A/N : Maroon Cross, I must thank you again for everything you do. Seriously guys, go read and review her stories. Like, right now.

The photography belongs to oiseau-chanteur on deviantArt and it's called "Screw Fate". Thanks to her ! Also, her gallery is fanta-static ! *w*

So... This is a sequel to my previous ficlet, Lipstick. This is set six months after Miku's final smile and tells how Luka can't accept Miku's death, and how the pinkette -sort of- overcame the pain.

There are some hints of one-sided Luka/Miki in the start, and Gakupo/Piko in the end. Hope it doesn't bother you. Also, Meiko is Miku's mother. I don't know if you guys caught it in Lipstick.

*Paru Café


Spitted Cherries


I try to smile, you know.

.

Miku worked in a photography studio.

Miku could be a model instead of a photographer.

Miku's skin was so white that I could saw her veins.

Miku sometimes gave the impression of being only sixteen.

Miku was something.

I liked her ankles, they were very fragile.

.

The first time we met, I had accompanied Miki in her modeling studio. I remember that I posted myself alongside the photographer, her eyes riveted to Miki. The click of the shutter pushed me to look down at her.

Miku was kneeling, eye pressed against the lens.

The whiteness of her skin still strikes me.

.

She glanced up at me.
"That's a quite nice colour for your nails, if you want to know."

.

My nail polish was red-orange.

Same colour as Miki's hair.

.

You might laugh and tell me that it's silly, but I at that time, I really saw the red string of fate.

This wire wrapped as a living being around your slender legs.

And it tried...

To catch me.

.

We started seeing each other after Miki had left the apartment.

I can remember your frank and clear laughter.

.

.

I loved your hair.

You lent me your polish because I had lost mine.

.

I realized that my feelings had changed directions.

No...

Not you!

.

.

"I fell in love with you."

Sun...

"Forgive me, Miku. Forgive me."

A tear...

"I want to die."

...and then your lips against mine.

.

All my senses are numb, I can only perceive Miku.

A false temperature, false sounds that offend our cocoon.

Only Miku is real.

.

"You eat a lot of cherries."

I take a puff of cigarette and laughed a little.

"I do, yet I don't like 'em."

"Why so?"

.

.

Toxic syrup-looking cherries.

.

"The person I loved before left a lot of cherries here."

"You eat them instead of throwing 'em away?"

"I find it hard to get rid of those I loved."

She gave me an anxious look.

"Will it be hard for me too ?"

.

.

I quickly learned about her illness.

She had just a few months to live. It was so disturbing.

Because her face, her whole body gave an impression of fragility...

But I thought it was completely normal.

.

"The spitted cherries, it's like... organs."

"True."

.

The red string of fate...

Is primarily a trickle of blood, right?

.

.

I love you so, so much.

I feel like dying, suffocated.

.

You love me completely differently.

In the limit of adoration, as if I were an idol...

Your muse?

.

I cherish you so much, one day, surely I will hold you in my arms.
And while taking your pretty face as if it were a treasure, I may have the urge...

To break it on the concrete floor...

Or so, hitting blows on it with metal rod.

.

.

You let escape some: "I love you ..."

I have the impression that you don't think seriously of the meaning behind those words.

But in fact, you love me sincerely.

And I, as I am ridiculously stupid, I still love you more.

.

How it's gonna help me, dammit!?

I love you, really, till I die at the same time as you!
But when one dies, surrounded by his family, nobody accompany you in death!

.

"Hold my hand when I die."

.

"So, let's get married."

"I don't have any ring."

"A flower is well enough."

"Alright then."

"I want a columbine."

A red flower on my finger.

Vermilion petals glide on your lips.

.

Don't leave me.

.

I don't want to consider for a second that you'll leave me for real.

We are strong.

We overcame a lot.

Laughter and mockery and sadness.

We will triumph over death and disease.

We're married, right?

.

The petals of the flower doesn't fall, it's a proof that you and I are strong.

.

You died three days later.

.

It was impossible.

.

But your body...

Your cold, cold body...

And it was unbearable to see you smile when you closed your beautiful eyes.

.

I won't hear your laugh anymore...

No...!


Say Miku, how am I going to spend the day today, tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and all the weeks to come, now that you're gone?

And then...

I thought wistfully...

Of the one I was at the time I thought that the world was exactly the same as my expectations.

.

A woman dressed in red was at my door.

"I learned that you were the girlfriend of my daughter."
I shrugged.

"I'm still her girlfriend."

Miku doesn't resemble this woman: Meiko.

Brown hair and eyes.

But red all over her body.

The blood of her daughter.

.

"Live your life."

"I can't do it, you know."

"It's hard, I know. But we must go forward."

"How can you say that? Your own daughter...!"

"I prefer to perpetuate her memory rather than wrap around me the ephemeral memories."

.

I float, I think.

My body is no longer mine.

You... you're gone.

What am I going to do now?

.

Perpetuate her memory...

That would be my role?

.

The dream.

Hope.

The future.

Reality.

Our reality.

.

I told our story over to anyone who would listen.

I won a bunch of money.

It's funny to think that I'm rich when you and I couldn't even make ends meet.

"Gakupo?"

"Yes, Luka."

"Could you lend me the hair lotion, please."

Meiko, your mother, and Gakupo also, I talk to her and him often. We exchange stories about you.

I became a singer, do you believe that?

Everywhere, they know me under the name "Cold-eyed Luka."

They say I sing a sweet voice, near whisper.

Even if I yell our story.

.

"Gakupo, do you have someone right now?"

"Well... Yes, a cutie boy, Piko. He works down there."

"Aaaah, lucky bastard... Nobody can love me..."

"What are you talking about? You're like, the most beloved girl of the whole country! Everyone dreams of you."

"Yes, yes, tens, hundreds, thousands of people!"

"See!"

"Maybe, but I've never encountered any of 'em, and I've never spoken to them. I could never talk to many people... It's scary... I don't know them, but they know me... With five or ten people, I could still have a conversation..."

I take a puff.

"But when there are so many people, it scares me..."

.

I don't go there often.

Our apartment, I mean.

When I go, I'm alone.

It's cold without you.

I love you way too much.

You're gone and I still love you...!

Why can't my body acceptthat you're gone?!

.

It's hard, but...

I try to smile, you know.