06 | wishful capsules

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Perhaps we laugh to mask the cries screaming in silence. And we have gotten better at pretending to be happy.

—Yuna didn't go to school today.

Why?

She was tired.

And by tired, she meant she was tired of pretending to be content with herself—a weariness with the same old issues that she has always had—the same boring flaws and anxieties she has been gnawing on for years, which leaves them soggy and tasteless and inert, with nothing interesting left to think about, nothing left to do but spit them out and wander off to the backyard, ready to dig up some fresher pain she might've buried long ago.

Living like this was exhausting too, she thought. She wondered why she had to put up with everything when she could just say goodbye to no one but herself. But no. She wasn't sick of this world yet. She still wants to do something that she's always dreamed of. She still wants to leave a mark for anyone to at least remember her.

All she could do was stay in bed as she drowsily looks up to the pale ceiling. She wished there were stars on them so she didn't have to think of anything. But the emptiness persuades her.

She was.. tired of being strong through her obnoxious personage. Crude and snarky remarks that she'd make to create interesting and comical conversations. Being like that takes away the frown hiding behind her smile, and she had gotten used to it.

She tried to smile through the pain. Until the pain made her smile.

She was sane because of her own illusions, but she was still struggling to maintain it when the life she lives in now was more than shattered.

But that's okay. She's Yuna Rei for god's sake.

What could happen?


__________



Unknown number
"whr the fuck r u"

A small chuckle burst out of her lips as she stared at the anonymous text, completely aware of who it was.

Yuna Rei
"new phone who dis"

Unknown number
"quit fUcking ard and meet me at minisu tUna"

Unknown number
"nOW"

She lightly laughs at the texts when she got up from her bed, tossing her phone to the side after that to change into her hoodie and sweatpants since it's already cold at night—and yeah, she stayed cooped up in her room all day, probably doing nothing but wait for the nighthawk; a recurring thought that only seems to strike her late at night—an overdue task, a nagging guilt, a looming and shapeless future—that circles high overhead during the day, that pecks at the back of her mind whenever she tries to sleep, that she can successfully ignore for weeks, only to feel its presence hovering outside her bedroom window, waiting for her to get out of her room, passing the time by quietly building a nest.

The part when she had to go downstairs was pretty tricky considering the fact that her parents were arguing, again. She wasn't sure where—it wasn't like her hearing was bad—ugh, now Bakugou's in her head again. She could hear him yelling 'headphones' now of all times.

Sighing, she carelessly climbed downstairs, ignoring the small cries of the wood underneath her soles, knowing that either way, her parents wouldn't hear her presence when their uncivil voices reverberated all over the house. All she could do was pretend as if she never heard them.

It was all she was good at.

Yuna walked into the dark street with streetlights guiding her to Minisu. It was already way past dinner—that reminds her—she didn't eat dinner. In fact, she didn't eat at all today. After all, it didn't matter, she was alive—not in both ways anyway.

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