My first crisis, is that I have much to say, and little time or patience.
I was young, young enough that during that period the concept of complementary colors lingered still in my mind, and seemed of enough importance to mention here and there. And I can imagine that you know who was that woman that I saw. But what happened to her... did it really ever happen?
Cannon went off, day after day, sometimes in rapid succession, and their shells left destruction everywhere. White, black, gray, every color, it would be stained.
I could never look a priest in the eye, and fell from cliffs and windows again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again...
I grew older and she remained the same age. Apparently, it changed once.
K is in love with her. The way he draws her, apparently in silence, should be credit to that. I perceive among all his other pieces of this same woman, one of Hitomi, smiling at me and flashing a peace sign my way. She wears a white shirt and holds a volleyball. She says, "Please rest assured! I'm wearing it!" and K comments, "Actually, it gets wet and becomes see-through." The important Japanese "w" follows. It's clear that K is in love. ... with someone.
With large eyes and small bodies Helena, Mai, Ayane, and others smile at me, in some instances, "playfully", I suppose. K laughs again, saying of an image of Tina in a maid outfit, that whereas he normally does not take "basic requests", that there exist some "special circumstances". Whatever. The point is that I see Kasumi.
It hurts me. Her body, covered by torn clothes faces away, but she looks back at me, and tells me, "Please take good care of me this new year." Cherry blossoms fall in the meantime.
In another, her clothes are more ripped, and she covers herself with her arms, holding her shoulders, exclaiming, "I can't defeat you!" What does that mean? What have I done? To K, all that matters is that it was popular on the website in certain parts of Japan. He's clearly in love. Apparently, its popularity with boys was high. What a surprise.
In a different one, there are fewer tears, but now two red cuts atop her chest. Half-heartedly, most of her effort into gazing with furrowed eyebrows at me, she holds her shoulder with one hand, and one of her legs with the other. There are more like that, but if I were to say anything of them, I would interrupt myself with vomit.
Into she kneels among a sea of fire. Or, perhaps they are maple leaves. Lit aflame.
In one she stands in the sea, in her familiar blue uniform, intact now, and as cherry blossom petals float round the air, she looks back at me, half a smile to present. There is one where she kneels in something of a void, an image of the same faint behind her. She holds her legs and blushes in my direction. K appears to lament that Kokoro is more popular.
I like the one where she stands facing me, smiles, and shows me that familiar peace sign.
I'm in love, too.
There is another, where she sits on the floor, and the guard, or curtain, or whatever, is torn. Her sock is torn as well. From the top, her shirt is loose. She covers her breast with one arm and looks at me. The blush is so faint, but I don't need to see it to know. She asks, "What's wrong?" ... Or am I the one asking her? Isn't it obvious?
I'm... I'm in love.
In another Kasumi lies on a white bed, again facing me. Her socks are torn. K says that she wants me to massage her leg. And Kasumi says, "Please don't hurt it."
What's wrong with me?
In two she comments that it's hot. I suppose it excuses her loose uniform again. In one she is on her stomach; in both, I can see her upper arms, exposed. That first one. She smiles a bit nervously back at me, perhaps chuckling, and holds her breast... I sigh.
We are at the beach, and from beneath those blue clothes she reveals her swimsuit. K says that she is full of energy to swim, as she has recently won a fight. Ah, how lovely she looks. Then I see her in another swimsuit, shading her eye from the sun and smiling at me. This one... stuck in my head. But then, they all inevitably do, because I have stared at them for so long, every time I search for and find them again.
In my own head I can picture her battered, holes in her body, blood all around, and worst of all... no, I can't.
"What's wrong?" She blushes at me from a pink background of frames of cherry blossom flowers.
I have many options available. "I'm in love with you. I want to hold you and be with you... even if only for a while."
She says nothing, but I can see her standing and moving to embrace me. I hold my arms out and find myself on my mattress, which is covered in a golden sheet. I hug my gray pillow and sigh, then yawn.
When night has come, I think about how, at least, the stains are finally out. Well, they have been, for a while. I guess I'm proud of that.
If I never do fall in love, it will only be my own fault. I guess I can pin the blame on others. I know exactly who they are, and what they say, and what they believe. They lie, but so do I, and... that's all.
[You jealous fools, stop lusting over whom you can't have.]