#naffles

prompt: {@dreamingpotato: @xNoriNori NAFFLES FIRST DATE THE ANXIETY THE FLUFF THE SHEEPISH KISS}

shyness, a blush marks your features as she teases you gently

awkwardness, a nervous laugh fills the silence as you don’t know what to say

embarrassment, a stumble here and there as she catches you every time

Disclaimer: The characters mentioned in this story are personified versions of schools, but they are not saying anything at all about the students of that particular school. I’d just like to make it clear that the characterization is based on my own (and my friends’) imagination! Thank you.

You stroke my hair gently, and all I can do is watch the mirror in front of me; watch you.

If this is the last time we’ll be spending a moment together, I want to remember you. I want to memorize every tiny detail, the curve of your jaw, your fingers and prominent knuckles, the way your fringe never is able to keep out of your eyes.

"You look lovely," you say simply. There isn’t much need for words between us - we both know what’s going to happen. Here I am, the bride in my gown, sitting as carefully as possible so there will be no visible creases. You, the makeup artist, trying not to stare while making sure each eyelash is styled perfectly. Us, alone in this familiar, empty room.

"Thank you." Your hand rests on my shoulder, and I hold on to you, grasping tightly.

"So… this is it." Light laughter from you (and I want to have this etched in my memory forever.) “Your big day, eh, NY?"

"Mmm." Light tones, keep it light, stepping on dangerous boundaries, land mines, don’t explode, don’t. “Seems like just yesterday we were talking about growing up and getting married and growing old."

"Yeah." You stare straight at my reflection, as I do. I pray that your feet weigh little enough to be able to avoid the flashing red buttons. “It was slightly different then, well."

We both know.

"So. When’s it going to be your turn?" I try to steer it around.

The trace of a smile is gone. “I’m - I won’t."

I can already hear the sound of detonating dynamites in the room. This is it, then? Are we going to do this minutes before it all starts?

"You know why," you say. “Can we just - stop pretending for a moment. It’s - our last chance."

"Please, RG, I can’t."

"It’s alright. It’s not like I want you to run out and scream that you’re going to cancel the wedding. I just want some form of confirmation that I won’t be entirely forgotten. I want to know - look, do you love him or not?"

A pause, then:

"You know HCI’s just a brother to me, you know that this wedding was forced. And of course I still love you, idiot."

You breath in deeply, quivering slightly. “I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea. Only hurt in the end, right? Nothing’s going to change." Laughter again, this time hollowed. No, no, this isn’t going in my memory. Preserve only the best.

"There’s nothing I can do," I say quietly.

Your thumb brushes the skin on my neck. I shiver slightly, realizing how much I crave your touch. You bend your head down and whisper in my ear.

"I’m going to miss you."

You gently press your lips to my hair, and I close my eyes just barely longer than a blink. You just had to do it, didn’t you, you knew it would hurt and you did it. But I would gladly take it a thousand times over again, because - well. It’s you.

A knock on the door. It’s about to begin. You take my hand and pull me up from my seat. My eyes start to prickle, and you take my face in your hands.

"No tears, okay?"

"Catch me if you can..."

I tried to stay alive, you know.

I tried.

But of course, life didn't agree.

Blocks, shit with HCI, that incident with RI - well they're still friends (at least).

I can't stand this.

She had planned it out well.

Drop hints to RGS, cut off ties with everyone else; she needed to get away from it all.

The torture called IP, overflowing SIAs, everything. Even the stigma and pressure she knew she'd have to face after EOYs.

「IP students have to be perfect. No failing, no nothing. One must excel.」

There was something off about the statement, she knew, but could never put her finger on it or voice it out - questioning how the education system worked (or tortured) was political and social suicide, after all.

Which she could not afford to commit.

But of course, a story like this would not interest, yes? Just another girl trying to keep out of trouble and keep her mind off her girlfriend.

Yeah well, so of course she did have something to lose. Her sanity, her determination, her driving force - RGS, of course.

Her hints did turn out useful. Maybe not.

RGS had seemed to pick up on her motives - and had tried to make her feel better. Like the notes passed during math tuition, the knowing glances on the street; the lingering, unread messages.

Well it was to no avail of course. NY's texts started getting worse, spelling and grammar erratic and broken, and a mess of everything.

「I cnat do hw help」-NY

「What about」-RGS

「lit」-NY

「Oh」-RGS

Well, she was bad at literature and anything to do with English but a few more similar conversations cut it.

She was cracking.

「u know, the skys nice up here」-NY

「Where」-RGS

「oh u know, back at our old school, /there/」-NY

RGS tensed.

Their old school - where they met, where they used to argue, where they fought through the first six years of inhumane education together. Together.

It seems so far away.

"..."

RGS's phone rings. Her batchmates glare at her - gee, she must be talking to ACS or RI or HCI or something; lucky bitch.

The number is vaguely familiar. She answers the call.

Five seconds in, and tears are growing by her eyelashes. Pearls, one could say, of sweet memories that have ceased to exist.

A minute in and she crumples to the ground.

And when the call ends, NY's words ring in her head.

「Catch me if you can

Perhaps if you tried...」

No.

The link forms in her mind, and she begs her seniors to let her go - 'personal issues', she claims. Or more specifically, that she just had to see her distant relative that one last time before he dies.

Her excuses don't make sense anymore but the senior feels pity and lets her go. She thinks RGS just lost a family member.

Oh how right yet wrong she was.

She steps back, and takes in her surroundings.

It is all like she used to know; lacking just one person by her side. The landed homes splattered across the horizon seemed to have melted into the sky.

Ah, a storm cloud, she wonders to herself. And forces herself to remember what happened years back when they first argued.

It rained, yes. Not a gentle kind like the sunshine-and-happy-drizzling-that-makes-everyone-s mile kind of rain, but the kind where the sky just turns into a mass of swirling blues, greys and static. Basically, a thunderstorm.

It flooded the like spilled ink on a masterpiece. Never-ending. Spreading. Parasitic.

A rather small clashing of perspective happened in class, and both fled rooftop for solace. Well, neither expected to have run into the other.

NY went to see the sky, and its everlasting beauty. The prospect of flight - hope, oxygen - life.

RGS went to see the world like a bird, admiring daily life. The repetitiveness - confidence, trees - stability.

The setting was perfect, almost, like two archenemies facing off for their final battle of sorts. Rain poured and they stared at each other, minds running haywire.

「She's so lucky. Everyone wants to be her friend.」

「She's so lucky. She can enjoy the peace and quiet.」

「She's so lucky. At least the guy who people pair her with isn't lame-ish.」

「She's so lucky. Her guy equivalent isn't derpy.」

And they both turned tail and fled from the rain.

Which was probably how their friendship started. Or at least it played a factor to that.

She smiled grimly.

And leapt.

Red. Black. Blue. Grey.

Tears. Sobbing.

Panicked whispering.

Black.

Silence.

She is alone again.

They say one's life flashes in front of the mind's eye when you do something stupid – like this.

NY could somewhat attest to that. At least, if this was what it was meant to be.

It was painful, yet joyous, and a whole other swirl of emotions as she relived her life in seconds, minutes, many times as her conscience sought for an answer.

An answer as to why death was the solution.

NY struggles to answer herself. She doesn't know why, she can't control herself.

Just one sentence appears in her mind.

「Catch me if you can.」

RGS could not keep a hold on reality.

NY jumped. NY jumped. NY jumped. NYJUMPEDNYJUMPEDNYJUMPED.

Her thoughts gradually blur into one another to form a living nightmare.

Her body ached. It would be too much of an understatement to say so. It was like liquid fire - burning, destroying. Reminding her.

She was dizzy. Her conscience still burned from the lack of an answer.

Why, why, why, WHY, WHY, WHY?!

And she forced her eyes open.

NY's eyes flickered for a moment.

RGS doesn't stop trembling. She borders on going into shock.

NY's lips part.

"...you could have caught me..."

She has no replay.

No crowd forms, no-one cares.

They're just two girls, nameless and drenched by the relentless rain.

People scurry on, eager to get themselves to a shelter, make themselves nice and dry. And of course, there is no thought spared for the two girls in the street.

This is a society where personal gain is of utmost importance; nothing else matters - just remember to fend for yourself.

She does not process what NY says.

Her mind is a blank - shock, grief, horror.

I couldn't help you...

Were exams, competitions, so important? That she doubted - at least when lives were at stake.

She had seen her seniors cut, go around with those hideous scars on their forearms. Act like nothing had happened. Turn into hypocrites. Even thought they knew what they were burdening them with.

She is no longer herself.

Liquid forms in her eyes, and she submits to her body - and sobs for her dear life.

Life, the next few days are a blur.

RGS barely pays attention to anything but her phone, staring, staring, at the empty notification centre on the glass screen.

No, no more training sessions. No more family dinners. No more batch outings. No more anything. Deleting every one last entry in her calendars seemed therapeutic. Removing the IMAP connection from her email accounts to her phone was soothing. Deactivating iMessage was a relief. Everything was. She didn't want to speak. She didn't want anything. Her parents just nodded quietly, as did NY's after she managed to hail a cab to get to the hospital. Thankfully it was the beginning of the school holiday then.

She wants NY. She wants her life back. She wants it to be the way it once was.

She wants that hope she lost back.