Little Blue [Unordinary Fanfiction]

Prologue

Little blue, little blue, where are you?

In that dark closet, a tiny child, with eyes the color of the sky, was curled up and attempting to stay quiet.

"Uugh... mgh..."

Despite that child's desperate attempts to stay quiet, her sobs of fear still came through her hands. They pushed harder on her eyes that wouldn't stop the flow of tears.

My little one, my precious, my daughter too.

Below her, on the first floor of their home, there was another crash. Something cut through the air. Following that soon, something was heard to have shattered.

"GET OUT!" a voice, protective and upset, had screamed.

Wondrous, perfect, you hung the stars for me.

Such was her existence to him below, who was attempting to protect her.

At his shout, she cried more. Unable to even attempt to be quiet, she now worked to only breathe amidst her wails.

"Pa... Papa-!"

Your existence to me, was such as the moon.

A shrill scream tore through her lips, rattling her world around her.

Her small hands trembled before her, her pale skin stained red.

Drip. Drip. The viscous liquid fell in tiny, scarlet droplets, from her dyed palms.

"――Uaaahhhhh!"

Little blue, little blue, where are you?

Eyes matching the color of her own, hazy and void of life, stared back at hers.

"Shit-!" a man who looked to be a basic thief, wearing clothes to hide his face, ran to escape.

My little one, my precious, my daughter too.

Crash. Everything in the space trembled, shattering, floating, anyone who looked in could say, that the world's force, gravity, had spun out of control.

A table, pressured under heavy weight, became dust. A single vase, was possibly the only thing that kept its form, pinned from the bottom to its surface, and the space around its top, having no weight at all.

You, who hung the stars for me, and was my source of strength.

He remembered thinking, believing.

If she stayed strong for him, that was all he would ever need. It was okay if she hated him. So long as she could stay strong, grow up into a strong woman, that was all he needed. He need only to watch her grow with him by her side.

Good for him, then.

"Papa-! Papa!"

Because, now that his life had faded from his eyes, he would not have to witness that child, crying and bringing destruction to their home in her distress.

He wouldn't have to see the police dragging her away from him.

He wouldn't have to witness those moments of her pitiful weakness.

Come on back. Stand up straight, keep your back tall.

In that crime scene, all that stood left in that destroyed home, was the shine of a vase, which held a single, freshly watered, flower.

Pull your emotions back into your chest, hon.

Her eyes snapped open. Her face, realizing she had once relived that moment again, contorted with grief.

"Pa..."

You, whose name I couldn't even whisper.

Stay with me. I'll be alone if you aren't here.

Do something with these emotions, she bid herself. Or else...

Or else...

Like that same child of before, she curled up into a ball, and wept into her hands.

Take my hands. I can't walk without you.

Faced again with the reality, what did she do? What could she do?

Watch me. You need to be there to help me.

If she could have done something, he would surely have been alive. Why why why why was she just-!?

That grand existence, who was always there for her, was who her world revolved around.

"Aah.."

Enough. Stop talking. Pull your voice in. Pull that weakness in.

"STOP CRYING! Do you know why you're here!? It's because you're a problem child!"

Little blue, little blue, where are you?

A man with strict blue eyes gave her a hard look.

Gazing down, she saw her small wrists, locked into big, blocky handcuffs.

Come back, you and your feelings, back to where they belong. Into that chest of yours, under lock and key.

"Kuh..."

She sobbed in the dark room, which felt too small. The walls pushed closer until they became a closet once more.

In that room―rather, in that closet―

She was strong. She wouldn't cry in front of others. Like they wished, she would be strong and smile.

――Like a pitiful child, lost with no idea of where to go, she continued to cry in the dark.

If she wasn't strong right now, if she was crying right now, unable to even seem like everything was alright...

She held someone's hand, gazing at the body that laid in a hospital bed. Frail limbs, dark blue hair, and tubes and machines plugged in, beeping.

She watched through a glass window, gazing at that person from a distance.

That person, who was once so healthy and alive, was reduced to a bedridden woman, barely able to open her own eyes.

... then, who was she?

He scoffed. "Don't you know whose fault it is your dad is dead? It's yours! Because you did nothing!"

If she wasn't a strong, independent person right now, then what she resembled now,

"Huhuu..."

――was merely a child, wishing for her parents.

This wasn't how things were supposed to have been.