I'm not stubborn, I muse stubbornly to myself, I'm just being realistic.
Those families that lost their kids and loved ones don't get a movie dedicated to their struggles. Hell, they're still struggling. It's been how many years, and the homeless population is still how high? Wanna change the world, Watanabe-sensei? Find a way to save those people, I'm not important.
You don't just fall in love. You don't just hit a lightbulb swinging outside and find your destiny; destiny is nothing but a fat word white men through around when they didn't have anything else to philosophize about. That's it. Don't lie to yourself.
And think about it. How many people are alive today? How many people have lived all-together, in the timespan of mankind? Too many to count, if you ask me. This overpopulation problem is really getting on my nerves.
And of all of those people, past, present, and future, how many are going to have their names remembered? Are going to actually contribute to society? A dozen? A hundred? What's the ratio then, one-to-one-billion? Why bother caring if its not going to happen.
I sigh and gaze out across the neighborhood. Classmates are all over the place, crawling and guffawing at every little thing like scattered ants. Some wave at me, and I walk on.
That's all, isn't it? We're all just walking forward and backward and sideways and inside out. We just walk on and on until we can't walk, then we have some poor sap push us around.
That's life. Its hell. Its hell waiting to happen, and here we are, pretending everything's okay.
I could'ov sworn that on a Wednesday most people head out to do stuff… you know, things that friends do. But instead they're all milling around my neighborhood. Of all the places, you choose this? Seriously you guys, life must be boring if there's something going on over here.
I try sauntering past – the shoreline isn't all too far away – but my curiosity gets the better of me. I pause at the corner of my street and lean on the post to my right. If I can… can stretch… can stretch my senses just far enough…
At first, all I can hear is the insects crawling in the hedge beside me. Then, the sound of cars whistling by turns into screams. With every expanse I poor into my ears, a little strength is pulled from everything else. My feet and hands grow numb, and I can no longer feel my nose.
But now its people – yes, I can hear their voices! – that fill my inner ear. Excited heart rates and hands wringing backpack straps echo around me, but that's not what I want. Sorry, but I'm a snooper: I want to know what those preps are talking about… if only I could… hear them better…
"Oh god, it looks like it was just a little while ago."
"I heard the victim is the brother of someone at school."
"Oh god, that sucks."
"Its weird though, the last time a killer was in town was, like, fifteen, sixteen years ago. What brought this on?"
Oh gosh. It looks like someone did something stupid, again. I totally get it if you're having problems with your life, but honestly? Don't go dragging others into it. That's just selfish. I hone my ears a little harder to expand my hearing beyond those girls. Farther… farther… and I can hear an officer's car was left running.
Odd, it's almost near-
"Who's going to tell her? Did someone call her from school? She looks a little sick."
"Well, I'm not telling her. She's weird."
"Come on you guys, she doesn't look okay."
"Leave her be, we gotta go anyway. It's sad but its not the end of the world."
Oh my god.
Oh my god.
Oh my god.
"Hashimoto?"
I tear my eyes open, senses rearranged back to their natural ways. I drop as I flash-flood myself with my senses again, and kind hands reach down to catch me.
But I catch myself, and I blindly stare my company down.
No.
No.
No! No nononononononononono! This isn't happening!
"Hashimoto-chan, are you okay?"
Oh god. My eyes feel fuzzy. I see nothing but stars.
She leans me against the post, to which I cling to for life.
Why is this happening?!
"Hashimoto-chan, why don't we sit do-"
She doesn't finish, or I don't hear her. Its one of the two, and I don't care which.
This isn't happening, not to me. I don't remember running, but I can feel my feet pounding against the ground. I don't remember dropping my backpack, but the only thing I can feel on my back is the wind blowing my further and faster up the hill to my house. I can feel my lungs shriveled and weak like a newborn's, ready to bawl my eyes out but physically unable to.
That run took forever, and yet not long enough. My arms pump furiously beside me.
Someone reaches out to grab me, to stop me, but they can't. I might have punched them, or I might have simply broken free of their grasp.
I can hear several people saying things, but none of them make sense. They don't register to my ears.
"Don't let her in there!"
"Who let her past the barricades?"
"Does she live here? Grab that girl!"
None of their buzz registers with me; the only true sound is my blood bleeding from my ears.
I freeze when I enter my home, my vandalized home. I stop in the doorway because that was more than close enough.
I see red. I see nothing but red staining my mom's stupid Persian rug. There's red on the walls, all over Dad's stupid awards. There's some red on the damn plant in the corner, and the ceiling. Everything is red. Everything is stupid, stupid red.
I fall. I don't remember hitting the ground.
.
.
.
Originally, this was a one-shot with Archer from Fate/Stay Night Unlimited Blade Works.
I now have the entire plot outlined and detailed. I've spent a lot of time on this, and I originally thought this was going to be a drag to write.
Oh, how wrong I've been :). Things are picking up, and you'll be seeing some familiar faces soon. So please, stick around and comment as well as contact me! (For easiest contact I suggest Tumblr) Enjoy!