Paper Wings

I fly on paper wings. My body is a toy. My heart is a watercolor painting of all colors of the rainbow. The winds shove me along, tossing me up through the air, and slamming me back to the ground with as much zeal as they used to lift me up. When it rains, my wings melt. My body rusts. My heart grows blurry, and nothing is clear.

I do not believe in curses. I believe in people. They are the instigators. There is no god behind the tragedies in this world-Oyashiro-sama is not at fault. Who is? I cannot answer that question. I'm not sure if anyone can.

Mion is a young girl immersed in love. As I watch my sister's relationships grow and blossom, I feel so old. I can barely lift the corners of my mouth in a lopsided smile to show her my approval. My hands tremble as I think of my own lost love. His arms are not draped around my shoulders. I cannot feel his lips caressing my skin. I am like the decrepit woman alone on her porch, rocking slowly, dreamily in her rocking chair as tides of memories wash over her. I sigh wistfully at the love that unfolds around me, wishing that it would unfold onto me. Am I alone? No, I suppose that I could not say that. But in the most acute, heart wrenching sense, yes, I am.

I hold the menu over my chest as the men seated in the booths ogle me. My breasts are nearly spilling out of my work uniform. I can't pretend that the customers have never taken advantage of me. Sometimes, on days that I am drowning in myself, I find myself letting them. Anything to keep the memories at bay. I see Satoshi's face as I am disgracing myself again and again. As long as he is there, I can block out the sweat dripping down the men's faces, and their hands roughly gripping me. Even though Satoshi might be the one that has destroyed me, he is also my savior.

I am still in love. As I am running out of the building, my heels clacking on the pavement in my eagerness to be on break, I know that my heart is taking a break, as well. I am in intermission. When Satoshi returns, Act Two will begin. The play button will be pressed, and I will be rescued from the shambles of my life. I am waiting, my dear. Are you waiting for me?

My heel snags on the last stair. I am pitching forward, tumbling, stumbling, slipping, falling, crashing, and slamming into the ground. I can't think anymore. Red. Everything is red. My arm seems to be burning. My head is pounding, like someone is banging on my skull with a rock. Screams echo through my head. I don't know who they are. I only know that I am falling away and even the red is fading into black and Satoshi's face is sliding away and I am lost and it is dark and it is so dark and I don't know where I am and am I dead and am I gone and am I going to be okay and am I going to see Satoshi and why did everything have to end this way?

.

.

.

Shion, can you hear me?

Who is this? Faces and names will not come to me here.

I have to tell you something, okay? They said that you don't have long.

I will listen. I do not know what else to do.

I always thought that you were the stronger one. You lost Satoshi. You lost him even though you ripped off your nails and fought and struggled against our family, and you still kept going. I admire you for that. I know that you stopped telling me about your suffering, and maybe it never stopped. I want you to know that you are strong. You could survive anything if you wanted to. You can survive through this.

She does not know me. Whoever is speaking to me, she is not as close to me as she is so disillusioned to believe. I am not the shining beacon of strength that she thinks of me as. I have been losing the battle for three years now. Maybe it's time that I finally resigned.

Shion? Please, hold on. For me. Mion.

Ah, Mion. I remember that face. She couldn't think that, could she? She is the one with the power. She can do whatever she would like. She has love. She can remember the world as one of opportunity and fun, rather than one of failures and whispers of past troubles at every corner. Mion, how could you ever believe this?

This is only temporary. You can come back. I know you can.

Could I?

I miss you. I miss you so much that it hurts. You aren't dead-and I hope that you won't be for a very long time-but it feels like you are. I'm looking down at you, and you are so pale. Your lips are white, and your eyes are shut. Somebody tied your hair back like mine. Now we look almost identical. Except you are motionless on the bed, and I am standing here crying over you. See? I can cry, too. I hurt, too. I know that you thought that I couldn't feel anything but joy, but you were wrong. I'm not perfect. Neither are you, but you have been hurt more and seen more pain that I could ever imagine. I need you.

Mion, you and I have so much more in common than our bodies. I never could have imagined her crying, but somehow my face is wet, and somehow I am feeling it. I can visualize the tears streaming down her face, and her shaking her hair over her eyes to shield her pain from any onlookers. I would do the same.

I love you, Shion. Do you love me?

My hand is squeezed. I can't squeeze it back. I am not alone, though. This I take comfort in. Mion, you are here. You are here and I love you, too. You are my sister, my twin, and I'm sorry that I haven't been there for you in the past. I should have tried. I really should have. When I wake up, I will see you. I will hug you and whisper in your ear that I love you, too, and I will be there for you when you cry and if Keiichi leaves you and you are as broken-hearted as me, I will comfort you. You are my sister. You are the breeze that lifts my paper wings and propels me into the air.

I am so sorry.

Mion wipes at her eyes, and she lets out a long, shuddering sigh. Keiichi is waiting for her outside. Her life has been put on hold for this long, irreplaceable moment. She steps back, and takes one last look at Shion. "I'll come see you tomorrow, okay?" she whispers. "Okay?"

Shion does not answer, of course. Her injuries from the fall are severe. Mion had always told her that the Angel Mort would end up really hurting her someday. Mion hadn't counted on being right.

Mion turns away, closing her eyes as she trudges to the door. She has to be strong for Keiichi. He will hold her, stroke her tangled, green hair and murmur comforting words to her, and for a while, she will feel better. Keiichi has always been like that. He can keep the pain at bay for a short while, but sooner or later, it will find itself rushing back in.

"Mion?" Keiichi says, cracking the door open a little bit to peek in. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she smiles shakily, widening the crack to slip out of the room. "I'm fine."

He takes her hand and leads her down the hallway. Away from the inevitable loss and quickly fading life of Shion Sonozaki. To a place where love is possible and life carries on.

Inside the white, sterile hospital room, Shion takes one last breath. Her life is rushing over her in tidal waves as her breathing slows. One last face, and she is gone. Departed. On her way to a place where love is possible, and life carries on without her.

"I believed that someone'd
Take care of me tonight
Oh and as I'm looking out at you
Can you see that in, in my eyes
On the mend,
Now they could lead me home"

- "Black Like Me" by Spoon

Author's Notes: This is a one-shot that I wrote to get me back on my feet with writing after a week on vacation. This is the product of an out of control life lately, and a need to take a small break from the multi-chapter fic I've been working on for the past three months. I think that the multi-chapter will be a very long time, though. I want to weight until it's done before publishing it, and I'm only at the second chapter and 8,000 words. It's a huge change from what I've written previously, so I hope that you will enjoy it when it's finished! In the meantime, I'll post some one-shots that I do when I need a break. (:

Have a good day, and thanks for reading!