Mossmask: Mossy here! Well, I wrote this thing a lil' while back, over the winter break, but didn't post it for various reasons. One being it won't make sense to a lot of people. This is set in the past of one of my characters from a role play (on MSN, but there's also a group for it on dA). And although I'm sure at least a few of you would recognize the character here, every fan has their own backstory for him, really. So yeah, even though you aren't likely to understand what's going on, the story itself should still at least have some merit.
So, I decided to put this up because 1, I'm taking so long between updates on Kaos (I've just started the next chapter guys... it's my aim to get it up within the month. I am SO sorry, I just have an impossible time writing lately). The second reason is, anyone who's read it has commented on the fact that there's some really strong emotion. That makes it a one of a kind fic for me, because as those of you who know me may probably know by now, emotion isn't one of my strong points, especially when it comes to writing it.

So please, comment and tell me what you think. As well, ask me if there's anything you want me to explain about this, for those of you who are actually interested in knowing the story behind this. (If you want a less abridged form, you should ask me on dA, where I'm MossmaskXRainwhisker.)

~Cya on the other side~

The inside of the bar was silent for the most part. The only two sounds that broke the quiet were the steady hum of machinery that every kitchen has, and slow, steady breathing coming from the tiny green shape curled up tightly in the corner of one of the booths.

Soon though, the steady breathing was broken by choking gasps, and the rattling of quills together as the hedgehog began to shiver. The hedgehog himself was wide awake, as he had been for the most part of the night, but he still refused to uncurl himself, and instead huddled defiantly into the back of the booth. He didn't want to wake up, to have to do anything.

He didn't want to acknowledge the fact that he was here at all, and the only way to make sure of that was if he never opened his eyes to see it. He had good days (or at least as good as they could get), and he had bad days, but today was definitely turning out to be a bad day. When he hadn't even gotten up yet and he was already feeling sick and suffocated, then he knew there was little chance of things getting any better.

Being alone was the one thing the hedgehog hated more than anything else, even though it was something he'd been his entire life. But never... never like this. He'd been hated and ridiculed in the past, but never so completely isolated. It had been nearly three years at this point since he'd seen another living soul, and it was just... too much for him. But... there was nothing he could do about it, either.

He used to wake himself up crying some nights, which had surprised him the first time. He hadn't cried before, not from anything besides physical pain. He'd scared himself the first time he woke up that way. But then he got used to it. It just became routine. When he'd finally stopped, just about a year ago, two years in, he'd been as surprised as when he'd started.

He felt like crying again now, thinking about it, but that wasn't a surprise to him at all. He felt that way nearly nonstop now, but the difference was that no matter how painful it got, he could never let it out. He started choking again, without even realizing at first. But after the first breath caught, he just couldn't get it back. He folded his ears back and shut his eyes as he struggled to breathe, already realizing he had no hope of falling asleep again, but still only shutting his eyes tighter.

After nearly falling off the bench he was on, he had grabbed onto the edge of the table of the booth and braced himself there, still not completely calm yet. He took a few more slow breaths, trying to make sure he was alright again, before slowly letting his ears back up. His trembling arms dropped back down to his side and he slowly looked up. Pale blue eyes moved slowly across the entire room, though they hardly seemed to take anything in.

And why should they? He'd already long ago memorized every detail of the small room. The entire island, it seemed, was already forever etched into his mind, each tiny detail of it, off by heart. He never truly took anything in any more, he never really looked at everything. He could have probably gone through his entire day without even opening his eyes, and it wouldn't have made a difference.

But that was everything to him. No matter what he did, it wouldn't make a difference. Whether he bothered to get up everyday or just stayed where ever he'd slept without moving once until night fell again (which was the more common of the two), he doubted it had any impact on anything, or anyone, anywhere. If he'd thought he was completely irrelevant before, well now it was certain.

He doubted anyone besides Sonic Team even knew he was alive. But even they couldn't know that for sure. There had been more than one case where that almost hadn't been true, and if he had died, any of those times, they wouldn't have known. Even less so cared.

There are different types of loneliness. There is the immeasurable feeling of loss, when you lose someone or something extremely close to you. That leaves you with a gap that can never be filled, but also with a memory. Of something you might never again experience, yes, but still the memory of having had it. But then there is just plain nothingness. There's a feeling beyond loss, one of complete emptiness.

And that's what he had to go through, day in and day out. No pain, he never felt the pain of losing someone. But he never had any fond memories to look back on either. He just had nothing. He had never had anyone, he had never lost anything, and he had never been anything to anyone.

And maybe most people in a situation like that would be harsh because of it, maybe they'd be angry. Not him. All he'd ever wanted, and still, was for someone, anyone, just one person, to appreciate him. Or even just one thing about him, something he'd done, anything. Heck, he'd even settle for someone to hate him at this point, he didn't care anymore, he just needed... something, at least!

But no... even when he thought he'd had nothing, he had been proven wrong. Somehow, the life he'd had before, when he thought he'd had as little as one could have, someone found away to leave him with even less. And once that was taken away, he realized he'd had everything. Or at least everything he could ever want right now. But it was too late to go back, and now he was stuck here, alone, for who knew how long.

The hedgehog let out a quick yip or surprise when his knees banged the floor, and he suddenly found himself down on the ground. He hadn't even noticed it happen, but that's what he got for not paying attention. He winced as he felt his bad leg twist the wrong way, and let himself fall all the way down onto his knees, bracing his hands against the wooden floor.

...After a moment, the hedgehog finally looked up again, and saw that he was a few feet away from the door. He cursed himself silently. He remembered how he used to be, running through the forest, hiding in the trees, and, even allowing himself a small smile, tossing himself wholeheartedly off of sheer cliffs straight into the ocean. True, most of the time he was running from someone or something, whom he'd incented into chasing him in the first place, but back then it had all been a game to him.

And look at him now. He was collapsing before he'd even made it to the front door. And he was hardly alert. What happened to the paranoid little hedgehog who was always on edge, ears pricked and eyes wide? Nowadays it seemed he was never fully aware of what was going on. But he had nothing to be alert for, so... no worries... right? Always lost in though... something he never used to do... it couldn't be good for him.

He crossed his eyes slightly, a tiny bit of his old self starting to show through, as he pushed himself up to his feet again, shaky at first, but quickly catching his balance. This time, as he leaned forward, braced against the door, he tried to force himself to think of something he would do today. Nothing big, nothing important, but just enough to keep him going. So maybe he couldn't run like he used to, maybe he wasn't strong enough to hold himself up in the water anymore, but there were certainly some things he could do. Didn't matter it they accomplished anything. As long as they kept him from thinking, that would be enough.

He slowly nodded to himself, trying to think. It felt like pushing through overly clichéd molasses, just trying to get anything useful out of that mind of his. It seemed all it was good for was moping, and trying to think of something to do was getting harder every time he tried. He was still a little terrified that one day he'd freeze up all together, and just... not... function. He was only scared because of how quickly he was already losing it, he knew it was a completely real possibility.

Like now, for example. What ever happened of thinking of something to do? He quickly tried to refocus himself, folding both ears down flat, scared that he'd gotten so distracted. He'd just completely zoned out again. Also something he was doing more and more frequently, which he really did not want to do.

He tried to breath a bit slower, and stared out the window, trying to find something to look at, just to focus on, just to keep his mind steady. That alone was impossible. No matter what he saw, his mind couldn't pick anything out. He couldn't just distinctify any one object from another, and look at it. Quickly loosing his resolve, he began panicking, again. He struggled to catch his breath, making it even harder to just focus on something.

Finally, giving up, he fell back down again, sliding against the door, until he was able to curl up on the floor and bury his face in his hands, heart racing as he still struggled to breath. Was it really that bad? Was it really that hard for him just to try and think? How far gone was he really? And how much... how much did he even care?

That was when he felt something really break inside of him, and it suddenly got a lot harder to breath. And at that point, he couldn't find it in him to keep trying. He wasn't sure what it had been, but it was something important. One of the things that had kept him going, and now he'd lost it for good. That was what that realization had done to him. Why was he trying to hold on at all? He had always been so determined, so strong ,in everything he'd done. No matter what happened, it had never gotten him down. Somehow, even up to this point, he'd been able to hold strong, to keep going, but... why?

Why did he even bother? He knew he was going to lose it eventually. He knew he couldn't keep holding on to whatever it was he had forever, so why was he making himself go through this in the first place? Why was he doing this to himself? The longer he tried to stay where he was... the more it would hurt him, in the end. All he was doing was hurting himself now.

Once again, the hedgehog felt the overwhelming need to just break down and cry. And once more, he was completely unable to. Regardless of what he told himself, all... all he really wanted was to give up. He just wanted to cry, and to have someone to comfort him.

But he'd been alone for as long as he'd been alive. Maybe not isolated, but alone nonetheless. And so he had never been able to give up, he had never been able to give in. And now that there really was no reason for him to continue anymore, he wasn't letting himself break down. That was the one thing he wanted to do, but he just couldn't let himself. And he hated himself for it, yes, but... it still didn't change the fact that he was forcing himself to push through, like he always did.

Even though in the end it was all going nowhere. He couldn't help but wonder just how long he would do this to himself, make himself endure this. Surely he couldn't hold on forever, though he was sure that was how long it would last. He knew it'd break him eventually, and now all there was for him to do was sit back and wonder how long it would take.

The small green body against the door suddenly shuddered violently, before sitting completely still, for just a moment. Finally, he looked up again, this time staring at the first thing he saw, the counter of the bar across from where he sat. He stayed there a few moments, just staring at the bar and letting his eyes take in every detail, grinning the faintest bit, as if this was some sort of victory over himself.

He was proving that he could do it. His eyes were sharp, they didn't miss anything. Once he was done inspecting the bar, he closed them again and sat back for a moment, as if revelling in his victory, before quickly pushing himself upright again. He wobbled slightly, yes, but he didn't brace against the door this time. He caught his balance on his own, and turned to face the outside once more.

He let his icy blue eyes, now intense and nearly unrecognizable from the dull, pale, and blind ones before, quickly take in every detail of the outside, before a firm resolve settled deeply into them. He'd decided what he was going to do today, and simple as that, he stepped out the front door, letting it shut behind him with a quiet click. His ears pricked at the sound, taking it in it's subtlety, before turning and walking down towards the beach.

The beach he'd first set foot upon this island. His beach. And regardless of the hedgehog's lopsided gait, brought on by an obvious heavy limp, he didn't falter. And in every step, however pained, that same resolve was visible. He'd caught himself breaking down. He'd been doing that a lot lately. But he didn't care. That was behind him now. He was back to himself, and he didn't need to worry or think about what he'd felt before. That was gone now, that wasn't him. He needed to be reminded of who he was, and he knew how to do it. The same way he always did.

And somewhere inside, he knew it wouldn't work forever. That the anxiety attacks, the depression, everything, that sooner or later, that would be him. But for now it wasn't, and he didn't care how much pain he caused himself, but he wouldn't just let himself give up like that. Because he knew who he was, and that wasn't something he was willing to just let go of, no matter how hard it got at times.

As the hedgehog finally reached the beach, he silently cursed himself once more. He had planned on remaining alert, as he once was. Not a detail could get by him unnoticed. Because where he was from, it was often his own life that depended on his paying attention. But now... he had missed the entire walk here. And he hadn't even noticed. He was always so lost in though now... it seemed the entire island might burn down and he would barely even notice a thing out of place.

He lowered his head, in shame for himself more than anything. But now he was here, where he wanted to be. Well, he wanted to be home, but this was the closest he'd ever get to that at any point in the remainder of his own life, however long or short that might end up being.

He came here a lot, every day in fact, at least once. If he did nothing else, he made it here, for several reasons. The main one, he told himself, was so that if anyone else ever ended up here, they wouldn't have to be alone like he was. He had spent days on the beach when he'd first gotten here, he couldn't move, not with his leg, newly broken then. And also... he had just been waiting for... someone. To help him or hurt him hadn't mattered, he just needed some sort of proof that he wasn't really alone. Unfortunately that proof never came, because he was alone, and had been ever since. But... no matter what... he swore that no one else would ever have to be alone like that again...not on his island.

Even though with each passing day, he doubted more and more that anyone else was coming. And that was good with him. Because no matter how much he ached for just... anyone else to be here with him... at the same time, he knew he would rather go through this alone then to have anyone have to share it.

He lowered his head again at this, eyes shut tight, his heart nearly breaking for a time he'd lost count of long ago. Sometimes, he just wanted someone to be here with him, but then he had to condone those thoughts as well. Because deep down he knew, having someone here with him would only be even more painful than being here alone. And he didn't care how long he had to stay here, but he hoped honestly and wholeheartedly that is was something he would have to do alone.

Opening is eyes, but not lifting his head, the hedgehog found himself looking at a word, traced in the sand. The letters, for the most part, had been washed away by the tide, but he could still barely make out the big 'A'. Crouching in the sand beside it, he carefully retraced the word into the sand.

Ashura.

Because that was who he was... and it wasn't something he was going to let himself lose. He might have lost everything else, but maybe... maybe this was something he could keep, if he tried hard enough. Folding his ears down, the hedgehog slowly stood up, and looking down at the newly traced letters, he let his head drop again.

The hedgehog stayed where he was for a moment, in silence. Standing with his head down and eyes shut, trying his best to stand evenly on his leg, broken and healed crooked, in silent mourning for himself. Because he knew that sooner or later, he was going to die. Perhaps not physically, but... himself. He could feel it every day; he would lose more and more of himself. And when the time finally came, when he was no longer... who he was, when the word Ashura no longer meant anything to a soul in the world, besides maybe an old mistake... when that day came, there would be no one left to care.

Slowly letting himself down until he was sitting in the sand of the beach, Ashura slowly opened his eyes again. This time, he really was crying. Not a real, deep cry, just the faintest wetness on his eyes. But in his mind, it still counted. He could let himself cry this one time, because he was crying for someone who no one else would. He would never know another soul now, and he would never accomplish anything. No matter how long it dragged out, his life was over. And sooner than later, he'd be too far gone for even himself to even realize anymore. The Ashura he was now wasn't going to last for much longer. He was slowly losing himself, and there was nothing he could even do about it besides wait for the inevitable.

And he still couldn't figure out what he'd ever done wrong.

Mossmask: As always guys, any comments, critisism, or advice is more than welcome~ Tell me anywhere you think I could improve, or what you think I did well. ^^

~Mossmask Out!