Title: Whether You Fall
Chapter 3: The Archive of Our Failure
Characters are not mine I am Just borrowing.
Poetry is mine.
Shoujo-ai content.
Rain pours down washing away yesterday
The sun and the blue sky
The stars fade behind the night clouds
And the song of sleep is far from my mind
I can hear rivers rushing just outside
And the light that shines from my window
Shadows the dark night
Deep inside my heart sits a waking dream
That is imagined and carried out
In the late hours of the night
Shiori held out her umbrella as Wakaba parted from her boyfriend so that she could go watch the fencing practice for the day. It was a Friday and the first good autumn rain was coming down in a fierce torrent. As she watched the parting between boyfriend and girlfriend a reflection from the past rose in Shiori's memory. And just beyond that memory there was Ruka, mocking her with a grin that seemed to say, "I won't let you have what you want. You still have crimes to pay for."
She hated the way his ghost snuck up on her.
Shiori grinned and as she and Wakaba walked along Shiori said, "He seems like a nice guy."
"What?" Wakaba looked over her shoulder at Tatsuya's retreating form. "Oh, yeah."
"Nice guys are hard to find."
"You never dated a nice guy?" Wakaba grinned, trying to be playful.
"One nice guy," Shiori said softly, and then said, "And one guy that…he might have been a nice guy somewhere inside. He just couldn't be a nice guy to me."
"Oh."
The conversation died there.
Overall, Shiori felt as if she were being rather noble about the entire situation. It was only in reflection that she found that she wasn't as noble as she thought she was. She kept thinking that she could break Wakaba and her boyfriend up, and then she would feel guilty for not wishing her friend well. She wanted Wakaba to be happy. She wanted to believe that as long as she knew a girl like Wakaba was out there she could be happy. She didn't need a happy ending. But that felt like utter bullshit, some days. It wasn't enough just knowing Wakaba was out there. It wasn't enough just being friends when all Shiori really wanted to do was swoop in and give Wakaba an honest to God kiss.
There was, somewhere in her being, a voice that told her she was just being friendly so that she could eventually get what she wanted. She hated that voice. She hated that thought, because anyone who thought Shiori was just being nice so that she could get in Wakaba's pants wasn't paying attention. Shiori wanted to be friends. She wanted things to work out. It wasn't just about getting what she wanted. If that were the case she never would have stayed friends with Wakaba after she found out about the boyfriend.
She took a deep breath as the fencing hall came into view. She was in desperate need to blow off some steam and think about something other than her romantic troubles. Sometimes she was certain love was wasted on girls her age. Everything felt so much more dramatic than it probably was, desperate, longing, aching, and ultimately silly. That her feelings should feel so true and yet so absurd boggled her. There had to be an easier way to handle it all.
I've written verses that I regret
False confessions I thought I had meant
But the years change my mind
And I think this time
I understand all the things those lines tried to say
Written in metaphor'd decay
Written on false hope and teenage dreams
Why does it come too late
The answer to our childish schemes
"You haven't been sleeping." Juri said as she leaned into a set of lockers.
Shiori sighed, shut her locker, and then rested her head against the cool metal door. "I know, I know. I was awful today. Tripping over my own feet."
"You're going to end up with a sprained ankle."
Shiori looked over at Juri and then shook her head. She stood upright and asked, "What do you suggest? You've always been an insomniac."
"Normally, lots of exercise, no caffeine, and a hot shower, but…"
"But?" She arched an eyebrow.
"You still haven't discussed things with your friend have you?"
"Juri?"
"I'm just saying it might help to get some of your feelings off your chest." Juri said calmly. "Besides you don't have the same constitution I do. You won't last much longer if you keep it up."
Shiori scowled and then asked, "What does that mean, exactly?"
"You're moments away from having an emotional hissy fit. And I know because I remember that time in fifth grade wh-"
"Okay!" She said louder than she meant to. "Okay, I get the point."
"Good."
"Don't act so smug. It isn't as if you've done anything about the girl you like." Shiori said as she brushed passed Juri leaving the locker room.
Juri shook her head and whispered, "I've only let her go again and again. Oh, Arisugawa, you do need to get over yourself."
Entangled in the dark of my dreams
Sometimes I see further than I should
And then I wake snaked between my sheets
Wishing they were you
Entangled in the dark of my dreams
Sometimes I forget that you are closer than you seem
And then waking covered in my sheets
I wish you weren't you
Wakaba looked out of her window and tried to think of a good reason to leave her room. She wasn't sure where she would be going except that after she considered it for a while she realized that was a lie. She knew where she wanted to be going. She wanted to show up at Shiori's door and then…And then the thought ceased because she didn't want to leap over what she saw as a major line in the sand that would ruin everything else.
She found herself wishing that Tatsuya didn't like Shiori, but he did. He found her rather agreeable and an interesting companion during the lunch hours Shiori could join them. There was some slight prestige in having an upper classman at her table as well, but that didn't matter to Wakaba. She didn't want prestige. She just wanted to be.
Wakaba shut the curtains and plopped down on her bed. For reasons she couldn't fathom she thought about Utena. She had called Utena her prince, only she had been joking about it, and yet she hadn't been joking at all. There were things she had felt she wanted from Utena that Utena could never return, or acknowledge. It was so frustrating, especially after Utena started hanging around constantly with that Himemiya girl.
It seemed like everyone she liked in a slightly romantic way was oblivious to her true intentions. Except that, well, except that Shiori wasn't exactly oblivious. Shiori seemed to know, but she didn't act, and the why was probably because of Wakaba's own actions. And Tatsuya, Wakaba thought to herself, don't forget about him. It isn't fair to forget about him.
She shut her eyes. No it wasn't fair to forget about him. She took a deep breath and let it out. She had to talk to him. She wasn't being fair to him, and there was so much guilt in the thought of breaking up with him, but there was just as much guilt that accompanied staying with him. Everything was so damn complicated, was it always going to be that way? How did adults handle it?
She didn't know.
There was a knock at her door and for moment she considered ignoring it. She got up and walked over to the door and opened it. Shiori was standing there, smiling slightly, and holding a very damp arrangement of jasmine and baby's breath.
"Oh lord," Wakaba whispered without thinking.
Shiori frowned, but then the door swung open so she entered the room.
"Not in the mood for flowers?" Shiori asked.
"Not really." Wakaba said softly. "You're out and about late."
"I thought we should talk."
"Oh." She reached out and took the small bundle of flowers. They smelled of rain and mud, which was odd. "They're nice." She placed them gently on her desk. "You want to sit?"
"Sure." Shiori looked around and then with nodded permission she took a seat on Wakaba's bed. Wakaba sat down next to her and it was quiet for a long time before Shiori finally said, "We need to talk about this summer."
"We do?"
"We do." She looked into Wakaba's eyes. There was conflict there, doubt and uncertainty. "Um….look…I-"
But without any warning Wakaba kissed her, really kissed her. Shiori hadn't been kissed like that in a very long time.
"Wow," Shiori said once the kiss broke. "Well, that-"
"I can't do this." Wakaba said softly, she looked as if she were going to cry.
"What?"
"I can't be whatever it is you think I should be for you."
"But-"
"I'm sorry." And now Wakaba was crying.
Shiori, baffled and confused, stood from the bed and walked back to the door. "I-"
"Oh, just go!"
And here we are without a happy ending
Here we are without the things we want
What is it tearing us apart
Why can't you just tell me how you feel
Why can't you just give me a clear answer
I can't chase you because you have him
I can't keep writing you poetry because it's tearing my insides apart
But I can't take your rejection at face value
I can't take this sudden burst of denial
Still I have no idea where to go from here
I have no idea what it is you need
To be continued…
