Note #1: I don't own anything in this story except the plot. Each chapter in the story is like a songfic onto itself, but it typically works into the plot, as you'll soon see.
Note #2: I rearranged the lyrics of this song around (please don't sue, artistic license!) a little as it is originally in Japanese, and the English lyrics don't always… fit in correctly, know what I'm saying? Anyway, the song was written by the musical genius Yoko Kanno (so it belongs to her) and was performed by the very talented Mai Yamane.
Chapter 1: The Real Folk Blues
Flowers. Moreover, they were roses, the luscious red petals emanating with the sweet scent of life itself. They were gorgeous, seeming to sparkle in the sunlight that streamed in through her window, caressing the dozen symbols of love that were perfectly arranged in the vase. It was a gift, a token of admiration sent by some romantic stranger who wanted to sweep her off her feet. The card tucked cautiously amongst the layers of ruby red velvet was mysterious, and without a signature.
"You'll always be on my mind."
It wasn't an unusual occurrence, in fact, her apartment was decorated with new bouquets almost every week. But roses were rare, as expensive as they were. Beautiful and sweet, imparting their message of love… They made her want to cry.
It's too late to lamentThat we were deeply in love
The wind is still blowing
And my heart cannot heal
Turning her head from the windowsill, her eyes misted, and suddenly she was on her knees on the ground, shards of glass and scattered crimson petals littering the floor around her as she sobbed to herself. A disgusted sigh reached her ears from behind her, and a pair of strong hands rested on her shoulders. She knocked them away from her, forcing herself to look at the source of her sorrow.
"No!" she yelled, the cry echoing in her mind. "Don't say it again, you'll only be lying!"
She squeezed her eyes shut at the sound of the slamming door, choking back the lump in her throat as she relived the memory that stalked her mind, both in her waking moments and her dreams. The words, the image, the emotion; it was like a ghost that walked at her side, and refused to release her from its painful grip. She took a deep breath and continued to sing in a slightly shaky voice.
I hoped that I could sleepIn the cradle of your love again
One side of my eyes sees tomorrow
And the other one sees yesterday Fingertips continued to gently brush the ivory keys, an angelic melody flowing from the instrument before her, as she poured heart and soul into the wistful tune she played. In the back of her mind, she imagined that the band was there, their powerful music rising behind her and colliding with her bittersweet song, making it into something new, and overwhelming. There was a reason why people came from all over the city to see her perform. Those who watched her would leave breathless and shaken. They would be eternally haunted by her sorrowful words, and heavenly voice. Heartbroken or not, by the end of the night, you would feel a tightening in your chest, and a feeling as if your soul would burst. It was exactly as she felt. Longing and despair, intermingled and flowing boundlessly between the worlds of the spiritual and the material in the form of elegant poetry. Someone cry for me with parched eyes
It was a lonely life, despite all the different people she met everyday. She would never have imagined herself to lead such a pitiful existence, but this was the only thing that felt right. To drift through the world as a shadow, dancing along the border between existence and dreams… only this way could she ever think to survive. Her name and her talent were the only things about her that were well known, and even then, only within the city. She was never discovered, because she never wanted to be, and the people of the city kept her a secret to keep all to themselves. She didn't want to be in the world's spotlight anymore.
She had always been a down to earth girl, wanting only the simple, but joyful things in life. Fate would not have it that way, however. Everyone on the western continent knew who she was, but back then, she tried her best to deal with it, before her heart was shattered. Wasn't it morbidly funny how the one thing that could put your heart back together was the thing that broke it in the first place?
Everything she'd known, all the happiness and color in her life… it all seemed to drain away, and now she was left only with these words, these songs of loneliness and remorse. Every song, she had written for him.
The real folk blues
I want to know…
I just want to know a real sorrow
Life is not so bad, in the muddy river
If life is only once…
Only once
Back then, she hadn't stopped to consider if what she was doing was right. She just knew, as she stood from the floor on shaking legs, and quietly swept up the broken vase and flowers, that she had to leave. She couldn't take it anymore, all the long nights she spent alone because she had been pushed back to second place, all the hateful glares from the people that knew of the tainted blood in her veins, or even all the star struck gazes and flashing cameras that seemed to surround her anytime she ventured into the world. It was more than any one person should have to deal with.
After trashing the pile of splintered glass, she pulled out a suitcase and packed her clothes, and the few things that held real sentimental importance to her. Anything he had given her, or anything that reminded her of him, she left behind.
She ran through the mostly empty halls, not stopping once to look back. She plowed right into one of her best friends, and paused only long enough to murmur an apology before going on.
She caught the last train out for the evening, settling into a seat at the back of her car and trying in vain not to think or feel. She stared out at the darkening landscape, and her vision blurred once more as the full weight of what she had done finally began to sink in. She had left the love of her life behind, and now, she could never return. She realized with a start that she could look all she wanted to for a happier life elsewhere, but she would never find it. It was hopeless…
Hopeless hope
And chance with traps
What is right and what is wrong
It's like two sides of a coin
Now, here she was, sitting in a small apartment in a slightly run-down area of Esthar, playing and singing her frustrations away as she had been doing for the past nine months since buying the piano. Why Esthar? After taking the train to Dollet, she spent a night in a hotel room, wondering where to go. There was no way she could go running back to That Man, and she didn't want to burden her old friends in Timber. For once, she would have to stand on her own two feet.
At some point during the night, a flash of what she had assumed was lightening illuminated the room, and woke her from her deep slumber. Pulling back the curtains over her balcony door to get a look at the storm, she discovered a photographer standing out on her balcony. A few screams, and an arrest later, she decided she would have to leave the area, if she were ever to live in peace. This left three places: the abandoned continent of Centra, the freezing, SeeD dominated country of Trabia, or Esthar. Though Esthar was beginning to open up to the rest of the world, its people were still slightly disconnected, and probably wouldn't know who she was, since the Estharian government had kept her identity secret when they captured her.
She took what small bit of money was her own to keep, and got an apartment. While wandering the streets one evening, she came across a small bar called the Swimming Bird, and auditioned to be part of the nightly entertainment. Her life had been a steady routine of getting dressed up every evening, singing late into the night, and waking up around noon the next morning since then. That was how she would live, and the way things were looking, that's how she would die.
How long must I live, until I find release
She briefly wondered, as she often did, if he had moved on already. It had been nearly a year, after all. She had tried her damnedest to find someone else that would fill the hole in her soul, but it was no use. After a while, she had just stopped trying.
She also couldn't help but wondered what he thought or felt when she left. Did he shed a tear, or show any form of emotion? Did he feel guilty, and angry, or did he just except the news with a quiet nod, and go on about his business? She wondered if he had changed at all. For a moment, she could do nothing but ponder if his life was just as empty as hers. Did he ever miss that amazing feeling they had shared, or had he ever even felt it at all? Did he think of her all the time, as she did him?
"You'll always be on my mind."
She bit deeply into her lip for a brief moment, hating the fact that she sounded like some kind of crazed fan, fawning over him, the way some did over her.
The real folk bluesI just want to feel…
I just want to feel a real pleasure
All that glitters…
Isn't gold
So this was the real folk blues. To look upon your life and see an endless world of gray, or to know that you're not dreaming, only because you feel the pain. To live within the dreary world of common man, and know that fairy tale romance is only a shallow child's tale... that's what her song was about. That's what her life was about.
It was a sorry state of existence, and never would she have expected to find herself here. Every day was lonely, monotonous, and her job was to sing the words that tore at her heart each time they left her mouth. Still, it wasn't such a bad life. Rinoa Heartilly had decided, a long time ago, that she could see it through to the end, so long as she would only have to live her life once.
The real folk bluesI want to know…
I just want to know a real sorrow
Life is not so bad in the muddy river
If life is only once…
Only once…
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A/N: Sorry this is so short, and boring!!! I never post anything this short, but I just couldn't say anymore. The next chapters will be longer, as there will actually be something happening in those chapters. I expect this fic to only run about four or five chapters (that's my estimate anyway). And yes, fear not, it will get better. Also, sorry if the formatting's not that great, I fixed 10 freaking times and this was the best I could get it!
Chapter 2 "Hold On": As Rinoa performs an old song of hers at the Swimming Bird, she gazes out into the crowd, and notices a pair of familiar eyes staring at her through the darkness….