―oo4.

Genre: SciFi, Angst, Tragedy

Rating: T

Words: 1545

Summary: Her thoughts refusing to tear away from his perfect eyes, his long hair, and the way he makes her smile, she willed the day to pass by. But at the same time, she didn't.

Notes: Hey, if any of you are still reading this, I'd LOVE it if you went to my profile and took my poll. (I suffer from writing style inconsistency and inspiration deficiency, if you took the poll, it would really really help.)

Title: Android

"Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart."

― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

He smiled and she returned the gesture, feeling happy until reality came crashing down onto her for the umpteenth time. Almost immediately, her face fell, morphing into a look of suffering.

"Is there something the matter, Rima-san?" he asked as he set down a cup of tea in front of her.

"Chan," Rima said in a barely audible voice.

"Pardon?"

"Nagihiko," her voice cracked while pronouncing his name, "I've told you to call me 'Rima-chan.' "

"Forgive me, my lady," he said, "How are you feeling, Rima-chan?"

She looked at him, eyes unreadable, yet there was no point in concealing her feelings; he couldn't see her emotions, not like before.

"I-I'm fine," she stammered. She waited for him to say 'are you sure?' like he always had, but it never came. He was back to cooking breakfast and she felt tears well up in her eyes.

In attempt to rid herself of tears, she banged her forehead against the dining table. The impact caused the table to shake, and the teacup tipped over. Earl grey tea spilled over the tabletop, leaking into her long, curly blonde hair and dripping down onto her clothes. She stayed like that.

Suddenly, a cloth brushed against her, soaking up the sticky liquid. It wiped everything away efficiently, even patting dry her clothing. Rima began to shake even more.

"I-I'm going to my room to change," Rima mumbled as she abruptly stood up from the table, knocking Nagihiko's hand out of the way.

"Okay!" Nagihiko said, smiling brightly as Rima trudged away, not the slightest bit disturbed.

When she arrived to her room, Rima slammed her door closed, falling face down on her bed, disregarding her tea stains, and proceeded to bury herself in her pillows and weep.

The Nagihiko outside her door wasn't really him. No, nothing could ever be even close to the real Nagihiko Fujisaki.

She wept, mourning. She wept, in self-pity. She wept for the man miles away under his grave.

For the Nagihiko outside her door was nothing but a robot.
. ... .

"Good afternoon, Rima-san!" he exclaimed with unwavering enthusiasm.

Rima flicked her head up at him, eyes tinged slightly pink. "Hi," she said.

"I called your work to say you were sick," he informed.

"Oh."

"Do you want a cup of tea?" he asked pleasantly and Rima had to resist the urge to strangle the non-breathing inanimate version of Nagihiko. That's not what Nagihiko would say, she thought, Nagi would tell me 'you're welcome' no matter what I said. A frown molded Rima's face as she looked at his perfect hazel eyes and his silky, long, violet hair. She waited for him to tell her to smile, but there was no such gesture, only the happy chirping of the to-do list. Maybe Amu's right, Rima bitterly reasoned, maybe this will hurt more than it worth. But quickly, that thought was shaken away. No, anything without Nagihiko was worse than a replacement. Anything and everything, she convinced herself. Soon, any wavering thoughts were swept strategically from her mind as she convinced herself that he was real. That Nagihiko was still alive.

She pasted a smile on her face, one not unlike the ones she used around her fanboys during her early adolescence. She fooled herself; the pain resided, waiting for another time to resurface.

She knew, yet refused to believe, and maybe it was one of those cases where it was true that the worst lies were the ones you told yourself.
. ... .

The resounding ding of her doorbell drifted through her bedroom door. Maybe today won't end up being just completely moping, Rima thought as she begrudgingly dragged herself from her warm covers. She clicked her door open and peeked out of her halls, hoping to avoid 'Nagihiko' in the trek to the intercom. Her hair was a mess, but Rima decided that if someone who needed her to dress properly was waiting outside her home, then she would not let them in. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that her android was nowhere in sight and opened her door wider so she could enter the hallway. This isn't how it should be, her conscious tugs at her, you shouldn't be afraid of going walking through your own halls. You should be smiling that Nagihiko is here, happy that he's here. She squashed her thoughts and forced herself to quicken her pace to reach the intercom near her doorway.

Unexpectedly, she bumped into Nagihiko, hitting her forehead on his hard, cold chest. She rubbed her head and stared at the spot she hit her head; this happened before, with the real one, and he was warm, soft, and smelled like tree bark. He wasn't supposed to be hard and his smiles were supposed to have reason to them.

"Are you okay, Rima-san?" He smiled, but as much it was bright, it wasn't comforting.

"Chan..." she whispered to herself, knowing it was futile; 'Nagihiko' was programmed to use 'san' with everyone and no amount of demanding otherwise would undo the little glitch. Her heart clenching, she slipped around him, reaching for the intercom button as Nagihiko went away to finish the chores around her house.
. ... .

"Everyone's worried sick about you," Amu said in her best coaxing voice, "You need to do more than go straight back and forth from work to home."

Rima slipped Amu a cup of tea before settling down on a dining table chair herself. She slouched back and let her tired eyes bore into Amu's. Her head was tilted down in a slightly dejected way and she opened her mouth to speak, only to close it when she found no words to say.

Amu, sensing her friend was in pain, go up from her seat across from Rima and went over to embrace her in a hug. I'm not going to cry, Rima told herself, I've cried for months and nothing will change if I do.

In the next moment, she disobeyed her internal commands and sobbed into her friend's arms. She sobbed, knowing that the fake Nagihiko was in the room next door, dusting her study desk and bookshelf, registering the sobs, but making no move to come over and comfort her. He wasn't human and she felt her heart cracking at every look she cast in his direction, but she couldn't do anything else. She wouldn't dare, couldn't dare, to cast him away and face the reality that Nagihiko would never come back.
. ... .

Her heart shattered. She wasn't entirely sure what was wrong with her that day, it was like any other: she grimaced when she saw him, did her best to go out to go to work and eat all her meals, but something was wrong. Something today made her break and she didn't know what.

I do know, the depths of her mind whispered, betraying her as she spiraled down into deeper agony, I do know what's wrong with me today.

It was the same reason why she insisted whirling machine shaped like Nagihiko had to address her as 'Rima-chan' more stubbornly than other days, the same reason Amu came by to plead, even though she hadn't for a long time, seemingly have given up. The same reason why she refused to look at the time, but kept careful watch of the drop of temperatures in the house that could tell her the time of day it was. She wanted this day to end, yet she didn't. She wanted to savor it as much as she wanted to make it pass as soon as possible.

The soft sound of a machine broke the silent chaos of Rima's mind. Nagihiko walked in her room and started to pick up the tiny items she had strewn all over the floor in attempt to clean her lived-in room. She tentatively lifted her heads from the covers she threw herself into once Amu had left her home. She noticed with watery eyes and a never-ending ache of her heart that the fake looked the same as the real one when he bent down and gracefully put things back into place.

Then, he reached under her bed and pulled an item out, causing Rima's already, shattered, aching heart to disintegrate into even smaller pieces as her mind whispered, I can't take it anymore.

She caught sight of the date on the calendar, the tick marks that crossed out each day that had already passed making it easy for her to identify what day it was.

She cried. Just like she had so much earlier that day. She cried as her heart screamed out that she loved him. She finally figured out that she loved him and she just let herself lose him.

He was gone and it was all her fault. She loved him, but she couldn't protect him, couldn't gaze upon his face or tease him ever again.
. ... .

June 4, 2015. One month before his would-be 20th birthday.

The day, where he, a year ago, was a victim to a car accident when Rima was driving.

Notes: I hope you guys liked it; I was really sad while writing this. I'm terrible at SciFi, but I gave it a try and ended up breaking my own heart by adding tragedy to the mix.
Thanks for your time a please tell me what you think.