The night was beautiful. The vast expanse of bluish-black darkness blanketed the sky, like endless miles of velvet. The stars glinted dully in the blanket of darkness, like thousands of jewels stuck onto a long flowing cape. The night was cloudless. The waning crescent hung, motionless, in the pitch dark sky. It was like a curved scythe, beautiful, elegant, yet dangerous.
The moon. It was like me.
"I
won't say thank you
I'll always keep it inside."
A young girl sat on the park bench. Her blank, lifeless eyes drifted to the edge of the horizon. Her hand moved up, and seemed to stroke what was, or at least what she imagined, was in front of her. Her fingers, long and tapered, drummed her lap impatiently. She looked up.
"It
won't be a sad goodbye
Silently, the aftermath of the dream
rises."
She glided her fingers through her shoulder-length strawberry-blonde hair, and smoothed out the creases in her clothes. She glanced about furtively. "He's late," she murmured vaguely. "He was always punctual, if not early. This time, he's too late, something's wrong."
"Always,
always embracing
The fragments that rained into my hands."
"Ki-chan!"
The girl stood up, frowning.
"Hiro-senpai! You're late!"
A sky blue-eyed boy stood in front of her, grinning sheepishly. His tousled, raven black hair hung in front of his face. He tugged at his shirt absent-mindedly. He reached out a hand and ruffled the girl's hair, and chuckled. "Always about the punctuality, eh? Ki-chan?" he taunted, as his eyes glinted with mischief.
"I
already had the strength
To keep smiling to the end."