AN: Hey guys. This was a project I started a while ago but never really finished. It's another multi-chapter fic! I thought if I at least published the first chapter it would motivate me to work on it more. Don't worry though (or maybe worry if you like it?), How Do You Spell Love and Betting on Love are still my priority to finish! I would also just like to give a really big thank you to all my wonderful and super kind reviewers! I'm sorry to give you such an angst piece as your Christmas gift XD! Have a good New Years!
Based on the song "Flower Letter" by Park Hyo Shin from the Iljimae OST
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A Flower's Letter: Letter One, First of Many
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Dear Satoshi,
I kept going back and forth on how I should address you, to be honest. It's only the first two words of this letter and I'm already second guessing everything. I used to find it so embarrassing to call you by your first name. You were always "Isshiki" to me and I was "Kinokuni-kun" to you. So when you started to casually call me by my first name, I became so flustered over how easily you can overcome the norm. For the longest time, I thought it was because you never really seemed to care about those normals or social rules; you always did things on your own accord. But then I realized, it wasn't because of that, but because you didn't see me as the daughter of a Kinokuni but rather as myself. Maybe I'm overstepping but even after everything, I still wish to see you that way as well; as an individual I still love with all my heart.
This all feels so cheesy; maybe after all those years together, your sentimentalism began to rub off on me. But for once, I want to be honest with how I feel because I realized I don't have much time to push it off anymore.
My mother was the one who suggested that I should write to someone, like as some sort of therapeutic coping mechanism, I guess. But I don't think she realized that I don't have many people to write to. To be honest, I was so sure it was a stupid idea, especially writing to you. But now, I'm not so sure of anything anymore — I'm lost. So I guess what I'm trying to say is, maybe writing to you can give some sort of direction or assurance; you always seemed good at doing that without even trying. Sounds selfish right? But as much as I want you to hear my honesty, I want myself to realize it even more so.
Sorry for talking so much about myself. How are you doing? Is your family and the restaurant well? I heard your brother got engaged recently, please send my congratulations to him. I also heard you got another invitation to the BLUE, and that you refused again. I know you don't really care for competitions like that, but you have so much talent that I feel the world should see it. Talent that I envied so much; talent that I admired so much as well.
For as blunt and cold in manner that I usually am, I'm skirting around the real issue, aren't I? Even as I declare how I'm going to be truthful with myself I still choose to be a coward, huh?
I'll just say it then. I really hated you for a long time after we broke up. I still don't really understand what happened between us or how it happened, but whatever it was it hurt for a long time to remember it. Maybe I shouldn't be bringing up the past, but I still stand by what I said. It's fine if you still don't believe me or that you never will, but I want you to know that as much as that whole, messy ordeal affected you, it affected me just as hard. It hurt to know that you couldn't trust me when I expressed to you how I felt, and for the longest time I could only feel contempt for you and our memories together because of that.
I thought I had all the time in the world to hate you, but it turns out I really don't. As much as I hated you and wanted to blame you for everything, I realized that our history together — the way you made me feel — wasn't something I could cast out and forget because it was too important to me. I'm tired of feeling bitter towards what happened and sincerely, I just really want to see you again.
I'm not sure what in my mind makes me think that you'll read this since all other forms of communication between us seemed to have ceased. You of all people should know I never believed in "hoping"; it relied too much on luck and fate. But maybe for once, I'll hope that we can meet again.
Sincerely,
Nene