBS Artech and VY2 goes to Bplats.
I was watching Euro 2012 and MLB while typing this on my laptop. It worked out really well~ :D
Anyway, how was it? What did you think? How long has it been since I last published something? A little over a month? I have a new story almost planned out so be sure to expect an update soon!
Review please~ ^^