The Idiotic Doll

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A/N: There are four year gaps between each part.

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Pre-school

I am in love.

I mean, I think I am. I am in love, aren't I? My friends said I was. My younger sister very secretively (she yelled "Onee-chan's gonna get married!" as I chased her all around the supermarket) told me so. Even my puppy seemed to know!

Oh but... am I really? I'm just four years old after all. Mommy said that only adults like her fell in love. Only adults can fall in love because falling in love is a serious business, she said.

So... am I really? But I can't be... I'm not a grown-up yet.

I don't even talk with the boy when it's breaktime, let alone play with him and his "manly" dolls.

Honestly, I don't even like him. Papa always said "Honesty is the best-" Um. What's the word? Po... Poti... Poci... Poli-

Policy! Honesty is the best policy!

But... I don't even know what 'policy' means...

"Oof!" Owwie. Someone pushed me.

He's standing in front if me, his action figure clutched between his chubby hands. Why does he even play with it? I don't understand why boys would pretend that the toys would suddenly have superpowers just because they want them to... It doesn't work that way... Only real superheroes have real superpowers.

"I'm sowwy. Ah you oh-kay?" he asked, but he doesn't help me up from the dirty playground dirt because his hands are too full of his precious manly dolls. Hmph.

I don't think he was sorry for one bit. He kept on pushing me but he never helped me up! He already pushed me two times a while ago and he said sorry too but he did not look like he was sorry!

Why did my everyone say that I love him? He's being so so so mean to me! Why would I love him?!

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Grade school

"Hey, hey. I heard your one true love got punished by sensei again," my classmate giggled. Why was she talking to me? We've never talked before. Everyone usually avoids me.

Because they know I'm a freak.

"Who?" I asked, not looking up from my notes.

"Oh, pssh. Everyone in the Elementary division knows you've been in love with him since you two were babies," she giggled again, twirling a lock of her curly brown hair.

Ah. It's that guy she's talking about. Why would I be in love with the goofiest, most annoying boy in school? This girl must be crazy.

Instead of responding, I focus on my notes. The girl will eventually leave me alone if not paid attention to. All kids my age constantly want attention, but not me. I don't want attention.

"Hello!" a loud, superannoying voice called out. "May I sit here?"

It's snack time now and I look up from my seat in the grass and get rewarded with a snot filled sight.

He's so gross looking. His light hair was spotted here and there with unidentifiable dirt, as is every other part of his body. His knees and elbows were covered in red, angry streaks and, ugh, his face and his fingers were fudged with - ugh - snot.

Without waiting for my answer, he sits down beside me anyway. He smells like rotten sweat. Ew.

"Hey! I missed you!" he grinned after turning his innocent blue eyes toward me.

Oh, if only I could pull out those orbs and put them in a see-through jar and place it on a shelf so that I could stare at them all day. His luminescent blue eyes are so beautiful.

But that's illegal. And weird. And I'm sure I won't put up with his nonstop blabber mouth if he doesn't have those eyes.

"You talked to me less than an hour ago," I muttered between bites of my chicken and lettuce sandwich.

"That's still too long! I missed you I missed you I missed you!" he exclaimed, bouncing up and down, his infectious grin has yet to dissolve.

"Be quiet." Really. I can't believe I endure this torture just for those pastel blue eyes.

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Middle school

"Who are you talking to?" snickered one of my tormentors.

"Where are your friends, huh? Why can't we see them?" laughed another.

"Why don't you call them to show them to us?" sneered the third.

I ignored them, as usual. It wouldn't do any good to acknowledge these neanderthals.

"Don't pretend that were not here!" One pushes me back to the wall, another throws the book I was reading, and the last forces my chin up.

"You think you're better than us just because some weirdos want you to be the star of their weird show?" she cackled. "Well you're wrong so don't go about acting like you're royalty."

"...What?" I breathed, finally snapping out of disbelief from their idiotic logic.

My confusion seemed to fuel their ire even more. I don't understand why they need to do this to me. I've never tried to anger them. I even make an effort to avoid everyone.

"You..." She doesn't finish her sentence. Instead, she raised her right hand up high, getting ready.

"Stop!"

But my savior was too late. The loud smack of flesh against flesh resounded throughout the entire room just a millisecond after the cry of objection.

The three scrambled after my savior shoved them away from me.

It stings. I think I have a cut from the ring my heckler was wearing.

He does not come near me immediately as he was still shaking with restrained rage.

"Are you alright?" I asked. The irony of the whole thing was not lost on either of us.

He sighed and finally stepped toward me rather than answering my inquiry. He fixed my hair and wiped the blood off my face. He was silent the whole time.

I have never, never experienced silence whenever I was with him.

"Hey, let's go to my place! I want to show you the new action figure I got from my grand uncle!" he finally blurted out, a forced smile in place.

He was good at forcing smiles. Almost as good as me.

But then, when we were together, they were easily decoded.

"Sure. Let's stop by my house first," I forced a smile too, reaching out for one of his clenched fists. "We have cupcakes."

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High school

"Oi, when are you going to attend school again?" asked a familiar baritone. The voice came from behind me, most likely the owner of the arms braced around my waist.

"Who said you had permission to touch me?" I hissed through my clenched teeth. This guy really doesn't have any idea how much his actions affect me.

"You didn't answer my question," he tsked playfully.

"You didn't take your hands off me," I countered, tediously focusing on the carnations I was watering.

"If I do as you say, will you answer my question?"

"Probably."

"If I do as you say, will you help me wil the Geometry homework?"

"Definitely not."

"Aw, pretty please?" He took the watering can from me to set it aside and stood in front of me. He gently laid his palm to my cheek and tenderly raised my head. I was rewarded with a stunning sight.

His eyes were as beautiful as ever. They were the same shade as the endless blue sky, promising wonderful promises I'm sure the owner would painstakingly keep no matter what. His light blue eyes were framed with equally light windswept hair. Having his hair like that suits him perfectly. I'm surprised that they look somewhat acceptable because I'm sure he doesn't know what a comb is. His plump lips were sporting a breathtaking smile instead of the usual cocky grin.

I think my heart skipped a beat.

"You look beautiful, as always," he murmured, tucking a tuft of my dark hair behind my ear. "It's like I have a life-sized doll in front of me."

"I certainly hope I don't look like one of your dolls," I laughed, placing my hand on top of his.

"Definitely not," he mimiced, chuckling as he let go of me. He picked up the white, slightly rusty watering can and continued soaking the dehydrated flowers. "So, when are you coming to school again?"

I don't know. "Maybe tomorrow," I said in spite of the fact that every fiber of my being knows it is not so.

"You are a terrible liar," he whispered, facing away from me. Even though I can't see his face, I know for sure that his eyes are closed and his lips were mashed together. Even though his hands were angled away from me, I know that they were clenched. Even though he doesn't want to show that he's dissapointed, I know that he is.

"I know."

The deafening silence streched on and on and on. I wish that he would just open his chatterbox of a mouth.

He finally says something after two minutes of tense stillness, but he does not face me.

"How long will you be gone this time?"

"...I have to shoot next week's episode in an abandoned hospital located at the outskirts of Sapporo."

"Do you have to go?"

"..."

"How long will you be gone?" he repeated, turning around to face me with furious azure intensity.

I don't know. "Only a few days."

"You are a terrible liar."

"I know."

It was less than twenty-four hours later that my own personal pandemonium ensued.

"I sense only two prominent spirits lurking here. One is sucking the lesser spirits' enery force, while the other one is protecting them," I droned, punching my hands into the front pockets of my jeans.

Tuning out everyone else was an effective strategy when I was actually eyeing the malevolent force while these idiots frolicked about with their film equipment. This is so troublesome. I can't believe I agreed to doing this when I can be home right now with...

"And that's a wrap! Great job everyone!" A thunder-like clap signalling the end of the day, which is kind of apt because it's already way past sunset, and everyone was dead tired.

"Miss, you have a phone call. It's your mother."

My mother? What does she want now? It's bad enough that she's forcing me to do this. I bet she has another 'opportunity' for me.

"Dear, where are you?" asked the scratchy voice from over the line. "It's your best friend, honey. He was beaten by thugs after he bought something from a hewelry shop. He's currently in the operating room. The doctors say that he has fractured his skull and..."

I tune her out. I tune everyone out even as they ask me what's wrong, what happened, if I am fine. I don't know the answers to their questions.

It was the next day when the train ultimately dropped me at the Tokyo station.

Alone, I took a cab from my drop point to the hospital. I knocked a lady away from the vehicle a while ago. She sweared at me with three different languages.

Once we stopped, I threw my whole wallet at the driver. Once I'm out of the elevator, I threw myself at my mother. She was sobbing hysterically.

"Dear, you're too late."

No.

"Dear, he's gone."

NO.

"He left this for you."

A small thumb-sized fugure rests on my mother's outstretched hand. It was a doll wearing a traditional kimono.

It looks exactly like me.

"This was one of the things he was keeping from the thugs who k-ki..." Mother cries again.

What's the other one? I mentally ask, not trusting my voice. Somehow, she heard me.

She handed me a necklace mutely. It had a simple ring as a pendant. The outside of the ring had no designs, no patterns. It was a simple band.

Inside, three words were embedded.

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A/N: Who the female character in this one is pretty obvious, don't you think? I consider this story as a peek into her past, so does it count as canon? Maybe even canon-ish? The guy is an OC.