Author's Note- Hey guys! (And girls!) I just felt like I HAD to write this.
It's pretty short, only a few chapters. I do not own CCS or any of the
characters in it. I got this idea from a short story in the book Being
Dead. And I don't own that either. By the way, this story takes place in
America, I just used Tomoeda, cause well...hey- it's my story I don't have to
make up a reason for what I do! LOL. Syao's a bit OOC but...Oh well. Thanks!
R&R.
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October Chill
By: Cobalt-eyedAngel
The worst part of dying, Sakura thought, was knowing it was coming. Which was ridiculous, she knew: EVERYONE would die, eventually. Everyone KNEW it was coming. Eventually.
It was that EVENTUALLY that made all that difference in the world.
Not every sixteen-year-old knew she wouldn't see seventeen. Not everyone had gone through test after painful test only to have her doctor tell her, "From now on, we'll concentrate on keeping you comfortable."
Still, for the moment Sakura WAS comfortable. Sakura's father, who always tried to find something positive about everything, pointed out that at least Sakura hadn't had to go through chemotherapy and lose her auburn locks. It was hard to find a whole lot of comfort in that, but Sakura supposed she should be grateful that she didn't look obviously sick. Because the last thing she wanted were people knowing.
And people didn't know. Except for her family, of course. And the doctor. And the doctor's staff. And the people at the support group her father and brother had forced her to join. Not that she had any plans to go back THERE if whining and sulking could get her out of it. The only good thing about support group was they had finally convinced her father that hovering was bad.
But in any case, at least she didn't have people on the street giving her that pitying look she'd seen them give to the other kids who went to the same oncologist, with their bald heads, and the circle under their eyes, and their arms all bruised from the injections and the IVs.
SEE, Sakura told herself, you have a lot to be thankful for. So far there was no pain, or nothing the medication couldn't handle, anyway. And she still had her hair. And her school friends and her neighbors didn't know about the inoperable tumor growing in her head. And...
Sakura tried to think of more things to be thankful for.
And she had this weekend job she loved in the recreated historic village at Tomoeda Valley Park. And she'd be able to finish the season out, which was good. No need for lies or awkward explanations. She'd work until winter break with nobody suspecting anything, and by the time spring came around, she'd be dead. 'Did you hear,' she could imagine the regulars saying- Takashi and Chiharu and Naoko and a couple of the others-'that little high school girl who worked over the summer and on weekends died.'
Just so long as she didn't have to be the one to tell them. She sincerely hoped she would be dead by spring, rather than lingering in a state not quite dead or alive.
So, what she DIDN'T have was a reason to be feeling sorry for herself. Well, no more than usual. What she DIDN'T have was a reason to be crying.
But here she was, sitting at one of the round table at Tiluke Spa Tavern, hoping that she could stop crying before the first busload of tourists came up the gravel path.
Just STOP IT, she told herself, using the corner of her reproduction colonial serving-girl shawl to wipe her eyes. She was faced away from the door, and the fire Takashi had started in the hearth wasn't really going yet, so her chest and face were warm, and her back and arms goose bumpy with the cold of an October morning in Tomoeda. Any minute now people would arrive- - day-camp kids with construction-paper name tags pinned to their jackets, Japanese businessmen bearing cameras, families who preferred the cold of off-season to the summer crowds- - expecting the warm cider, which was all this particular tavern served.
The wood floor creaked behind her, and she felt a cold draft on the back of her neck, though the fire in the grate didn't gutter and she hadn't heard the front door give its characteristic squeal.
Hurriedly Sakura wiped the back of her hand across her cheeks, as though brushing wisps of hair that had gotten loose from the bun under her colonial cap. She pretended to wipe a smudge on the table with her apron. If Mr. Kohako found out that customers were coming in before she was prepared, she would be in for another of his verisimilitude(A/N- LOL. Ask my friend what that means. She said it would fit there, it's one of my spelling words I had to use somewhere this week. LOL.) Lectures.
"There," she said, stepping back from the table as though examining it. "That's better." She rubbed her arms. "Ooo, a bit brisk today, isn't it?" Finally she turned to see who had entered.
Not a sightseer after all. He was in a colonial costume; that was the first thing she noticed, his oversized, drop-shouldered shirt that put him in the same 1750 to 1790 era she was supposed to represent, though she had never seen him before. Maybe he was subbing for someone.
He even had his hair long enough to be bound at the nape of his neck, which the board of trustees didn't insist on, knowing that most of the men were part-timers whose regular employers might disapprove of a pigtail. Sakura decided this guy probably wasn't employed. He couldn't have been ore than a year or two older than Sakura, so he was probably a student, maybe high school, maybe college. Most of the students left after the summer.
The second thing she noticed was that was exceptionally good-looking, in a clear-skinned, intense-eyed manner. Noticing that made her feel uncomfortable. Things being as they were, how this guy looked was none of her business.
"Yes?" she said, because the young man had said nothing. And she turned her back to him because her eyes were beginning to overflow again.
"Are you..." His voice was strained, as though he wasn't used to it. "Is there anything..."
Oh, damn, he'd realized she'd been crying. "Isn't there something you're supposed to be doing?" she snapped, embarrassed. Good; nothing was wrong with that. Frighten him off.
"I'm sorry," he said. There was pain in that apology, and Sakura knew she had put it there. He'd probably fought with himself, with his inclination(A/N- another spelling word!! LOL.) not to get involved, and she'd gone and bitten his head off. There's maintaining your privacy, she told herself, and then there's being just plain mean.
"Look." She turned back to him. "I'm the one who should-"
He'd taken a step away. "I'm sorry," he repeated, almost a whisper. She'd put him in panic; she could see it in those wide eyes. That gave her a wretched(A/N- can u guess what it is? Yep spelling word!) feeling, and she started, "Don't-"
He shook his head. "I'm sorry." He stepped back.
And dissolved into thin air.
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Author's Note- Hey! Pretty good right? I think so. My friend Maddison edited it, isn't she great? LOL. I told her she should write her own stories and get a penname, then she'd have a zillion reviews but she said (and I quote. LOL) "Anything I write I'm going to publish in a book, why waste my time with ff.net?" Poooooooor FF. net!! Don't worry I love you! LOL. Maddi can be a bit...eh...snobbish. LOL. (oh, if she's reading this. You know I love you! Hehe) Anyways next chapter coming really, really soon hopefully.
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October Chill
By: Cobalt-eyedAngel
The worst part of dying, Sakura thought, was knowing it was coming. Which was ridiculous, she knew: EVERYONE would die, eventually. Everyone KNEW it was coming. Eventually.
It was that EVENTUALLY that made all that difference in the world.
Not every sixteen-year-old knew she wouldn't see seventeen. Not everyone had gone through test after painful test only to have her doctor tell her, "From now on, we'll concentrate on keeping you comfortable."
Still, for the moment Sakura WAS comfortable. Sakura's father, who always tried to find something positive about everything, pointed out that at least Sakura hadn't had to go through chemotherapy and lose her auburn locks. It was hard to find a whole lot of comfort in that, but Sakura supposed she should be grateful that she didn't look obviously sick. Because the last thing she wanted were people knowing.
And people didn't know. Except for her family, of course. And the doctor. And the doctor's staff. And the people at the support group her father and brother had forced her to join. Not that she had any plans to go back THERE if whining and sulking could get her out of it. The only good thing about support group was they had finally convinced her father that hovering was bad.
But in any case, at least she didn't have people on the street giving her that pitying look she'd seen them give to the other kids who went to the same oncologist, with their bald heads, and the circle under their eyes, and their arms all bruised from the injections and the IVs.
SEE, Sakura told herself, you have a lot to be thankful for. So far there was no pain, or nothing the medication couldn't handle, anyway. And she still had her hair. And her school friends and her neighbors didn't know about the inoperable tumor growing in her head. And...
Sakura tried to think of more things to be thankful for.
And she had this weekend job she loved in the recreated historic village at Tomoeda Valley Park. And she'd be able to finish the season out, which was good. No need for lies or awkward explanations. She'd work until winter break with nobody suspecting anything, and by the time spring came around, she'd be dead. 'Did you hear,' she could imagine the regulars saying- Takashi and Chiharu and Naoko and a couple of the others-'that little high school girl who worked over the summer and on weekends died.'
Just so long as she didn't have to be the one to tell them. She sincerely hoped she would be dead by spring, rather than lingering in a state not quite dead or alive.
So, what she DIDN'T have was a reason to be feeling sorry for herself. Well, no more than usual. What she DIDN'T have was a reason to be crying.
But here she was, sitting at one of the round table at Tiluke Spa Tavern, hoping that she could stop crying before the first busload of tourists came up the gravel path.
Just STOP IT, she told herself, using the corner of her reproduction colonial serving-girl shawl to wipe her eyes. She was faced away from the door, and the fire Takashi had started in the hearth wasn't really going yet, so her chest and face were warm, and her back and arms goose bumpy with the cold of an October morning in Tomoeda. Any minute now people would arrive- - day-camp kids with construction-paper name tags pinned to their jackets, Japanese businessmen bearing cameras, families who preferred the cold of off-season to the summer crowds- - expecting the warm cider, which was all this particular tavern served.
The wood floor creaked behind her, and she felt a cold draft on the back of her neck, though the fire in the grate didn't gutter and she hadn't heard the front door give its characteristic squeal.
Hurriedly Sakura wiped the back of her hand across her cheeks, as though brushing wisps of hair that had gotten loose from the bun under her colonial cap. She pretended to wipe a smudge on the table with her apron. If Mr. Kohako found out that customers were coming in before she was prepared, she would be in for another of his verisimilitude(A/N- LOL. Ask my friend what that means. She said it would fit there, it's one of my spelling words I had to use somewhere this week. LOL.) Lectures.
"There," she said, stepping back from the table as though examining it. "That's better." She rubbed her arms. "Ooo, a bit brisk today, isn't it?" Finally she turned to see who had entered.
Not a sightseer after all. He was in a colonial costume; that was the first thing she noticed, his oversized, drop-shouldered shirt that put him in the same 1750 to 1790 era she was supposed to represent, though she had never seen him before. Maybe he was subbing for someone.
He even had his hair long enough to be bound at the nape of his neck, which the board of trustees didn't insist on, knowing that most of the men were part-timers whose regular employers might disapprove of a pigtail. Sakura decided this guy probably wasn't employed. He couldn't have been ore than a year or two older than Sakura, so he was probably a student, maybe high school, maybe college. Most of the students left after the summer.
The second thing she noticed was that was exceptionally good-looking, in a clear-skinned, intense-eyed manner. Noticing that made her feel uncomfortable. Things being as they were, how this guy looked was none of her business.
"Yes?" she said, because the young man had said nothing. And she turned her back to him because her eyes were beginning to overflow again.
"Are you..." His voice was strained, as though he wasn't used to it. "Is there anything..."
Oh, damn, he'd realized she'd been crying. "Isn't there something you're supposed to be doing?" she snapped, embarrassed. Good; nothing was wrong with that. Frighten him off.
"I'm sorry," he said. There was pain in that apology, and Sakura knew she had put it there. He'd probably fought with himself, with his inclination(A/N- another spelling word!! LOL.) not to get involved, and she'd gone and bitten his head off. There's maintaining your privacy, she told herself, and then there's being just plain mean.
"Look." She turned back to him. "I'm the one who should-"
He'd taken a step away. "I'm sorry," he repeated, almost a whisper. She'd put him in panic; she could see it in those wide eyes. That gave her a wretched(A/N- can u guess what it is? Yep spelling word!) feeling, and she started, "Don't-"
He shook his head. "I'm sorry." He stepped back.
And dissolved into thin air.
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Author's Note- Hey! Pretty good right? I think so. My friend Maddison edited it, isn't she great? LOL. I told her she should write her own stories and get a penname, then she'd have a zillion reviews but she said (and I quote. LOL) "Anything I write I'm going to publish in a book, why waste my time with ff.net?" Poooooooor FF. net!! Don't worry I love you! LOL. Maddi can be a bit...eh...snobbish. LOL. (oh, if she's reading this. You know I love you! Hehe) Anyways next chapter coming really, really soon hopefully.