Disclaimer: I do not own After School Nightmare or any of the respective characters thereof.
Warnings: Language, although nothing too vile or offensive, and a little hint of sex, although not a full-fledged lemon so as still to suit the 'T' rating.
A/N: I'll leave most of it for the end ― for now, let me just say how happy I am that I finally got around to writing for After School Nightmare, one of my favourite mangas. And it's Sou x Mashiro, which makes it even better.
Far From a Fairytale
I tried to be a prince. For Kureha's sake. For my own. For everyone. I convinced myself that I could be a prince, a man. A hero to protect Kureha, because I was selfish enough to think that she needed to be protected. I tried, but…
The only prince I can be is the prince of hypocrisy. It's not what I want. It was never what I wanted. I want to be important. I want someone to look at me. To look only at me. Kureha… Kureha once looked at me like that. But now I want you to look at me, Sou. I want to be the one in your eyes again. It's selfish. I know that it is. But I'm allowed to be, aren't I? You told me that, Sou.
Someone told me that I was using this dream as a stage where I could play the prince. Maybe that is true. But how can that be, when I have this body? If the dream reflects what is truly in my heart, how can I be the prince? I would be lying. I am lying. I'm sick of lying. I don't want to do this anymore.
In my heart, I wear a girl's uniform. I have a girl's body, not a guy's. I am a girl. Biologically and…emotionally. It's time I admitted that. I want…I want to be special to you. I want to be protected. I want to be loved — I want this body to be loved. No matter how twisted I become in the dream, I want this body to be loved, always.
You're the knight, aren't you? Let me be your princess.
Sou. Let me love you.
The dream will become our fortress. Our castle. I know we can do it. Together. Be my knight, Sou. I'll be your princess.
It will be… our happy ending.
-o-
Be my knight, Sou. I'll be your princess.
Sou didn't know what to think about Ichijo's offer. He held the note close to his face, inhaling the delicate scent he'd come to associate with Ichijo. The smell —a subtle infusion of vanilla and cinnamon— was a fragrance that made Sou's heart beat faster, even though Ichijo wasn't even here. Desire crawled across his skin like a spider, making him shiver.
Mashiro… Ichijo…
Sou rolled onto his back, holding the letter above his face.It didn't help when he thought that this was the note that Ichijo had held in his hands, that this piece of paper had been close to him in a way that Sou hadn't been in a long time. Sou closed his eyes, breathing in deep. He could almost imagine that Ichijo was lying beside him… that if he turned, he could simply enfold Ichijo into his arms, kiss him, touch every inch of his body, make love to him… make him mine…
Sou swallowed hard, opening his eyes again. He didn't want to relieve himself with his own hand again —even though he could walk out of his dorm room right now and find any girl he wanted, amuse himself for a few hours with no stings attached until he was satisfied— but that wouldn't get Mashiro Ichijo out of his head. It wouldn't stop him from fantasising what his name would sound like when Ichijo moaned it in ecstasy. Sou forced himself to look at the note again, and he hated that his heart ached when he saw the words. The words that had been written only for him.
Even Ichijo's handwriting was feminine; graceful swoops and swirls penned with a light hand. A woman's touch. He smiled a little, imagining the look on Ichijo's face if Sou had to tell him that even his handwriting was girly. If he pouted, would Sou be able to stop himself from kissing that mouth? If he blushed, would Sou be able to stop himself from taking Ichijo right there and then?
Sou wanted him. He was in love with him. He needed Ichijo to love him back, so badly. And he had Ichijo's permission now… didn't he?
No. He didn't know what he had. He didn't know what Ichijo wanted, either. Was this an invitation into his bed, or his heart? Was it an invitation into both? This letter meant nothing unless he could hear the same words come from Ichijo's mouth. He needed to hear Ichijo say it. He wanted to see those lips saying…
"I want to be your princess, Sou."
And I want to be your knight, Ichijo.
But he didn't know if he could trust him. If Fujishima decided that she wanted her beloved Mashiro-kun back, no matter how much he had hurt and used her, Sou had no guarantee that Ichijo wouldn't run away to play the pretend prince again. It was difficult for him to admit, but he didn't know Ichijo's heart. They weren't close enough for him to know it.
And we never will be if I keep letting him push me away.
Sou stared at the ceiling. Part of him wanted to run to Ichijo now, and demand to know if he was serious about being with him. Sou didn't want to be betrayed by someone he thought he was in love with.
But what would he do if Ichijo was serious about him? If Ichijo said the words 'I love you' and actually meant them? Sou frowned. He hadn't actually thought about what that would mean. Would they be able to date openly in front of the other students? Would Ichijo start living as a girl, or would he want to keep his relationship with Sou a secret?
If he wants me to be his knight… if he wants to be my princess…he has to live as a princess. As a girl. Not only in the dream. I want this to be real. I want Ichijo to be mine, and I want everybody to know it.
And Ichijo wants…
"The dream will become our fortress. Our castle. I know we can do it. Together. Be my knight, Sou. I'll be your princess. It will be… our happy ending."
The dreams don't serve that purpose. He can't have been serious when he said that. My sister… Ai said that nothing good exists beyond the door. But nothing good exists in the dreams, anyway. Does Ichijo want to graduate with me? Is graduating the closest thing to commitment that Ichijo is willing to give? Or does he really think that we can manipulate the dreams together?
So many questions… Sou buried his face into his pillow, heaving a sigh. All these questions were going to drive him crazy. He hated not being sure of anything. Mashiro was playing a wild card seemingly out of nowhere and Sou had no clue how to react. What was he supposed to do? What did Ichijo want him to do?
Ichijo said he wants me. Ichijo said he loves me.
So why am I not looking for him?
I should be wherever he is… making him mine. Claiming him. Am I afraid of forcing him again? I don't want to be rejected. I don't want him to hate me.
But if I go claim him now… he won't resist. He won't fight. I can do it. I can… feel his heart beat for me. Only me.
Sou opened his eyes, swinging his legs decisively over the side of the bed. As he left his dorm room, he didn't hesitate in taking the condom in his bedside drawer with him.
-o-
There is always another one walking beside you
Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded
I do not know whether a man or a woman
― But who is that on the other side of you?
-o-
It was late when Sou knocked on Mashiro's door, but he knew Ichijo wouldn't be sleeping. Rest didn't come easily to people like them, and with such confused and anxious thoughts, Mashiro would be very much awake. He tapped the door again, patiently, before he heard soft footsteps. The door opened, and then Mashiro was there, standing in front of him.
His fair hair was still damp and his cheeks were flushed –he must have just had a shower, Sou realised– and his eyes glowed faintly in the hallway's bright fluorescent lighting. His mouth parted slightly in surprise when he saw it was Sou standing there.
He's beautiful. So, so beautiful…Sou thought, taking a step forward. And I can finally make him mine. He wants to be mine. I can see it in his eyes.
Sou felt a thrill run through his body when Ichijo didn't take a step back.
"You're not afraid? You're not going to run away again?"
Mashiro's eyes flitted down to the piece of paper crumpled in Sou's fist before flicking back to rest on his face. "No," he almost whispered. "Not this time. I'm tired of running away. You know that I won't."
"I don't know, Ichijo. You said you would never fall for me. You told me that you hated me. I don't want to force myself on you. I don't want to become the kind of guy you'll hate."
"I… don't think of you that way anymore."
"How do I know that? I don't trust you. I don't even know if I can trust you. All I have is a damn letter which doesn't mean shit!"
Mashiro shook his head, eyes widening desperately. "It isn't like that, Sou. I meant what I wrote. I don't want to lie to you anymore. I want us to be–"
"This isn't a fairytale, Ichijo. In the end, we won't be riding off into the sunset on a white horse to live happily ever after. What's waiting for us beyond the door could be paradise or hell. And this–" he thrust the letter at Mashiro, dark eyes hardening. "This isn't even you. I don't believe you wrote this crap. 'Be my knight and I'll be your princess'? Quit screwing with me, Ichijo. This is someone that I don't know. This is–"
This is someone I don't love, Sou stopped himself from saying.
Mashiro took the note with trembling hands. "Then what did you expect me to do, Sou?" he asked, barely suppressing the anger and bitterness in his voice. "I don't know how to act like a girl. I've never been a girl before now. I don't know how to act around you anymore. I feel pathetic. That's why I wrote the note. You're all I can think about, but… I don't even know how to be a girl for you, Sou. You say you love me as a girl, but I don't understand why–"
His words were swallowed up by Sou's lips. Sou was kissing him, as passionately and hungrily as he had done that first time in the elevator. Mashiro could remember every kiss from Sou being like this: turbulent, forceful, ardent and aggressive, all at the same time. But now… Sou was cradling him like he was a fragile statue that might shatter at the harshest breath of wind, stroking his hair and lips like they were made of spun glass.
Is this how Sou would hold a girl? Mashiro thought numbly. Is he holding me like this only because I told him I've accepted being a girl? What about before, why didn't he ever…? Why has he never held me like this before?
"You're so stupid, Mashiro," Sou whispered, cupping the other's face with his hands. "So fucking stupid. I've never needed you to be anything for me. I've never wanted anything more than this – than you. You're all that I need. I don't care what kind of girl you are. You're perfect just like this."
Mashiro tried to smile at him, did smile for him, and Sou smiled back, bringing his hands up, caressing Mashiro's cheek tenderly as he leaned forward to brush their lips together.
"I know you hate this body," Sou murmured. "I know that you think it's ugly and twisted. But you are beautiful… I've always thought so. And I want you to believe it, Mashiro. I want you–"
A breath hitched in Mashiro's throat as Sou's hands, so gentle now, caressed his body through his clothes. He could feel Sou's breath, hot against his neck, and he closed his eyes, sliding his arms to clench them in a tight embrace around the other man.
"There's no turning back now. I won't let you run away. I won't let you go."
Deliberately, he began unbuttoning Mashiro's pyjamas, nudging him gently towards the bed. Mashiro let out a faint cry when his knees hit the bed, but he was silenced by Sou's fingertips caressing his lips. Sou stood watching him, letting his eyes rake admiringly over his body.
Flat on his back, chest heaving, Mashiro looked up at him. A faint blush infused his cheeks and he turned his head to one side, avoiding Sou's intense gaze. "Sou, I– I've never–"
"I know," Sou whispered back, smoothing his hair with the lightest of touches. "I'll be careful. I would never do anything to hurt you, Mashiro. Never. I'll protect you. I will be your knight."
Sou sounds exactly like I did when I was talking about saving Kureha, Mashiro thought dully. I told him that I wanted him to be my knight. I wanted him to save me. It's what I wanted, isn't it?
Once this is done, I can't go back. I'll be a girl, and I'll… be Sou's. I'll belong to Sou. It's okay. This is what I've decided to do. It doesn't matter whether I love him or not. Sou's the only one who can do this for me.
He drew Sou down on top of him, kissing him deeply. He felt the taller man smile into the kiss when he felt the acquiescence, and when Mashiro felt a hand creep between his thighs; he clenched his eyes shut and said nothing.
Sou is the only one who can make me whole.
His world became washed in a chaotic whirl of pleasure and touch and he moaned in response when Sou groaned his name, writhing under Sou's touch, gasping, voicing his desire. He lifted his hips willingly when the time came, extending his arms to Sou in supplication, inviting him inside.
"Save me, Sou," he whispered pleadingly.
"Save me from this dream."
-o-
Sou felt like he was dreaming. Waking up to Mashiro's warmth next to him made him feel like he'd fallen into paradise while he slept. He lay awake for a long time, just watching Ichijo sleep. He –no, she, he reminded himself– looked so innocent, so perfect next to him. Sou traced Mashiro's lips with one finger, remembering how sweet they tasted when kissed willingly, at invitation.
Is this it, sister? Am I saved? Sou wondered, placing his hands flush against Mashiro's body. It was surprisingly feminine even without any vestige of breasts, soft and even curved in places – something that had been lost under the boy's uniform that he had always worn. Sou let his hands go further, retracing the paths he had travelled only hours before. Mashiro had always said that he was too bony and ugly to be a girl, but in the morning light, lying naked and so uninhibited in Sou's arms, he was as beautiful as any girl. More so than any girl Sou had ever been with.
I love Mashiro. I want him to save me.
Mashiro squirmed under his touch, mumbling a sleepy protest before pulling himself closer to Sou's chest. Sou pressed his lips to the other's fair hair, encircling him in his arms, as if he could somehow pull Mashiro into himself.
That's how much I want to protect him. That's how much he means to me.
"Sou?"
Mashiro stirred, blinking drowsily up at him. Without knowing why, Sou leaned down to kiss his cheek, murmuring, "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere. I'll stay beside you."
"Even in the dream?"
Sou nodded, wrapping his arms possessively around Mashiro. "Even in the dream. I promise."
"That's good. I'm glad… that I can depend on you, Sou."
They lay in peaceful, contented silence, savouring each other's nearness and warmth. Sou was reminded of last night, the first time where sex had actually felt like making love. Mashiro had welcomed him into his body, his twisted and bizarre form, and made it beautiful. Passion beyond what Sou had ever felt for anyone before, even Ai. And he had been careful, so careful for Mashiro.
Then Mashiro smiled at him, and Sou was drowning in those eyes all over again.
"Sou," he whispered. "I love you."
That was before Thursday came.
-o-
I have heard the key
Turn in the door once and turn once only
We think of the key, each in his prison
Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison
-o-
Mashiro was covered in blood. Mashiro was holding the key in his hand. Mashiro was… Mashiro had… stabbed him in the back, ripped the key from his body…
Something irreparable in Sou shattered into a billion pieces, and he felt every shard pierce his heart like a needle.
"I knew you were going to do this. I knew I wouldn't be able to trust you."
Mashiro raised his head, looking at Sou lying on the ground. "Then why didn't you stop me?" he said helplessly, letting his bloodstained swords —they were stained with Sou's blood, oh god— fall to the floor.
"Because I loved you. Because I still love you."
"…That's pathetic, Sou."
"You're the one crying, princess."
And then Mashiro was crying, hiccupping that he was sorry, that he'd never meant for any of this to happen. "I should've… found a way to do this without hurting you, Sou. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"You're not sorry. You have the key. You got exactly what you wanted from me. That's why you slept with me, isn't it? You decided that you would be a girl, so there was only one way for you to really feel like a girl. 'All I have to do is let Sou fuck me', right? Shit," he laughed weakly. "I can't believe I actually fell for that crap. 'Be my knight', my ass. It was all one big fucking joke to you, wasn't it?"
"Sou—"
"Ichijo. Stop it. I'm tired of your games. I've had enough."
"Sou… stop…"
"You're the one who's pathetic. Look at you. You're falling apart again."
"And what right do you have to judge me, Sou?" Mashiro raised his face, a look of ugly bitterness twisting his almost angelic features. "This is your fault. Everything is your fault. If it weren't for you always being in my head, I could have been a guy. I could have!"
"But you couldn't forget. So you decided…" Sou coughed weakly, tasting blood on his tongue. "To be a girl. Did you think that would make you happy?"
"I couldn't go on as I was. Maybe now my mind and body can finally be at peace. I just… needed you to make me a girl. That's all." He flushed, not meeting Sou's eyes. "That's all the other night ever was."
"I see," Sou stared at the ceiling. "So that's… all it was."
"I'm sorry."
"You should be."
"Don't pretend that this is all my fault, Sou! Because of you, Kureha… Kureha and I…"
"Fujishima left you because you couldn't be the man she needed you to be. You wanted her to stay the fragile little princess that you could protect, just because it made you feel like a man. You wouldn't let her be anything else because it was convenient for you. Do you know what you're doing now, Ichijo? You're running. You're using graduation as an excuse to run away. Just like you used Fujishima as a excuse to be a man."
"I'm not running. I'm finally going to be free. Free from you, Sou."
"Liar. You trapped yourself long before I came along."
Mashiro's face crumpled. "I'm not listening to you. It doesn't matter anymore," he muttered, more to himself than Sou. "You don't matter anymore. I'm going to be free. I'm going to live in my own paradise beyond that door."
Sou drew in a deep breath, wincing. Damn. Even a dream could hurt this much. "Right. Keep telling yourself that, princess."
"I will! That's the point of the dreams, isn't it? To find the answers, to find peace!"
"Then, Ichijo… I hope you find what you've been looking for."
"I know I will."
"Then go. Leave. Run."
"I…am. I want to." But he stayed there, on his knees, eyes fixed on the ground.
"What the hell are you waiting for? Do you need someone to hold your hand while you go through the door?"
Mashiro raised his head, looking intently at him.
"Ai-san… your sister told me that something happened to you. Something… that you wanted to tell me."
Sou smiled, wondering why, even now, he wanted to tell Mashiro the truth. But Mashiro didn't deserve…
"You didn't have the right to know the state of my heart then, and you damn well don't have that right now. You lost it the moment you stabbed me in the back. I'll never tell you. I'll never let you get that close to me again. No matter what, I can't trust you again. I refuse to."
Mashiro just looked at him numbly, looking so hurt. What right does he have to be hurt? Sou thought furiously. He told me he loved me. He told me that he used me. And now he wants to feel sad about it? He deserves nothing from me. Nothing.
"No. I knew that's what you would say. I just thought—"
"What?" Sou said bitterly. "That I'd pity you enough to tell you everything before you leave me? That's just like you, Ichijo. Even in the end, it's still all about you. Go. Just go. Looking at you makes me sick. I'm glad I won't remember you when you disappear."
"Sou—"
He felt a warm hand brush his cheek tenderly and closed his eyes, unconsciously leaning into Mashiro's touch.
"Sou. Look at me."
When he heard Mashiro's voice, sounding so desperate and filled with tenderness, he wanted to open his eyes. But when he smelled the blood, his blood, when he felt the stickiness of blood on the hands touching him, he recoiled.
"Don't touch me. Don't even look at me. Just go. Run as far away from me as possible – it's what you wanted, isn't it?"
The hand left him.
"Okay. If that's what you want."
Of course that's not what I want, Sou wanted to say. I want you to stay. I still love you. No matter what you did, I still love you, dammit.
But he didn't look at Mashiro again. He didn't want to see those eyes.
Sou only turned his head when he heard the footsteps leading away from him toward the gate. He saw Mashiro looking back at him –is that regret in his eyes?– before he vanished into the darkness of the gate.
As Mashiro disappeared, Sou's last bead broke – and so did his heart.
The graduation bell began to toll.
-o-
I could not speak, and my eyes failed,
I was neither living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
-o-
"I keep thinking I've forgotten something."
His sister gave him a puzzled look before she laughed, that strange little girl laugh that never failed to give him chills. "Don't be ridiculous, Sou. You haven't forgotten a thing. Trust your big sister to know."
"No…" Sou shook his head, a frown touching his lips. "It's something important. It just keeps slipping away from me every time I try to get a grasp on it—"
"It can't be very important, then, can it?" She slipped her hand into his before he could protest. "Come on, Sou. Forget about whatever is and come with me. As long as we have each other, you don't need anything else. Right?"
Ai flashed him a whimsical smile, and Sou felt a twinge of disgust in his stomach, but he nodded unconsciously and her hand tightened possessively over his.
"Maybe I should go back – I might have left something in the classroom, or my locker."
"You can do that later, Sou." His sister's voice would have sounded so sweet to anyone else, but Sou heard the underlying ring of command, seeping like a poison into his will. But he shook his head, pulling his hand from her tight grip. Her mouth opened in a faint 'o' of surprise.
"I need to get this. I know it's something important," Sou told her. "I'll only be a minute. You don't need to come with me."
Ai pursed her lips. "You'll come see me later, Sou. You promised, remember?"
"I will. I didn't forget."
I could never forget, he added silently as he walked away, turning his back on her as she waved and smiled at him.
The sun was beginning to set as Sou made his way back to the classrooms. It was completely deserted, and he stood by his desk, staring at its emptiness. There was nothing here.
What could have I forgotten? Something… I can feel that it's important; I know that it's important, but it disappears each time I try and hold onto it.
It can't be that important then… can it?
Did I… make a promise to someone?
He stood there for a long time, inhaling chalk dust and the musty scent of twenty teenagers cooped up in a classroom on a hot summer's day. No, he finally decided, there was nothing here worth remembering.
It was time to leave. He had a promise to Ai that he had to keep.
There was nothing keeping him here. But Sou still couldn't bring himself to leave.
It's as if I'm waiting for something – or someone. Was I supposed to meet them? Is that why I'm still here?
"This is ridiculous," he said aloud. "I don't even know why I'm here."
Decisively, he moved towards the door. He was wasting his time waiting for a person who might never show up.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, there was a flash of golden hair. Sou whipped around; heart suddenly pounding a hundred miles per second. He opened his mouth to demand who was there, only to realise that he would be shouting at an empty room.
He stepped forward cautiously, scanning the room slowly.
"I don't know what kind of game you're playing but you'd better come out now, whoever you are," he said sharply. "I mean it. I'm not in the mood for this kind of bullshit."
No reply.
Sou let out the breath he'd been holding. He must have been seeing things, he rationalised to himself. A trick of the light had led him to believe that there had been someone with fair hair standing in the room with him. Someone standing right where―
Sou's heart stopped beating.
Someone standing right where my desk is.
There was something on his desk. A folded piece of paper that Sou was certain had not been there before.
In a daze, he walked towards it, ignoring all the warning bells shrieking in his head. He picked up the note, feeling the slight weight of the paper in his hands. It was real.
Is this what I was waiting for? A letter?
His hands began to tremble. He caught the faintest whiff of cinnamon, a warm, sweet scent infused with a subtle hint of vanilla. For some reason, the smell made his heart ache suddenly, with a profoundness that made him feel like he wanted to cry.
What's wrong with me?
Bewildered, Sou unfolded the letter and was surprised to see that the handwriting was quite feminine and elegant – a girl's letter, then. He couldn't quite explain the disappointment he felt at that moment, which confused him even more than how the letter had come to be there in the first place.
The note began simply enough.
Sou,
I promised you once that the dreams would become our fortress. Our castle. I never lied to you – it's important to me that you know that. I know we can do it. Together. I've made mistakes, I know that. I don't know if you'll ever forgive me for them. But I've found my happy ending – now I want to help you find yours. My offer still stands. Be my knight, Sou. I'll be your princess.
Look for me in the dreams. If you want to find me, you will. Because that's just how you are, Sou. And I'll be there, waiting. I promise.
I love you. Honestly and truly, no matter how badly I hurt you – I love you. Remember that.
―Mashiro.
Mashiro… Ichijo?
Sou frowned. How did he know that name? He didn't know anyone named Mashiro Ichijo. There was no one named Mashiro Ichijo at the school. This letter was a load of bullshit, then. It was obviously a prank that some girls had decided to pull because they were pissed off that he refused to date any of them anymore.
But then why are there tears in my eyes?
He brushed them away irritably, but they kept coming, blurring the words in his vision.
This is a joke. It's only a joke. So why am I crying?
Who was Mashiro Ichijo? Was it a girl or a guy? The letter sounds like it was written by a girl, but Mashiro is a boy's name…
Was he a dreamer, that I don't remember him now? And if I don't remember him, it means he's graduated. Then why is he still here, writing to me? Was I… important to him?
Sou looked up, scanning the room again. There'd been no one with him before the letter appeared. He was sure of it.
And yet…
He found his hand moving involuntarily, retrieving a fresh sheet of paper and pen from his desk. Without knowing why, he wrote a reply.
Mashiro,
I'll look for you in the dream. I won't stop until I find you again. I don't know if I can forgive you for whatever it is you did, but you have my word that I will find you.
I don't believe in fairytales ― or happy endings, either. They don't exist in this life. The same goes for that 'be my knight and I'll be your princess' crap. It's not real. But if you believe that you can find it that way, I'll follow you.
―Sou.
PS. I lov―
Sou paused, staring at the words he had stopped himself writing halfway. 'I love you'? What the hell did I mean by that? I can't love somebody who I can't even remember!
He scratched through it decisively, and folded the letter in half. Automatically, he turned to a desk near to his own and placed it on the wooden surface. The desk had been empty for a few days now, and Sou figured that the student must have graduated ― since I can't even remember who sat there in the first place. It could have been Mashiro, for all I know.
The thought gave him some measure of comfort. Sou touched the paper, feeling the only connection between himself and this ghost. He stayed there for several long moments, watching the shadows play over the classroom walls while the sun dwindled outside. Finally, as the last of the sun disappeared, Sou stood to leave.
He paused in the doorway when he caught the fleeting rush of an achingly familiar scent. When he turned around, the letter was gone.
Sou smiled.
PART ONE: END
A/N: And thus ends Sou's part of the story. If it seems to you that there are parts missing from the narrative, you would be right. It's because I originally planned this as a two-part story, so Mashiro's instalment is still forthcoming, and it will answer most of the questions raised in Sou's story.
There were two complaints that I got from my beta, Azilver, about this particular fanfic ― a) that the first part, the letter, was quite 'girly' for Mashiro, and maybe a bit too out of character; and b) that Sou would not refer to Mashiro as 'he' but rather as 'she'.
There are specific reasons for why I did this: a) Perhaps the contents of the letter was out of character for Mashiro, but I also felt that he was honestly trying to be a girl for Sou (even if his motives were deceptive) and the stereotypical version he adopted in the note was what he felt Sou would respond to. There are other, more intricate reasons, but I'll save those for the second part of the story.
With b) I was also rather conflicted on this issue. At one point, Sou does correct himself in calling Mashiro 'she' rather than 'he', but soon returns to addressing him as 'he'. This is how it's done in the manga, and I suppose it's affected how I see them: I can't really seem to get out of the habit of thinking of Mashiro as a 'she', even though I do think of him as a girl without breasts . So, I ended up leaving it as it was originally written. Mashiro is addressed, even by Sou, as 'he'.
Also, after I wrote the last part, I read back and worried that I had made Sou out of character. But memory is a powerful thing, and I can be a bit of a sap for romance, so I wanted to leave at least the possibility of a happy ending (or not) for when I write the complete ending in Mashiro's story.
Before I forget, the three beautiful extracts of poetry that I inserted between sections were taken from T.S Eliot's The Waste Land, one of my favourite poems. If you have not read The Waste Land, put down whatever you're doing and go read it now. It's brilliant. It's disturbingly beautiful. It's life changing.
I haven't written such a lengthy, serious one shot in ages, but I'm quite happy with how it turned out. Reviews would be much appreciated, and any (reasonable and decent) criticism will be welcomed.