Disclaimer: Bleach is Kubo Tite's work. Borrowing.
Mote
- drabble, one-shot, whatchamacallit collection written for the Livejournal community 31days themes / writing prompts, dating from August last year.
Stars are Overated, so Not You
August 31: Tell me, beloved rarity / tell me, rare love / where are you now?
Those scintillating lights take eons to get to the where that matters. After all, empty space doesn't care for all those stars, littered all over the place. The where that matters is the where people are, those stupid animals whose jaws drop at anything that tinkles or trickles or twinkles. The humans put stars, or references to them, all over the place, are inspired by them to chug out uncountable second-rate creations: epic poems, fifteen-feet murals, nine-minute songs. Of course, the stars act all mighty and cold and pale, like they don't care at all what people think, because they are absolutely breathtaking and stunning when they want to be and they know it whether or not you admit it. Come to think of it, the stars are whiny little attention-seekers anyway (and who says they don't spend all their time hanging up there boasting to each other? how do you know?) what with all that shining and constellating.
Constellating. What a word.
And what a kick this innocent-looking jar of liquid delivers. Which reminds her...
She leans over and throws up very carefully. Very carefully refers to how she daintily scoops her pretty golden hair away from her greenish face.
Golden? Pooh. The self-satisfied embellishment of wanna-be poets. (One of which she isn't by the way.) Anyone can see her hair is an absolute disaster right now. That anyone doesn't include Kira-kun, of course. Wow, how can such huge a snore come from such thin a frame? (Thin, thin! There is that thin again! ) Now about hair... There's something about hair and sake not getting along well. Hair makes sake brittle. Or something like that.
She blinks owlishly at the little cup of alcohol. Hair over booze? Hair, definitely hair. And she puts the sake back into the jar. (Most of it, anyway.)
So she's vain about her hair----not that it matters. Boobs are more eye-candy-ish. (Not that that matters either.) A tiny waistline is useful, too. And ass. If you got all the numbers jiving together impeccably, the boobs stand out like whoa. Boobs are rather nice. She peered down and poked them. Oh yes, nice. Squishy. Soft. She pushes both aside---or tries to anyway. They do get in the way a little, she mourns, but they can't be that bad. And he shouldn't complain! He doesn't have boobs.
And his eyes are weird, too. Bastard.
Buying boobs is complicated like buying booze. There are all those kinds of cups involved: A, B, C, D, E. Oh, wait. The cup things are where you put in the boobs. You can buy the gartered cup things, but you can't buy boobs from the store.
(And you can't buy those weird eyes, either. Isn't that just unfair? They are intriguing sort of eyes—in a weird way. You can put them in little cups, too, and play with the other street urchins for keeps. Like cat eyes. Right. Sleepy cat eyes.)
He yawns like a cat. Purrs like one. Mysteriously worms its way into your heart and then you wake up one morning and kapoof. No more kitten.
You know, it's the stupid person's fault for trying to keep the cat. Maybe the kitten decides to keep the person, not the other way around. Maybe the little critter doesn't care. People are stupid that way, getting all gooey with every meow.
It's like with the stars again. Stars may be stuck-up idiots, but so are people. They believe things like the future is written in the stars, that sort of dreamy nonsense. Or something about wishing. Or, or... Look, that star is winking at me!
What was that Hitsugaya-taichou said about stars?
Oh yeah, that they don't really twinkle. It's just the sky and all that lofty distance making a fool of us all, playing our little delusions.
You know that, don't you, Gin (where ever you are, you odious thing)? The stars and the heavens. It's just a conspiracy. A joke.
You don't belong in the heavens, Gin, not in that huge immensity that bears down on us all, hulking up there day and night. Sure, you smile like the stars do, all mysterious, and secretive, and annoying when you look at me. But you aren't as petty as they are, never as blatant, never as trite.
Never as... glib.
But then again, what did she really know of the stars?
What did she really know of him?
-aug 16 05; 0010
Index:
1. Stars are overrated, so not you (GinRan drabblish)
2. Breathe (Ichigo, Rukia drabble)
3. Sterility (Hitsugaya on Hinamori)
4. The Adopted (Nemu)
5. The sky is blue (Renji, Byakuya)
6. Resolution (GinRan)
7. Virtues (division 11, alternate universe)
8. Cat who watches (Yoruichi, Urahara Kisuke)
9. Velveteen Lion (Kon, Orihime, parody)
10. Random Babblings (Hitsugaya, Matsumoto, Alternate Universe)
11. Suicide (Sado, drabble)
12. Fugue (RenjixNemu, rated M)
13. Randomness (Ise Nanao, drabble)