Disclaimer: I neither own the characters nor the song, and as sad as this makes me, I'm not making any money from this. This is merely something to do while ff.net's on untouchable mode.
Warnings: Hmm…uhm…angst (?), I guess.
Notes: I'm supposed to be studying Meiosis/Mitosis right now (god, I hate Cytology! And Histology…and Math…and…ehehehehe) but I copied the lyrics to this cool song by Switchfoot, which I swear had been released before, I just don't know where I heard it. If I'm not mistaken, it's from a movie, I just can't remember which (although I have this really crazy feeling it's from "Babe: Pig In The City" ^_^;) uhm…anyway, as I was saying…I copied this earlier and it kept on pulling me with invisible fingers, urging me to write another one of my lame stories, centered on—surprise, surprise—Nuriko. I dunno, when I read it, I just kinda related it to him (then again, I relate EVERYTHING to him, so…heh.)
Hookay…long author's note there…well, here it is…
Let That Be Enough
I wish I had what I needed, to be on my own
'Cause I feel so defeated and I'm feeling alone
Bright purple eyes glowed in the dark. Ryuuen lifted one hand to wipe at the shiny substance trailing down his cheeks. With shaking, pallid hands, he held a picture in front of him. Running his fingers along the surface of the old photo, he traced the smiling eyes, the laughing mouth, the long flowing hair, and the cheek of the portrait. His eyes trailed over along the slightly crumpled and torn margin, and then to the picture's background. The scenery was of a well-decorated room, filled with wooden furnishings and antiques. Lastly, his eyes went back to the face. Forever trapped in a hauntingly adorable expression, amber eyes that seemed to mock him with its happiness as it stared back, unblinking.
A face long lost, but whose memory refused to fade away with time.
And it all seems so helpless and I have no plans
I'm a plane in the sunset, with nowhere to land
He stuffed one hand in his coat pocket and arranged his pack with the other. Around him, students flocked the school grounds, laughing amongst themselves, successfully ignoring the lone figure walking down the stairs, head bent and purple hair masking the lonely face.
It was graduation day and everyone was so happy. Everyone but him. While all his classmates have their parents cheering them on for all their efforts, he had no one. While everyone had friends with whom they can enjoy their victory with, the end of high school, he had no one.
Everyone was happy, but he knows he'll come home to an empty house anyway, with no parents to congratulate him, no friends to share his happiness with. So why bother?
And all I see it could never make me happy
And all my sand castles spend their time collapsingHe slowly opened the door to a place that would shame a graveyard in its silence. "Tadaima…"
No one. Like he expected.
Walking in, he lowered his bag on the couch and trudged across the room to a row of picture frames on the fireplace. Each one showcased a different person, but all of them had one common denominator. Every single picture had the person's face contorted in a parody of an expression he had long left behind—a smile.
The bastards.
It's my birthday tomorrow, no one here could know
I was born on this Thursday, twenty-two years ago
He opened his eyes, staring at his reflection. Many years have passed, things changed. He's got a great job now, designing buildings as an architect. Now people looked up to him and gave him praises for his work. Life could be so perfect sometimes.
So why can't his be?
After a while longer of staring, he bent down and splashed his face with water. He may seem different now, with his long hair that reached down to his back, his face lost of all its youthfulness in exchange for the hard exterior of a man. Even the air around him seemed to have changed. Now he walks with an air of confidence compared to his shy, quiet aura back when he was young. But he didn't change, not really. He's still the same young boy who didn't have true friends.
He's still alone.
Heaving a sigh, he walked over to the towel rack and snatched one from the pole. He went out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, walking over to the bed. He sat down and stared at the calendar hanging on the wall across from him.
March 9, 2002.
There'll be no parties like what his colleagues would have on their birthdays. Because there'll be no visitors. No one would come.
He'll have no visitors.
And I feel stuck watching history repeat me
Yeah, who am I? Just a kid who knows he's needy
Squeezing his eyes shut to keep the tears from falling, he leaned back and fell into bed. To an onlooker, he looked like any other person trying to fight an ensuing headache. But no one would see the turmoil and sadness that kept on persisting from underneath his eyelids.
When everything else was gone, the fame, the money, the success, there was a little boy. He was scrawny, with large eyes, short messy hair, wearing clothes that looked two sizes bigger, and looked remarkably similar to the man who had his eyes closed trying to dredge up unwanted memories. It all looked strange and different, but despite the tremendous distinction, one thing's still the same. It had been there before and it was here now.
The eyes. Haunted with past tragedies that never seemed to go away.
Let me know that you love me
He was young again and was standing in the middle of a room. He was staring on one side, calling after a retreating back.
Let me know your touch
Noticing that his calls seemed to be ignored, he called out more, louder this time. The person stopped, but still remained with his back to him. He reached out as he saw the person's hand going for the knob, as if trying to make the person stay.
Let me know that you love me
The portal opened slowly and a gust of wind swept through the room, ruffling his hair as it passed. The person turned slowly, brown hair flying across his face. And then, like the sunrise, the corners of his mouth lifted, revealing a row of shining white teeth, brightening the room in its wake. Beautiful amber eyes were focused on him before the person turned around and closed the door behind him.
And let that be enough
Ryuuen opened his eyes, back to his present reality. He remembered the smile and those warm golden eyes. And he, too, began to smile.
*I wanted this to be more accurate so I tried to look for a year where March 10 (Nuriko's b-day) would actually be on a Thursday, but the next one would be on 2005 (I'm graduating March 2005!) so I tried to go back, but I found out that there was none! Well, actually, there was, but that was back in 1994 and if I'm not mistaken, Fushigi Yuugi wasn't released then, yet (feel free to tell me so if I'm wrong). It was supposed to be on 2000, but what with the whole leap year and all…it was on a Friday that year. So…yeah…
AN: Actually, while I was halfway through, I thought of making this a sidestory to "In Dreams" with regards to the latest happenings. But, I dunno, I liked this one better.
For those who didn't quite grasp what the hell I wrote about, let's just say Ryuuen had reached closure at the end. Oh, and those with thick skulls who didn't figure out who the brown-haired, amber-eyed guy in the picture and with the room—it's Sai, duh?