Title: Tomorrow Never Comes
Summary: An introspective about the path some people walk down. Life isn't always fair. Challenge fic. Complete.
Song: My Sharona by the Knack
Author: Fyyrrose
Disclaimer: Again, this does not belong to me
Notes: This is possibly a dark introspective reflection about life and death. If the thought of death and the manner in which people die bothers you then I suggest you stop reading now and check the general section of this category. I'm sure there are sappy endings for you to enjoy in there too. Lastly, if you choose to read it then please leave your feedback. Now, enjoy the story.
The setting sun gave off its last rays of light before retiring for the night. I stood on the shore and felt the rushing water crash against my bare toes. I sighed sadly. This would be the last time I ever saw him. I didn't know for certain if I would, but I felt it in my bones, in my entire being.
A lone tear crept down my cheek. There was no one here to tell me to keep my chin up, no one to tell me to grow up, and no one here to tell me that it wasn't manly to cry. No one was here, and I could cry.
My heart hurt. Hell, even my head hurt. Part of me wanted the ocean to come and sweep me to its inner sanctions where I could nurse my broken and fragile heart 'til the ends of time.
What we want and what we get are sometimes very different things. It was a fact of the reality we lived in. Nothing, if anything, ever went the way we plan. I wanted to live a life filled with uneventful events, but that didn't happen. I smirked sadly to myself.
There is always a thorn in our side that becomes more precious to us as each day passes, but remove the thorn and sometimes you wish it was back. Having the thorn in your side meant that you were alive, that you were living, meant that you existed.
I snorted at the thought of simply living to have a thorn in your side, but the more I thought about it, the more it was true.
After having said thorn in my side for so long, I realized tha—I shook my head.
The cool ocean breeze teased my luscious locks. It was cool and warm at the same time…this feeling reminded me of his lips. How I longed to feel the cool taste and warm breath upon them again.
I can dream, but dreaming will never make it reality. Dreaming gets you nowhere but frustration in the long run. How many nights have I been frustrated because of my dreaming?
I hated the long winter nights the most. Those were the ones that made my heart hurt. I should have been the one sipping oblong tea around the fire, and I'd silently scream about how he cheated at the last round of some game. Then he would round the table and take me in his arms and kiss me passionately, making me lose all sense of the fight.
Then we would retreat to the bedroom and I'd make him mine all over aga—the cold water lapped at my ankles clearing my thoughts of the passion that my mind would create. It would pacify my mind, but it would leave the rest of me longing for more.
A silent tear slipped into the salty water below. My legs gave way and I slumped into the sandy water below. Hopefully this would cool down my body and its raging emotions.
I was defeated. Utterly defeated. I let my head crash against the hard sandy surface. I no longer felt the pain. I wanted the tide to hurry up so that it would wash me way. I wanted to forget.
I wanted to drown myself in the red light district with cheap thrills and even cheaper drugs, but I couldn't. I wanted to forget, I deserved to forget…but this was my penance. I was destined to walk down this path. I was destined to be cold and alone.
How I longed to be warm. To feel the fires that was raging inside of me just wanting to come out. How I wanted to be released from this cage. Damn it, I mentally screamed to the waves that were lapping at my tear stained face. I deserved to be happy, so why am I always so miserable?
Was I that horrible of a person that I deserved to be cast aside with no care or concern? I was living and I was breathing, and no one saw.
I might as well be dead. No one would notice if I died. No one would care. I lived my life by my beliefs and yet it got me nowhere.
I wished I were strong enough to walk into the waves and never look back. My fear, rather my desire to see him again, always kept me from taking that first step.
I was bound to this plane by nothing more than desire. It was my selfish desire that kept me here. I was weak, and I hated it. I hated myself. I even hated him for not seeing me as a person and returning my feelings.
It would be so easy to allow my lungs to fill up with water, to be cast away with the tide, to be gone forever. All it would take would be a split second to forget to breathe and take in a lung full of water.
Why was that split second so important to me? Why was I still here? Why haven't I stopped breathing yet? Why do I struggle for life?
I hated myself for wanting to live. I had nothing, and yet, I still wanted it.
I should just get into a fight and have someone kill me. I shake my head. There were several problems with that. The first is my instincts would kick in and I'd end up saving myself—alone. Second, he would have to see me at my worse. I always wanted to be seen at my best, especially by him. Thir—the rush of water crashed against my face.
I wanted death, but my body forced itself to cough up the foreign water from my lungs. I clenched my fist in the sand and berated myself for not being strong enough to take my own life.
I truly admired those that killed themselves. They saw the world for what it really was…a complete and utter waste of time and energy. They decided that they were strong enough to take matters into their own hands.
The rest of us are weak, all clinging to some ideal that will only disappear one day. Nothing in this world is eternal. I see that now. Nothing lasts forever. Who knows maybe my heart will move on, but to what? What was out there? Did I want to settle for something less...could I?
Would anyone want me? I wasn't exactly perfect. Frankly, I had my faults; I know being perfect is my fault…I silently laughed at my own joke. It was something he would have said.
I shook my head and the water and sand in my hair weighed it down. I could joke in the face of death. Although he wouldn't laugh at it. He would think that my jokes were annoying and obnoxious.
I joke because I have nothing else to give. I'm not who he wants. I can never be. I could wait a million years, and yet it would still be a million too soon.
Despair, my last salvation.
I could feel my heart break under my beating chest. I faintly heard footsteps approach me. I vaguely thought it could be him, but then reason kicked in and it was probably a stranger taking a stroll to see if I was dead. I was on the inside.
"He's not coming, you know."
I opened my eyes to see light blue staring back at me. It wasn't him. Was it possible for a shattered heart to shatter again? "I know. I never expected him to come."
"Then why are you here?"
Why was I here? Why was anyone here? I think it was just a way to see what happens to misery when it's left to thrive. I think whoever thoug—
"Let's go home."
I looked up into the caring blue eyes and sighed. Go home to what? To who? There was nothing to live for.
Despite my willingness to die, my body got up and grabbed the strong but lithe hand that offered itself to me.
"If it makes you feel any better Shuichi, you could always try again tomorrow."
I looked into the smiling face. How was he so calm about all of this? Then I thought to myself. I could always try again tomorrow. Tomorrow was another 'ready to get up and become closer to death' kind of day.
But isn't that the same thing as living? Didn't everyone wake up day after day only to come closer to death? I smiled in the fading light. Tomorrow would be a better day to die.
Silently we walked back, each in our own thoughts about what tomorrow would bring.
fin
AN: There enjoy the tiny piece of dispair that I brought to you. Like it? Hate it? Let me know what you think!