blackbox | kirishima eijirou

23 | flowerful paradise

The sun was exceptionally vivacious today.

That morning, like any other day, Sakura waited for the poison to slowly seep in to drain her mournful soul the moment her barren eyes flutter open. She prepared herself to feel the endless misery and anguish that had her clinging to the edge, waiting for something, someone, to grab hold of her hand tightly like an ivy crawling its stems around, the death-grip of a snake slithering its tongue to its prey—as long as one, doesn't let go of her meaningless story she desperately wants to close.

Peculiarly, she didn't feel any of that.

Because it was as if something had held her far enough from the edge before she could even see the end.

"Guys," she hears Riku whispering to the duo at the back, but it was loud enough for her to hear. "She seems to be in a good mood. Did that Kirishima guy kiss her or something?"

"I can hear you, dumbass," she rolled her eyes, still facing the front with a hand propping her chin as she waited for her name to be called out. "And like hell that'll happen. We're just friends."

"Just friends," Sora emphasized from behind her, sensing a teasing smirk on his lips.

"Fuck you guys." And then she stood up from her seat as her name was called out, walking to the teacher's desk.

She halted in front of the desk, glancing at his expression.

"So far so good, your grades are stable.. though I'm also pleased that you've improved as well," he stated as he handed the exam papers to her, gently taking it and thanked him with a small bow.

She internally screamed. She improved.

"See? I told you she's in a good mood," Riku says when she reached her seat.

"Will you guys shut up? So what if I'm happy right now?" She glanced at her papers, specifically on History. The girl gasped dramatically. "And I got a fucking A-minus, motherfuckers."

"Sometimes I forget Sakura swears a lot when she's really happy.." Yui deadpanned after seating back down who recently got her papers after her. "Thank God, there's not a single C grade."

"Oh shut up, be grateful. I got a fucking D again for Literature," Sora buried his face in his papers. "My parents are gonna kill me."

"Don't forget to invite us to your funeral then," Sakura snickered behind her papers, ignoring his menacing glare.

__________

Vincent Van Gogh is almost finishing his painting of Lycoris and Tulips—brushing small, diminutive and detailed strokes of his technique and aspect with the work of his magic hands, elegant, brilliant mind yet prone to any infirmity that creates a void in his rose-coloured heart.

None of that matters, Van Gogh thought. He only cared about the masterpiece that was going to be displayed on the wall because deep down, he knew no matter what people see, they wouldn't understand him.

All they could ever see was a field of thousands of Tulips and a few budding Lycoris.

But what Vincent Van Gogh could see was his paradise.

"You look awfully happy, Sakura-chan."

"What's that suppose to mean?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I don't know. You just look.." He pursed his lips and shrugged. "Happy. Like really happy."

Sakura keeps hearing the same word hours after daylight touches the surface. Some say she's in a good mood, some say it's because of how she did well for her exams, and some say it's because happiness was written all over her face.