Ringing. The high-pitched, twangy sort of ring that rockets through your eardrums and blocks out every kind of sound. The ringing that you only experience when you don't want to hear what someone is saying. When you can't bear to hear it. Hence the expression: "his words fell on deaf ears."
Deaf ears were exactly the kind that Director Hiro Tengen's words were filtering through. He tilted his head and tried to make eye contact with the actress he was speaking to. Or rather, speaking at. She hadn't moved a muscle since he'd first started talking. When he finally managed to catch her gaze, it was empty and hollow, but not like it usually was. This time, it looked deep and cavernous, like whatever life that usually filled the icy irises had been gouged out.
"Akai?" He called out, actually starting to panic a little. "Akai!" He grasped the redhead's shoulder and felt a violent shudder rack through her body before her eyes jumped up to his, the animation returning to them, albeit a little shallower than usual.
"I-I'm sorry…" Her words ghosted out of her lips, like she hadn't really spoken them, they'd just come out of reflex.
"What happened there, Akai?" He asked, trying to catch her rapidly averting eyeline. "Are you alright? Do you need to lay down or something?"
No, no...I'm alright. I was just a little...surprised by your proposition just then. That's all. We can continue." Sai wasn't alright, though. His suggestion had come as much more than a simple surprise. She could barely force herself to keep the conversation going, but she knew she had to. Saiyuka Akai had no problems with what he was suggesting. It wasn't her that struggled with all of this. Saiyuka Akai was normal. But she was not. Asami just wasn't alright. Not anymore.
Tengen cleared his throat again, unsure of what to make of the situation, but he continued nonetheless. "Well...as I was saying. We've come to a decision about how Himeko is going to make her exit from the show. You'll still come back on every now and again, in flashbacks and dreams and whatnot, but she doesn't serve a purpose now that Toshiro is with Emi and you're no longer a romantic interest. You've wrecked your havoc and set up a lot of good plot, but you're just dragging your friends down to a level they don't deserve to be at. The best, most impactful thing to do with Himeko at this point is to kill her off, yes?"
Sai swallowed heavily. She didn't want to do a death scene. She'd never done a death scene. And certainly none like this. "Yes, sir. That makes perfect sense."
"But we can't just have her get hit by a bus, or something. And this isn't a suspense drama, so she can't be murdered…which leaves…"
"Suicide. Yeah, that would be impactful alright…" The actress said bitterly, doing everything she could to restrain her disgust on the topic. She'd held it together this time. It had just thrown her for such a loop the first time through that she'd lost her control for a split second. This wasn't a good topic for her. Never has been. Never will be.
"Yes…" Tengen said hesitantly, watching the talent carefully. She was deliberately masking herself, though. That alone told him that she wasn't comfortable with the idea. No one was supposed to be. It was a heavy topic. But it suited the situation in terms of character development and would be the climax of the fourth season. It was perfect in writing, but it sometimes laid waste to an actor's emotional state. Suicide death scenes were easily some of the most draining, emotional, and raw scenes you could ever shoot. But if anyone was good at those kinds of scenes...it was Sai.
"So...what do think?" He asked her finally, after waiting for her to say anything in response, but getting nothing. Not even a blink.
Instantly, those blue orbs were back to staring at the ground. He watched her ribcage expand purposefully and realized she was taking a slow, deep breath. "Yes. I'll do it. But not today. I...need some time...to prepare." She choked out. He winced when he realized she was actually close to tears.
"Of course…" He said, already noting the change in the schedule. He couldn't possibly force her to do this that day. It was clearly a touchy subject and he was grateful she'd agreed in the first place. He only hoped she didn't flake out when she realized it was too hard of an issue for her to face on her own.
Without saying anything else, the redhead drifted away, her mind focused entirely on other things. She drifted aimlessly through the main studio and past several rather concerned coworkers.
"Ah, Ms. Akai…" The low, soft voice drifted in one ear and out the other, leaving the actor who had just called out to her standing a bit unnerved as she began to drift past him. Her eyes were unfocused. Her mouth kind of open, hanging unceremoniously there. The muscles around her neck were tensed and scared. She looked positively defeated.
He reached out for her as she got close enough and caught her arm, "Ms. Ak-uh...Sai." He cleared his throat and used her first name. "Sai, are you alright?" He actually had to squeeze her arm to make her stop moving. Slowly, her eyes roved up to his and she hummed softly before seeming to drift off again. Drift off somewhere dark. Somewhere lonely. Somewhere desolate and empty. Somewhere he could never reach her.
Panic rose in his throat for reasons he wasn't really aware of, and he gripped her by her shoulders and shook her once with force. "Sai, are you listening to me?"
The sudden movement jolted the redhead and she blinked twice, her vision finally focusing on the man in front of her. His eyes scanned her face desperately, his mouth open in surprise and his eyebrows dipping deep down in concern. Slowly, the blackness that had been creeping in at the corners of her vision receded and she let go of the breath she'd been holding in.
"Ah...Ren…" She said, her voice lazy and quiet, the actor's name slipping through her lips like a warm breath or a gentle breeze.
"Sai…?" He let go of her shoulders and leveled his gaze to hers.
"I'm okay now. Really." She insisted before he could say anything. "I'm sorry for worrying you, really I am. I promise I'm fine." She wasn't sure how true that statement was. On one hand, she seemed fine. She could see now, she wasn't dizzy anymore, and her head wasn't spinning. On the other hand...she seemed a bit too numb.
Her thoughts refused to focus on anything, lest they turn to the dark abyss that she'd fallen into moments before. She couldn't seem to feel anything, really...as if she'd completely deactivated herself to avoid a total meltdown.
Ren narrowed his eyes and grit his teeth together. He knew she wasn't fine. "Don't think you can lie to me like that anymore. I can see that you're not okay. Can't you just tell me what's-" He reached out to cup her cheek with his hand only for her to flinch away violently and look up at him with wide, almost scared eyes. He shut himself up immediately and lowered his hand, just watching her for any other sign of reaction.
The silence was starting to ring in Sai's head. It was deafening and terrifying and everything seemed to vibrate and move around her. She couldn't focus on anything. Distantly, she was aware of a slight pressure on her cheek that shot a painful arc of electricity through her body and she jerked away from it to relieve the intense feeling.
Her head was spinning. Her chest was too tight. Too tight. She couldn't breathe. She was trapped again. Just like she was back then. Trapped and teetering over a cliff whose edge just kept crumbling, falling away from underneath her. And eventually, eventually, there wouldn't be anything underneath her. Nothing to hold her up. No more ground to stand on. And she'd fall. She'd fall just like she-
"Saiyuka…!" The word warbled through her mind, ripping her away from the spiral she'd fallen into again and shattering the rapidly scrolling images in her mind that were steadily breaking her apart. "Sai, please!" The ringing died down more, her ears finally able to separate the static of her own mind from the sounds of reality.
Those icy, foggy eyes roved upwards, and slowly the color began to clear, like clouds rolling away from an arctic sky. "Sai…?" Ren questioned, reaching out for her unconsciously all over again and brushing hair out of her face. Her brow was incredibly sweaty and she was paler than he'd ever seen her. Sickly pale. Her breathing was labored and she looked like she could drop any second.
"I...have to go." Her voice sounded very far away. Like she was whispering from a different room entirely. She slipped away from him and he tried in vain to grab at her arm. Before she knew it, she was running. The man behind her was rapidly getting closer, his long strides carrying him and his heightening worry fueling his speed.
He swiped at her arm again and she whirled around, her eyes wide and terrified, spilling over with tears that certainly hadn't been there moments before. She evaded his grasp yet again and dashed into the front parking lot, swinging her leg over her bike before he had a chance to reach her again. He watched helplessly and she shot onto the street, heading down the road to her apartment without another word.
"Ren?" He heard from behind him, the voice quiet and worried. He turned around and found his manager standing by the doors, looking at him with concern. "What are you doing out here? People saw you sprinting down the hall...are you alright?"
Ren raised his hand to his head and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I'm fine...it's just…"
"Is it Ms. Saiyuka?" Yashiro asked hesitantly, watching his charge struggle with more emotions than he'd seen in a long time.
"Something's wrong with her...she's freaking out about something but she won't tell me. Or she couldn't tell me. It was like she wasn't really here, and when I spoke she didn't really hear me."
"You're scared for her, aren't you?" He grimaced and held open the door for Ren, who sent one last glance down the road and then came inside. "Maybe she's just nervous for yet another strange role, you know how she frets over her character-"
"It's not that simple this time. She looked...haunted. Terrified of something. And she ran away from me. She just...bolted." He ran a hand down his face. "I've never seen her like that before, Yukihito…"
"Give her a call tonight, then. Talk to her. Figure out what's wrong." He suggested, walking down the quickly emptying hallways.
The actor considered this for a moment before deciding it was probably his best course of action. He proceeded to drop off his manager and head home, something gnawing at him all the while. Once inside his apartment, he dropped off his belongings and flipped open his phone.
"Come on, come on…" He mumbled under his breath, "Pick up." The dial tone sounded over and over again in his ear and he was met with the robotic voice of her messaging system twice.
"Oh, screw this…" Instantly, he was back out of the door and heading to his car. This wasn't sitting with him right. He couldn't just leave her alone. And if she wasn't answering her phone, maybe she'd answer her door.
Before he really knew what happened, he was standing facing her front door. He slipped inside the foyer and scaled the metal stairs two at a time. Once he was at her apartment's door, he didn't even hesitate for a second before slamming his fist into the yellowed wood. There was no sign of any movement from behind the door. He hit again. And again. And still, no answer.
He could feel the panic in his throat now. It clawed and scratched at his skin until it felt raw and his mouth went dry and a rusty, poisonous taste settled on his tongue. Grabbing his wallet out of his back pocket, he flipped it open and withdrew the keycard the redhead had given him what felt like ages ago. Frantically, he swept it through the faux smoke detector and pushed the door open with his shoulder.
"Saiyuka!" He called out, looking frantically around the dark room. "Saiyuka!" He ripped through her kitchen and dining room, finding that she was nowhere to be found. She wasn't there. But if she wasn't home and she wasn't answering her phone...where was she?
He froze where he stood as his mind filled with the endless amounts of scenarios that could have happened since she sped away on her bike. It only took a few seconds before he was ready to bolt back out the door. Before he could move, though, the tiniest sound shot through the air and stopped him cold.
It was so quiet it was barely audible, but there was no doubt he'd heard it. A sob. Coming from upstairs. He was instantly on the staircase, his legs carrying him up multiple steps at a time. Not even processing that he'd just barged into Sai's bedroom, he rounded the corner at the top and scanned his surroundings looking for the redhead.
"Sai!" He called out, hoping he'd get some sort of response. As it turns out, he got one...but it wasn't as he'd pictured.
"Go...away…!" The words were muffled and came out of a raw throat, ravaged by what could have been hours of crying. Ren immediately focused in on the large closet at the far corner of the room. He was immediately in front of it, pulling the door open with a tinny creak.
Sai sat in the corner, curled into a ball, her legs tucked underneath her, looped by her arms. Her face was completely red, covered by smeared makeup that ran through the streaks still actively slipping through her eyelashes as she blinked. She was an absolute mess, but the worst part of seeing her like this was the looming emotion in her eyes. Terror.
"You...didn't listen…" Her voice cracked pathetically and she raised her hand to wipe her left cheek.
"Of course I didn't. I would never leave you alone like this," he said as if it was obvious. Without waiting for her to reply, he leaned down and put one arm under her knees and the other behind her back. As carefully as he could, he lifted her up and moved her to her bed where he could set her down gently.
Once he let her go, she didn't move. He watched her for a moment and she didn't move. Slowly, he lowered himself until he was sitting next to her, but she still didn't move. He knew he was in serious violation of any usual personal space and was completely invading her privacy, so if she needed a second, she could have it.
It was long into the night that she finally decided she'd had enough time to prepare herself. The actor had been equally as silent, just sitting next to her for hours. Without warning, she finally shifted and brought her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin on her knees.
"The director had an idea for Himeko." She croaked out, surprising the actor who was beginning to doubt she'd ever even move, much less tell him why she'd run into the closet when he'd arrived and hid from him.
He shifted to better see her and positioned himself at a respectful distance while still being mortifyingly aware they were on the redhead's bed together. "Her...death scene, correct?" He ventured, knowing the director had made the announcement about the change of schedule.
"He wants her to commit suicide. Feels like it's the most natural way for her character to go. And he's right. But…"
"You don't agree?"
"No, that's not it…" Sai raised her head up and shook it, her eyes trained where her walls met the light hardwood flooring. "He's right. And the way the scene is written is very realistic and emotional, it's just...I don't know if I'm capable of doing it."
"A death scene? Sai, I'm sure that you could handle a-" He stopped himself right there. This woman knew she was good. She knew she had talent in what she did and she took obvious pride and admiration in it. She would never underestimate herself badly enough to run from the set and have a breakdown in her apartment. No, this was more than that.
"I...can't…I can't jump off that bridge...I can't jump..." Her voice was meek and soft, scratching its way through her throat as she suppressed another sob. Burying her face in her knees, she clenched her fists so hard that they shook, her skin totally white. Ren's hands were instantly over hers, unfurling them so she wouldn't hurt the palms of her hands.
He didn't let go of them, though. He didn't dare. "You can. I know you can. I don't know what you've been through, Sai, but I can tell you that there aren't many people living in this world who can do as much as you can. You're easily one of the most talented people I've ever - I will ever - meet. Even if you can't see how valuable and skilled you are, that's all everyone around you sees.
"They envy, cherish, inspire, adore, and fuel that talent and everyone is dying to see what you're capable next. You're the only one that still thinks you're riddled with failures, and that's all that's holding you back anymore. I think that you can come around to see it our way through Himeko with this scene. It won't be easy on you, but showing that you can willingly submit yourself to that free fall will help you prove to yourself that you're healing, that you're more than you were before."
He paused for a moment, squeezing her hands tightly in his much larger ones. As much as he'd wished she'd been more outright in telling him what was bothering her, he still understood. He knew what she'd done, and how much she must regret it. But he honestly believed in his words. And he knew she did too.
If nothing else, he was just grateful she'd opened up at all. He would give anything to become more of a confidant to her, but for now, this was perfect.
"You're right…" Her voice finally sounded, still warbling and weak, but showing a stronger conviction than before. "If I can't do this in an acting scene, I haven't gotten over it. And I so desperately want to get over with it. I want to move on. I want to grow more, I'm so sick of feeling trapped and helpless…"
"Then prove that you're not. Prove that you're free. That you're improving. Prove that everything you've done these past years has made you who you are. But never for one second think that you'll be up there proving that alone." The actor leveled his gaze with hers. "Everyone you've met as an actress will be up on that stage with you. Rio will be up there with you, Lory and Maria too. I'll be up there with you. And I'll be waiting for you when you're done too. I'll always be here."
Not even really thinking, the redhead flung her arms around the tall man's neck, holding him awkwardly at an angle, but refusing to let go or loosen her grip enough to fix it. And Ren didn't mind that at all. He shifted ever so slightly and brought his own hands up to her back, pulling her even closer and allowing her to press her cheek into his shoulder. The few seconds she remained there, unmoving, breathing just gently enough for it to register through his clothes, those seconds were some of the greatest the actor had experienced in a long time.
When she'd had her fill of comfort, she wiped the rest of the tears from her face and flashed an apologetic smile. "I'm...really sorry I made you come all the way down here. I should have just told you at the studio, but…"
"I understand, Sai, really. You don't need to apologize for it."
"May I thank you instead?" She asked as she led him back down the staircase.
"Of course," he picked up his coat and slung it over his shoulders, turning to find the actress much closer than he'd figured she'd be. Mere inches away, she rose up on her toes and planted a long, soft kiss in the hollow of his cheek. As she pulled away, her lips curled into a smile and a light, dusty color brushed over her cheeks. "Thank you, Ren." She said with a gorgeous flip of the "r" in his name.
He was positive he was blushing a deep, fiery red all the way to his car. She usually wasn't so...affectionate like that. She rarely hugged anyone other than Maria. It even took prompting at her birthday, and then she only gave one to everyone to be polite. She'd never moved like that. And it was impossible to get it out of his head.
She seemed better after his visit, at least...and he could only hope it helped her in some way. That's all he ever wanted to do for her. Luckily for him, he didn't have to wait that long to see that his words had created the potential for one of the greatest scenes he'd ever seen in a drama style broadcast. The very next morning, he swore he witnessed what may as well have been the greatest death scene in his life.
Himeko stared at her bedroom ceiling. There was a stain on the that started in the corner and slid down her wall. There was a gash by her fan that was creating hairline cracks. One light was falling out of its socket. There was dust everywhere. But it was home. And it was the most comforting place she could think of.
Usually. But she'd spent so long just staring at it at this point that it was starting to depress her. She couldn't understand what was happening or why. She'd spent so much of her life making moves on boys off limits to her just to see what faces she could make them make. For whatever reason, this was different.
She hadn't meant to even interact with that boy. He was ignorant, naive, so unsure of himself, and even a copycat. He didn't know how to be unique or show any individuality. He just did as he was asked and nothing more. Nothing more until he met that soccer player. Emi. And then he was different. And then he was desirable.
Only, she had never meant to fall in love with him. It wasn't fair. She was more suited for him than a tanned, daddy's girl ever could be, but he still chose her. He chose that rich, goody-two shoes over her. And suddenly nothing was right anymore. And she didn't think it ever would be.
Her thoughts were interrupted when a sharp ringing ripped up her concentration. She slowly forced her head to move until she could see her landline on her nightstand lit up to signify an incoming call. Inwardly she cringed and heaved a heavy sigh. Not a muscle in her body moved to pick it up.
After the ringing died out, there was a short pause before the loud beep told her someone was about to leave a message. She groaned out loud this time, covering her eyes with her forearms.
"Hey...uh, Himeko...this is Toshiro." She flinched violently at the sound of his voice and curled up on her bed, vibrating softly. "I know you probably don't want to hear from me- I mean, I'm probably the last person you want to...uh, you know what? Nevermind. I just wanted to, you know, make sure you were okay. Haven't seen you for a while. No one has. You don't answer the door. Or your phone, for that matter.
"The girls are worried about you, and uh, well, I'm worried about you. We're getting together this weekend for a concert and we're meeting up at the club. You should, uh, come. We'll act like nothing happened, if it makes you feel better. Or! We could talk it all out, it's a five hour drive so there's plenty of time.
"So, uh, yeah...I just wanted to let you know we're-I'm, I'm thinking about you. I mean, I know that it'll be weird after what happened, but I'm willing to look past it and so is Em, so if that's what's bothering you, it's okay! I just, I don't want you out of my life, you know? You're super cool and you know what to say, you're confident and strong and open minded and, well I've always admired you. Just because we can't be, like, together and stuff...well...that's okay, right? I mean, you're surrounded by guys all the time, so it's not like you're short on action-
"Er...no, that didn't come out right. I'm not trying to call you a slut or anything, I'm just- uh, nevermind. I'll just stop there. This isn't exactly going how I wanted. Just...know that you're not alone, Himeko. And I know that stuff is bad right now, but I just want you to be happy, okay? I'll see you around." And then the message was over.
Himeko sat frozen on her bed, not even shaking anymore. Her blankets lay in a heap at the bottom of her bed. Her pillows were on the floor. She felt exposed and trapped at the same time. Suffocating. Drowning. On fire. Freezing. Dying. Her insides burned, but her heart felt frozen and heavy. Like a rock.
Without warning, the havoc in her chest cavity exploded. It poured out of her throat in a growling howl of pure rage and hatred. She picked up the phone from beside her and ripped it out of the wall. With all her might, she flung it across the room where it smashed into her standing mirror and shattered it into thousands of pieces, the phone itself imploding and all the individual circuit pieces fluttered to the ground smashed to bits.
With another furious screech, she tore her nails into her wall and ripped off all the posters, tearing them to shreds on her bed. She leaped off of her bed and picked up her lamp, shoving it into the wall and smashing it all the hell, not even caring as a piece of ceramic sliced the palm of her hand.
Whipping around, she snapped her head back and forth, looking for more to destroy. Her eyes fell on her dresser and she pressed her forearms to the edge, swiping them across the surface and pushing off dozens of bottles of perfume, nail polish, and hair products, endless tubes of lipgloss, eyeliner, and mascara. All of them clattered to the floor, some breaking apart and sinking into the carpet, others hitting with tremendous clatters.
She ripped the drawers out and whipped them to the floor, ruining and smashing them with her hair dryers and curling irons. Staring at the broken remains of her dresser drawers, she scanned the scattered, broken-wood-covered clothes underneath and was filled with images of everything she'd done in those outfits. Dancing, singing, talking, being with that wretched boy.
Her vision crossed and black drew at the corners, her fury heightening until she practically saw red. Pulling out the last drawer, she fished in it for the large knife she kept in the back. She sunk to her knees and started stabbing, ripping, tearing and pulling at the articles of clothing until they sat in a shredded pile, bloody from her still bleeding cut.
Flying back to her bed, she shoved the knife into her pillow, tearing out the feathers from inside and tossing them upwards, watching them float down, some tinted with red. She dragged the knife all the way through her mattress, tearing up the sheets and the covers until they were unrecognizable.
Her anger finally sated, she dropped the knife on the ruined bed and collapsed in the center of the chaos, surrounded by broken bottles, mirror shard, circuit boards, ceramic pieces, clothing shreds, and bloodied feathers. And she laughed. She laughed and laughed and didn't stop even when her stomach hurt so much that she curled into a ball to make it stop.
She didn't stop when she rolled across sharp mirror and cut her cheek. She didn't stop when she rolled over a bottle piece which stuck into her thigh. She didn't even stop when she slammed her head into the marred up leg of her bed. She only stopped when the tears started.
Heavy, wet, and laced with painful amounts of eye makeup. Before she knew it, they were all over. She wiped them away furiously until her cheeks burned and screamed, flaming red as scratched and rubbed the skin away. But they kept coming. Snot ran down her nose and into her mouth, mingling with the rotten, spoiled rusty taste of blood and tears. She coughed and sputtered, sniffled and gurgled, until she started laughing again and the world went dark for a few moments.
Coughing violently, Himeko's senses gradually returned to her and she rose shakily to her feet, swaying, rocking back and forth until her eyes focused on her reflection in the dresser's mirror. Her cheeks were black from makeup, pulsing, sore and red, and her skin was a sickly gray. Her lips were cracked and bleeding. In fact, she was covered in blood leaking from her cheek, legs, and hands.
She lumbered toward her ugly image and sneered at it in abhorrence. This wasn't who she was. She wasn't this mess, this, this disgusting whore. And she wasn't going to stay like this for much longer. Raising a hand, she was about to smash this mirror too, but a thought occurred to her and suddenly she knew what her only option remaining was.
Stooping down, she picked up a tube of bright, candy red lipstick and uncapped it, tossing the cap aside. She scrawled a message out before whipping the stick somewhere in the room and digging around on the floor again until she came back up with an old tin. Opening it, she pulled out the only photo she had of the man she'd come to disdain. She ripped it in half and then taped one side on each side of her message before stepping back and admiring her work.
Satisfied, she shot downstairs where she knew it would be empty and grabbed her keys. Her mother hadn't been home in weeks. She probably wasn't coming back this time. Himeko didn't care. She didn't care this time. She threw herself into her car and started it up, ripping down the streets until she got to her destination.
Crawling out, she stumbled forward, having to grab onto the railing nearby for support. She was so dizzy. Her leg was numb. She couldn't breathe correctly. Her ears rang. Her head felt fuzzy, but there were pang of extreme pain. She couldn't seem to put her feet in the right places and her stomach felt like it was about to jump out of her throat.
The only thing driving her was her determination at this point. And it drove her right to the ledge she'd been picturing for days. Himeko stood looking down at the rapid waves beneath her, the sound of traffic behind her foggy at best through her screaming ear drums. Everything looked so dark. So calming. So welcoming. And yet so terrifying.
All at once, she insides crashed down and she tettered, grabbing onto a support and clenching her eyes shut. Was she ready for this? She didn't know. She panicked for a moment, her breathing increasing to unsafe rates, her chest rapidly expanding and collapsing before the oxygen could dissipate through her bloodstream. Her legs collapsed underneath her and she hit the ground hard, her head slamming into the pavement.
Dazed, battered, and confused, Himeko lifted her head and screamed. More tears forced their way out of her screwed shut eyelids, stinging as they streaked across her burned skin. She howled and clawed at her eyes, choking on her own spit and swollen tongue.
Forcing her way to her feet, she peered down at the raging river and swallowed hard. There was her salvation. All she had to do what let go. Plummet. It was so simple, so easy. But would it work? Would she sink?
She pressed her forehead to the cool stone of the bridge and the thrumming, pulsing beat in her ears died down. How did people do it in movies? They used stones to drag them down under...but where would she find stones? Did she need stones?
The answer came easy enough. No. Her heart was rock solid. Heavy, cold, and solid. Unmoving. Unshakable. It would drag her down for sure. She stepped up on the ledge and glanced at it once more. Unable to look at her fate as she jumped for it, she turned around and watched the streaking lights of traffic through her blurry vision.
The sound of the waves and rushing cars finally broke through the fluff in her ears and she settled, finding a part of her switch off just as quickly as it had switched on. This was finally it. After all that she'd gone through. After everything with her father, everything he did to her and her mother, everything her mother had subjected her to, everything she'd worked so hard to build only to watch it crumble underneath her. Everything she'd felt when she'd finally fallen in love for real only to watch that be ripped away and discarded like it was a joke. She was a joke. A cruel joke that ended here and now.
And then she let go. The wind rushed around her. The sky loomed above, a pleasant black dotted with speckles of white, wrapping around her like a warm blanket. Nothing made a sound. Nothing seemed to touch her. She was invincible for those few seconds. And she was finally at peace with herself. She closed her eyes and allowed her lips to pull up in a smile. And then everything was gone.
Her limp body crashed violently into the river and she shot straight to the bottom. Her skull slammed into a rock and it was all over. Lifeless and unmoving, her mass of tangled arms and legs drifted through the rapidly rolling waves where it was tossed this way and that. Finally, it caught on the leg of a bridge and sank down, resting on the riverbed.
The aftermath was just as horrible. A biker had seen the last moment before she fell and had immediately called the police. They arrived quickly, notifying anyone they could who seemed connected to her. Dozens of the community raced to the lakeshore nearby where they dredged her body out of the water. Her best friend identified the body as she sobbed heavily, wrapped in the arms of their other closest friends, all wailing as they watched forensics take their evidence systematically.
Teams were dispatched to her house. Others stayed at the bridge to take statements. The whole ordeal took hours. The medical examiner showed up to do a quick once over before her autopsy and he appeared rather puzzled.
"Is it a suicide, doc?" One black and white asked.
"Well, it would certainly appear so...and with the witness statements, it sounds right. It's just...there appear to be some curious abrasions to her skin that wouldn't be caused by anything in this river…"
"Like what?"
"Ceramic, glass maybe? And she appears to have a minor concussion from before the fall. Perhaps another alternation?"
"Are you saying she was murdered then?" A girl to the side wailed and buried her face into the arms of her boyfriend who was cooing softly, although his own cheeks were terribly wet.
"I don't want to out rule it yet-" The examiner began before he was cut off.
"I think it's pretty safe, at this point. My partner just informed me they'd finished their initial search of the house." The head detective glanced over his glasses and tapped a pencil on his pad of paper thoughtfully. "Apparently, whole house was clean cept her bedroom. Looked like a tornado went through it. Probably did the whole thing herself. No sign of forced entry or nothin'. But the really damning thing would probably be the suicide note she left."
Those were the first words that hit Toshiro's ears as he finally reached the rest of his friends. "Suicide?" He echoed, his mouth dropping open he processed everything around him. "H-Himeko?" His voice was soft and disbelieving, but he watched as the blonde's face was slowly covered by the familiar black body bag he'd seen on tv countless times.
"Yeah, kid. Left a note. You might wanna look at it. It's only nine words. 'You want me to be happy? Fine. Watch me.' All written in lipstick on her mirror. And on each side…" He held up his phone with the picture, showing the glossy of Toshiro torn up and placed haphazardly next to the words. "Here's lookin' at you, kid."
One of Himeko's groupies turned around and slammed her fists into Toshiro's chest, pounding roughly against him, drops of her tears splattering onto his face. "This is all your fault! It's your fault! It's your fault she died!" Two people pulled her off of him, but she flailed and screamed at the top of her lungs, "Your fault! Your fault!"
Instantly, his girlfriend was in between them. "How in the hell was this Shiro's fault? He didn't kill her! She offed herself!"
"How dare you?!" Another girl yelled, gearing up to slap the soccer player. "You could never understand! Everything has been handed down to you! You have no idea what it was like for her! It was a miracle she got up every day!"
"Well, boohoo for her! Maybe it's better she just went and gave up on trying then, she was a waste of air and space- she didn't deserve to live anyway-"
"Emi!" Toshiro said, whirling her around with a look of horror on his face.
"Oh, you know I'm right! You hated her as much as I did, she was manipulative and cruel, sadistic and polluting! You're glad she's dead!"
"No, I'm not!" He screamed back, finally feeling the pinpricks of sharp needles behind his eyes. "I would give anything to have her here now, and you know that!"
"Why can't you just let her go!? She just liked watching you squirm! She never even liked you!"
"You're wrong!" Himeko's best friend roared at the top of her lungs. "You think she did this because of her life!? She didn't care about any of that, she barely cared about anything! The only thing she ever cared about was him!" She hollered, pointing accusatorily at Toshiro. "She was in love with him, you stupid bitch!"
His mouth fell open and suddenly he felt sicker than he had in a long time. His stomach was eating itself and his lungs refused to inflate. He was going to throw up. She wasn't using him. That kiss hadn't been because she'd wanted to ruin his life. She'd just been expressing her feelings. And he ripped her apart for that. No wonder she hadn't left the house or spoken a word. He was the cause of her death. He killed her. It was his fault.
"And...cut!" Tengen roared, watching as the studio sat in complete silence. The moment Ren broke character, he went into as close as he could get to a full out sprint without looking it as he raced for the natural redhead. He found her laying on her back on the mat that caught her, looking up at the ceiling.
"Sai?" He questioned gently, watching as she turned to look at him and her face lit up into the proudest smile.
"Ren…" Her voice purred as she pointed up to the bridge she'd fallen from earlier. "Look, I did it…"
"Yes…" He said softly, his eyes regarding her warmly. "You did, Sai, and it was positively brilliant." He'd never forget the look on her face when he'd said that. She looked so happy she could die, but buried under all that pride and joy was gratitude. Gratitude to his advice and encouragement, gratitude to his words, and gratitude to him. It was the look of someone completely head over heels.
