[I made this for two reasons; One, because there are too few tragedy stories in this archive. Two, because the screen on my apple iPad shattered and Ringo is Japanese for Apple so…..I also wrote it to a song called "You Said You'd Grow Old With Me". Anyways, I own nothing and I hope you enjoy. Good day and God bless.]
Once, Ryuya Hyuga was a younger man, an idol himself. Those days of gold and silver he remembered vividly like every time he recollected them, he experienced them once again.
Sometimes, he'd remember one seemingly irrelevant conversation he had with his friend, Ringo Tsukimiya, word for word.
Ringo was talking as he usually loved doing, about how he loved the profession of being an idol and never regretted becoming one. He talked about how he didn't understand why many idols feared aging when he, of all people, embraced it.
He thought that if he remained talented and kept himself away from bad press, even in his old years, people would still like him. They would respect him for nostalgia but spoof him playfully, also. The filmmakers would even let him cameo in their movies so that they could attract a wider audience.
But one of the major blessings of being older, he thought, was that all the bothersome trends he, as an idol, tried so hard to keep up with wouldn't matter and he would be free to dress and look as he wanted.
Hyuga remembered how happy he looked when he said that. He knew his friend was truly looking forward to that time that most celebrities dreaded with their entire being.
It was an unusual, refreshing perspective. One filled with hope and joy, some of the best qualities an idol could have.
Ringo had always been quite special in that way.
Many years had passed since then. The years had been cruel and kind to them in many ways. They had changed in many ways but Ringo never lost that perspective.
They were retired now, but not quite at the stage Ringo had looked forward to. They were teachers at a school for aspiring musicians owned by an old idol by the name of Shining Saotome.
Things were different but good. It was a happy medium in the middle of the school year when the tragedies and hardships Hyuga had experienced were a distant memory. His heart, for the first time in a long time, felt light.
But after all these years, he should have known better.
It was his own fault for not taking up that piece of wisdom that it was at these times when one lays one's heart bare to bask in the sunlight that the cruel world lashes out.
Its at times of peace like these that tragedy strikes.
The students of Saotome academy didn't think much when Ringo Tsukimiya was late for the class he taught.
Perhaps his wig was messed up. Perhaps he was doing his make up. Perhaps he couldn't find a dress cute enough for a lovely monday morning in September like this one. They could think of a number of reasons their feminine teacher was late.
They were positive he'd come into the classroom, his high heels clicking as he walked in and greeted them warmly as he usually did.
Five minutes turned to ten minutes.
Some of the students were angry, saying that Ringo had always been a bad teacher and that his absence today only proved that fact.
Some were happy, saying that they would gladly skip this class today.
The rest, such as Haruka Nanami and all her friends, felt confusion and overall impatience because they knew Ringo Tsukimiya was never late for his class.
Ten minutes turned a solid thirty minutes and it was only then that the students impatience turned into worry.
Haruka, for reasons she couldn't quite pinpoint, felt the most wretched chill run up her spine. She knew this feeling to be fear but why was she afraid? Why did she feel something horrible was about to happen?
Ren and Masato, almost as though they had sensed her fear, were the ones to rise from their seats and leave the classroom.
Not seeing any reason to panic and look for Ringo themselves, they went straight to Ryuya Hyuga, who sat in his office enjoying a fresh cup of coffee. It was just an average monday morning for him and he would never and could never expected something like this to happen.
They asked him if Ringo was ill or taking a break because he was not showing up for class.
Hyuga was noticeably confused. He was quick to inform the students that Ringo was neither sick nor taking a break and that he had no idea why he was absent.
He told them that Ringo's class was skipped for that day, that they should go to the next class as usual and he would assess whatever held their teacher and his old friend up.
He had to tell them to go to the next class twice, even threatening them with some form of punishment before they finally left. They were worried, probably for Haruka's sake. He knew this and he also knew that it was probably nothing.
Ringo had probably slept in or something. He ignored his gut feeling and convinced himself that was all.
He headed down the many halls, going from room to room, the entire journey a blur of similar memories having made this journey many times before.
The first thing he noticed as he approached the hideously pink door of his friends room was that no one was in this hallway.
No one, that is, except one student.
The young man had greasy black hair slicked back like a shiny helmet on his head. His skin was pasty white and he he appeared to have been frightened recently, his eyes fixed almost obsessively upon the pink door.
Had Ringo been talking to this young man? Was that why he was late?
He thought he was a student as he was wearing a uniform. Hyuga thought it odd that he could genuinely never remember seeing him before and he normally never forgot a face, particularly one with such cold and piercing blue eyes that met his for just one mere second before, moving as quick as lightning, the student rushed forward and ran passed Hyuga.
In a blink of an eye, the student rushed down the hall and disappeared but not before Hyuga caught sight of the faintest silver glimmer under his sleeve like that of sunlight reflecting off metal.
When Hyuga was alone in the hallway, he suddenly got chills like a winter wind blew in.
The student was long gone and the second thing he realized was that everything was quiet, almost a little too quiet.
He brushed the odd encounter off like a child, hoping yet again that nothing had gone wrong.
Hyuga continued with his original objective and approached the door.
That's when it happened. His heart nearly skipped a beat when he realized the door was open. Not very far, just enough to let a draft in.
The door was open. Why?
A sudden surge of adrenaline he was quite familiar with caused the man to suddenly, without warning, rush through the door.
The room was dark. None of the lights had yet to have been turned on. The white curtains fluttered in the wind as the window was open.
Hyuga searched the room.
Lamps and vases were broken, shattered on the ground, things he knew Ringo treasured greatly. The covers on the bed were torn, the mirror in pieces upon the bathroom floor.
Hyuga grew fearful.
In all this mess, he couldn't seem to find Ringo anywhere.
What exactly had happened here?
Suddenly, a raspy strained sound like that of a strangled breath broke through his thoughts like a knife through butter.
His heart nearly stopped when he caught sight of where the sound had come from.
Ringo.
He was there.
The body of his familiar old friend on his stomach, clinging to the carpet like it were his lifeline, like if he let go, he might fall into some neverending abyss and see the last of the light of day.
Hyuga, the man himself frozen in pure shock and horror, hoped, pleaded that those hideous red stains upon his vision were just frills for a new dress and the blood red roses blooming upon his friend's back and shoulder were just new decorations he had picked up at some store.
In that moment, he would have given anything for that wish to become reality, anything to save him from what he saw before him because he could not go through this again.
Ringo gasped for breath, making mere stains and puddles of syrup like blood upon his carpet. His sky blue eyes were wide with horror and panic. He could hardly breath, his body going into shock.
Weak, vulnerable, begging for someone to help.
It looked so wrong.
That colour was never someone kind hearted like Ringo Tsukimiya should never be painted with such a horribly familiar colour.
And with that final thought, he emptied his mind of all he knew and rushed to his friends side immediately.
Shallow breath.
Fading pulse.
Two gaping wound.
Too much blood.
Cold hands clinging to a treasured life.
He felt like a feeble child being able to do nothing more than hold his friend's hand and put pressure on the wounds so, like a mere child, he begged.
Please don't die.
Please don't take him, to.
Just minutes after the call, the hysterical sires and red and blue flashing lights of ambulances and police cars pulled in front of the famed academy, disturbing the normally quiet life of the students and teachers alike.
It was Syo who ran out to the officers and medics, asking them what exactly had happened to bring them here.
They told him that there was an accident and that he should stand back.
Tokiya, Haruka, Otoya and Natsuki soon followed the shortest of the group, looking frightening and confused by both of the new arrivals only to be horrified beyond measure when their friend, teacher and a famed celebrity throughout Japan, Ringo Tsukimiya, was carted out of the academy building on a stretcher.
At first glance, his blood stained appearance was almost unrecognizable to most but Haruka knew it was him.
Two medics pushed the stretcher along with Ryuya Hyuga running along beside them, holding his friend's hand, saying his friends name, asking, begging, pleading for him to stay with them for one second longer.
The students and teachers just stared on in shock as the man, in perfect health just yesterday, was pushed into the back of an ambulance.
Only Hyuga was allowed in as the ambulance took off, leaving only police officers and horrified students on school grounds.
Syo threw up. He knew an accident but he also knew stab wounds when he saw them. No matter how hard or long he stretched his imagination, he could not comprehend what could compel a person to hurt someone like Ringo.
Ren didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. For the first time in a long time, he was left completely speechless.
Natsuki didn't understand. His childish mind could hardly comprehend something so horrible.
Masato took it the best. Masato had enough understanding that horrific accidents like this happened and would happen but it would never lessen the blow.
Tokiya, normally the most cold of them all, was frantic. Shining would not see anyone that day but Tokiya would not leave his office door, asking again and again for the man to open the door and tell him what happened.
Otoya was on the verge of a panic attack. The familiar feelings of fear and grief gripped his heart yet again and he did not think he could bare sitting in a hospital again, waiting anxiously, just hoping a treasured person would recover.
Haruka wanted to cry. She did but it was like the sight of the blood cut all the connections she had with her feelings and she fell into a numb trance, the ringing in her ears, blocking out the words of her friends.
The only person Haruka let comfort her was Tomochika, who held her close the rest of the day.
The entire country fell into shock that day.
What had happened and the details of the event were broadcasted on live television.
The famed idol, Ringo Tsukimiya hand been found in his room suffering from two stab wounds in his upper back. The culprit was still unknown to the police but the police and hospital had been informed by the famed idol and Mr. Tsukimiya's old friend, Ryuya Hyuga, who was currently being questioned by the police.
It was only logic that he would also be a potential culprit but the mere fact that he was being questioned about potentially murdering his old friend made his blood absolutely boil in his veins.
Luckily, Shining Saotome got him out of the situation by dismissing the police's suspicions with Ren's, Masato's and his own account of how Hyuga had been in his office the entire day.
They let him go after that but Hyuga was still so angry, just not at anyone in particular.
The subject was trending on every social media.
Hundreds, thousands, millions of fans, even millions who were not fans were all gathering in horror, seeking comfort and fellowship in the matter as each and every one of them hoped and prayed that their favorite idol would be okay.
They were not even concerned with revenge, with catching the person who did it. Every one of them was united in genuine fear, pure love and the hope that the man would be alright.
There was fund raising, hundreds of prayer groups from almost every known religion and people from all around holding candles in the streets in front of the hospital.
It was all they could do; Hope and pray.
Ringo, now in critical condition, now lay in the hands of doctors, the only people who had any chance of saving him.
They were good doctors, the cities finest in fact. Shining Saotome payed for the whole thing and Hyuga would have wanted no less than the best to save his friends life.
The knife had been rusty but these doctors could handle that.
Ringo had lost far too much blood too quickly but surely they handle that.
The wound nearly went all the way through but surely there was enough time and, with enough effort, Ringo would be alright.
Soon, a few weeks from now, everything would be as it was and Ringo would be complaining about the scars and how, though easily covered up, were still so ugly.
He would come to class again, complain about awful students again, tease Hyuga again, compliment Haruka and her friends again, talk about old times, spend way too much money on girls clothes again, come to Hyuga's movie premiers again and laugh at anything corny, perfume his room with far too much lavender again, be a good friend again and be Ringo Tsukimiya, the person so many people knew and treasured once more.
He would never completely, mentally or physically but it would be enough.
Surely it would be enough.
Just being Ringo, just being okay and there would be infinitely better than the deathly pale and unresponsive porcelain doll that lay unresponsive in that hospital bed on the other side of the window, unable to hear all the kind and wonderful things every one of his fans thought about him.
Hyuga forced himself to be hopeful and blinded himself to the fact that he had done the same thing before, waiting for a dear friend to come safely out of the hospital doors.
He was a fake. He was not as strong as people like Syo might think.
When it happened the first time, Hyuga was broken. He had no idea what to do with himself. The last person he expected was the person to be there, to be his friend and help get him through that rough time. That same person who he would forever be grateful to was now in that hospital bed, the only assurance he had that he was still alive the unsteady beeping of a heart monitor.
He never told him how grateful he was, did he?
Did Ringo know?
Did he know how loved he was throughout the entire country?
Had they all realized too late?
Funny how it's only when someone is gone for good that anyone dares to show how much they cared.
Funny indeed.
He knew this and he was probably the only person in the entire country who knew this.
He was probably the only person who could have prepared himself.
He was the only one.
And yet he still fell to his knees when that familiar melody filled his ears.
A familiar melody, a poorly composed song made from an electronic instrument.
A bland song composed only of one high pitched note.
A terrible and infamous song known simply as a flatline.
A simple song that told of a person the world had lost and the failures of those who should have protected that person from what or who had stolen them. It was a song of guilt, misery and anger. It was a song that would haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life.
Ringo Tsukimiya was gone forever.
Hyuga did not, could not, would not register this one simple fact.
When the surgeons hands stopped moving so fast, when they put the blanket over his friends face and when the heart monitor was turned off, all he could think was this;
Why?
Why aren't they helping him?
They were supposed to save him so why were they leaving?
Why did this happen to someone like him?
Why wasn't I there to stop it?
Why am I always too late?
So many questions and the only person who could even hope to provide answers was asleep now, forever.
Forever.
He'd never hear his voice, he would never see his face, he would never smell a suffocating amount of lavender perfume every time he walked into a room, he'd never feel understood by a dear friend, he would never taste the selfish and ignorant peace he found in recent years ever again.
Without all those things he had taken for granted before, it was like his five senses had been stolen and all that was left was a standstill in his being as cold as ice.
Cold as that icey pair of eyes that met his for one brief second back when Hyuga used to feel something.
He felt nothing when he searched.
He felt nothing when he found a lead.
He felt nothing when he hunted that notorious gang member and the rest of his crew down like a bloodhound.
He felt nothing when he called the police and he felt even less when he beat each and everyone of the half to death before the police arrived.
It was their own fault for taking even minutes to arrive. If they had just been a bit faster, maybe Ringo would have still been alive to scold him endlessly for hunting a group of dangerous men down in the dead of night.
Though the incident got him in a bit of trouble with the police, it got him nothing but popularity and respect with both his fans and Ringo's alike but he couldn't care less.
Doing what he did felt like an obligation. It gave him no happiness because the person he did it for was gone.
That was it, the end of the tale, the end of a person who had so much left to live for, a life cut short, a life taken far too soon.
The life of a person named Ringo Tsukimiya, someone who would forever be missed.
Three weeks passed like every day was a bland repeat of the one that came before and Hyuga hadn't even begun to mourn.
He started drinking again, even though it was Ringo who convinced him to stop.
Nothing had changed. It was like he was stuck in that hospital room forever.
A part of him died there. He knew that.
Everyone knew that. Everyone could see it and yet they could do nothing.
Despite being the same age Hyuga always thought it would be Ringo who would attend his funeral and never the other way around.
It was a sunday afternoon.
It was a good service, one a person like Ringo deserved.
Everyone from the academy was there.
Everyone from Quartet Night and Heavens was there.
Shining Saotome wore a black suit. He spoke very rarely and in a mild tone. Without his smile and boisterous tone, he was practically unrecognizable. Hyuga could say that he had never seen Saotome cry until that day.
Raging Heavens was there, even. He was not there to pick a fight with his oldest rival or cause trouble. He simply wished to see the funeral of a famed musician and pay his respects.
Oddly enough, Hyuga's siblings came. Yamato said that he 'Was sorry for his loss' and Hyuga was amazed. That was the most his younger brother had said to him in years.
Nanami Haruka was there. Hyuga didn't think it possible but somehow she appeared to be in a worse state than him. He embraced her tightly, for a rather long while. He wasn't entirely sure if it was for her or himself but she appeared to appreciate the action.
She handed Hyuga a folder and said that it was a song she composed for Ringo and she hoped it was good enough.
He may have teared up just looking at it and told her it was more than enough.
All her friends were there, even Tokiya Ichinose. None of them cried except this one dark skinned boy he had never seen before in unusual clothes.
The dark skinned boy said something about "May the muses give you a safe journey to peace" to the casket and went back to Haruka.
It was unusual, but somehow he understood.
When it came time for Hyuga to say his final goodbyes to his dear friend, he didn't say anything.
All he thought of was how idols were bright like stars but they were just mere flames. They were small, weak and a passing breeze could easily snuff them out.
He thought about how it was an idol's job to ride trends and the latest fashions to success but society was cruel. They would never recognize how hard it was for Ringo to get to this point and his memory would fade from their minds.
Hyuga remembered, now.
It was because of that forgetfulness, that need society had to throw away broken toys that he quit being an idol to begin with.
And looking upon the pale and colourless face of his dear friend as he lay like he were sleeping in a pillow of flowers, it was only then that Hyuga recollected that conversation he had with his friend many years ago.
Upon recollecting every word like he were reciting the words of one of his old songs, he began to weep bitterly.
Ringo Tsukimiya truly died too soon.
[#THISSTORYISTERRIBLE. You don't understand, I really liked my Ipad. Please don't hate me.]