for asteroidbelt

[gothics]

For today, just for today, Tomoko was going to wear her blue dress.

Perhaps it didn't really matter, she thought, as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. The dress's shade was a blue so deep and rich it was almost black on certain angles, yet it still felt so foreign on her skin. It was a far cry from her usual selection of clothes, which was her thought when she opened this gift from Miu. She thought she wouldn't really be wearing it anytime soon.

Tomoko thought wrong.

The doorbell rang.

She hadn't even worn her headdress yet.

But there wasn't time for that - it usually took her fifteen minutes to find the perfect spot at the side of her head for it - and she really didn't want Ryusei to wait. So Tomoko did another unexpected feat, and brushed her hair and left it free of any adornments.

She rushed to the door. Smoothing her dress and calming her suddenly-frazzled nerves, Tomoko opened the door and smiled.

Comments

[gothics]

Go. It was such a loaded word. Because going didn't mean he would just go home, and show up the next day-- going, for now, meant he had to disappear. Possibly for a long time. Possibly forever.

Tomoko bit her lip. She couldn't-- oh, she couldn't say goodbye to him. She couldn't say anything, or else she would just burst.

Numbly, she reached for the rabbit's foot, placed in a jar. Then she took out lizard's tail, bat wing, butterfly antennae, and the white snake skin she'd so carefully kept all these years, and placed it in the same jar as well. A morbid concoction, maybe, but she knew Ryusei understood and that he knew this was who she was. Perhaps he knew this was her own way of saying goodbye. Her own way of making sure he didn't forget her. If, by some lucky chance he didn't lose the jar anywhere, then maybe he'd even come back.

"Take care," she said softly, moving the jar closer to him. "Please--" come back to me. "--stay safe." Pause. "And, and if you can... write to me?"

[asteroidbelt]

"I can't. I'm sorry." He wasn't sure he was allowed to take something like this jar, either, but he was already thinking of ways to stick it into his bag so that it wouldn't be noticed if anyone checked.

He got up, took the blanket from his shoulders and moved to drape it around hers. "Thank you for tonight," he said.

He had to leave now, immediately, or he'd linger. He felt like he should say something final. He'd already said good-bye so many times tonight; surely there was something stronger he could say to convey his feelings. The only phrase he could think of was very unfair. That and he'd already said it.

He shouldn't linger. He turned and started walking quickly to his bike. Don't look back. Don't look back.

[gothics]

Tomoko felt as if she should say something. But she'd forbidden him from saying the words even if he would only be voicing what she felt for him. She wondered why she never said anything earlier. Would it have changed anything if she did?

She felt as if she should do something. Maybe run up to him. Hug him. Even kiss him goodbye. But that would make it harder, wouldn't it? Because she wasn't sure if she could let him go, and she knew she had to. This was his decision, and there was nothing she could do to change his mind. Nothing she could do to make him stay.

He forced her to let him go, and a part of her knew it was understandable if she were to hate him. If she were to think of him as the one who hurt her. The one who left.

But she couldn't.

She wouldn't.

Tomoko looked up, saw the last traces of the meteor shower streaking across the sky. Then, it was gone, and the sky seemed all the more dark and bleak without the storm of light. It looked sadder as well. Emptier.

She glanced behind her, found that she was alone. Finally, finally alone. She drew her knees to her chest, bowed her head, and sobbed. It would be a good thirty minutes before she could draw enough strength in her bones to pick up after herself and go home.