Welcome, to the horrific, wonderful, magical, wierd, cool, mystical, random, what am I doing?

...Well, umm... Enjoy?

DISCLAIMER: Me no owney any Maki Murakami stuff.

Chapter 4-

I didn't know what to do. All I remember was all the anger that was coursing through my body.

A fiancée

Everything is created without my consent.

I jumped up from the ground and angrily stared at my dad. Even if Yumi was pretty, I won't let her become my wife. Nobody will be my wife, but him.

Only him, even if it's just a dream.

Hold on though... Does he become the wife, or me?

"How could you do this to me?" Somehow, I could feel a stinging sensation in my eyes. Tears? Probably. My dad just looked at me, he had no pity. He knew what I wanted, but instead he crushed it. He crushed it hard.

By restraining my freedom.

"Tatsuha, calm down. You won't get married right away, besides your only 16 right now." His hand bobbed up and down, motioning for me to sit back down. I would of sat back down, but I couldn't. Right now, I felt angry. Angry at Sakuma-san.

Why? How should I know.

It just hurts.

I bolted off towards my room, ignoring my father's command to come back. I made my way towards my room, slid open the shoji door, and slammed it shut.

And here he was, in all his poster glory.

Sakuma Ryuichi.

My hands made their way to the closest glossy poster and gripped the sides tightly, crinkling them in my grasp. Then, I did the unthinkable.

I tore him off my wall, and ripped it in two.

Then again.

And again, until all the pieces were scattered around my feet.

I grabbed the next one and repeated my actions. More and more. I could not feel satisfied. All my posters had no meaning now, no, they never had a meaning in the first place.

He ignored me that time.

I grabbed my box of videos and hurled it over towards the wall.

He didn't want me.

I listened to the box crash into the wall, the videos tumbling out. I then reached for another poster. Another picture of him.

By then, my whole room was littered with scraps and torn fragments of all the posters that had adorned my walls, and only the corners of them were still stuck on my walls, held by a single tack. Such simplistic items that I love.

Have I just fallen in love with the poster?

My eyes averted towards my CD rack.

Or maybe this is just...

A forbidden love between a mortal and God.

He is the God, and I am the mere human that has fallen in love.

"Why?" I walked over towards my CD collection and grabbed a hold of the rack.

"Ryu--" My voice squeaked as I tossed the rack towards the already damaged videos.

"..." I dropped down to my knees, delicately holding my throat.

What... whats wrong with me? I can't seem to...

---

(3rd person)

"Yumi?" She was holding the wooden frame of the door, peering into the small crack that had formed on the Shoji screen. Her head slowly turned over towards the voice.

She smiled, "Yes, mother?"

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," Satsuki had her arms crossed in front of her, as she rested her body on one leg. Yumi's smile was slowly turned upside down. She took her hand off the door and fully turned herself towards her mother.

"Should I be?" She combed back her hair, letting the long red strands run through her fingers. "He won't forget about that guy..."

"Ahh, Ryuichi isn't it?"

The smile reappeared back on her lips, but this time it wasn't smile. Only a simple smirk.

"Yes, but I'll make sure that he forgets all about him," her smirk deepened, "Everything about him."

"My, my, such drama." Satsuki pulled out a cigarette from her pocket, and lit it with a lighter. Inhaling deeply, she walked past the door and through another at the end of the hall, the smoke still trailing behind her.

Yumi took one last look at the door and fled towards her mother, leaving a tormented Tatsuha still inside.

Still thinking, of why.

Why?

---

He was sitting down in a simple hallway chair, waiting, thinking.

What did I do wrong?

"Sakuma-san!" Shuichi ran up to the dazed singer, and patted his back lightly.

"Sakuma-san?" He repeated, this time in a questioning manner. He still did not respond.

"Ryuichi?"

"WAH! Shuichi, you scared me, na no da!" The singer jumped up from the chair, and put on a frightened face.

"Sa.. Sakuma-san, I just wanted to thank you for the recording session today. You were great!" The pink boy bowed down in front of Ryuichi, but he didn't seem to notice. His gaze seemed elsewhere, though he was smiling back at the boy.

"Ne, do you know where Tatsuha lives, na no da?" The boy pulled his head back up, and stared at Ryuichi.

"Yeah, but why?"

He slowly drew his finger towards his lips, "Ryuichi..."

"...wants to thank him!"

"Eh? But Ryuichi..." Shuichi averted his eyes down towards his arm, which was bandaged neatly.

"Ahh, Shuichi pleeeeaaase?"

"Tohma will kill me if I do," Shuichi sighed. "But I guess if he doesn't know..."

"Thank you, na no da!" Ryuichi jumped up from his spot and hugged Shuichi tightly.

"Here... to get to his house..."

Ryuichi looked out the window of his car and watched as small houses began to gather. The further and further away he went from Tokyo, the more shrines and cottages he could see.

"Are we there yet?" he asked impatiently.

"Ryuichi-san, just a little bit further."

"Ah..." So he continued to stare out his window his eyelids, slowly, but surely drooping down. The driver looked at back at Ryuichi and clicked the air conditioner off, leaving a silent car, slowly driving down the lane.

Approaching closer and closer to his destination.

He would talk to him.

And ask him,

"Why?"

Ok, So I understand it was pretty short, but yeah. Please don't blame me...

Alright, anyways I'm going off to... hopefully write some more, and yeah... Stupid projects.

Sayonara!