This is way too long to post in Operation: LIFE, so I decided to make it its own oneshot. But I hate it a lot. Read it if you feel like wasting time. Otherwise, just bypass this. I tried to make it funny. But of course I couldn't. Darn. I so was wasting time writing this. And made it soooo overrated. God.
Title: Happy Endings
Inspiration: Read "Love Is Hell". One story stuck out to me: Fan Fictions. Ironic, isn't it? Except I twisted so far away from it.
Dedication: Been awhile. But this is for foxtrotelly and I've Perfected Imperfection, for wasting their time on a contest that no one even entered. Don't mean to be harsh, but the truth is harsh. Hrm.
Spotlight: Misaki and Tsubasa
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Romance
Harada Misaki stared at her locker.
The sticky-notes covered the door once more, so many she couldn't count, in so many different colors. Horrible sentences adorned the rainbow landscape. The more she read, the more she clenched her fists and the redder her face became out of anger. Even the simplest phrases like "Go to hell", "Die, you slut", "That's why no one loves you" pierced her soul.
The little rats just walked by, too. Some looked, some snickered, but all kept that same now, who could have done that? innocent look. It pissed her off.
They all pissed her off.
In a mad frenzy she tore the stick notes off her locker and threw them on the floor. She opened her locker, threw her books inside, and pulled out a notebook, slamming her locker shut and storming up the hall.
It was lunchtime, but food was the farthest thing from Misaki's mind.
She put her hand on the cool handle of the library door and pushed it open, where a rush of cool air greeted her. She breathed in deeply and sighed. At least there was one place where she could find solace.
Luckily the librarian—the loud, busty one—was out, probably going to get a mocha and gossip with the office ladies. There was only the old, quiet one, who nodded politely when she passed the desk. She nodded back. She rather liked her and preferred her to—
"Oh, it's you again!"
—the annoying one.
"Please unhand me immediately," she said in a deadly tone as the librarian embraced her, practically shoving her face into her chest.
The librarian giggled and let her go, pinching her cheek, and Misaki resisted an urge to punch her across the face. "You're so cute," she giggled. "It's charming." Then her face changed as she registered her expression. "Did you get those notes on your locker again?"
"What's it to you?" she asked rudely, not intending to, but she couldn't help it. It was none of her business anyways.
"Oh, sweetie." The librarian drew her into a much gentler embrace this time, but the pink-haired girl still cringed anyways. "They're just jealous of you because you're so pretty. And kind. And intelligent and strong. You don't deserve this kind of treatment." Misaki bit her lip.
But the fact is, I do.
"Mmm-hmm." She hoped that the librarian couldn't hear the fact that she was trying to work past the lump in her throat in her voice and she wiggled out of her hug and practically flew to the bookshelves while the librarian looked on worriedly.
Fiction. She had always particularly liked fiction, mainly because it was so different and so much better than a normal life. In fiction, the impossible happened. In fiction, no matter what happened, there would always be a happy ending.
Unlike her life.
Even as she skimmed the books, tapping one finger against the tops, trying to drown out her mind with the titles, she could still hear their voices.
"Slut! You slept with my boyfriend!"
Misaki turned around.
"What do you mean, I slept with your boyfriend?" She stared the girl down unnervingly, not one bit frightened.
"At that party yesterday. Don't think I didn't see you, whore!"
Her heart skipped a beat. So something did happen.
"I don't remember anything," she said, sounding slightly defensive.
"That's 'cause you were so drunk you couldn't even stand upright," one of her friends sneered.
"I saw her, too!" another girl piped up.
She clenched her fists. "Shut up! What do you know, scumbag!" she said harshly.
"More than a slut does," the boy's girlfriend said smugly, approaching her with one fist up. "More than a slut does."
The next day it was all over the school. Even some of the teachers knew about it. She knew, from the way they looked at her and wore nervous expressions when forced to speak with her.
In truth she sort of remembered it too. Almost. She remembered dancing with the guy...then she had a drink in her hand...the next thing she knew she was giggling and walking up the stairs...
And that night her innocence was robbed and she went from being the cute new girl to the slut of the school.
Tears were falling out of her eyes before she could stop them. Misaki hadn't been much of a crier, and she had vowed not to cry to satisfy the jerks who tormented her. She rubbed her eyes and sniffed quietly so she wouldn't attract attention, pulling a slim, slick black book off of the shelf and rushing to a table where she sat with the book over her head while she sobbed.
"Mind if I sit here?"
She was about to look up when she reminded herself that her eyes were probably swollen and lips bruised from crying so much, so she simply nodded and kept quiet.
"Thanks." It was a guy, from the sound of it. He dropped his books down on the table. "Fifth period's a bitch. The damn teacher gave me all of these books and it's only my first day here." He looked at her. "Hey, is something wrong?"
"I'm fine." Inside, though, her heart skipped a beat. A new guy? That meant he knew nothing about her. Then maybe she could befriend him. That's what she'd wanted this whole time—a friend. Someone to talk to. Someone who wouldn't judge her just because of her past.
She sat up and looked away for a minute, then looked back. He was pretty cute. Handsome was more like it. He was wearing the uniform for the middle school Alice Academy kids, so he must have been around her age. His face was intent as he read a text book balanced against his knee with three more in tow, a pen sticking out of his mouth.
"Dammit." He tossed the book on top of the pile and scowled. "I hate math. How are they expecting me to do this when they didn't tell me anything worth a pile of shit?" He looked at her and his face changed, breaking out in a smile. "Hey, could you help me?"
"Err, sure." Was this guy stupid or something? The way he looked at her...she felt a sense of familiarity even though she only knew him for maybe five minutes. "What do you need help with?"
"Uhhh..." The guy gestured to the notebooks around himself. "Everything?"
She laughed and gently hit him on the head with her book, then said, "You're really idiotic, you know that? I don't even know you. You're going to miss the rest of your classes."
"Good point." The guy looked thoughtful, then extended a hand. "Andou Tsubasa."
Misaki stared at his hand like it was a particularly vile insect before she slowly put her hand in his. "Harada Misaki," she answered slowly.
"Great. Now we know each other." He brightened. "So can you help me now?"
That day in the library was the most fun she'd had in weeks.
"We heard that you skipped class to hang out with that new kid Andou in the library. So, did you screw him too?"
Misaki didn't turn around from her locker. "Bug off," she simply replied.
"I guess that's a yes." The girls' leader laughed, then screamed in shock as Misaki suddenly turned around and slugged her across the cheek.
"If I recall correctly, 'bug off' implies, 'leave me alone'," Misaki snarled, then closed her locker and walked up the hall as the rest of the girls gaped at her.
"Slut! Whore!" the girls' leader screamed after her. "Andou's not right for someone like you. You'll just screw him over too!"
Misaki turned around and glared at her.
"...So you multiply this and this, and you carry that over there and divide it..."
Tsubasa furrowed his brow in frustration. "Forget it. You're a first-class genius. I don't get one bit of this."
Misaki rolled her eyes. "It's hard anyway. And I'm not a genius."
"You've been tutoring me for a week."
And luckily in that week you heard nothing, she thought. She said out loud, "It takes awhile to understand it. If you try to force yourself to learn it, you won't. You have to pace yourself—"
"Look, it's the slut and the new kid macking it up!"
Misaki froze on the spot. She didn't dare to lift her head, but she did anyways, very slowly.
There was a clique of boys and girls—the girls from earlier and their boyfriends, apparently. Misaki closed her eyes and cursed under her breath.
"Misaki, who the hell are they?" Tsubasa asked, but Misaki didn't hear him. All she heard was, Andou's not right for someone like you. You'll just screw him over too!
That girl was right. She was about to screw him over. Badly.
Where oh where was that loud librarian when you needed her?
"Already on a first name basis, eh?" the girl she had punched before (who, Misaki was pleased to see, had a nice blooming purple and blue mark on her cheek) sneered. "Although it's not that surprising. Sluts don't care what you call 'em, just as long as they're getting their action."
"What are they talking about?" Tsubasa looked at Misaki. "Why are they calling you a slut?"
Misaki took a deep breath. "That doesn't matter," she whispered. "What matters is what I'm about to tell you."
Tsubasa didn't reply, only listened intently.
"When you see an opportunity, you're going to run for the door like there's no tomorrow," she continued. "I don't want you getting involved in this."
"What're you gonna do?"
"Hold them off, of course!" she said. "It's my fault anyway."
"Wait—"
"Just do it!" Misaki gave him a steely glare and stood, strolling over to the group of kids.
"What?" she said cooly, knowing full well Tsubasa was watching. "Brought your group of peons to help fight your battle? How charming."
One of the guys looked pissed. He grabbed her by the front of her shirt. "What did you say, you whore?"
Misaki took another deep breath. This was going to hurt so bad.
"But dear, why did you provoke them?"
Misaki jerked away from the nurse and held her wrist to her mouth. "They started it," she snarled.
"Let me bandage you, at least," the nurse begged, and Misaki pitied her and dropped her arm. "Your friend, is he all right at least?"
Misaki didn't reply.
"Misaki, dear?"
"It's my fault," she said in a shaky voice.
"What?"
Misaki jerked away from the nurse and ran.
"Misaki!"
It wasn't like she'd expected a happy ending or anything.
Or maybe she did. Like in those fiction books she loved to read, where, even when things were so bad you couldn't see how it would get better, it did. Because things had been looking better for her when he came and talked to her. He didn't care that she...he didn't...
He knew. He'd told her.
"Let me go!" Misaki kicked the guy in the stomach as hard as she could manage, and he doubled over in pain, gasping for air.
Eight against one was a hard battle to fight. But she'd manage, just like she always did.
She brought two of the girls down in an instant. They couldn't fight for their lives.
As they fell she swung her elbow around and jabbed one of the guys in the chin while striking out at another girl in her shin. But she miscaculated, and didn't see one of the guys sneaking up on her.
"Misaki, watch out!"
She whirled around and yelled, "I thought I told you to run—" just as a girl leapt for her and Tsubasa tackled her, knocking her down.
It was then, and only then, that she saw the guy with the knife, because the knife wasn't going into her.
It was going into Tsubasa.
He toppled on top of her, and the group backed up. "Shit, man, you stabbed him!" one of the guys yelled, knocking Knife Boy upside the head.
"Run for it, dude!" They all ran out.
"You idiot!" she yelled at Tsubasa, feeling tears brim over her eyes. "That's why I told you not to get involved!" The blood was sticky and warm on her hands, and she tried to ignore it.
Tsubasa smiled a weak smile. "Better to have lived then to have never lived at all, huh?"
"No!" Misaki shook her head hard. "I'll go get the nurse!" She stood to run but Tsubasa grabbed her leg.
"Wait," he rasped. "Let me tell you something first."
She waited.
"I know why they were calling you a slut."
Misaki tried not to gape when she said, "Then why do you hang out with me? Why don't you just avoid me like everyone else!" She looked away.
"I was the guy at the party."
He smiled; Misaki stared with her mouth wide open.
"Then that means you were..." Misaki's brain registered the sound of an ambulance, and before she knew it, the library was crowded with people. Two guys lifted Tsubasa up and put him on a stretcher.
"Wait!" Misaki fought against the sudden crowd. "I need to talk to him! Don't—"
And that was that.
"I need to go to Ando Tsubasa's room," Misaki said, leaning over the counter.
The nurse scribbled a number on a visitor's pass. "Room 183," she said, popping her gum loudly, then tut-tutting. "Poor kid, so young."
"W-what do you mean?" Misaki demanded, her voice shaking.
"He was having a rough time when he came in earlier. They had to do an operation on the wound."
Misaki felt faint. "H-how is he now?"
"The worst of it's passed. Recovery'll be slow though." The nurse eyed her. "You his girlfriend or something?"
"No." Misaki turned and rushed to the elevator, grimacing at the sound of the gum popping reverberating in her ears.
She wasn't sure she wanted to go in once she stood in front of the door marked 183, but she took a calming breath and opened the door.
It was the classical scene: all she heard was a steady beep-beep-beep from the heart monitor and the room was entirely white. Blindingly white, maybe.
What was different was who was in the bed. Unlike in the movies, this was someone she actually cared about.
She forced herself to step into the room, and she glanced over at the bed. He wasn't awake, which was a good thing, and he was still alive. Which was even better. But she didn't know what to do anymore.
Misaki still couldn't believe he was the guy at that party. Which meant that he was that girl's boyfriend. Which meant that he should have been going to her school. But if he was, then how come she hadn't recognized him?
Well, she had been really drunk at the time, she reminded herself grudgingly as she took a seat at the stool near the top of the bed.
"You gonna give me some answers?" she murmured to Tsubasa. "Are you?"
Silence.
"Figures," she muttered just as Tsubasa groaned and sat up.
"My side hurts like hell," he said, wincing, then laying back down. Misaki's heart fluttered. "What the hell did they effing do to me?"
"An operation." Misaki rolled her eyes in spite of the fact that she was really happy to see him conscious. "You needed it."
"Right, right."
They were silent for a few minutes. Then Tsubasa sighed loudly.
"I know you probably want some answers," he said. "So ask away. I know you're probably wondering why you never remembered me."
He must have been a mind reader of some sort.
"I was never that girl's boyfriend. I even went to a different school than she did. She just thought that I was her 'property' because we knew each other for a long time. Which is why I danced with you. I was trying to get away from her. But things got out of control, and she was like a leech. If I had've known that it would cause you this much hell than I wouldn't have, though." Tsubasa looked away.
"What, has this become some Dr. Phil session or something?" Misaki sighed. "I don't care about them. I don't care if they all get hit by eighteen-wheelers."
"So you're saying...what?" Tsubasa raised an eyebrow. "You're glad it was me and not someone else?"
Misaki turned red and shrieked, "No! I'm just saying...at least it wasn't some random guy I'd never even like or meet again, then I'd really be a slut!" Then she looked down and murmured, "Well...maybe I am glad it was you..."
Tsubasa grinned a wide grin and laughed, and Misaki decided that maybe she would have a happy ending like in those books.
My hand and mind went out of control. Waywayway out of control.
This was gonna be some short fluffy crap, but then I started to "think outside the box", making the plot deeper...and deeper...
And basically came out with this. Though it is extremely poor and OOC. My real work is definitely better.
But yeah. An extension from the dedication...
It was actually depressing when we realized we had no contestants. It took us a good long while to secure all of the details, and we were excited at the thought of doing this. But alas, no more. And don't pity us. Really. There'll be a next time and another next time, so just don't. I don't want to be mean, but I'm not feeling very sunshine-y either. Pfft. Why am I saying this HERE?
Anyways, I know this sucks and I thoroughly hate it. But if you read it anyways, don't do a fave-and-run. Honestly, I don't know why people do that. What's the point of favoriting if you're not gonna review? Even if it's just a simple "I like it", "I hate it"? I don't mean to be rude, but seriously.
Trying to work up happiness... :(
Anyways, thanks for reading.
~Ariisha-chan