It's been four days since I last heard from you.
Four days since you last scolded me. Four days since I last smelled lavender from your hair. Four days since I last saw your smile. Four days since my hand grazed yours in passing and a delightful, curious shiver ran through my body like lightning down from the clouds.
Four days ago you made no mention of your absence; the absence I am faced with now. At that time I was under the impression I would see you the next day at school and we would have lunch together, as usual, somewhere on the great and spacious grounds of Lillian. The college campus you attend isn't particularly far from the warm nook in the world known as the Rose Mansion, and while it always takes a slight amount of planning, I have always made time when possible to see you. Time that I continue to enjoy so immensely. Time that cannot be so easily fully described with words.
When you left Lillian, when you graduated, I forgot how to feel everything but loneliness. My first day as Rosa Chinensis was one of the hardest days of my life: It was the day I had to admit to myself you were moving on, you were growing up, you had places to be everyday that were not a part of my world. I felt like the sky was the darkest shades of gray around me and clouds had covered up all that the Sun had to share. I choked out words at the opening ceremony. I cried before the new first years as they stood silently, intently listening to me politely even as I made a fool of myself and of the Yamayurikai. They had the gumption to stare at me afterwards as we walked back to the Rose Mansion. Even after that speech they still had this shine in their eyes, this wonderment that I know so well. The one that I remember from the days of past when I watched you with that same gaze, curious and enthralled with your presence whenever you graced with me it.
I suppose I still feel that, however. I suppose I am still enthralled with you in such a basic way, even amidst our changing lives, roles and responsibilities. Enthralled with the person you are, with the radiance you shine, with the aura of sincerity and respectability that you somehow emit from every cell of your body no matter what state you might be in. You could be upset, I could be upset with you, we could be arguing... But somehow it manages to never change nor dilute the fact that I need you and the essential essence of your being in my life. It's these parts of you, it's every part of you, that gives me this happy thrill inside. It always has and I'm sure it always will, and while it's most basic roots perhaps lie in the simple-minded school-girl admiration from the past... My enthrallment with you has changed into something greater. It has changed into something perhaps on a different plane, in a different space, in a different frame of mind, one that is new and foreign yet not unlikeable to me. It has changed into something a lot more adamant than a mild childish fantasy; as if a speck of ivy was let to grow much too long on one tree, and reaching far too high up into the canopy to be reasonably contained.
My feelings have changed into something I cannot seem to control anymore. I should have realized it sooner, but I ignored it even as they evolved into something much more complex, much more dangerous.
Needing someone... It just happened. It was going to bed fine one day, and waking up the next with an extreme case of emotional hunger. After that morning realization, which happened on a day that I will always remember, I've found that it's scary to think about. Certainly more mentally consuming than the comparatively simple thought of wanting. Needing someone every day, every meal, every hour, every second, every breathing moment that you can share with them... It's scary to accept that. It's scary to admit to yourself that your heart and emotions are dependant on another person, every day, to calm the hungering nature inside that won't be satiated any other way. It's scary to sometimes not see your idyllic person when you expected to see them, perhaps too when you expected them for some time. It's scary to accept that you need that someone in your life for all the moments that come to pass, and even scarier to consider the prospects of losing that person should the worse come to bare its teeth at your neck. At your heart.
It's scary to fall in love. If this is what falling in love is... Then truly this is a lot scarier than what I read in girls' manga growing up. All those stories, all those fake characters with their fake little lives and fake little dramas with fake little problems... There is more to this love thing than just meeting someone and having it work out after a few ridiculous bumps in the road. More to romance then knocking someone up, bickering about it, and then moving on all perfect like with some other lover. It's not just about the big issues like they portray it, it's the little ones, too.
The little ones... The way she makes me feel when she smiles. The way she turns her body towards me when I have her attention. The way her voice floats on the wind to my ears... These things could never be conveyed so eloquently in simple words and lines on a page. It's more than that. These feelings are so much more complex and intricate. They pull my heart strings every day and I still have yet to become accustomed to their craving nature.
I don't know what to do with them. I feel like they're going to burst out of my skin and swallow me. During the day when I'm occupied I manage to contain them, except perhaps when my whole body is burning in anticipation of seeing you for lunch, or seeing you before we walk off campus together...
At night things are different. I sit alone in my room at my desk trying to focus on completing my homework, or planning for the Yamayurikai, and the thoughts in my mind begin to wander off into the sunlit lands filled only with you. When I go to bed, especially when I'm not exactly tired, it's even worse. I can lay awake and think about you for hours on end, sometimes until early in the morning. I roll around in my sheets until I've practically kicked everything off of my bed. I curl up into a fetal position and cling to my spare pillow, closing my eyes as countless feelings flood through my body as I think of you. As I dream of you.
I dream of us spending days and weeks on end together. Of us spending our lives together. Of you always being there for me, even when school is over and the quiet night is settling in. I dream of sharing dinner together, of taking late night walks together. I dream of bathing together and letting the serenity of water and your warm body relax away the trials of the day. And after bathing, I dream that we lay close together in a small but comfortably sized bed, sharing intimate moments that could never be put fully into modest words. Words that would make you blush, no matter how well you were raised to control your expressions.
Before I realize it, I'm crying again. Thinking of these things always makes me cry, and I know it. I've known it for sometime, and yet I'm still thinking them.
Onee-sama.
I want to see you again, Onee-sama. I want to hold you again... Onee-sama.
These last four days I have no idea what happened. I don't know where you are, who you're with, or how to contact you. Your cursed butlers continue to answer the phone and tell me you are not available. You haven't been to school. I even checked with student administration and they told me they couldn't answer any questions about you or your family. What is this? Do I need a search warrant? Or are they just scared to answer for the Ogasawara name?
Do they know who Ogasawara Sachiko is to me?
Onee-sama taught me to not be cowardly. She taught me not by telling me, but rather by allowing me to be strong. She gave me little pushes when I needed them. She gave me space when I needed to grow. And when she was gone, I grew just the same knowing full well that my dear Onee-sama cared for me from the depths of her heart.
I suppose that how I handled things in the past when Onee-sama was gone doesn't apply now. I suppose over the last four days, I've accomplished nothing more than live a ghost of a life and wander the colorless world in apathy. There were times in the past when I didn't see Onee-sama for many days, weeks even, and I managed okay. I managed to be happy and everything was okay. This time however...
This time was different. My physical and mental state should be evidence enough. I can't even believe I haven't bathed for two days in a row, and I smell it too. My skin feels entirely unpleasant. I would much rather like having smooth, clean skin that smells nice... Like Onee-sama's. Her skin is always so wonderful to touch...
I really want to touch Onee-sama. I want to hold her so I know she is right there with me... Really right there and nowhere else. I want to breath her in and never exhale. I want her essence to stay within me and co-exist forever. Within me and close to all my memories of her, close to all my feelings for her.
"You're seriously hopeless," I tell myself, the words floating off into the quiet, dark confines of my room.
I probably am hopeless. Oh well. I want my Onee-sama.
I need my Onee-sama.