Wings For Mitsuki

>>Renzie>> :D Chapter 9! I've got to say -- I'm really proud of myself for finishing this chapter. It seemed to go by super slow, maybe because this is one of my longer chapters. Most of it will be told from Hinako's POV. The italics, specifically. And just as a quick note, Wings for Mitsuki has hit 60 reviews :D Pretty cool. Thanks, guys. And also the wonderful anonymous reviewers Chibi Ame and Cherri. :) Enjoy.

>>Disclaimer>> I don't(and will never) own Full Moon wo Sagashite and its characters, but wishful thinking is always fun.


Chapter 9: Hinako's Story

He was my only friend... My only inspiration.

The one person I felt that truly cared about me. We used to race up that hill -- the one with fox-tails flailing in all directions. I remember that he was so much faster than me, no matter how big of a head-start I got. He was faster than any other seven-year old boy should've been, for that matter. We both knew it, yet he would always let me catch up. Stopping every minute and pretending to be out of breath?...He would always let me win the race.

Thinking back now, I'm so grateful he was there for me. There was this time when I wanted to run away from home... I was serious as hell, even though I was too young to understand the consequences. With tears running down my cheeks, I kept on insisting. I meant every word that I said that night.

It was such a stupid decision, and he must've known that. But he didn't say no... Never once did he say no.

Instead, he took my hand and we ran down the road with only the moon to guide us. It wasn't like we were prepared in slightest, but we had each other. I guess that was all we really needed.

I can't remember when they found us. Was it three...no, four hours later? He was punished more, of course. But he should've known that when sticking up for me. Taking the blame, when it wasn't his to take.

Then of course there were those nights when we camped out in the living room. He'd tell me all of his stories of where he used to live, or his old school. I thought everything he said was amazing. Every thing he did, everything he knew. Every word that was spoken was so incredibly important to me... Honestly.

But the best times were when we would sit together, silently. Our bodies close, but our friendship closer. We were the infamous pairing... "those inseparable kids." He was my best friend, you know? I know how people say those kind of things so lightly... But if that wasn't friendship, I'll never know what is.

So honestly...believe me when I say it.

I never thought I would've betrayed him.

-

The first time we met was on my 6th birthday.

I was bawling for the longest time until he found me, because of something stupid. I can't remember exactly what it was... maybe my parents had gone out to the store and left me at home by myself, or maybe I was still too short to reach the top drawer.

Whatever the issue was, I felt so lost in that moment. I was confused in the way that little kids are, unable to understand anything going on. I suppose every kid has their moment of sheer terror... that moment where your mind spins out of control and come up with the craziest ideas.

Somehow, I had found my way to Rosemary's Hill, stumbling through clumps of dirt and rotten wood. Eventually, I only made it half-way. I didn't get to the top. I couldn't. So I sat down and cried even more. So much that the world became blurry with tears.

I never even noticed the little boy standing before me.

"What are you doing?" he asked me.

He should've said something more sympathetic...You know, something like "What's wrong?" or "What are you crying?" Somehow, though, his blunt question was enough for me.

In between snot running down my nose and salt-filled tears coursing down my face, I managed to push out some form of an explanation.

"It's all right,"he told me, fiddling with a fox-tail. "Don't cry anymore." I watched as he sat beside me on the moss-covered rock, staring up at the shifting clouds. "I'll be your best friend...so you don't have to be sad."

When I heard those words, my heart felt a little lighter. A little stronger. A little more at ease. I was just glad to have someone on my side. Someone that would just be with me... It was all I really wanted.

So on that cloudy morning, a piece of my heart was reserved for that boy.

-

"Sakamura."

A boy turned around, his dark hair getting in the way of sea-blue eyes. The shinigami brushed it away with annoyance, sighing under his breath. "Chief," he replied.

"Deliver this to Room #311." It was an order. The hooded figure handed a clean envelope to the shinigami, the headquarters seal visible on the back.

Sakamura took it automatically, and snuck a quick glance at the cover. Only one word was printed on the envelope, standing out in bold, black letters.

Hinako.

-

If he hadn't come...if he hadn't sat down beside me, comforting me...would I still be sitting half-way up that hill? Crying silently to myself as the harsh wind picked up against my pale skin? Even now, I have no idea what I would've done...had I not met Dawson.

Dawson Hall...that was his name. A boy who came from America with his family. Brown hair that looked red in the sun, but golden against his pure green eyes. He was seven years old. The one year that he had on me just made him seem even wiser. He knew words that I did not. Like 'ironic' and 'compact.'

We had a connection that I guess you could say is rare in this world... People yearn for it so much that they would die to have a taste...

-

"Was it love?"

Mitsuki leaned in closer, her eyes shining in obvious interest. She had been listening intently for the last ten minutes, soaking in every detail. It made her feel warm inside that Hinako would choose to share her story, since a shinigami's past was something close and personal. In the back of her mind, Mitsuki knew that the story would have an unpleasant ending. It never stopped her from hoping, though.

"I...don't know," said Hinako honestly."Maybe it was... Or maybe love's too complicated to understand." The smile was still visible, but it looked unnaturally tight against Hinako's pale skin. She shrugged lightly, saying, "But who knows, right? ...Maybe in my next life I will."

Mitsuki bit her lip softly in confusion. "In your...next life? But I thought that all Shinigami are..."

"I know," Hinako said. "But maybe the Shinigami World isn't the last stop for us. It's like someone pressed the 'pause' button, and time is just...still. Maybe this isn't a dead end...Maybe there's more."

Mitsuki fingered the bed-spread that she was sitting on and finally allowed her eyelids to flutter closed. Was there more? She wanted to believe that there was...But what would she do with the chance to live again?

All of a sudden, Takuto's face flashed in her mind. She saw his soft smile, and could feel her pulse quickening abruptly. His hand against hers, his hand in hers, that gaze, and those...eyes.

With the chance to live again, what would she do?

What would she do?

"Mitsuki?"

She blinked in a split-moment, and raised a hand defensively to touch her neck. Hinako was staring, and it was a suspicious one too.

Mitsuki waited out the awkward moments, allowing herself to feel embarrassed. In the end, the corners of her mouth twitched upwards. "So I...um, what -- what happened next in the story?"

"...Well,"

-

I remember thinking for the longest time that Dawson had a wonderful life. Mrs. Hall was the kindest woman I've ever known -- even to this day. She had a chronic smile on her face, that it soon became contagious.

Dawson's older sister, Ami, was smart and beautiful and everything else I longed to be. Unlike other siblings, the two rarely fought. And even then, it was only over trivial things.

Dawson had family. He had friends. He had a home, love, and care.

But I never knew that Dawson was abused.

-

Today, he concluded, was not a good day.

For eight hours, Sakamura had been boxed in a musty office with a flickering bulb and no windows. Hell, there hadn't even been decent wallpaper. So when the Shinigami had been given a task that didn't involve straining his eyes on fine, black print...well, he was pretty satisfied. For the first time in a while, he took his damn sweet time walking through the hallway grounds. The Shinigami was in no rush to return to that cramped-up office.

The envelope he was holding was neatly sandwiched between his thumb and fore-finger. Every now and then it reminded Sakamura of where he was going to: Hinako's dorm.

Now there were many things that came to his mind when he thought 'Hinako'... Annoying, for one. Immature. Idiotic... Really, the possibilities were endless. But there was one particular moment that Sakamura's mind rewound to where Hinako expressed none of these qualities. It was during the week before, when Hinako had cornered him in the hallway and confronted him with a question.

"Are you always this mean to Mitsuki?"

His answer had been 'No.' After all, it was the truth. There was just something about Kouyama Mitsuki that he couldn't explain. A tweak or twinge in her personality that made her different from all the others, and that made his heart wobble. Sakamura had been mulling over it for a while now, and now he believed to have finally figured out why.

...She made him want to be different. She made him want to confess everything wrong with his life. He wanted to protect her, to embrace her. Was that so wrong? It was such a different feeling and he didn't know what to think of it. Mitsuki made him want to become something better.

To change.

He knew that much. He also knew that when he had seen her through the glass of the apartment window...when he had seen her there laughing with her subject, Takuto whatever-his-name-was, Sakamura's chest felt like it had been tightly bandaged -- throbbing with every moment passed.

He'd heard about this feeling. Probably from a bunch of girly teenagers, but he had heard of it nonetheless...

Love.

But...oh please. That puppy-eyed, soul-sucking, holiday-devoted, despairing emotion that the world had become victim to?

He would pass.

Love was bad news... And even if, in some alternate universe, he was feeling the emotion for a certain brown-eyed girl, it would only get in the way of his duties as a Shinigami.

Sakamura scowled under his breath, walking a little more forcefully on the innocent tiled floor.

And to pile more shit on the concept, Hinako had accused him of being jealous! Well...okay, so that was a lie. She'd hadn't actually accused him... But he swore that she was thinking it, with that maniacal little smirk on her face...

But he most certainly was not jealous... Never. Besides...what could love possibly do for Sakamura besides give him another reason to remorse when it failed?

'Nothing,' he told himself bitterly. 'Absolutely nothing.'

If he could only stop thinking about her...if he could just stop caring about her...

...But at this point, it seemed impossible.

-

At age six, I didn't understand what the word 'abuse' meant... All I knew was that Dawson had blotches of purple on his face -- things that they called bruises. Some days it was worse than others, but I never bothered. I assumed it was nothing...he had probably just slipped down a hill. The purple marks gradually disappeared, so I though maybe his mom had told him to stop being so rough. Dawson would be okay, I told myself. Dawson wouldn't get hurt anymore.

I didn't expect to be wrong. A little girl usually doesn't.

It happened on a foggy morning, just like the day Dawson and I had first met. My 7th birthday was around then, which would mark our one-year friendship. I can't believe it ended so soon.

I was skipping along the short walk to his house, and the only thing I could hear was my feet brushing against the ground. It was normally a pretty empty road, but even the wind was silent that day. But as I drew closer to Dawson's house, I began to hear the sound of a piano being played inside. It's melody was soft and sweet, and I bobbed my head along to the notes.

Mrs. Hall, I thought with a smile.

I stood at the doorstep like I had done a million times over. The rugged mat beneath my feet was so old that the 'Welcome' sign was hardly visible. I dug my toe into the 'W,' hoping to revive it.

Muffled voices in the background stopped me from petting the mat any further. It sounded like Dawson and his father, so I smiled. I didn't even think about how violent the conversation sounded.

Clutching the doorknob, I let myself in.

I think that in that very moment, it finally occurred to me in the back of mind that something was off. Something was wrong.

I could feel my face prickling with that... sensational feeling you get. That feeling of knowing something's going to happen next, but not knowing at the same time.

I would've never guessed.

I entered the room to see Dawson was on the floor, his face burried in the ground. His father yelled something. Brutal, harsh, but I couldn't make it out. Something wet and messy was all over Dawson's cheeks as he looked up at me, his eyes desperate.

Tears, I thought... Were those tears? I had never seen Dawson cry in all the time that I'd known him. But...he was now. I saw it, even if he didn't want me to. I saw it, and I'll never forget... The look on his face made me want to cry instead.

I thought I heard Dawson call out my name. A quick 'Hinako' that disappeared into thin air.

Maybe it sounded so faint because I was already backing away. I could only concentrate on the ringing in my head, and the piano. The song started to pick up speed, and Mrs. Hall's fingers jabbed quickly at the keys. The cheerful sound was long gone -- replaced by a bitter bridge in the song. She probably couldn't hear her husband beating her son over all the music...she was lost in the music. But if she hadn't been playing piano at that moment, what would've happened? Would she be lying on the ground, motionless as well?

It wasn't until I felt the moisture seeping through my sun dress that I realized I was crying. I didn't know what to do. Things started blurring out of proportion, and the curse words were scaring me. I didn't know what most of them meant, but it felt like I wasn't hearing anything else. I wasn't sure if it was from tears, or from the wave of nausea, or just that moment of me witnessing everything. Things that had gone wrong with Dawson's life, and the things I had never noticed.

Mr. Hall was leaning down towards Dawson's throat, but that was the last thing I saw. I turned on my heels and ran.

I know what you're thinking. Dawson would've given his life for me, yet I couldn't repay the favor.

Instead of jumping to defend the only person I'd ever cared about...Instead of protecting the person who I'd sworn to stay with forever...

Instead of anything, I ran.

God, I ran so fast. It's hard to remember now, but I just...I felt like if I just pushed a little further, then maybe I could lift myself into the air and fly to a place where nobody would find me.

Little flashbacks kept on dancing in my head... I heard his mother's fingers flying across the piano, the sharp notes quickening like rain. I heard yelling, screaming...most of them Dawson's. My heartbeat thumped against my skin and the slick wind whipped across my face. My feet were growing tired.

Too tired to fly, I thought. Too tired to do anything, but I still keep running away from the one I loved.

It was a moment and a mistake that I would never forget.

Guilt would never let me.

-

Sakamura let his gaze flicker to the ground as Hinako's story came to a close.

Something malicious was twisting inside his gut and slowly making it's way deeper. Why the hell would Hinako...? The shinigami let his own question die out, not particularly wanting to finish it.

For once, Sakamura had been the one to eavesdrop. And now he wished that he had slipped the envelope beneath the doorway and turned on his heels. Overhearing Hinako's conversation had only enlightened him to how tragic her life was. How stupid that she had to die... When he thought about it, Hinako didn't deserve to be a Shinigami -- advocate of death. She didn't deserve to be punished.

He clenched the letter in his fist and leaned against the solid door. It felt cold through the fabric of his shirt, but the boy was too angry to notice. Riled up, but he didn't know why. An unexplainable rage slowly filling up inside...

Was it for Hinako? Or was it because Sakamura realized that once again, there was another person gone by with a false smile on their face. Another person who would pretend to smile through it all, no matter what was thrown their way.

Hinako and Mitsuki...they were alike more than they realized.

Sakamura swallowed, his shoulders tensing up unnaturally... He just wanted to get away.

Shoving the envelope beneath the door, the shinigami strode away from the door before he had the chance to hear anything else.


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