Post by Yuuto Tachibana on Mar 19, 2016 14:30:03 GMT -5
"Ice-cream only tastes good for the first three bites."
"Liar. You just want more for yourself!"
"Nuh uh! If you can catch a pig faster than me, you can take my ice-cream!"
"No fair! It'll melt by then!"
Two children dart past a manga stand. Sandals on the pavement. Na-na-ni-na-na. Can't catch me. Their stories are just beginning. Tales that will grow large like beanstalks, its tendrils dreaming of a misty cloud nine. Wonder if they'll point their finger to the moon and scream 'I want to be a shinigami!'
Tap. Tap. Tap. Bite-the-lip. Yuuto's eyes were fixed on a page, his mind caught in a world somewhere else. He had picked up a manga called Shigatsu wa Kimi no Uso. Your Lie in April. His hands gripped the page as he parsed and imagined himself as the protagonist in each page and in every single moment. The boy who couldn't touch a piano. A pianist who couldn't hear notes or keys. Someone tortured by his mother's smiles and wishes, wrapped up in the promise of making her feel proud. Fulfilled. Happy. Sounds just like him.
"How can you live with yourself, anyway? I'd rather be someone else." The thought raced by.
Tap. Tap. Yuuto stopped on a panel. A girl was staring straight at a boy. Eye-to-eye. Or maybe more like heart-to-heart. "Do you think they'll remember us? Do you think our music reached them?" She coyly asked. Yuuto paused. He wondered if his story would have crescendos like his manga. If he would have an audience to perform for. And if he would ever be remembered for being the crazy wannabe pianist for saying 'I love you!' on the third step of a mazurka. But, that was history. Yuuto was not a pianist, but an Academy student. Not a charmer, but a bookworm that preferred quiet corner rather than ballroom centerstage. No longer a jumble of energy that moved in cosines, but a steward of balance and harmony between dead and living. He had a straight path to follow, and he wasn't sure if he liked it. But what choice did he have? This was a dead girl's wish.
"Become a shinigami. Be someone. Don't be alone. Do this for me." Her last words creating an incessant loop in his mind. A shiver shot down his spine.
The sound of scurrying children feet returned. They felt rushed now, as if in a hurry. The sound of thick boots followed behind. "You thief! You've been hoarding pigs in your house!" A kid angrily shouted, followed by three burly men with sweaty tank-tops and wild grins that revealed missing teeth. The smell of whisky tainted the air. A girl cowered in defense, backing up against a wall while holding a small baby pig. It squealed and oinked for dear life. Yuuto stood only sheer meters away, manga in hand. Mind absent. Still fixated on becoming someone else and playing it straight for the rest of his life. The road with no hills and the least bends -- the good life. No more dirty hands. "The road less traveled just isn't for me." He rationalized to himself.
The village quarrel began picking up.
"I bet you're the daughter of a soul reaper!" One of the men snapped.
"No, I'm not! My father is a farmer!"
"Liar! Why weren't your pigs being sold to the village?"
"I saw a shihakusho hung up on her clothesline! She's a soul reaper! Soul reaper!" The restless boy chimed in.
"Stop it! Shinigami are not bad! They fight with their life to save us from hollows! They give us good food so we don't starve! They are here to save us. One of them is my...hero." The girl barely able to round off that last syllable.
Yuuto's ears perked up. Hero. Protect. Fight. Keywords that seemed like they came straight out of a Marvel comic book grasped his attention. "What would a superhero do?" He wondered.
"Point to the moon and swear you're one?"
"Crazy 'witch...I'll smack 'er in with my belt! I'll do it 'twice! Then we'll see if she cries 'oul reaper!'" One of the men grunted, inching toward her while dragging his belt across the ground.
Yuuto picked up his asauchi and raced for the small divide between the man and the girl. He raised its tip up to the man's nose, glaring at him.
"Sorry, sir. I can't have you do that. Heroes are not dead."
"Eh? What's this? A toy sword? Ahaha! Kid! This isn't time for fairy tales! 'Sep aside before I 'oughta smack you too!"
Yuuto locked eyes with the burly thug, strengthening his grasp on his wooden blade. It trembled in his hands, unsure of where or how to strike. It's hard to make an impact with only a block of wood. If only he had a dagger in hand, this could all end so much easier. Like the one that could pierce a girl's heart valve and shut down a story with the flick of a wrist. But she was gone now. A blade in his hand once again. Where would he get his fervor? Where would he get his strength? And just who would he fight for?
"Liar. You just want more for yourself!"
"Nuh uh! If you can catch a pig faster than me, you can take my ice-cream!"
"No fair! It'll melt by then!"
Two children dart past a manga stand. Sandals on the pavement. Na-na-ni-na-na. Can't catch me. Their stories are just beginning. Tales that will grow large like beanstalks, its tendrils dreaming of a misty cloud nine. Wonder if they'll point their finger to the moon and scream 'I want to be a shinigami!'
Tap. Tap. Tap. Bite-the-lip. Yuuto's eyes were fixed on a page, his mind caught in a world somewhere else. He had picked up a manga called Shigatsu wa Kimi no Uso. Your Lie in April. His hands gripped the page as he parsed and imagined himself as the protagonist in each page and in every single moment. The boy who couldn't touch a piano. A pianist who couldn't hear notes or keys. Someone tortured by his mother's smiles and wishes, wrapped up in the promise of making her feel proud. Fulfilled. Happy. Sounds just like him.
"How can you live with yourself, anyway? I'd rather be someone else." The thought raced by.
Tap. Tap. Yuuto stopped on a panel. A girl was staring straight at a boy. Eye-to-eye. Or maybe more like heart-to-heart. "Do you think they'll remember us? Do you think our music reached them?" She coyly asked. Yuuto paused. He wondered if his story would have crescendos like his manga. If he would have an audience to perform for. And if he would ever be remembered for being the crazy wannabe pianist for saying 'I love you!' on the third step of a mazurka. But, that was history. Yuuto was not a pianist, but an Academy student. Not a charmer, but a bookworm that preferred quiet corner rather than ballroom centerstage. No longer a jumble of energy that moved in cosines, but a steward of balance and harmony between dead and living. He had a straight path to follow, and he wasn't sure if he liked it. But what choice did he have? This was a dead girl's wish.
"Become a shinigami. Be someone. Don't be alone. Do this for me." Her last words creating an incessant loop in his mind. A shiver shot down his spine.
The sound of scurrying children feet returned. They felt rushed now, as if in a hurry. The sound of thick boots followed behind. "You thief! You've been hoarding pigs in your house!" A kid angrily shouted, followed by three burly men with sweaty tank-tops and wild grins that revealed missing teeth. The smell of whisky tainted the air. A girl cowered in defense, backing up against a wall while holding a small baby pig. It squealed and oinked for dear life. Yuuto stood only sheer meters away, manga in hand. Mind absent. Still fixated on becoming someone else and playing it straight for the rest of his life. The road with no hills and the least bends -- the good life. No more dirty hands. "The road less traveled just isn't for me." He rationalized to himself.
The village quarrel began picking up.
"I bet you're the daughter of a soul reaper!" One of the men snapped.
"No, I'm not! My father is a farmer!"
"Liar! Why weren't your pigs being sold to the village?"
"I saw a shihakusho hung up on her clothesline! She's a soul reaper! Soul reaper!" The restless boy chimed in.
"Stop it! Shinigami are not bad! They fight with their life to save us from hollows! They give us good food so we don't starve! They are here to save us. One of them is my...hero." The girl barely able to round off that last syllable.
Yuuto's ears perked up. Hero. Protect. Fight. Keywords that seemed like they came straight out of a Marvel comic book grasped his attention. "What would a superhero do?" He wondered.
"Point to the moon and swear you're one?"
"Crazy 'witch...I'll smack 'er in with my belt! I'll do it 'twice! Then we'll see if she cries 'oul reaper!'" One of the men grunted, inching toward her while dragging his belt across the ground.
Yuuto picked up his asauchi and raced for the small divide between the man and the girl. He raised its tip up to the man's nose, glaring at him.
"Sorry, sir. I can't have you do that. Heroes are not dead."
"Eh? What's this? A toy sword? Ahaha! Kid! This isn't time for fairy tales! 'Sep aside before I 'oughta smack you too!"
Yuuto locked eyes with the burly thug, strengthening his grasp on his wooden blade. It trembled in his hands, unsure of where or how to strike. It's hard to make an impact with only a block of wood. If only he had a dagger in hand, this could all end so much easier. Like the one that could pierce a girl's heart valve and shut down a story with the flick of a wrist. But she was gone now. A blade in his hand once again. Where would he get his fervor? Where would he get his strength? And just who would he fight for?
// 872 words
// 17 GP
// 17 GP