From the start, she knew she had it made easy up 'till then
For sure she'd make the grade
Adorers came in hordes to lay down in her wake
Gave it all she had, but treasures slowly faded
The lights fade to black on stage, and the darkness envelops her vision suddenly as if coated with a layer of ink. The residual heat from the lamps slowly begins to cool, and the familiar scuffle of cameramen packing up their equipment for the day meets her ears. The host in the middle of the stage puts down her microphone, walks over to her, and makes a motion to pat her on the shoulder until she remembers her mistake, to which she immediately corrects herself with a small wave instead. She begins congratulating her on yet another brilliant performance. "How you do it, we will never understand. Keep on amazing us, Kohane! We look forward to having you again soon!" She says cheerfully. A few security guards wait at the doors, who escort her into the studio limousine. The guards have to shove past crowds of cheering fans, holding posters, asking her autographs and flashing cameras. They manage to squeeze her into the car where her mother waits, tallying personal accounts. A typical day in the life of Tsuyuri Kohane.
The limousine starts and she sits back, listening to her mother complain about how much they were getting cheated out of their contract or something like that, and she tries her best to calmly understand her mother's concerns. Today her mother seems more upset than usual though, and she keeps raising her voice, as if yelling at her would change anything about the problem at all. But she keeps on all the same, cursing everyone she can think of. She can tell even the driver is getting antsy. At least, his driving seems to say so. He's making sharper turns than usual, jerking the car at odd angles and speeding down tiny streets she'd never seen before. After a while the streets look less and less familiar and she's very sure she's not going the right way home. The sky outside starts turning to a deep and unnatural charcoal, as if a torrential downpour would start any minute. But the driver keeps speeding and jerking, and her mother keeps yelling. All she wants to do is get out of the car. Unnatural shapes begin forming in the fog, and she becomes very uneasy. She warns the driver to pull over, but he just won't listen. His eyes are trained on the road, as if nothing else exists. She starts screaming at the driver to listen to her, her mother screams that she's not listening, and everything is suddenly in chaos as the car spins wildly out of control and she closes her eyes.
Now she's falling hard, feels the fall of dark
How did this fall apart, she drinks to fill it up
A smile of sweetest flowers wilted so and soured
Black tears stain the cheeksthat once were so admired
She woke with a start, nearly tipping over her empty wine glass on the table. She groggily brushed her wavy blonde hair from her eyes, and sighed. Another nightmare. He'd been gone for a few days now, with no word from anyone. She knew the forces surrounding them were beyond the abilities of the city police…but somehow she felt she had to try. In her heart she had a sick feeling she knew what had happened and she didn't want to believe it.
More than anything, she worried about why he hadn't contacted her. She hoped he hadn't done anything drastic and thoughtless with his life. Or that someone else had. This was the least stable she had ever seen him. He hadn't been drunk, or under any substance abuse; but his turmoil was solely emotional and that's what frightened her the most. But as the days went by, the police had nothing to report. No bodies, no suspicious activities, no potential suspects. He was simply missing.
She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but she had been half-watching the evening news just to make sure she was right. She thought if Doumeki didn't show up there it just further confirmed her idea of where he was. Where no one could reach. So far, there had been nothing. But then she never really expected anything. He was gone. She knew he was gone. She poured herself another glass of wine. Hell, why not the whole bottle. Everything fell apart eventually. And there was no one left who cared what happened to her anyway.
She thinks when she was small, there on her father's knee
How he had promised her "you'll always be my baby"
Daddy, come quick
The Dreaming Tree has died
I can't find my way home
There is no place to hide
She was just about to down another glass when she heard a scratching at the door. Followed by a turning of the key, and a popping of the lock. The door creaked slightly on its hinges, and hesitated for a moment, when a man entered through the doorway. His hair was unkempt, beard unshaven, and his eyes were downcast and devoid of light. Still wearing the same clothes he left in. The silence was deafening.