Lavender | Wakatoshi Ushijima

29 | Grieve

"Hel-" He whispered, just below his breath. His hand was slightly risen up, almost completing the shape of a waving hand.

Wakatoshi was walking down the main hall of the 3rd years' building, on his way to literature class. He began his habitual "hello" with a wave. He isn't the outspoken type, not at all. Meaning he'd say it in a low voice, and she would complete it by starting the conversation with her audible "Good morning, Wakatoshi!" To which he responds with an answer.

That beginning of his customary greeting took an uncustomary stop. It wasn't completed. Rather, it wasn't responded to.

It took him a second to register her pass by. She was in a throng of people rushing to their next class, yet he spotted her.

Maybe she's stressed, he thought. Though, she always finds him and greets him in the hall.

He couldn't deny the crawling feeling that the play could be affecting her. She'd been distant since then, not responding to his check up texts or any of his texts in her recognizable manner. That was the last thought that came to mind, it didn't make any sense to him. It just didn't, but it was a hunch.

He went to class in silence. He couldn't feel his pulse elevating and his positivity come around like usual after he greeted Hana every morning. She would always leave him thinking of a blossoming new idea or question every time.

I wonder when our next tutoring session is.
I think I should visit Mrs. Suzuki.
I wonder which flowers are going to bloom soon.

He let it go and stepped into his class, less uplifted than usual.

Hana, on the other hand, was in the torturing hell of her own brain.

I must leave him be, I cannot bother him anymore. He doesn't need me, so I shouldn't need him. Forget him. I'm in school to learn, not to cry. Did I bring my extra psychology research in? Yes I did. I checked. I'll check again, to be sure. Okay, I have it. The thought of her dirty string of lies to her mother stung, again. Mother cannot know I lied. What will I do? I can actually start studying for finals early, so I technically wouldn't have been lying. Right? No! I still lied. I can always tell her. Wait, no I can't! She could ground me or even stop me from going to college for all she cares! I won't say anything. I'll have to hold my tongue. What about Father?

It all looped between doubts, regret, guilt, and brewing exhaustion in every corner of her head. It just wouldn't leave her alone.

She went to school in a composed matter. The composure where she wouldn't allow herself to fall apart. The composure where she had to please everyone but herself. The kind that wouldn't give her time to care for herself. Rather, she never tried. She never believed in a person "taking care of themselves", as Kiyomi stated briefly in a conversation previously. It was simply a waste of time. 

How do you take care of yourself? Pamper yourself with a "relaxing spa day" and other worthless luxuries? That was an even bigger waste of time to her. The work she could invest her time in instead could be the same work getting her into the best university in the entire country, for god's sake. The top science lab, the prime law program, all of it could be waiting for her.

Her stress and gloominess were the easiest things to try to let go. She was used to bottling them in an opaque glass bottle that floated away into the sea of her memory. It was the heartbreak of the play that made her cry. She'd think of the image of their act of passion in such a detailed manner, it killed her. How deeply they closed their eyes, where their arms lay, how real it looked. Each night, she though and thought and thought. Until it was real to her.

She was so used to allowing it to define her self worth that she forgot it was acting in the first place.

"He wouldn't ever see me that way."

"Why would he like me?"

"I'm not good enough for him."

"He doesn't need me."

"I wish I told him."

"It's too late."

"I'm unlovable."

Who could've imagined that an individual thought could be reformed as a physical tear to be shed?

She knew Wakatoshi wouldn't love her. She didn't have the blond hair, the kind that would look its best with no effort. She didn't have the ultimate pale complexion or the athleticism. She's not enough for him nor will she ever be, she thought.

She could leave it all alone, like a tale. It could just be an unrequited love story she shed a tear or two for. She finally felt the experience, at least. It was painful how hurtful it is. No literary device from any author could ever tell how it felt like the sharpest needle point could stab the back like a dagger.

Those destructive nights she sat in silence in were all that she relied on to let those sentiments go. She couldn't tell anyone. Not her parents, not close friends, not Kiyomi, not Wakatoshi either. She wanted more than everything to pour her heart out to him, from A to Z. Her love for him, passion, life, health, and how he changed her for the worse and better, all of it.

She was eighteen now, an adult! She was fully capable of taking care of her own problems. Her stress and sorrow were relinquished in the the form of salty tears into her softest pillow. Tear after tear after tear, they kept on going. She would wait all day to let them out. Slowly, she'd break into strong sobs.

You'd think she's hallucinating. She never fully let her feelings go, because they came back each night to pester her heart again and again.

She'd get a throbbing headache after all the sobs that strained her. Still weeping, she'd wash her face with cold water and let her hair down. The water relaxed her. Rather it forced her to relax and stop tearing up. Momentarily, it took her thoughts away too. Deep into the night, it would be around three in the morning she would decide that she "let go" when she was torn into shreds. She'd take her pills gently as she would take the damp pillow and tuck it under her bed to dry over night. She'd get under her oddly thick blanket, tuck herself in, and lay her head down to finally drowse with burning eyes and a pounding head accompanying her destructed mind.

And soon enough, she remained that way for a week. She picked listening to her self consciousness and drowning in agony over watching the moon to make her fall asleep, as she used to.

As of now, two weeks since the play, the weight of her lies, work, and all else was stronger than ever. She decided to give him distance so she can let him be. She didn't need to stay near him. He didn't need her, nor did she think he wanted her. As a companion, as a lover, as a guider. She had no more energy to keep up with it, it could all thunder down before she knew it.

Focus on your academics right now, Hana. Don't be asinine.

She thought last as she headed to her next class, obliviously walking past a confound Wakatoshi awaiting her colorful greeting.

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Author: Hello everyone! I'm so exhilarated to be back and to present to you the 29th chapter!! We're almost at 30! It feels great to be back and writing. I do want to give you a heads up that chapter release will be at a slower pace, but other than that I'm super happy you've made it this far.

Happy Reading! <3