Hey, it's Crys again. It's been a long time since I've written, and I'm sure someone wondered why. I've been very busy and sick with a pretty bad illness, but I'm feeling better and I had time to write, thus this. Anyways, even if you don't care 'bout all that, please read and enjoy this. It's a Lucy-after-Lisanna-returned oneshot. It's pretty short, but the next one will be longer. Please R&R! Thanks~
Lucy hadn't cried. She hadn't cried over her father's death, her friends abandoning her, her guild ignoring her. Why bother crying now?
She had always known she was a replacement, and a shabby one at that. She had known this would happen. She still had not cried.
She didn't feel pain, sadness, or even anger. Just a state of indifference as she dealt with her hidden nonexistent tears. Lucy wasn't a celestial spirit mage for nothing. She had strong feelings.
Lucy left on a job. They never noticed. She was gone for three months and they didn't batt an eye. They didn't care, so why should she?
She pretended they meant nothing to her. They did the same. Even her closest friends forgot her name. She tried to forget them. It didn't work.
She still did not cry. She never let her guard down. She built up walls to keep people out. And slowly, she forgot how to love.
Lucy wasn't lonely. At least, not consciously. But deep down in her heart, she still missed them, even as time went on. She lived alone, alienated, afraid to let even one person into her life.
She did jobs alone, ever since that night. She'd quit the guild a long time ago. She couldn't stay there any longer. It had broken her.
Her vision was red now. All she saw was the pain she kept buried and didn't let go. The jobs she took brought her far from them, and farther from her heart, which though she would not admit it, she'd left behind with them.
She was a strong person. Far stronger then she'd ever care to admit. After all, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. She'd wished to be dead, to forget.
If only she could. She refused to let them haunt her, and in return, they haunted her the more.
She wore black, hooded and shadowed, as suited her wayward soul. Her hair was no longer yellow. Her pride and joy was fading, and she didn't care. She had nothing left.
And yet, even with everything they had put her through, whenever she thought of anything from her past, it was never in anger.
Lucy died alone. Not one person sat by her side as she drew her last breath. Not one person cared. She wasn't buried, not given a headstone.
She lay below a sakura tree and cried, cried the one tear, the one she had withheld since that night. She died alone.
And they never knew.