Writings pt. I

Some writings/fanfics/etc. Yupp.

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The first one is a short that I wrote. I said I may make a short manga related to this. I might try my hand at that after I finish this painting I'm working on.
I may add onto this more later. idk yet, haha~


5.12

It rained all day today. A soaked, foggy version of a would-be paradise.
The heavens were coated a dark grey, sheets of rain pouring onto my town, forming reflections of myself on the pavement as I walked.
I look down, watching as I step onto another version of myself, only to have my copy dissipate as the water's ripples spread out from beneath my feet. My feet are damp, my slippers soaked. I continue to walk, my mind as foggy and overcast as the sky above me.
Bag in hand, a heavy weight that leans me to one side. It's times like these I wish I were stronger. Physically, emotionally, mentally. My hand tenses up from the weight, but I keep holding on until it becomes unbearable, my fingers red from strain. I release the weight to my other hand, juggling the weight from one to the other. I wish I were stronger.
I smile to myself at the cliche scene I happened myself into. Earlier I watched my relationship walk slowly away into the distance, the rain falling between us as our distance slowly increased. No longer could I look down onto the puddles and see the reflections of two walking side by side. I looked down at my reflection, my lonely, pathetic being standing alone in the rain.
This greatly cliched scene is complete. I am now alone.

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This next one is a short fanfic of Code Geass. Lelouch x Shirley, based on episode 13.

Shirley…
Lelouch was still sitting, clutching onto Shirley Fenette’s body, her spirit already gone and faded from his world. He didn’t know how long he’d been crying, but he didn’t care. He was overflowing with emotions, so full of regret, despair, and yearning.
He yearned for her touch, her voice. He will never admit it out loud, but Shirley was a person of great importance in his life.
She was one of the only people to see Lelouch as the young man that she always knew. She was still able to see the “old” Lelouch, even after knowing about his alter-ego Zero, and all the things he had done under his alias. She did not see Lelouch as a backstabber, as a betrayer, a leader, or a god. She saw Lelouch as Lelouch, and she loved him for that.
Lelouch killed her father. He erased her memories. He made her live a lie for a year. Shirley knew all this, and yet she still loved him.

She loved me.
Lelouch was overwhelmed with despondency, as he thought about her confession to him in the last moments of her life. She did nothing wrong, all she did was love him unconditionally. Loved a man who killed hundreds, tortured many, and manipulated even more.
And yet, this man is the one still alive, who clutched onto this love struck girl as she bled for the love of the man.
Why Shirley? She did nothing. She was not supposed to die. Not here, not now.
And as much as this man wished, as much as he cried, he wasn’t able to revive the girl. He held a high status and great power, but nothing could bring the girl back to him.
Everything that she did was out of love. This realization made Lelouch’s heart ache even more, and he could not help but cry outwardly in agony. She wanted to be next to him, through the good and the bad. He was alone amongst his army of Knights, and she knew this. She did not want him to go through all of this pain alone; this pain that was slowly tearing him apart. She wanted to be by his side, so he would have someone there with him at the end.
She wanted to be the one truthful thing to me...the only truthful thing.
Her words repeated inside Lelouch’s mind as he hugged Shirley’s body closer to him. He knew she was the only truthful person to him, and Lelouch knew that his trust died along with her.

The great king hunched lower to his queen, sobbing uncontrollably. A picture no commoner or Knight would ever see, an image of their king in such a helpless and defenseless state.
The sun faded behind a smoky, foggy sky, opening up for the night; the same way the light dimmed in the king’s heart that day.
For she represented all that was good, pure and light in his life. And with her gone, all that was left in his fading heart was revenge.

A fading heart, but still a heart.
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