Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Best viewed with story width in 1/2 format. © Kure Yuki & KOEI Co.

Note: Something out of boredom and way too much indie films at night. Enjoy!

CHAPTER ONE

TO HINO KAHOKO

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YOU STUPID, STUPID GIRL! Look! Look at what you've done—what you did to yourself! Oh, why do you have to leave so early today? You're usually almost late or just in time. If only you left home at the usual time, this wouldn't have happened. You wouldn't be there right now, sprawled-eagle on the hard pavement.

The man inside the car hasn't left his seat. You wonder and hope that he's unscathed after crashing headfirst onto that post. The whole thing wasn't entirely his fault. He was actually trying to avoid you but you just moved the wrong way. You don't want to blame him for everything because you know you also have fault in the whole incident.

Then you begin to wonder what time it is. No . . . wait. You checked your phone a while ago, and you vaguely remembered it was only six thirty.

Well . . . this is just great. No matter how badly you want to move your body, you can't. You just couldn't. All you could do is lie down there, and feel the cold breeze passing by. Well, at least, you could still sense the temperature. That's a good sign. Who else could be up at this early in the morning? Oh, speaking of the devils, here they are.

It must be bad—very bad because of how horrified their faces appear. They all look like they're scared to approach you. What's the matter—shoot! Your skirt! Oh no, you better wish you're not flashing them with your unflattering underwear.

From the crowd starting to form around you, a woman kneels right next to you. You could feel her palm on the side of your neck. It's warm. It somehow gave you hope. You could hear her say things to you, but you couldn't understand a word. Next to her, there's a man with his phone pressed against his ear. Maybe he's asking for immediate help; also, he knows the woman. While turning his neck towards the sign on the nearest corner, (probably telling whoever he was talking to of your current location) he places an assuring hand on the woman's shoulder. Glinting on his ring finger is a silver band. Ah! You get it now, they're married. Well, good for them.

There's a group of students trying to identify you from afar. Good thing you're wearing your school uniform or else they are going to have a hard time figuring out which school you go to. They'll know immediately that you're from Seiso Gakuen. If they need a more specific means of knowing you, someone has to look inside your bag. Your ID and other personal belongings with your name on it are all in there. All you need is someone brave enough like the woman to step forward.

While the commotion thickens, your sight starts to betray you. You can't seem to focus your eyes on the people around you any longer. Everything is starting to lose its shape; and the colour of their clothes and hair begins to swirl right before you. You need to take a break from this. You need to put your attention on something else, and try and keep calm while they sort you out. But where should you place it instead? Hmm . . . all you can see, beside them, is the sky. . . .

The sky . . . is as beautiful as you saw it before leaving home. Suddenly you found every trace of thought focused solely on the clouds drifting above as if this sad fate never happened. And slowly you let go of everything else as you contemplate on the people that mattered to you—that have touched your life. Throughout the years you've lived your life, have you ever given thought of what kind of memory you'll be leaving them with? Have you ever considered how they're going to react if you never made it alive? Or what will their life be after you're gone?

Maybe now is the time to think about how you want to leave them. It may be too late for them to know, but you could at least try and hope that, whatever your message is, it will reach them unconsciously. Use the sky. Skywrite your last messages and let the wind deliver it for you. Go on. Write your first letter while you still can.

Note: Let's see. Who should she write to first? Any guesses?

12.18.10