Cry No More
by Orchid(http://www.shoujopop.net/blog). Plagiarism is not appreciated, and
any seen will be reported to servers etc.
Authors Note-Haruka and Michiru are a shoujo-ai couple, in case you didn't already know ^_-.
I had fun with this, as it's my usual writing style, with drama etc.
Michiru carefully put away her dishes. It was sad, bieng all alone in
this huge house. She could hear her own heart beating, it was so quiet.
She sighed and put away the last dish. The cukoo clock in the hall chimed
3:00 in the afternoon. Michiru closed the cabinet and walked into the hall.
The marble glistened in the afternoon sunlight, a soft misty sheen covering
the floor like a mist. Her high heels clicked on the floor with assurance, the
kind that comes from an assured woman striding without any thought or
care, the bitter irony. She went over to a photo on the cabinet outside her
room. It was of two beautiful women, one with wavy aquamarine hair and
another with short blonde hair. They were smiling happily, sitting atop a
race car. One could tell the couple's happiness by the expressions of
carefully shown love. A tear dropped from Michiru's face onto the
photograph. She gently turned the picture over so that the only thing
visible was the cheap carboard backing. She went into her room. There
was a small vanity desk, with a couple hundred colors of lipstick sitting
neatly on it. She sat on the edge of the brass four poster bed, whose
sheets were a warm rosy hue. The mansion was empty she thought. It's
beauty, wasted, without another to enjoy it with. She clenched her fists. It
was unfair, she thought, that her pure love that had been alive for so long
to be wronged like that. She wanted to kill herself. She wanted to die.
She wanted to take the pain of Ruka's leaving away. She wanted to happily
go into a shop and choose a few CDs of classical music. She wanted to
laugh happily while riding on the back of Ruka's bike. She wanted her past.
She wept, salty, bloody, tears rolling down her face, which was
unadorned with make up, and showed lines of deep sorrow. Her pain had
made her old. Her pain had ruined her. She could make no music, she
could make no food, she couldn't take care of herself. Not like this. Not
like this. "Come back, come back..." she hicupped into her tear stained
hands. Her chest heaved with racks of coughing. She was sick. She was in
need of proper doctoral care. She didn't care. She tore at her hair, and let
the age of sorrow sink into her face. She looked twenty years older than
she was. She didn't have anyone to care about it, so why should she try to
erase her feelings she thought. The only thing that would heal her, the one
thing that she longed for, was her other half. She wanted nothing else.
Nothing more, nothing less. She moaned in pain. Her heart was really
breaking, she thought. I'm really going to die.
The sound of a piano bieng played softly reached Michiru's ears. She
woke up, rubbing her blood shot eyes. She didn't know how long it had
taken her to cry herself to sleep. She had stopped tracking after a month.
She moved her still beautiful body towards the door. She wasn't walking,
she wasn't crawling. She was doing something in between. She made her
way to the piano room, where she and her other half had enjoyed morning
sunlight and dawn with the sound of the wind. She listened halfly to her
memories, and halfly to the sound of the wind-like piano playing. The piece
is sad, she thought. It sounds like me, broken and weary of life, she
thought. She came to the door of the studio. The ornate, rusty bronze door
handle clicked as she turned the handle. She opened the door. Sun light
filled the dusty room, the presence of spirits and memories filtered to
pureness. The ghost at the piano was a whisp of this light, in the
semblance of her lover, the semblance of her sorrows. Michiru rushed to
the bench, and collapsed upon the shadow, silencing the music. Michiru
glanced up at the light, and reached upwards, in the last gesture of end she
could muster. "Michiru, what are you doing?" a whispery voice asked from
the doorway. Michiru turned her head. This is a dream, she thought.
"Michiru, I couldn't do anything without you. Racing, it had no spirit,
without you, it wasn't anything." Haruka said, walking towards Michiru. She
sat down on the bench next to the ghost of Michiru, and began to play a
song. Michiru stood, her face melting away to become the goddess of
Neptune once more. And she sang. She sang of her last months of
torment, she sang of her hatred, she sang of her reunion, and then she fell.
She fell upon Haruka's lap, and breathed in the scent of her beloved once
more. "I'll never leave you again." Haruka promised, looking directly at
Michiru. Michiru smiled. "I won't let you ever leave me again." she
whispered, as she fell into a healing sleep. Haruka picked Michiru up and
brought her to her room, where she put her down to rest. Michiru's breaths
were soft, and rythmic, and her face that of happiness embodied as a
mortal. She could cry no more.
by Orchid(http://www.shoujopop.net/blog). Plagiarism is not appreciated, and
any seen will be reported to servers etc.
Authors Note-Haruka and Michiru are a shoujo-ai couple, in case you didn't already know ^_-.
I had fun with this, as it's my usual writing style, with drama etc.
Michiru carefully put away her dishes. It was sad, bieng all alone in
this huge house. She could hear her own heart beating, it was so quiet.
She sighed and put away the last dish. The cukoo clock in the hall chimed
3:00 in the afternoon. Michiru closed the cabinet and walked into the hall.
The marble glistened in the afternoon sunlight, a soft misty sheen covering
the floor like a mist. Her high heels clicked on the floor with assurance, the
kind that comes from an assured woman striding without any thought or
care, the bitter irony. She went over to a photo on the cabinet outside her
room. It was of two beautiful women, one with wavy aquamarine hair and
another with short blonde hair. They were smiling happily, sitting atop a
race car. One could tell the couple's happiness by the expressions of
carefully shown love. A tear dropped from Michiru's face onto the
photograph. She gently turned the picture over so that the only thing
visible was the cheap carboard backing. She went into her room. There
was a small vanity desk, with a couple hundred colors of lipstick sitting
neatly on it. She sat on the edge of the brass four poster bed, whose
sheets were a warm rosy hue. The mansion was empty she thought. It's
beauty, wasted, without another to enjoy it with. She clenched her fists. It
was unfair, she thought, that her pure love that had been alive for so long
to be wronged like that. She wanted to kill herself. She wanted to die.
She wanted to take the pain of Ruka's leaving away. She wanted to happily
go into a shop and choose a few CDs of classical music. She wanted to
laugh happily while riding on the back of Ruka's bike. She wanted her past.
She wept, salty, bloody, tears rolling down her face, which was
unadorned with make up, and showed lines of deep sorrow. Her pain had
made her old. Her pain had ruined her. She could make no music, she
could make no food, she couldn't take care of herself. Not like this. Not
like this. "Come back, come back..." she hicupped into her tear stained
hands. Her chest heaved with racks of coughing. She was sick. She was in
need of proper doctoral care. She didn't care. She tore at her hair, and let
the age of sorrow sink into her face. She looked twenty years older than
she was. She didn't have anyone to care about it, so why should she try to
erase her feelings she thought. The only thing that would heal her, the one
thing that she longed for, was her other half. She wanted nothing else.
Nothing more, nothing less. She moaned in pain. Her heart was really
breaking, she thought. I'm really going to die.
The sound of a piano bieng played softly reached Michiru's ears. She
woke up, rubbing her blood shot eyes. She didn't know how long it had
taken her to cry herself to sleep. She had stopped tracking after a month.
She moved her still beautiful body towards the door. She wasn't walking,
she wasn't crawling. She was doing something in between. She made her
way to the piano room, where she and her other half had enjoyed morning
sunlight and dawn with the sound of the wind. She listened halfly to her
memories, and halfly to the sound of the wind-like piano playing. The piece
is sad, she thought. It sounds like me, broken and weary of life, she
thought. She came to the door of the studio. The ornate, rusty bronze door
handle clicked as she turned the handle. She opened the door. Sun light
filled the dusty room, the presence of spirits and memories filtered to
pureness. The ghost at the piano was a whisp of this light, in the
semblance of her lover, the semblance of her sorrows. Michiru rushed to
the bench, and collapsed upon the shadow, silencing the music. Michiru
glanced up at the light, and reached upwards, in the last gesture of end she
could muster. "Michiru, what are you doing?" a whispery voice asked from
the doorway. Michiru turned her head. This is a dream, she thought.
"Michiru, I couldn't do anything without you. Racing, it had no spirit,
without you, it wasn't anything." Haruka said, walking towards Michiru. She
sat down on the bench next to the ghost of Michiru, and began to play a
song. Michiru stood, her face melting away to become the goddess of
Neptune once more. And she sang. She sang of her last months of
torment, she sang of her hatred, she sang of her reunion, and then she fell.
She fell upon Haruka's lap, and breathed in the scent of her beloved once
more. "I'll never leave you again." Haruka promised, looking directly at
Michiru. Michiru smiled. "I won't let you ever leave me again." she
whispered, as she fell into a healing sleep. Haruka picked Michiru up and
brought her to her room, where she put her down to rest. Michiru's breaths
were soft, and rythmic, and her face that of happiness embodied as a
mortal. She could cry no more.