Hazama Miyume (
phantomcloud) wrote in
harmonize_rpg2013-10-16 06:24 pm
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Entry tags:
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Who: Miyume (Narrative/introspection)
Where: Her dorm room
When: April 26 (Wednesday), late night
What: Night thoughts. Miyume has a lot on her mind. Vague references to girls kissing.
Miyume couldn't sleep.
However, she couldn't do what she normally did and text people until she dozed off. Sakakibara still had her phone. She wondered what the other girl was thinking, if she'd read the messages or simply decided she was better off not knowing. Miyume wouldn't blame her if she simply gave the phone back to her and went about her business with Mirai same as usual. She'd closed her eyes to the truth, too, after all, and buried it under lie after lie to herself until it stopped hurting so much.
There was some kind of poetic justice, Miyume thought, that she'd fall for the exact kind of man her mother had. She'd been warned so often by her family and by Ayana of the dangers of being such a die-hard romantic. Hoping for a grand love affair like the ones in the manga she read and loved so much was stupid. After today, she could see it with painful clarity for herself. It'd all been just some dumb fantasy romance she'd dreamed up because she couldn't handle the truth that half the time she felt dead inside and the other half she'd trade her soul for it to be true.
It took a moment for Miyume to realize she'd started crying again. The tears trickled down her face onto her pillow. No one she knew here truly understood how fragile bodies were or how entangled with one another that mind, body, and spirit were. She was sick. She'd always been sick. As time passed on, the ways simply multiplied and changed form. And she was tired of suffering.
Miyume hugged her pillow, more tears streaming down her face. No matter what she or anyone did, her future would always be restricted by her body's limitations. For four years, she'd watched her future dance through light and shadow to the whims of an unseen, mad puppeteer. Maybe this doctor would have the answers for why her body had started waging war against itself. Maybe that one would know of treatments and cures her family would never be able to afford. Maybe her mother would find a new, better paying job and they'd be able to finally get out of debt.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
Miyume sobbed hard into her pillow. She was tired of faking smiles and sympathy for people who ignored their blessings or took them completely for granted. Being surrounded by people who could walk without aid, run, and dance without it turning into an exercise in agony hurt almost as much as her legs did. All of these lucky people oblivious to their own good fortune while she struggled just to find shreds of basic human dignity within herself and convince herself she wasn't a total waste of society's resources.
Miyume would have expected herself to have a higher tolerance for humiliation with how much she'd endured it throughout her life. Dating Mirai hadn't been some miracle cure for her utter worthlessness as a human being, after all. She was still as useless on her own as she'd always been. Ayana had been right all along. She did need a keeper.
Her tears slowed as her thoughts wandered to Ayana. She truly had treated her horribly since coming to Chitoku. Now that she was completely alone, she let herself be warmed by feelings and memories of her oldest friend. The guilt was still there but without her other burdens weighing her down just then, she could examine it and the feelings surrounding it more closely.
Unconsciously, Miyume touched her lips as they tingled slightly with memory. Not of Mirai but of another kiss with someone else, one that had been given to her by someone else just as precious and just as frightened. She and Ayana had never spoken of it afterward, had just laughed it off as 'practice', and went on with their lives as if nothing had happened. If they'd talked about it instead of sweeping it under the rug, would any of this with Mirai had happened at all?
Probably not. Miyume wouldn't have had reason to look away from Ayana to begin with, if that had occurred instead.
She sighed into her pillow, vaguely aware that her tears had stopped. She felt strangely peaceful now, too, as if a coil of unresolved tension and hurt had finally begun to unwind. Maybe (and this was a good maybe for a change) that things had turned out for the best after all. She felt braver somehow, like she could stop running away from things back in Tokyo and face them with more conviction. Golden Week was just around the corner and Miyume would be going home then. Maybe she and Ayana could talk then and sort some things out.
For the first time since coming to Chitoku, Miyume felt like she might sleep well.
Where: Her dorm room
When: April 26 (Wednesday), late night
What: Night thoughts. Miyume has a lot on her mind. Vague references to girls kissing.
Miyume couldn't sleep.
However, she couldn't do what she normally did and text people until she dozed off. Sakakibara still had her phone. She wondered what the other girl was thinking, if she'd read the messages or simply decided she was better off not knowing. Miyume wouldn't blame her if she simply gave the phone back to her and went about her business with Mirai same as usual. She'd closed her eyes to the truth, too, after all, and buried it under lie after lie to herself until it stopped hurting so much.
There was some kind of poetic justice, Miyume thought, that she'd fall for the exact kind of man her mother had. She'd been warned so often by her family and by Ayana of the dangers of being such a die-hard romantic. Hoping for a grand love affair like the ones in the manga she read and loved so much was stupid. After today, she could see it with painful clarity for herself. It'd all been just some dumb fantasy romance she'd dreamed up because she couldn't handle the truth that half the time she felt dead inside and the other half she'd trade her soul for it to be true.
It took a moment for Miyume to realize she'd started crying again. The tears trickled down her face onto her pillow. No one she knew here truly understood how fragile bodies were or how entangled with one another that mind, body, and spirit were. She was sick. She'd always been sick. As time passed on, the ways simply multiplied and changed form. And she was tired of suffering.
Miyume hugged her pillow, more tears streaming down her face. No matter what she or anyone did, her future would always be restricted by her body's limitations. For four years, she'd watched her future dance through light and shadow to the whims of an unseen, mad puppeteer. Maybe this doctor would have the answers for why her body had started waging war against itself. Maybe that one would know of treatments and cures her family would never be able to afford. Maybe her mother would find a new, better paying job and they'd be able to finally get out of debt.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
Miyume sobbed hard into her pillow. She was tired of faking smiles and sympathy for people who ignored their blessings or took them completely for granted. Being surrounded by people who could walk without aid, run, and dance without it turning into an exercise in agony hurt almost as much as her legs did. All of these lucky people oblivious to their own good fortune while she struggled just to find shreds of basic human dignity within herself and convince herself she wasn't a total waste of society's resources.
Miyume would have expected herself to have a higher tolerance for humiliation with how much she'd endured it throughout her life. Dating Mirai hadn't been some miracle cure for her utter worthlessness as a human being, after all. She was still as useless on her own as she'd always been. Ayana had been right all along. She did need a keeper.
Her tears slowed as her thoughts wandered to Ayana. She truly had treated her horribly since coming to Chitoku. Now that she was completely alone, she let herself be warmed by feelings and memories of her oldest friend. The guilt was still there but without her other burdens weighing her down just then, she could examine it and the feelings surrounding it more closely.
Unconsciously, Miyume touched her lips as they tingled slightly with memory. Not of Mirai but of another kiss with someone else, one that had been given to her by someone else just as precious and just as frightened. She and Ayana had never spoken of it afterward, had just laughed it off as 'practice', and went on with their lives as if nothing had happened. If they'd talked about it instead of sweeping it under the rug, would any of this with Mirai had happened at all?
Probably not. Miyume wouldn't have had reason to look away from Ayana to begin with, if that had occurred instead.
She sighed into her pillow, vaguely aware that her tears had stopped. She felt strangely peaceful now, too, as if a coil of unresolved tension and hurt had finally begun to unwind. Maybe (and this was a good maybe for a change) that things had turned out for the best after all. She felt braver somehow, like she could stop running away from things back in Tokyo and face them with more conviction. Golden Week was just around the corner and Miyume would be going home then. Maybe she and Ayana could talk then and sort some things out.
For the first time since coming to Chitoku, Miyume felt like she might sleep well.