In which Oikawa learns that a King who loses his Queen is destined to lose the game.
'He spent so long chasing the moon that he forgot about the stars that have always been there for him all along...'
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The Oikawa fanfiction that no on...
Summer [Sunday 1 July] - Third Year of High School
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GROWING UP, EVERY little girl falls in love with fairytale storybooks about princesses, fairy godmothers and castles. I was no exception, blissfully daydreaming of the day a dashing knight in shining armour would come on a white horse to sweep me off my feet, and take me away from a pitiful Cinderella life of homework and chores. As I grew up, that didn't change much. In a world of harsh realities and nightmares, wouldn't we all rather look for magic in worlds where good always triumphs over evil?
But although I envied each heroine's happily ever after, I admittedly didn't always understand her decisions.
Take sleeping beauty for example. Despite the entire kingdom's best efforts to be rid of every last spinning wheel, she still managed to prick her finger on a spindle. Why exactly did the princess follow the orders of a strange voice that told her to touch a sharp object - that had magically appeared out of thin air no less - atop a secluded tower?
Was it the curse? Fate? Stupidity? Or the malicious patience of a spiteful witch with an ability to hold a strong grudge?
These princesses were supposed to be role models, yet their only personality trait was kindness and their only contribution to society a pretty face. It was baffling. I could never understand it.
Until today.
I realise now that when your story has already been written for you, the only thing you can do is accept what comes next with grace and prick yourself so the story can proceed as fate intended.
Sometimes fate is a curse in itself.
It sure felt like one.
When I envisioned the day that I'd finally come face-to-face with a jealous witch who wanted my heart in a box, I didn't think we'd be surrounded by fragrant rosebuds and bathed in soft sunshine, in a place I considered a respite from my everyday duties. I didn't foresee that I'd be on my knees, the cracked concrete cold against my shins, head tilted up at the villainess of my storyline. In my head, I imagined her as a faceless vengeful entity that was intent on usurping everything I held dear, fixated on my destruction.
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