MW: Guys, never post an epilogue when Clannad music is playing. It's going to make you wanna cry *burst into tears*
SEK: Pull yourself together, girl!
MW: I'm sorry. It's just that we're nearly at 200 reviews and this made so many people happy and I actually feel really depress over its ending.
SEK: There's still the sequel.
MW: True. Anyways, please enjoy and GOSH DARN IT, I HAVE TO TURN THIS MUSIC OFF.
Chapter Summary: Everyone tries to move on.
Warnings: Strong Language, Yaoi, and Yuri
Disclaimer: And in the end, I still only own my OCs.
~Epilogue~
Back to the Real World
"The fact is you can't escape the past by moving on, it just moves with you."
-Fabian Black, British Author
No Cycle: Friday
Turkey laughed again, this time a small snort in his booming vocals. Iceland smiled at him, harboring a tall glass of beer between his hands. Somehow, France and England had managed to convince Bartender Pangaea to open the bar for what they claimed was a post prom party. "It'll keep the couples from having sex in the classrooms," France had said, sealing the deal. His voice had been so sure that no one would have suspected the lie.
They were not here due to the prom, but due to Sadiq.
Iceland smiled again, taking a small sip. He and Pops sat at the bar, drinking to their heart's content in the dim but inviting light. Turkey had done it- he was free and the Nordic could easily tell. His smiles came more easily, his laughs were louder, and his eyes were younger. He seemed like a younger man- one who could have once formed a vast empire. He was younger which, when Iceland thought about it, was rather ironic considering what the man was rambling about.
"Seriously, kid you should have seen her- she was so young!" Turkey exclaimed, swinging a long drink of whiskey. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, still laughing at the idea. "She still had this baby face and God! She looked like such a teenager with this acne covered cheek and-" He drank again. His grin suddenly fell into a tight frown. Iceland blinked, surprised at the sudden change in mood.
"Hey Pops, what's up?" he asked, watching the other man place his drink back on the counter. "Is something wrong?"
The Turk scratched the back of his neck, looking down sadly at the bar. The room around him was so full of their own celebration that they did not even notice his sudden silence. France and England were excitedly fretting over Seychelles, trying to love her and get the full story from her. She, an arm and both legs wrapped in bright white casts, was brushing them away and trying to talk to her boyfriend about some excuse for her recent behavior. Iceland noticed that her eyes kept flickering towards Turkey.
He didn't know why, but every time he saw that his grip on his glass tightened.
Just as Prussia yelled in jealousy over Liechtenstein and Italy's new relationship, Turkey pressed his lips together. "Do you remember- way back during THE WAR—before I started dating Switzerland?" he asked, scratching his neck.
Iceland nodded. How could anyone forget THE WAR? Those were some crazy days. Living on ships and acting like pirates; something like that leaves a mark. "Yeah, I remember it," he replied. "You were kind of an ass back then."
Turkey winced. In a way, he had to admire the Icelandic's blunt nature. "Well, about that . . ." He gently placed his elbows on the bar and hunched over his liquor. A stressed breath escaped his nostrils. "There was this girl," he started, hesitance dripping from the air.
"A girl?" Iceland was quite sure he did not hear that right. The pops that he knew did not like women like that. Back in the days when the nations could swing either way without any judgment, Turkey chose to waste his time on one night stands with humans. To him, countries were a long explored territory. He had to do something different. Therefore, he never messed with the same person- male or female -twice. To have a special person like that was impossible. Iceland could tell that by the wistful tone in his voice, it was obvious that there was something more than a simple fling going on.
Thus it came quite a shock to him when the other nodded. "Yeah, a girl." He brought his drink to his lips again.
Iceland shook his head. "Look Pops, I like your honesty and everything, but what does this have to do with anything?"
Again, Turkey sighed. In the white noise, he heard the room applauding America and Denmark's new cosplay as Loki and Iron Man. It was loud- a mixture of prideful yelling and amazed laughs. Yet to him, everything was practically silent. "Sherry looks exactly like her."
The silver haired teen raised an eyebrow, face painted with confusion. "That's impossible" Iceland denied, uneasily tapping his foot. His finger tapped the wood counter, the nail making a loud ti-ti noise. "THE WAR happened centuries ago. A human cannot live for that long."
"Here's the thing- Agatha looked a few years older," Turkey determinedly explained. "Sherry looked a little younger than her. It could be possible that she and Agatha are sisters." He suddenly registered the Nordic's condescending expression. "Oh, Agatha was the girl's name."
"That's not the problem, Pops." Iceland slid out of his stool, motioning for Bartender Pangaea to take his half empty glass. "The problem is that you're implying that humans can live hundreds of years and only grow younger-"
Turkey gave a sullen look. "I never said that."
"You implied it." He started to march away, but a guilty conscience made him change his mind. After all, Pops was not to blame for the longful look Seychelles never gave him. Pivoting on his heels, he turned back to his friend and placed an apologetic hand on his shoulders. In a much softer voice, he said, "Look, I'm sorry Pops. I'm just a bit agitated right now. I just think that you're a bit high on relief. Why don't you give your head time to clear before you go off saying things like that?"
At first, the Mediterranean looked ready to protest. His mouth opened, but the hard look in the other's eyes made him close it again. Looking down wistfully, he fidgeted on his seat. "I guess you're right," he said. He forced a new smile on his lips and laughed. "I'm sorry Kid: I must sound really stupid right now."
He frowned. "That's not what I meant-"
"Of course it wasn't." Turkey downed another drink, as if to prove that he was not peeved the slightest bit.
Iceland groaned. "Pops, would you stop being so diffic-"
"Actually, I think I need some time to myself now." Turkey's smile gained just the right amount of blithe bliss that Iceland almost did believe him. But then his logic cried out that he was only acting that way because he had said those things. Iceland knew that if he had just smiled and let the man fantasize, he would feel no need to reflect.
So he started another objection, only to be cut off a third time. "A lot happened today and I really do need to stop and think about them," Turkey explained, seemingly unaware that he was rambling. A wry smirk flashed across his face. "If I don't then I might forget and end up repeating the same mistakes again."
It was a lost cause. Iceland squeezed the Turk's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I should have . . ." He stopped himself. What was the point of apologizing for something someone refused to believe was wrong? His hand loosened and his mind told himself to walk away and leave the old man to his peace.
But his body responded different.
Iceland wrapped his arms around Turkey's shoulders, pulling him close to his chest. The brunette barely blinked before he returned the favor and wrapped his arms around the younger's chest. "I'm glad you're safe," Iceland muttered, speaking into the crook of the other's neck. "I was really worried back there."
Turkey laughed. "That wasn't even me," he replied, slapping the pale teen's back. "What was the worst that could have happened?"
Iceland bit his lip. Would it be worth telling him? After all the excitement he felt for this Agatha person, he would practically be betraying him if he didn't. With a sigh, he leaned in and whispered a quick word into his ear. He felt Turkey's body stiffen and he could almost imagine the sweat gathering in his palms.
At this point, it would not be a good idea to leave Turkey alone. His eyes were wider and his forehead was perspiring. Still, the air around him was of solitude. It was stronger, far more impactful than him snapping for Iceland to leave him alone. So the nation followed his silent ordered and pulled away. "Stay safe Pops," he ordered before making his way over to his big brother Denmark.
The blond, dressed as Loki, was trying to reenact the showdown scene between Loki and Black Widow. The problem was that his Scarlet Johanson was Belarus and she did not like it when the Dane called her weak, especially when it was in front of her girl friend. Blood was to be shed if Iceland didn't do something.
Turkey watched him go, forced smile dwindling into a tight frown. Sighing, he turned his back to the world and hugged the sides of his glass. He looked down at the clear liquid, forcing himself to think.
All around him were happy people, off making good of their time away from their bosses. They drank beers and laughed at the jokes played on them. Everyone who his deal could have affected was living with no idea what exactly happened.
France and England knew, but they could never understand.
Iceland, for the most part, lived every cycle off in his own world.
No one knew where Estonia was.
None of them could understand the repetitive feeling of having to repeat yourself over and over and over again. None of them could understand how it was like to see your lifeline erode into nothing. The hope growing more and more dull with each passing minute. The feeling of the shackle in your pocket. . .
Turkey thoroughly believed that he was alone in this. Even when Poland screamed out his name and ran to kiss him, Turkey held onto his sorrow. His boyfriend, kissed his face, laughing in relief. "You, like, totally had me worried there," he exclaimed, the blond soft to the touch. "You should have, like, been there. Switzy and I totally went dancing and I saw him get his freak on . . ."
The brunette found a smile magically appear on his face. Poland's arms were sound- the only safe place there was. He pressed his face into those precious blond locks and felt himself frown. He had Poland to keep him safe, to love him, and to drag him out of the stress Himaruya had imposed on him. Sherry had no one. Like the jackass had explained, she had to keep quiet about it or else people would think that she was crazy. That girl would be completely alone in her self repair.
Turkey felt his heart ache. He had a responsibility to help her, especially—as Iceland explained- since she had placed her love in him. He hoped that one day, he would see her again. Perhaps, not as Seychelles but as herself. Then maybe they could talk.
He smiled. Talking sounded perfect.
Real World: Monday
This time, it was not the sound of Lady Gaga singing that woke me from my dreams. No, for the first in what felt like forever, I woke on my own accord. Moaning, I sat up and looked at my clock. The bright red numbers declared the time to be four in the morning. I had three hours before I had to get up for school.
I groaned, wondering why there was no light trying to enter through the crack in the blinds. Without their presence, it felt as though it was the middle of winter. I buried my face in my palms. It's been spring for so long that I've even forgotten that there was such a thing as 'winter'. I ran my dry hands down my face.
My dry hands.
Feeling my heart jolt, I tumbled out of bed. "Is this really happening?" I wondered, tripping over my feet and the crap on the floor to my door. The three foot distance turned into twenty yards as my desperation grew worse. Did it finally happen? I practically slammed the door opened. It was a miracle that the loud bang I created didn't wake Mom, Jerry, and Larry.
My panic disappeared for a moment as I stared. The dark hallway I grew up in seemed like an alien land. My heart seized. It was as if this was the first time I ever gazed upon it. With hesitance, I stepped into it and made my way to the bathroom. It was on the right side of the hall, right? I trailed my hand along the wall, slowly remembering how my house was laid out. The bathroom was just after the laundry room.
Quietly, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The darkness of the early hours engulfed me when I locked the door and stood still. The minute I turn on the light, I was going to be just Sherry again. Seychelles was not lurking in the depths in my head, ready to turn me into a hooker. Ari wasn't going to be leaning against a wall, observing and sorting the world around him. Sadiq would no longer be around to kick my butt and to later apologize for it.
It became hard to breathe.
Everyone was probably moving on with their lives right now. I could see Seychelles talking fondly with Germany, Ari hugging his puffin, and Sadiq loving his boyfriend. Soon, Sherry Sue was going to be nothing but a memory. But I didn't want to forget- how could I? Sadiq, in the room, he . . . After everything we went through, it would be a crime to just cast away everything we did together. The bad things were shielded by the fun times I had, weren't they? I had no horror story to tell from this.
My fists tightened. Like them, I can move on. I can go through school, laugh with my family, and draw without having to always think about them. Eventually, they will become nothing more than a dream I once thought was real. But for that to happen, I had to first look at myself.
I placed a finger under the little tab thingy and smiled wryly. Wasn't there that Peter Pan quote that was always floating around the internet? "Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting"? How fitting.
When the lights came on, I was not blinded. Instead, the fluorescent glow gently brightened my face and brought life to the wall mirror above the sink. I placed my hands on the white porcelain and stared at myself. My skin was white, but littered with freckles and pimples. My hair was a flaming mess, not the supermodel locks Seychelles took pride in. The white in my eyes were a pale red.
I lowered my head as something began to rumble up my chest. My whole body shook until a single noise slipped out: a chuckle. That chuckle grew louder and longer, until it morphed into a full blown laugh. I held my sides as I tried to keep quiet. I felt ridiculous- why was I even worried in the first place? I was me and for now, that was okay.
At this point, I was so riled up that there was no point in trying to go back to bed. I didn't think that I could fall asleep ever again without wondering if I would wake up back in Gakuen Hetalia. Quickly, I splashed cold water onto my face and returned to my room. This time, I moved with confidence and as much grace I could manage. Somehow, I still ended up stubbing my toe on the door frame.
After hopping on one foot as I cursed every door known to man, I finally got around to turning on my bedroom lights. Everything from my messy bed to littered floor was re-engraved into my memory. I frowned. Seychelles probably never had a room like this.
Still in my white tee and puppy pajamas, I plugged my headphones into my ears and got to work. First, I cleared away all the crap that was on my floor- old clothes, shoes, papers, the remains of something unknown. I placed all the trash in my wastebasket and sorted my dirty clothes from my clean ones. That brought a new challenge to light.
Why take my clothes off the floor my closet was in no shape to house them? Just looking at it, I had to cringe. Clothes, shoes, and miscellaneous junk weaved together in a crude spider web. I didn't know how I could have lived with that before. How did I think that was normal? Gosh, I was such a pig sty. Humming along to Lady Gaga, I laboriously placed all my shoes in a neat row and reorganized my hangers. I discovered a few of my old backpacks from elementary school and a coat I hadn't worn since eighth grade.
I used to love that thing too.
An hour later, I smiled in triumph. Hands on hips, I looked over my job well done. My floor looked nice and my closet was actually usable. Martha Stewart would be proud of me. But there was still something wrong- my walls were wrong. I still had my drawings and anime posters tacked into the plaster. And by anime posters, I mean the faces of Hetalia characters.
I didn't want them there. There was such a difference between the Studio Deen drawings and whom I actually saw that it was mind blowing. The main one- I found -was that they were real people with real emotions and feelings. They wouldn't like their faces used like this. Who was I to invade their privacy or disrespect them like that? This time, I scowled. In my head, I knew that it was a bit obsessive but that couldn't change anything. Still, I knew that the thought was never going to let me rest.
Tuning into something by Adele, I pulled up my desk chair to the most loaded wall. I carefully stepped onto it (damn thing had wheels on it) and took a deep breath. To the most perfect drunk songs, I carefully pulled each tack out and placed the shiny papers on the floor. One by one the posters and drawings came down, even the ones that weren't Hetalia.
I didn't want them anymore.
My arms were aching when I finished. Still, I sat on the floor and rolled up the official stuff and stacked my own works. All of them were fitted underneath my bed. Maybe one day, I would get the courage to put them back up. Right now, however, I was still too afraid. Shaking out my arms and rolling my shoulders, I looked up at my room.
It was almost unrecognizable. With everything neat and organized, my room seemed bigger, more airy. I sighed and laid down on my floor. Hmm, I almost forgot that my walls were even white.
I still had an hour and a half until Mom would be up. There had to be something I could do. Hands behind my head, I glanced up at my desk. Out of everything in my room, this was the only area that was clean from the start. It made sense- it was the one place where I used to always draw.
Draw.
Within a split second, I jumped to my feet and ran to my desk. Somehow I managed to get my excited butt onto my chair. I pulled out a new sheet and paper and the nearest pencil. For the first time in what felt like years, I drew the perfect line. I smiled, drawing an expert circle. Then, a rough sketch of a human figure. I wanted to do a victory dance. I could draw again. It was as if I never had to stop.
High on happiness, I tossed that paper aside and pulled out another. As I sharpened my pencil, I thought about my task. I had to draw something- I knew that for sure. The problem was what. I looked up and saw my blank walls again. There had to be something I could put up there.
I knew what I wanted to draw.
In careful, precise strokes, I started sketching out a face. I added the features- a nice nose, a strong chin, and a smirk. I paused at the eyes. Which ones did I want? The tired, haunted look I remember so clearly or the relieved, joyous ones that lightened my heart. Somehow, I did a mixture of the two- eyes that seen every struggle to man, but with a hope. They knew that it was going to end soon and for their favor. I smiled. Yes, that was perfect.
Once the hair and shading was added, I could recognize him. Sadiq was there, smirking straight at me. I smirked back down at him. He looked nice, though there were many other looks he gave me. There was his annoyed glare and his guilty, apologetic face. I knew for sure that I would be drawing him again.
I frowned before banging my head on the desk. The crap, he never told me what shea butter was! He promised that he would when this all ended. "If I ever see him again, I'm going to strangle it from his throat," I mentally grumbled. I didn't know if I was imagining it or not, but I swore that I could hear his victorious laughter.
I pinned the portrait on the wall by my bed and started the next one. Ari appeared at the end of the lead, looking cool and calculating. I tried my best to mimic the glint of curiosity in his eyes, but I didn't think I got it right. "Its fine, though," I thought, pinning that one next to Sadiq's. "I can always try again later."
I didn't know whether I should draw a Seychelles, France, or England portrait next. So, I instead started outlining a family portrait of them. It was a scene in my head- the girl helping her two parents with student council work, smiling and thoroughly enjoying herself in the process. However, my actual alarm sounded before I was finished.
Smiling at Lady Gaga's voice, I placed my pencil down and promised myself that I would finish it right after school. I still had to draw Liechtenstein, America, Denmark, Germany, Prussia, Estonia-
I shook my head. I didn't want to draw him. I wanted that man out of my life forever. But I could still see his glare behind my eyelids. That victorious smirk and those cold eyes. His bloody body sprawled out dead on the glossy white floors. . .
I would be drawing him, but only as a release. Then those pictures were going to be ripped up or shoved into a lonely corner. I did not want his face by my bed. It haunted me enough already.
By the time I had "You and I" silenced, I heard the sweet, sweet tune of my mom banging her hand on my door. "Are you up, Sherry?" she asked, not sounding the least bit tired. "It's time for school." My name sounded weird coming off her lips. Only Sadiq, Seychelles, and occasionally Ari called me that. Who was she to do so? Oh yeah, she's my mom; she has rights. I suddenly dreaded the next few days. It was going to take a while to get used to not being called Seychelles.
"Um, yeah, I'm up," I called back, trying to sound confident. I started moving around my room for effect. "I'll be down in a few minutes."
". . . Alright then. . ?"I could practically feel Mom's uneasiness. She always had to drag my ass out of bed and force me to come down for breakfast. Me actually being ready for the day simply did not happen. I listened to her steady steps as she walked away before knocking on Larry and Jerry's door. The sound of the elder twin's groans made me smile. At least that hasn't changed.
I realized for the first time that I had no idea what to wear. Before I just threw on the academy's uniform and did my hair. The idea of actually having to coordinate my outfits suddenly seemed too monumental to overcome. As the sweet noise of Larry cursing the world as Jerry dragged him out from under his sheets rang throughout the house, I settled for a pair of jeans and a Sailor Moon shirt.
I wonder why they call them 'pairs of jeans' anyways. They're only one of them. Is, like, each pant leg a jean?
The laces to my conversed were tied and I was almost ready to make my debut appearance. I just had to do one last thing. Why spend so much time cleaning my room if I was just going to leave the bed a mess?
I pulled the sheets on neatly and smoothed out the wrinkles. Hell, I even tucked the ends underneath the mattress. My puffy purple comforter was laid on top and I rediscovered an old friend. It was Bunny- the blue stuffed animal Dad got me so long ago. A melancholic smile stretched across my face when I saw the missing patches of fur. If anything, Bunny was currently the best thing to keep my company.
I picked him up and pressed it into my face. I closed my eyes, becoming lost in the nostalgic softness. I took a deep breath in and smelled him. Somehow, he smelled softly of Mom's floral perfume. Must be from that one time I was playing dress up with him and I sprayed the majority of the bottle into his fur. My knees buckled at the memory and I eased myself onto the bed.
My butt landed on something hard.
Reluctantly, I freed my face and put the stuff animal on my lap. I stood a little and reached underneath my blankets. I tried my best not to disturb my spectacular cleaning skills, but most of my sheets were yanked from their position when I felt it. Dread washed over my being. It couldn't be that.
Carefully, I pulled out Himaruya's glasses. I squealed, nearly dropping them. What was this doing here? This was supposed to stay in the void with Sadiq. How did it even get here? Last I checked, my consciousness was the only thing that switched universes. Still, I remembered the way Sadiq smiled at me when he took the pocket watch. That sad, sad look in his eyes after he drew back from the kiss.
I brought my fingers to my lips. I think I understand now. He was distracting me, making sure that I didn't notice him steal the only item anchoring me there. But why would he switch it out for the glasses? What difference would that have made?
I remembered him talking to Seychelles, telling her about how the only thing that remained of Himaruya was his glasses. Every video game that I knew of always has it so that if the hero didn't destroy every last bit of the villain, he would return to fight another day. What if he was trying to do the same thing? What if Sadiq was making sure that there would be no possible way for Himaruya to come back?
My hands shook. I didn't want this. I didn't want to be the keeper of something as damned as this. If I screw up, our lives were going to be thrown back into chaos. I just knew that I was going to mess this up somehow. "But Sadiq trusts me," I thought. "So I've got to try."
I wrapped the pair of glasses in an old sock and placed it in the bottom drawer of my desk- the one with the lock in it. I would figure out how to destroy it later.
Swinging my own ridiculously heavy backpack over my shoulder, I was ready to go downstairs. A little past seven in the morning, I stepped back into the hallway. The light made it easier to see the family portraits hanging on the green wall. My family's smiling faces encouraged me to make my way down the hall to the stairs.
The last stretch of the hall was above the kitchen and living room. I lingered at the banisters, crouching so that I could fit my head between the rails. Mom was at the stove, expertly flipping Bisquick pancakes. Her half eaten Jell-O pudding cup was sitting at the granite counter, waiting for her to continue to prove her high metabolism. Jerry and Larry's red heads were like vivid dots against the wood floors. Their small statures- still clothed in their Pajama shirts and boxers -seemed so innocent as they waited for her to finish their meals. All I could do was look down.
Everything seemed so normal. This was just another day in the Sue household- no one would expect that anything was different. No one would expect that last night I was off in a different world. My hands tightened around one of the white banisters until my knuckles were white. A nail was being driven into my head and I wanted to cry. Shit, I missed them so much. I thought that I was never going to see them again.
"What are you doing, Sher?" I flinched and looked down. Larry was looking back up at me with a scowl. His thin brows were knitted together in annoyance. Mom and Jerry followed his gaze, surprise at my hiding spot.
I couldn't bring myself to scowl back at him. Instead, I climbed down the stairs, an uncertain look on my face. "Sherry, is something wrong?" Mom asked, placing the spatula next to her dessert. A second later her warm hand was on my forehead. "You seem sick."
Everything just became too much.
I flung my arms around her small waist and buried my face into her chest. I kept my eyes closed, not that it made any dam against my tears. A loud sob broke through my throat. "Mommy . . ." My mother immediately wrapped her arms back around me and cooed soothing noises. Her soft hands pet my head, as if trying to wipe the distress from me.
"Mom, what's wrong with Sherry?" Jerry asked quietly. Quiet, but concerned.
Larry huffed. "Jer, there is such a thing as PMS-"
I could imagine Mom's deadly glare. "Larry!" She scolded, holding me tighter. Her anger was enough to make my brother give into defeat and shut his mouth. Once so, she sighed and returned to her eternal kindness. "Why don't you and Jerry go upstairs and get ready for the day." He started to object. "Now please."
Their bare feet pattered on the wood as their climbed back up the stairs. One grumbling, the other sending off worried vibes. It was only when she heard the sound of their door closing did Mom force me to look at her. Her beautiful pale visage was so calm, so loving that I could not pull my eyes away, even if they were blurry from tears. "Sherry, what happened?" she asked. "Why are you crying?"
I hiccupped. I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted the pressure on my chest to just go away for good. But I couldn't. If Himaruya was right about one thing it was that if I told anyone, I would be considered crazy. Even in victory, I was still facing his punishment. This sucked.
So I instead told her, "It's PMS and I was watching Air TV just now. Misuzu . . . "
Obviously, Mom also watched that show. "Sherry, you know how Key is like," she said. "By watching their stuff, you're guaranteeing a tear fest." The scent of burnt pancakes drifted to our noses. I frowned. It easily masked Mom's floral scent. "And besides, you said that you were never going to watch any more of their work after what happened in Clannad," she added, turning off the stove and placing the food on the plate.
The smoldering substance made me realize that I never tried England's cooking. Damnit, a once in a lifetime opportunity and I missed it.
The woman looked down at the food and sighed. "Great, more batter wasted. It's enough that your brothers always eat that stuff anyways."
I reached over and snatched the burnt Canadian staple, saying, "Well here, I'll eat it. I gotta get to school anyways."
Mom raised an eyebrow as I quickly rushed back to the top of the stairs. "This early?" She asked quizzingly. "What business could you possibly have?"
As I grabbed my bag, I put my new lying skills to use. "I was going to retake my geometry test." I scratched the back of my head, saying meekly, "I kind of did fail it. . ."
Her skeptical look continued for a second longer, but she eventually sighed in defeat. "Well I wish you luck then." Trying to mimic happiness, I hopped back down the stairs with my bag. I shoved a big piece of pancake into my mouth, making sure that I didn't have to give any further explanation. I called out a muffled goodbye and ran for the front door.
"And Sherry?" I paused, hand on the door knob. Mom hugged me again and placed a kiss on my forehead. "When you want to tell me what's actually wrong then I'll be here to listen. Always. Understand?" I forced a smug grin and quickly escaped through the door without a response. One day I'll figure out how exactly she always knows. Maybe it's a perk of being a mother.
The morning air was cold, making me immediately wish that I had a jacket. But even with an overcast sky, I didn't want to risk turning back and getting one. Mom might play Jedi mind tricks on me and force me to confess. There was no way I would allow that to happen.
Hugging my arms, I started to walk to school. The sidewalks were mostly empty, save for the occasional homeowner in their robe searching for their newspaper. I didn't know what was wrong with the paper boy for this neighborhood- he always seemed to throw them onto the strangest of places. One time I woke up to find the opinions page stapled to my window.
Where he even found a stapler strong enough to pierce glass would always remain an enigma.
For the whole walk, I could not stop thinking about the glasses in my drawer. They were just sitting there, waiting to be stolen. What if while I was school, Himaruya somehow broke into my room was retrieved them? What if he hurt Mom in the process? I pushed the paranoia out of my head. He's dead; that could never happen. I just had to believe that one fact.
Himaruya was never going to show up again.
"Sherry!" I looked across the street and realized that I was in front of my old elementary school. There was a sidewalk that walked between it and the local park. Trekking across the rich green carpet was Bella. Her blond hair was pulled into low a braid, framing her milky white face. Her cute dress and sandals were ruined by the large gym bag hanging from her shoulder. She must have a soccer game today.
For the first time in forever, I truly wished that she wins.
"What are you doing up this early?" The girl asked, somehow managing to get hug me, gym bag and all. "You usually have to run to class." I laughed with her, realizing how odd this was. It was as if we did not get into an argument just last night.
I sighed. Now that I think about it, doesn't she always do this? Pretend that there are no problems in the world? Isn't that how she earned her Mary-Sue status? By adapting to her ruined family life?
Bella pulled me away, giving me a concerned look. "Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, trying to sound light hearted and merry. "You're never in a bad mood this early in the morning."
I sighed again. Might as well come out and tell her. "Bella, I-"
"Even on Mondays you're usually chirpy," She rambled, completely unaware that I was even trying to speak. "This is weird, considering that most teens dread the ever persistent start of the school week-"
"Bella. . ."
"Heck, you weren't even in a bad mood when that flamer said that 'FrUk' sucked. And that's considering that they said that Seychelles roc-"
"I'm sorry, Bella!" Her voice fell dead. For a moment, we did nothing but stare at each other, her with curious shock and me with embarrassment. Feeling the heat gather in my cheeks, I look down, confessing, "Bel, I have been a real big jerk to you. I just haven't been a very good friend and stuff. So . . . I'm sorry."
She laughed. My blush grew deeper and her mellifluous voice spread through the crisp air around us. A bubble of anger gathered in my stomach, but I told myself to hold it in. I am supposed to be the bigger person here.
At last, Bella clapped a hand on my shoulder, saying, "I'm sorry Sherry, but why are you apologizing? You've done nothing wrong."
I blinked. "I what?"
"You're a great friend Sher and I wouldn't ask for anyone else." I felt my heart grow light. That was the greatest compliment anyone could ever give me. In happiness, I dropped my bag and embraced her. The blonde chuckled lightly and readily patted my back. "What is with you today? Did you go through a near death experience after Skype?"
"Just shut up and keep the compliments coming," I ordered, laying my head against her shoulder.
She smiled. "Alright. You're a great artist and I am envious of your abilities. And I also trust you more than anyone. If I had to, I would leave my soul in your hands." My thoughts immediately flew to Sadiq and Himaruya.
I pushed them and her away, shaking my head. "Okay, I'm good," I said, distractedly taking my bag off the ground. I could feel her confused look on my back, but I pretended not to notice. "Let's get going now. We don't want to be late."
Bella shrugged and started to walk away. "Detention would be well worth a fluffy moment with you."
"We are changing the subject now" I said, trying to sound annoyed. Still, a laugh slipped from under my lips. I followed after, asking, "So how's Stella doing with the drama club?"
So the day continued on, the events of that time never more than just suspected. Eventually, everyone forgot about my weird behavior and went on with their lives. At first, I tried to follow their lead and banish the memories from my head, but only thinking about what happened would leave me stuck in a dark place. No matter what I tried, they were always there- lingering in my dreams, in my thoughts, and in the lines of my drawings. But no matter what, the one thing that never changed was my fears.
At first, I would have vivid nightmares about Himaruya and that instant in the void. He was dead, he was smirking, he was bloody, he was killing. I never figured out a way to be rid of them, I just learned to deal with it until morning.
Eventually, they came less often but his presence was always there. His breath, always breathing down my neck. But I only had to think of Sadiq and his bravery to pull me through those long nights. I only had to think of the glasses in my desk drawer to remember that Himaruya was never coming back. And, with that hope, I was able to look back with fondness, not anxiety.
Time flowed on and the people I met and the things I saw became a part of me. They were forever engraved into my heart and never to be forgotten. I could still feel Seychelles in my head every time I took a moment and looked things from another's point of views. In a way, I never judged somehow right off the bat anymore. I think Sadiq would be proud of me for doing so. I think he would slap my back and congratulate my maturity. I think he would like the person I had become.
As times passed, I was okay with the way things turned out. Even though I still yearned to go back, I was okay with staying in this world. And when it came to the day I left high school and went to art college, I even accepted the fact that I would never go back.
Unfortunately, things were never that simple.
No Cycle: Friday
The man stood on the clock tower, observing the sight. Even though they made attempts to clean up the blood, there were still a few smudges of red here and there. He sighed, cursing the laziness of adults who were supposed to be acting like teenagers. "Don't get your panties in a bunch," his accomplice said. "They shouldn't have to worry about such things."
"It's my world," he grumbled back, moving to the clock tower's edge. "They should try to take better care of it."
"They just went through hell and back- especially Turkey. They all deserve a time to celebrate."
He chuckled. "You are too kind," he replied dryly, looking up at the moon. It was full, hanging low in the midnight sky. "Hopefully, this is was enough to stop him for good."
This time, it was his partner who sounded somber. "I wouldn't get your hopes up. He's sneaky and will find a way to strike back."
A curt nod. "Yes, but I am still surprised that your choice actually worked. If it was anyone else this might not have ended so successfully."
"Correction- you didn't choose my original choice. The one I wanted would have ended everything much more quickly and smoothly. You stuck in the child I least wanted there."
He shrugged, setting himself on the ground. Hanging his feet over the edge, he said, "You don't give her enough credit. If anything, the trouble she caused was far more impactful than . . ." He trailed off, his lips dropping into a frown. Anxiously, he reached into his bag and pulled out a notebook.
"Hey, what's wrong?" The other asked, looking at the notes and pictures with him. Every pencil sketch and character note was quickly analyzed before flipping to the next one. "What are you looking for?"
The man didn't reply, only skipping a few pages to the more vague characters. At last, his eyes lingered under a history description. "They're all different," he breathed, flipping back to the front of the book. He saw the saw new alterations taking place. " . . . He's still alive."
It was silent for a long moment. "What? How do you even know? He-"
"He's not alive now, but he was back then." He focused his gaze on the changed part, making sure his companion understood what he meant. "And now everyone's history is changing."
~End of The Fangirl~
MW: And there you have it. Hopefully, this was not such a disappointment to you all.
SEK: I thought it was good—
MW: (You think that everything I do it good)
SEK: But you would all be sad to know that now you all will have to wait until the sequel preview.
BFTL: What about the symbolism cheat sheet.
MW: Well, here's the thing. Everything can be interpreted differently and if you guys saw one meaning in my work that I did not intend, then I don't want to ruin it. Therefore, you guys are all on your own with the symbolism (sorry). I expect the essay next Monday.
SEK: Right, so remember to review!
FunFacts
"Air TV just now. Misuzu . . . " Saddest 13 episodes of my life. I like Clannad better, but gosh, this show is sad. Misuzu is the main character.
~Acknowledgements~
Like always, thank you to SEK for proofreading especially when her grades are on the line. Now relax and go do some homework. Thanks to Blue for listening to me on our walks home as I rambled about plot ideas. Even though you said nothing, you helped a lot.
Many thanks to Hetalia Archives, Hetalia Wiki, and Google Images for character personalities, descriptions, and quirks. Special thanks to MoonSparrow for being a doll and The-Panda-Bread for fanart. Also to the people of tumblr for just talking about this. I felt famous.
And lastly, to the readers for reviewing, watching, and favoring, even when my updates were slow and less than satisfying. You all make this worthwhile. See you in the sequel!
Je vous aimes~!
-MidnasWolf
Next Chapter: Sequel preview and release date, which probably wouldn't come out for a while. But still, don't press unwatch just yet.
Thank you everyone! I love you all!