Ditching n' Bitching

[Gahrok]

Dante sat perched in his favorite post, his hands resting casually on the back of his head and his feet propped up on the back of a bench, his rear precariously inhabiting the edge of a large water fountain. It always gave him a smirk to see people sit down on the bench only to get up in shock at the sight of a pair of feet beside their head. Idiots, so unaware. But it wouldn’t have given him a grin today… it would’ve taken quite a bit more then that in-fact. Either way no-one was likely to be sitting down on that particular bench anytime soon because it was currently mid-day and afternoon classes were in session. Dante sighed, he should really be there with them… but he just didn’t have the heart today. He couldn’t see the point anymore.

Dante picked up his guitar from its resting place in the dirt, in some cases people would comment on times corrosion of their instruments luster… in his case it pretty much looked just as shabby as the day he had cobbled it together out of scraps. A grin failed to be held back by his melancholic reverie as he fondled the coarse wood of its neck. Putting his baby upon his knee with tender care Dante closed his eyes and let his fingers dance across the fretboard, his soul flying off into the crisp afternoon air along with the slightly sour and flat notes of his bluesy tune. His mind escaped the drudgery of reality as the music consumed him. Time went out the window as he played, it could have been minutes or hours. Dante didn’t know, he didn’t care… this was his time, his only time.

It ended. It had a habit of doing that, just when he wasn’t ready… but once it ended you could never get it back. He plucked the last string with intensity and fervor, the low e rumbling out into the quite courtyard. Dante opened his eyes, tears nearly rolling down his eyes, biting his lip as it all came rushing back. His music had always been an extension of himself and while it was a temporary escape, it was also an amplifier of whatever he happened to be feeling. Dante’s soulful eyes probed the sky, as if searching for some guidance. His parents would’ve known what to say, but their guidance was always simply to work harder… to yell at him, to scream at him, to tell him he was a slack-ass… a failure… a nobody, a no-one. A loser.

Why… why was it always a competition? Why did he always have to be matched up, suited up and sent off to the trenches. He thought he had been done with it all when he had finished high-school. And then they told him there was an academy here, then they carted him off to be institutionalized once more. What a surprise, he thought bitterly, I failed at it again. Dante made a frustrated noise somewhere between a growl and a scream, perhaps it could have been considered a rather undignified gurgle. Either way he looked even more frustrated at the fact that such an un-masculine noise had just come out of his mouth, Grimacing he held his guitar up high as if to throw it, his blue eyes sparkling with anger. Sighing he lay it slowly back onto the ground and hung his head in defeat. Why stay here anymore? Dante just wanted to leave it all behind, the pain, the failure. Five long years and what had he accomplished? Dead end and after dead end. That was his fucking life, his goddamn cyclic and endless life. Sometimes he wished he didn’t have eternity to spend repeating his same mistakes, it was getting awfully old.

He cried out, punching the air in a vain attempt at grasping onto some straw of his own strength. Almost somewhat vindicated by the forceful blow Dante threw his left hook into the air as well. It seemed, however, that the combined momentum was a little much for his precarious position and with a great splash and a heap of flailing limbs Dante fell over backwards into the fountain. Spluttering he arose and in an instant flung his head to the left and right to see if anyone was watching, embarrassment would be the ultimate insult to his already injured pride. The coast looked clear. He flung himself over the side with a long sigh that turned into a violent bout of hiccups as his breath caught up to him. Soaking wet the morose Dante lay sprawled out across the dirty party. Why the fuck…. did these things always happen to him? Was there some sort of curse that branded him as the most awkward person in the whole of this moronic.. pathetic… goddamn… Dante didn’t find the last adjective to describe the academy, he was interrupted by a prickle of pain across his backside. He jumped to his feet in the immediate realization of what he’d done.

Underneath him, in the spot where he had just been lying was his prized guitar, her neck quite broken. Biting his lip, his nose curled and his eyes bulged as he though of about a thousand profane words to scream. Dante curled his hands into fists as he pointed accusingly at the ground, then the water fountain and eventually at the sky. His breath was expulsed all at once as he spoke and as a result his words were choppy “This… is… just….goddamn… GREAT” he screamed the last word, its echoes chiming throughout the empty courtyard no doubt allotting a few chuckles from nearby classrooms.

[Harmony]

Where was she?!

She nearly fell out of the tree in her surprise. The world rushed and tumbled around her, and she could feel herself tumbling with it... legs slipping! Her panicked mind raced and with a grunt of effort she managed to save herself, wrapping her arms about the branch at the last second. The rest of her body halted in the air, and the weight yanked painfully on her thin arms. She fought the urge to cry out and she shifted her grip... she could already feel her fingers slipping...

The ground spun under her dangling body and her eyes widened in horror as she realized just how high up she really was. A great lump formed in the back of her dry throat as shivers of paralyzing fear gripped her... don't fall asleep... The strength was already draining from her arms and she fumbled weakly to pull herself upright, a pained grimace breaking out on her pale face as the bark bit at her skin. A struggle that lasted only a few short seconds felt like an agonizing eternity, but with a final kick of her feet off the trunk, Namida found herself pulled back to her previous perch.

With a relieved sigh, she collapsed on the branch, her arms and legs dangling on either side. She blinked slowly and stared blankly, wondering feebly why she woke up in such a strange place... it happened so often... She bit her bottom lip and wiped the tears out of the corner of her eye with a reddened hand. She was always blacking out and waking up in places she didn't expect, and it both frustrated and terrified her. She never spoke of this to another person, leaving the weight of her problems and fears resting solely on her own shoulders and it left her often feeling worn down. It was hard to concentrate on anything other than this problem she had, and all too often the accusing voice in her head would say with a cruel sneer, "You really are crazy... you know that right?"

Sometimes she wondered if the voice was right. What if she really was crazy?

She fought back her impulse to cry. She could feel it in her stomach... a sick, heavy feeling. Her loneliness consumed her entirely at times like this, and she longed for companionship. It was her own fault that she was alone... her fault. She pushed others away. She acted mean, acted like she didn't care about anyone or anything... she built great big thick walls around her injured heart and dared others to attempt to break them down. No one ever did. She blinked back the inevitable tears and her sight blurred as they welled up and rolled down, dripping from her cheek to the ground below. It was such a long way for a tear to fall. She hated herself. She really did. Was she truly so weak that all she could think to do was cry? She forced her irregular breathing to calm, and she sat up, putting her hands again to her eyes.

She thought finally of Peter, that boy who haunted her dreams. She wanted to sink into the pages of the book, and live forever with the lost boys... and Neverland... Neverland would make her forget. The great island in the sky where dreams drifted in the whispers of children, and rained fairy dust. That's where she wanted to be... she wanted Neverland to work its potent magic on her heart and mind, and wipe her clean. She wanted to be rid of those memories from so long ago. She despised her past self. Even in life, she had hated the person she had become. She once told her mother that she wished she never met that man who destroyed her in his parting, the man she had adopted as a father. Her mother berated her for saying such a wicked thing, but Namida's mind was not swayed... she wanted to forget it all.

Just then, music drifted in the distance like leaves in the wind, and her melancholy thoughts were temporarily silenced. She stared forward, leaning meticulously on the edge of the tree branch. Who was that?

The music swelled and entranced her, it's haunting and hypnotic melody speaking to her heart in a raw fervent voice that sent shivers down her spine. Envy and admiration filled her gaze as she stared shamelessly at the boy responsible. There was something so tragic and so beautiful about his playing that Namida felt a pang in her chest... she needed to be closer. She couldn't move or breathe. She hadn't felt this way in a long time, and regret flooded her heart as she realized she would never know this person who could play with such rhapsody.

As suddenly as it began, the music died with one last impassioned note echoing in the placid courtyard, and Namida realized that the music truly had come from his heart... it was all his, and it was unique from anything she ever had or would hear; it was like a flower in the desert that bloomed at sunrise in a color never before seen by human eyes... She swallowed, hugging her abdomen with both arms. She perceived that behind the ardent notes, there was a heart weighed in hidden sorrow... she recognized it in this stranger because she too had a heavy heart.

A strange yell broke the silence, and Namida looked up, rather startled by the outburst and watched in terror as the boy held the guitar above his head, as though he were about to destroy it upon the ground. Her eyes widened, and she put out her hand, as though to stop him, and nearly fell out of the tree again. After regaining her balance, Namida was relieved to find that he had set his guitar back down. What was the matter with him? She could see the defeat in his movements and posture. There was another cry, and she watched as he punched at the air, inevitably causing him to fall back with a great splash into the fountain behind him.

She put a hand to her mouth to hide the ashamed smile that crossed her features. True, she felt sorry for him, but she found his misfortune rather humorous, and she held back the laughter that danced in her stomach. Such a silly, awkward boy. His embarrassment and dissatisfaction were clear to her, and she watched in interest as he surfaced and looked about to make sure he was truly alone. His frustration was endearing in a way, and though her smile slowly faded, the light in her eyes that bordered affection remained.

But, the worst was fast approaching, and she could see it from a mile away. He was climbing out of the fountain, and she could foresee the tragedy sure to follow. “No...” she whispered, as though he could hear her... as though she could stop him. But her own voice frightened her, as it always had. You speak, you die. That was the law. Her heart stopped then as he crushed his own beloved guitar, and she again clapped a hand to her mouth, this time in shock.

Her mouth went dry, and she shifted uncomfortably... should she go to him?
It would have been easy to remain in the high branches of the tree, to remain a quiet, invisible bystander. That was who Namida was... always watching... never got involved. That was safe and secure. She knew people better than they thought, because she would spend such time watching them from a distance, yet never did she initiate contact of any sort.

So why was she climbing down?

It was true... Namida was already halfway to the ground when she heard the boy speak, his voice escalating towards a scream. His anger frightened her, but now her arms and legs were moving independently of her mind and heart, and she dropped to the ground from the lower branches with a muted thump. She stood slowly and nervously, approaching him with her hands bunched together. As she came closer, she got a better look at him, and she saw the ferocity in the blue of his eyes.

“C-can it be mended?”

Her voice was painfully quiet, and she felt her cheeks going red in embarrassment. She shouldn't have approached him at all... she should have stayed in her branches, and in time she would have managed to swallow her regret and guilt.

She lowered herself to the ground beside his guitar then, making quite sure that her face was hidden from him. She didn't want to make eye contact, she didn't want him to look at her... she didn't want to look at him. Instead, she stared down with concern at the tragic instrument.

She reached gently for the guitar, and picked it up with both hands supporting where it had been broken. She was afraid that perhaps he would be angry with her for touching his instrument like that, but she hoped that he wouldn't be.
"You play so beautifully."
Her quiet voice lacked strength but the compliment remained, scarcely hiding the envy she felt for his talent. His music could make the stars weep.

[Gahrok]

He almost didn’t hear it, that whisper of a voice. Stopping his ravings he turned to face the girl, she had appeared out of nowhere and pure shock left him unable to respond. The words that she had said failed to register as his brain ran over the possible scenarios that could have concealed her from his sight, and the reasons why she would even be out of class at this hour. Dante’s face was a quizzical mask of clear confusion and worry, but the girl didn’t seem to care r even notice. She had lowered herself to the level of his guitar, staring at the broken thing.

Dante looked down at her with even more confusion, at a complete loss of what to do. He knew he was socially inept but…. jeese, this girl was sure playing on his weak points. It was almost as if she didn’t want any kind of response to him, asking a question and then going off to take a magnifying glass look at his instrument. Dante ran his fingers through his hair as he began to worry over how much time had passed and how he had not yet responded. Mended, that’s what she had asked, could it be mended. Dante grimaced as he pondered the answer.

His eyes widened and his train of thought dissipated as she picked up his beloved instrument, she had balls… figuratively of course, he blushed as he mentally corrected and admonished himself for using the expression. If there was one thing that Dante disliked it was people touching his stuff, especially his baby… his guitar. He was about to open his mouth to give her a rather stern but somewhat respectful chastisement when she looked up him and softly spoke the words:

"You play so beautifully."

Dante’s mouth hung open as he scratched the back of his head nervously, an annoying habit of his. Why were girls always so goddamn forward? He began to blush as he fumbled for words, cursing her and his own inability to formulate coherent sentences, or even sentences at all. For gods sake a simple thank-you would do, but he knew that such an answer would never satisfy him. Dante knew that if he just said thankyou and took his instrument and hit the road that he’d be slapping himself silly for the next week, he hated being socially awkward, it really was a horrible disease.

“Thanks.” he said, his voice wavering although it was apparent he had tried his damnest to be suave. Shit Dante, he thought to himself, don’t you dare just walk away. “Er… yah mind putting her down?” he laughed sort of nervously as he realized the condescending nature of what he had just said… “I mean, its all-right really, you picking it up, just that I wouldn’t want her to be any more broken you know?” He winced, that hadn’t come out right either. But the sight of his beautiful old guitar broken in her hands was certainly not conjuring up anything but anxiety. She was right to ask the question, he thought to himself, could it be mended? Fuck, he thought to himself, either way it wasn’t going to be easy. “I suppose I’ll try and mend her I mad her myself you know… out of scraps around rukongai. So I guess if anyone can fix it…..” . Dante added the last sentence smugly, a little pleased with himself that he had remembered to answer her question.

Dante allowed himself a slow breath then, feeling rather comfortable in the fact he had made intelligible conversation. And then it hit him, how long had she been there? Had she seen him spazz out… she said she’d heard his music! Oh no, this could be another one of those rumor starters that could sour and go bad. He grimaced again involuntarily, quickly covering it up with a rather insincere smile. Dante was not going to let himself be known as the crazy fountain faller, being known as the class failure was fame enough.

“So… are you knew or something ?” stupid question, “Well… what I mean is…” he said backtracking, his hands now clasped together in front of him in a rather awkward stance, well… it wasn’t quite an awkward stance for him, but it was a weird way at least in convention for one to stand, with their legs spread rather widely apart and their hands clasped together, “I mean to say, is there some reason your out of class… yah know its in session right now?”. He grinned as he shook his head, not even bothering to cover up his own disappointment at his awkwardness.

“Look, my name’s Dante.” he said, trying a sincere approach, which was rather like paddling with ones hands after losing the oars to a rowboat. Shoving his hands in his pockets and bending down so that he could be at eye level with his newfound acquaintance he grinned ruefully. “You sorta caught me off guard if yah wanna know the truth, I’m skipping class. I find it rather boring honestly, never get anywhere with it… but I suppose that’s just me. I got a bit of a reputation round here as being a rather spectacular dunce.”

He stopped for a breath, his hands running backwards through the length of his hair from his forehead to the back of his head. Dante wondered if he had talked too much, perhaps even having been a little bit intimidating, after all the girl had seemed very timid and shy… and she was a pretty small little thing too. His eyes focused and his mind stopped its incessant calculating for a few seconds, long enough for them to roam over her features. Dante grinned weakly as his mental profanities began to skyrocket, she was pretty cute… goddamn they always were in these situations. Why in the hell? She had these deep soulful brown eyes and this long and wild hair that nearly consumed her person. Huddled down there she seemed like a frightened bunny rabbit, Dante got this urge to just reach out and reassure her but he knew from experience that always just scared the little rabbits away. What he wouldn’t give for a big fat, hairy ugly guy. Dante postulated cynically to himself that they were always so damn easy to find when you were trying to enjoy something pretty like a sunset, but when you broke your guitar and wanted to have someone to get mad at and ignore…. then all you got was good looking girls. He grinned wryly, well at least there was something to be said for a little bout of social practice. And boy, thought Dante, did he need a lot more of that.

[Harmony]

She could feel his puzzled gaze burning into her back. She always felt people staring at her, even when they were not. She hated the attention: she hated being exposed, and most of all she hated the feeling that people were thinking about her or trying to classify her. They never knew her. All they ever saw or remembered of her was the fact that she never returned her gaze... she was inferior, she was reserved, she was easily insulted... All false assumptions that she would never be rid of. True she was quiet, true she was afraid... but nothing angered her more than when people treated her different, when they spoke quiet or looked at her different, as though she would be offended. It only furthered her embarrassment, and furthered her lack of self confidence. It was easier to just avoid people altogether.

She should have avoided him.

“Thanks. Er… yah mind putting her down?”

He was nervous... perhaps because he too was socially awkward... or... perhaps he had already classified her in his mind, and now he felt he had to be different around her. She swallowed as he laughed, blinking a few times as she tried to compose an escape route, and she slowly placed the guitar back down, "S-sorry" She folded her hands in her lap as though she wouldn't dare touch anything again.
“I mean, its all-right really, you picking it up, just that I wouldn’t want her to be any more broken you know?”

Namida winced, and nodded once wordlessly. She had upset him... she could tell... but of course he had hidden it from her. She still felt the sting of his anger, as though he had truly yelled at her.

“I suppose I’ll try and mend her I mad her myself you know… out of scraps around rukongai. So I guess if anyone can fix it…..”

She nodded again, hardly noticing the boastful nature of his words. She was still dwelling on her own inadequacy. Every time she ever tried to meet someone new... every time she worked up the courage... she failed. She had built herself up for this moment. She had climbed down the tree, and she had walked over to see him. Every step she took, she had to build herself up, tell herself that this time... it would be different... but no. It never worked out.

“So… are you new or something ?”

Where was this coming from?! in her surprise, Namida looked up at him, her plain face blank in her bewilderment. It didn't even occur to her that he was referring to her absence from class... she hardly even thought of her school work anymore. The studious qualities had dissolved. She was headed no where and though it sometimes bothered her, she could not bring herself to care.

“Well… what I mean is…I mean to say, is there some reason your out of class… yah know its in session right now?”

A bit of a sad smile crossed her features and she glanced down at her folded hands, "It is... isn't it?" She laughed a forlorn laugh then looked back up at him, though she never once made eye contact. It was more like she was looking past him, or into the clouds. "I..." She paused for a long time, remembering how she had blacked out again... another memory lapse... another chunk of her life that she'll never get back. Things like that made class seem so insignificant. She was dying to tell someone... to show them this hidden part of herself, but no one would ever understand. The words were heavy on her lips and she could almost taste them as they rested there, begging to be spoken. But, that was never to be. She lied, just as she always did, "I was sick this morning... but now I feel a little better and I wanted to take a walk." She grinned a friendly, false grin and giggled a little afterwards. She was a horrible liar. She really was.

“Look, my name’s Dante. You sorta caught me off guard if yah wanna know the truth, I’m skipping class. I find it rather boring honestly, never get anywhere with it… but I suppose that’s just me. I got a bit of a reputation round here as being a rather spectacular dunce.”

Skipping class, huh? Her grin faded but in its place was a real smile. It was small and hardly noticeable, but it was there. It struck her as funny that he would tell her that without knowing her well at all... maybe he wasn't so bad. He had a reputation too... a negative one at that, and she laughed quietly in response. People were idiots. He too was subject to their calculating gazes and she felt then that they did have something in common after all. Both of them were something like outsiders. After this realization, she immediately felt guilty for the way she had thought of him earlier. She was just as bad as the other people for judging him so harshly. His nervous laughs were not because he had preconceived notions about her character, but because he too had a difficult time in situations like this.

“My name's Namida.”

Her quiet voice lacked the nervousness it held before, and she stood, only to sit on the edge of the fountain. She noticed then that he was staring at her, and her eyes narrowed slightly as she returned the gaze. Her head titled to the side. It was an odd habit of hers. Her head was always tilting when she was thinking about things. “...So you made your guitar in Ruknogai, huh?” She smiled a playful smile, as though she were about to say something clever, but really she hardly said clever things... especially if she was trying to sound clever, “So it's like... made of junk” She laughed loudly then, her eyes squinting as though she had just said the funniest thing but she quickly stopped again when she realized her little jest was probably hardly appreciated, “I mean... It's cool... 'cause it's like all yours then, and It's made of things that people would normally throw awa-” she stopped short, biting her lower lip. She sounded like an ass, and there was no taking it back. She was always doing that... saying things that sounded awful. If she could have told him in writing, it would have worked. She conveyed her feelings better with a pen and paper.

She never meant it though. Really, she had been trying to complement him... what she had meant was that his guitar was special because it was made of things that no one would appreciate, but Dante had taken those things, and turned them into the most beautiful thing... and he loved every part of it. He loved the scrap that no one else loved, because his guitar was special to him... that's what she had meant. But, there was no fixing it now. She was trying to compliment him, and she probably only managed to piss him off.

Good going, Namida.

[Gahrok]

Namida. It was an interesting name, Dante postulated, in-fact…. It was a beautiful name. She seemed to had cheered herself up a bit, if only slightly, for her next words were considerably more jovial then her previous resigned silence. He gave her a raised eyebrow as she called his guitar junk, but was forced into a grin as she giggled at her own joke. She was certainly a character. Dante grinned even bigger as she complimented his baby, it was all his damn, she was damn right….. which he thought, somewhat sarcastically… was why he despised when people touched it. Then again he had realized by her abashed attitude that she was clearly sorry for having been so forward, and Dante himself felt remorse for having been so curt. He grimaced though, to be once more reminded of his broken guitar. Scraps were surprisingly hard to fix because of their uniqueness, it was going to be a hell of a job.

Namida bit her lip sadly as she seemed to have considering her usage of the word junk to have been insulting. Dante chuckled as he looked into her eyes with a sideways glance for reassurance, “Despite our… he chuckled dirly to himself, hoping to god she would echo his feelings and he wouldn’t look like a fool, Obvious impediments, lets not get all…er… worked up over a few verbal slip-ups, alrite? It’s nice to meet yah Namida.”. He grinned, trying to assuage her fears and show that he had not at all insulted her. Dante was worried more then anything else that he’d upset the poor girl just by being complacent.

Standing up and holding his broken guitar gently in his open palms Dante sat down on a the bench across from the fountain on which Namida was currently sitting. So er… Dante said blushing, “Did you… see the whole ordeal there?” He nodded in the direction of the fountain, the lip of which she was comfortably sitting on as he had been minutes before. Dante grinned nervously, he hoped she hadn’t… but then, she’d said she’d heard his playing so there wasn’t much chance otherwise. His cheeks reddened further as he remembered her compliment. Beautiful she had said, it was so rare that Dante was complimented on his playing. His brow furrowed as he remembered how his parents used to scold him and yell at him for playing when he should be studying, never once did they even listen… or even care.

Dante shivered involuntarily and his eyes widened as he realized what a mess he must’ve looked, all soaked. It made him grin, even chuckle, and before he could help it he let out a rather unseemly guffaw. What a day, what a goddamn day. These crazy situations always made him happy no matter how gloomy they were, how could you not appreciate the humor of your own bad luck? Dante looked back at Namida, his grin quickly vanishing as he realized how foolish he must look. But then again, she had gone through a similar outburst earlier. “Sorry,” he said, laughter still ringing in his words, “Its just been a crazy day, I feel almost as if I should be transcribing it… sometimes I think I’m a character in a story, I really do.”. Dante gazed at her, loosing his train of thought as he tried to analyze this girl, she said she was sick… yet she had come back in the middle of the day, what kind of sick person came back halfway through class? But then again, Dante thought cynically to himself, he was no expert on when and when not to go to class. She was timid too, and shy… and almost as damn unsure of herself as he was himself. He thought, with a hint of joviality at how horrible they both were at conversing, and how awkward their meeting had been. The fates indeed had a cruel sense of humor, forcing two such people to converse.

But then again perhaps it was a good oppur… footsteps! Shit, Dante thought sullenly, just as he was about to try his hand at being normal, it was probably a goddamn teacher. Voices, plural… voices. Shit shit shit. Dante turned around as casually as he could, three students, guys. He sighed and gave Namida a rueful grin, leaning in and whispering close., “I know those three, they skip class almost as much as me… accept that they do It because they want to be cool, not because they understand the inferiority of this stupid….

Well well, if it isn’t ole Dante a high pitched and grating voice rattled off. The footsteps drew nearer. Dante didn’t turn around to look at the trio, his face had become very still and very agitated. “Fuck off. he growled, he was in no mood for there childish insults and bantering, for their talk of screwing women and slicing up people weaker then them, he was in no mood either… to be talked down to or to be in the smallest way degraded. But of course, his day had not been going well already. Dante knew in his heart that he had probably screwed himself by his approach. The guys were the kind of people that would let you alone enough if you played there game, took a few potshots and insults and laughed it and pretended you were bonding. But their macho testosterone-induced egomaniacal and yet pea sized brains could hardly comprehend the concept of someone disliking or dismissing them. Dante began to grin at the long silence that had followed his words, he could practically see their faces contorting. And yet he would not turn around or acknowledge their presence physically, it must’ve enraged them even more. Poor Namida, he thought, looking at her… she was already timid enough as it was.

Dante knew that his schoolmates were a rather gruesome looking bunch. He hadn’t known their names of course, so he had nicknamed them, of course… had he told them there nicknames Dante would probably have encountered there fury much sooner than this day. ‘Frankenstein’ was a gaunt blonde haired waif a good few inches over six feet with a horse faith and the ugliest set of teeth you’ve ever seen. And of course, he fancied himself the handsomest man alive. ‘Sumo’ was around the same height as Dante, but with a girth nearly equal to his height and a pudgy round ball of a face with cheeks always brighter then red lipstick. And then there was ‘Dog’ a shaggy looking fellow with shoulder length hair and arms like forests, also as tall as Frankenstein but with a bit more meat on him. Needless to say the three were reasonably well known for their thuggish ways, and of course they had the appearance to match… not to mention the lack of intelligence.

Dog grunted and opened his mouth as if to speak but Sumo, who was frowning and looked like a dying bulldog put a hand out to stop him. Frankenstein said nothing as always, Dante still hadn’t looked but he could tell that Frankenstein wouldn’t be wearing a shirt… the idiot thought he had a six pack or something, all you could see was his ribcage and a rather hideous concave belly. Dante felt Sumo’s sweaty and unsurprisingly slimy, for he had no doubt been eating recently, hand on his shoulder. It clamped down, vice-like, there was muscle under that fat it seemed, and by the intense pain in his shoulder Dante reckoned there was a damn lot of it. “What did you say? Grimacing in pain he winced again as Sumo spoke, his spittle flying everywhere… it was as slimy, and if possible slimier, then his hand. After the pain, immediately anger took him, and Dante felt his hands curling up into fists… don’t do it, he told himself, don’t be dumb… these guys were never worth it and you sure don’t have the guns nor the ammo to win this fight. But Dante’s emotions had ceased to co-operate with his reason, all he could think of was his broken guitar, his wet clothes, his failing grades, his yelling parents and the fact that Sumo’s fucking slimy hand was still digging into his shoulder.

“What did I say?... his tone was seething, a foreboding quiet…. his fists trembling as he remembered, relived… the days where he had let his friend be bullied by jerks like this, the days he had even let himself be tossed around by these very idiots. Not today, definetely not this day. “I SAID…. Fuck OFF, and apparently you moronic sack brained piece of fucking shit morons can’t even understand the fucking cursing vernacular that your stupid slimy and disgusting gene pool is no doubt responsible for introducing to this world.”.

Why you… rasped Frankenstein. Sumo was at a loss for words, no doubt still processing the very first words of the sentence that had been spoken. Dog just growled and hurled himself for Dante. This ones for George he shrieked in his captive mind. That weak little fist he had always restrained from using shot up from his side and with all of his strength Dante threw his best right hook behind him into Sumo’s stupid ugly face. Sumo cried an inhuman shriek, more surprised then anything, his grip falling with his hand as he stumbled back. Dante grinned, ignoring the horrible lancing pains in his fist as he smiled triumphantly as he watched his enemy… George’s enemy, and the worlds enemy fall. And then the world turned upside down, Dog. The hairy beast of a man was sitting on Dante’s chest as he lay winded on the ground beside the bench, he saw blood, he wasn’t sure where it had come from. But more prominent then anything were dog’s features that looked like a cross between an ape and primitive man. Dante couldn’t think, couldn’t raise his fist or take a breath, he was smiling… he was grinning like a fool even as he looked up at Dog’s ugly mug. Because all he could see was ole George grinning back at him. He’d done it.

Dante’s pleasant reverie was shattered as Dog screamed near incoherently in his face, “Ima rip your face off you shrimpy punk” Dante looked up back at Dog wearily, pain tearing through his abdomen where Dog’s knees where located and through his fist which has punched the solid wall that was Sumo, he shook his head. “I told you…” he said weakly, “Too just fuck off and go…”

“Dog,” squealed Frankenstein, playing leader as always. “Let’s continue this later shall we… we have a lady in our presence.”[/b] Dog jumped off Dante’s stomach at his leaders orders, a faithful animal, glancing at Namida with beady eyes. Sumo stopped his pity trip and took his hands off his puffed up eye for long enough to glare first at Dante, then at the newfound girl, then plopped down on his rear. Frankenstein took no heed of his eccentric mates, acting as if they were not related in any way to his being there. Trying to covertly flex what little muscle he had, he struck what he thought was a subtle pose and gave Namida the eye. “The name’s Jirobe.” he winked and took a few steps towards her, stopping as if awaited her response. Dante finally caught his breath back and looked up to find Frankenstein looming over him, not a pleasant sight in any sense. Breathing heavily Dante managed to give Frankenstein the one finger salute but couldn’t manage any words.

[Harmony]

A smile crept onto her face as she heard him chuckling at her, and she flashed a quick grin at him, her eyes glinting in playful mischievousness. She liked him already; he was fun, and he seemed to understand her despite her failed attempts at voicing her feelings.

“Despite our… Obvious impediments, lets not get all…er… worked up over a few verbal slip-ups, alrite? It’s nice to meet yah Namida.”

She laughed then, though she didn't really know why. There was something about him that made her want to laugh even when there wasn't a proper joke. Maybe she found his awkwardness endearing. "Yeah... nice to meet you too" She leaned back, placing her hands behind her. She could feel the water in the fountain on her finger tips, and it felt good to her. Oh how fun it would be to wade around in there! She could see it then... her pants rolled up to her knees... she'd climb in and march about, and wave her arms. This made her laugh because she speculated Dante would not be fond of this idea. He certainly wouldn't be following her in! She put a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter, the salt of her hand stinging her sore lips. She was always biting at her lips until they were as red as roses, and then she'd suffer their sensitivity.

So er…

Namida's laughter subsided, and she glanced up to see Dante placing his ill-fated guitar on the bench. Her head tilted slightly as she watched, poor thing...

“Did you… see the whole ordeal there?”

The corners of her mouth twitched a little but she fought the smile that was clawing to surface, "No... did you fall in?" He was so embarrassed she couldn't help but lie, but then she realized with a start that she wasn't making sense, "I mean... that's why you're all wet... you fell in... right?" She laughed suddenly, "Don't worry! I'm always falling too! I'm really clumsy you know. Just the other day..." Her voice trailed off, and she stared at him quietly. He had said something.... He had said he felt like a character in a story, as though he should be writing it...

God how she knew! When her world was often nothing but waking dreams and hallucinations... always stuck in that dimension between sleep and awake... she knew what he was saying. She imagined people reading her story, staring down at her through the translucent pages of an old book, their eyes following the black characters, hungry for her every breath...Yes... she felt sometimes that perhaps all of her life was a work of fiction, or that was where it belonged.

A sad light flashed across her features... sometimes she wished it really was all a dream... that even if she could never wake up from it... she was fake. She wanted to be fake... not real... simply a fabricated life under the heavy gaze of readers in their bedrooms. If she were simply character in a book, then she would be that someone for at least one person in the world that brightened their day. They'd come home and curl up with her held securely in their hands, and they'd fumble through her life and in her they'd find comfort... or a friend... like how peter was for her. This idea comforted her, yet saddened her all at once. Oh how she wished she were a book!

"...I know what you mean" Her voice was quiet, reverting back to the way she was in the beginning of the conversation... mouse-like... timid... She didn't like to share herself with people directly. She gave herself away to others through her paintings and her stories, but never directly. She never wanted the world to see her. It was best to hide, and keep those walls nice and strong... keep them impenetrable. Vulnerability was such a risk.

She swallowed as she heard people approaching. She could see three guys walking behind Dante, and her sad eyes widened slightly. This was not a good time for interruptions.

“I know those three, they skip class almost as much as me… accept that they do It because they want to be cool, not because they understand the inferiority of this stupid….

Namida's eyes narrowed as Dante leaned in towards her, the hairs on her arms and neck standing on end. She didn't want anyone near her, not when she was in one of her moods...
But, she calmed some as she listened to him talk to her about the jerks in the distance... His miniature rant was nearly cute to her and she fought the smile again... but it quickly faded. It seemed he had some negative history with them. She bit her bottom lip a little... trouble.

One of the jerks called out to Dante, and Namida glanced up at them, fear gripping at her throat.

“Fuck off."

Her hands tensed, slowly closing into fists... she looked between them. Back and forth... their dumbfounded expressions transforming into anger... his defiant grin... what was he doing?

A large, rather greasy looking dough ball seized Dante's shoulder, and Namida's hand went to her mouth. Dante wasn't afraid. She could see it all unfolding before her eyes... three on one... no.. three on one and a mouse...

Dante spoke, and his voice terrified her. She needed to run away, get out.. not watch. They were going to hurt him, and he wasn't afraid... Her mouth went dry. She hated him. Dante was an idiot, and she hated him. She hated boys and their need to impress themselves, their need to rise above one another. It sickened her... she had seen it before... the way nice respectable boys transformed into beasts before her eyes. She'd never understand.

“I SAID…. Fuck OFF, and apparently you moronic sack brained piece of fucking shit morons can’t even understand the fucking cursing vernacular that your stupid slimy and disgusting gene pool is no doubt responsible for introducing to this world.”.

Namida's eyes bulged, her mouth dropped, and her blood went cold. What did he just do?! Oh god.

All she could do was watch.

She hated those girls in the movies and books that sat and watched helplessly as their friends got destroyed, but it turned out she was no better.

Dante swung at one of the jerks, and Namida watched in astonishment and horror as he fell back... Dante was pissed... he just took that kid down. It was pretty amazing actually... That kid was more than twice his size. But this small victory didn't last long, because a second had already knocked Dante flat on his back. She wanted to cover her eyes. Dante's face was about to get punched in, and she didn't want to watch. She was just so damn scared... what happened to her if Dante wasn't there? what would they do to her? Would they just walk away? Oh god! She needed out. She needed her tree and her neverland... she never wanted to be near Dante again... not after this.

“Let’s continue this later shall we… we have a lady in our presence.”

Namida looked between the disgusting figure of the leader of the group, and the shape of Dante on the ground, her blood growing hot. She stood quickly... nearly jumped to her feet, and she glared at Frankenstein, her eyes like daggers. What was she doing? That temper she always kept stored away was rising up, and her mouth was opening... she was gonna speak. Shit no!

She couldn't stop herself. It was like she was staring down at herself helplessly from the clouds.

"Didn't you hear what he said?" Her voice was low and quiet, but not timid... it was like fire hissing in the wind, "He said to fuck off"

[Gahrok]

((The most overdue post I've ever had, sorry <3))

"Didn't you hear what he said?" Her voice was low and quiet, but not timid... it was like fire hissing in the wind, "He said to fuck off".

Frankenstein froze, a vein visibly popping its way into a rather antagonized existence upon his temple. “What did you say to me you bi- “That will be quite enough, Jirobe.” said a calm voice from behind Dante’s field of vision. Sumo’s eyes went wide as his pudgy hands began to fidget nervously. Dog quickly scampered off of Dante’s stomach, making himself as presentable as possible, allotting a pained grunt from Dante who promptly rolled onto his stomach, grimacing in pain. Frakenstein’s face was the most amusing of them all however, and Dante nearly had the breath to chuckle as he saw it from his position sprawled out frontside on the ground. All he managed however was a weak smile. Frankenstein looked like a deer in the headlights, his malformed teeth visibly as he seemed to have lost the will to close his gaping jaw. Dante risked a furtive glance in Namida’s direction, she wasn’t in his field of view, nor was the person whom had spoken but Dante had his guesses as to whom it was. Students sure didn’t speak like that. He knew that he had too flip onto his back once more, to see the teacher, and to see if Namida, poor nervous girl that she was, was doing alright. He felt a stab of pain at his heart, he never should’ve incited the guys to violence around her. Dante sighed quietly, he always manages the wrong thing. He hadn’t proved that he was strong nor above them, he had merely become as bad as them, and failed at protecting himself or her. What did she think of him? Had the ordeal scared her? Dante felt pain clutch at his heart, why did he always do this.

With a ragged sigh he flipped onto his back. There he was, a grey haired professor, standing arms crossed surveying the scene. Dante knew he’d seen him before but couldn’t place him and certainly didn’t know his name. And what did he think of what he saw? The old shinigami shook his head disgustedly as if in response to Dante’s mental question. “You three, you’d better leave her before I show you what a REAL bully can do. he spoke the words in a silent and steely tone, his brown eyes flickering with a dangerous but restrained severity. Sumo turned and took off at a rather ungainly stride before the last word had even left the professors mouth, Dog gave a nervous look at his leader and then quickly scampered off, his loyalty apparently not enough to withstand a possible beating. Frankenstein began slowly backing away, stuttering what seemed to be the beginnings of an apology. Suddenly appearing to give up he turned to run but instead walked straight into the bench, toppling over it with a stream of expletives following him. Stumbling to his feet he tried to remain somewhat dignified by straightening out his jacket and walking off, but as if feeling the gaze of the teacher on his back he broke out into a fully blown run after a few seconds. When the sounds of footsteps could no longer be heard from the miscreant trio and the silence became an overbearing weight, Dante ceased watching their flight and painfully turned to explore the face of the teacher. He knew what was coming, another goddamn lecture. If only his goddamn ribs weren’t halfway broken… he could get up and leave.

“I see you eyeing the exits, as you always do Dante. Do you even know who I am?” the old man chuckled. “I’m your Kido teacher, saw you first day. That leaves about 37 classes unaccounted for doesn’t it Dante? Imagine my surprising seeing you here…. when I was quite sure you were dead.” a ghost of a smile was beginning to appear on the professors face, he seemed to be enjoying himself, thought Dante bitterly. So he had skipped, what did the geezer care? Apparently his dissent was made palpable upon his face because the smile on the man disappeared and gay way to a stern hard line. “What were you doing Dante? Skipping isn’t enough, you have to go starting fights?” he turned then to Namida, giving her a quick smile, “And you get this innocent girl involved? I’m really growing tired of your attitude, and frankly I’m starting to wonder why your even here. I’m sure…. Namides, is it? Anyways, I’ve seen her at class Dante, and do you know what she does? She tries to learn…. when was the last time you tried to give back to this society that gives you everything you have?

Dante looked up with glittering eyes, his heart stung, the teachers remarks had hit him. Teary and red with the rage of a caged bird his eyes piercingly gazed into the teachers, as if he could back him down with his very gaze. “The last time I tried… the last time I failed. The last time I tried they told me I had nothing to live for, they told me I was worthless. If you think your petty little institution is worth… my time…”[/b he was struggling with his words now, when his emotions began he just couldn’t stop, it was all he could to hold back the tears. Rage would be the mask he used to try and hide his sorrow, his failings, “Then your fucking wrong.”. Dante trembled with the last words, forcing himself onto his knees slowly, breathing heavily and trying to hide his watery eyes. He had failed, at all things. Wouldn’t his father be happy to know he had been right about his son? His son who couldn’t learn, who couldn’t lead, who couldn’t protect and couldn’t fight. Dante bit his lip, you damn well got your wish father.

Standing impassive over the two, his arms still crossed, a clouded expression veiled the teachers features. His face was downcast. He sighed wearily and shook his head, a hint of sorrow in his movements. “Goodbye Dante.” he gave a nod and a smile in Namida’s direction which was horribly faked in the sorrow that clouded his actions. Footsteps on the cobblestone path once more, and they were once more alone.

[Harmony]

Namida watched Frankentsein motionlessly, her pale cheeks growing pink in surprise... what had she done?! She glanced down at her hands, focusing on the contours of her palms... It always astonished and frightened her that she became so bold when backed into a corner... If he had approached her, would she have hit him?

“What did you say to me you bi- “That will be quite enough, Jirobe.”

Namida glanced up quickly with the introduction of the new voice, her brown eyes widening in unknown fear as she realized it belonged to the Kido Professor. What was he going to do? She bit her bottom lip in anxiety, watching as the bullies reacted to his presence, seemingly sharing in her shock. With a quick glance she saw Dante rolling onto his backside and she grimaced. He was acting as though they had hurt him... despite her strong disliking for conflict, she still felt a pang of sympathy for her new friend, and could not prevent the guilt from blossoming in her heart... she could have done more to help him.

Suddenly feeling rather weak and useless, Namida's gaze fell to the ground, her brown eyes focusing intensely on the cracks in the gray cobblestone. She had a way of doing this when she was ashamed. It was easier to look away when she failed herself. It angered her that she was so meek; she didn't like herself the way she was. She longed to be free and unafraid, to say and do things without worry... to show everyone the way she truly felt on the inside. But would they accept her? Her fingers twitched slightly as she puzzled over this new question, hardly hearing the professor as he told the three troublemakers to go elsewhere. His voice was a sheet of glass, without substance or strength. Only the sound of Frankenstein stumbling over the bench pulled her from her thoughts, and she looked up in a bit of a daze, as though she were waking up from a dream. It was only the three of them now: The professor, Dante, and herself. She felt uncomfortable like this, alone with the two of them. She knew deep down that she would not get in trouble for this, she never did; Namida was too quiet and too timid to earn the anger of authority figures... but Dante... she was worried for him. Just as she was the sort to naturally dodge punishment, he was the sort to attract it.

The teacher began to speak to Dante, and sure enough, he was bringing up past issues that apparently added to his crime.

“What were you doing Dante? Skipping isn’t enough, you have to go starting fights?” She saw the teacher glance at her and she cringed, folding her arms across her chest as though she could protect herself with them. She didn't want to be there; she wanted to sink through the ground and get away from that place... away from nightmares and bullies and... those visions that plagued her day and night... those visions that only she could see... she needed to escape those, but most of all she needed to escape the voice in her head, constantly prodding at her weak heart and troubled mind... her already dwindling confidence was unraveling at the seams.

“And you get this innocent girl involved? I’m really growing tired of your attitude, and frankly I’m starting to wonder why your even here. I’m sure…. Namides, is it? Anyways, I’ve seen her at class Dante, and do you know what she does? She tries to learn…. when was the last time you tried to give back to this society that gives you everything you have?

Namida took a step back, feeling as though she had been burned. Oh how she hated when Teachers did that! They took advantage of her silence and reserved nature, and used her as an example. They shoved her in the face of other students, further injuring her social life. And now they had to go and turn Dante against her too?

She held her breath, looking away from the two with blurred eyes. She felt the tears coming again, and she let her hair fall forward into her face. She did not want either to see her like this. It bothered her that she cried so easily, but she couldn't help it. Perhaps without the voice and the visions and the nightmares, Namida could better cope with her lonely life when free of the mountains of stress her condition caused her. It all broke down in front of her like an old castle crumbling to the ground. Dante could have made a good friend...

“The last time I tried… the last time I failed. The last time I tried they told me I had nothing to live for, they told me I was worthless. If you think your petty little institution is worth… my time…Then your fucking wrong.”

She looked up with a gasp, her eyes growing wide in her shock. The tears dried on her cheeks, and she swallowed hard, looking between the teacher and Dante, and as Dante fell to his knees, Namida took a concerned step forward. It frightened her to see him like this. Even though they had barely met, Namida felt a certain connection to him; and his obvious suffering bothered her. She could see such an abundance of it in him, and she felt her heart pulling her to help him... she wanted to make things better for him. In that instant she forgot completely her own fears and sadness, and instead she felt his. This need to be close to him was very new to her. True, she had felt close to others before... but perhaps witnessing his grief flood out in such a way spurred her to be empathetic.

She stood there with her arms shaking as the teacher made his leave. They were alone again, and Namida dared a glance around. She was uncomfortable like this: feeling sorry for Dante, feeling unable to do anything for him. She swallowed her doubts for the second time that day and approached him slowly before sinking to the ground next to him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “I'm sorry” She did not understand what had happened to him in the past to cause such hurt, but she understood suffering. She understood it well enough to know that it was easier to bear with a friend.

She was not one to do things like that... to express anything to anyone. Tears sprang up in her eyes again, and she felt as though she were painting, and letting it all out. at once It frightened her terribly and she let go of Dante quickly, but remained sitting next to him, afraid of what he might do.

[Gahrok]

Dante didn’t hear her footsteps, he was breathing heavily, a furrowed brow coupled with eyes lost in the demons of the past gave away her current disposition. He barely even heard the words, they barely even penetrated the thick fog of sorrow that had begun to suffocate him. He winced and took a ragged breath, looking up to meet her eyes for a painful second and shook his head and started once more at tear softened mud that his hands grasped as if all life depended on it. She… she should just leave. She couldn’t help him. Dante bit his lip, his hands gouging little paths with each finger in the mud until he held clumps of earth. What was the point of any of this?

Her arms were all of a sudden around him, he tensed, turning his head away. Why… why did she have to see him like this? And suddenly the tears began to roll freely and he turned, hugging her close, closing his eyes and letting go, freeing the storm of sadness within him. It had been so long… so long dwelling inside of him. Growing. Dante let it all go in that moment, his ego and his pride, it felt so good to just release it so openly… to have someone, a shoulder to literally cry on. But after a few seconds he released her, turning away once more, it was not what he wished… he wished he could’ve stayed there forever. But that wasn’t him, that wasn’t her. He knew how she must be feeling, he knew it had been a horrible burden to give her, a horrible thing to thrust upon her. Slow sobs still racked his body but shaking his head violently and grimacing he wiped away the tears, shakily bracing himself and stepping on his left foot. With a weak thrust he pushed himself into a standing position, his back still to Namida. Adjusting his coat nervously he blinked his watery eyes, he had to leave… he had to just go away. There was no place for him here, not in this school, this so called heaven…. and not with Namida. He was a burden to all of them. What had he done? He had felt their connection… they could have been friends, but this is how he had chosen to end it. It nearly brought Dante to tears once more, failure was all he could see himself as capable of. Bowing his head, he looked over his shoulder with a teary eyed glance, “I am sorry…. but I have to leave.

He turned his head once more, trying with all of his might to take a step, and failing. There was nowhere to go, no place in which to escape. He sighed, a troubled and weighty sigh. Trapped. And so he stood, his head hung, no words and no steps to take… the big world vast and yet entrapping, mocking him. He laughed, that sarcastic and dry hopeless laugh that belongs only to lost souls, “Nothing else you’d like to throw at me?”. Dante’s head was upturned, his question expecting no answer.

Dante’s head blocked thoughts of the past, thoughts of the academy… but he could not fight the loneliness that consumed him, the feeling of helplessness that ran rampant. Was there truly no path for him? Could no-one show him the way?

[Harmony]

Namida gasped sharply in surprise as he wrapped his arms around her her, and she looked up at the pale blue sky, her eyes glistening with the premonition of tears. She trembled, hardly able to breathe. An abundance of emotions clashed inside of her, and in the center, she curled up in the calm of the storm, finding a sense of peace despite the whirlwind of fears and joys that consumed her. Her heart bled with worry for Dante, wounded by an unknown fear... a dark shadow grabbed her by the throat and she nearly choked, her mind searching frantically for an explanation... a reason for his sorrow. How little she knew about this boy... and yet how she cared. It hurt her to know that she had no words of consolation, no answers... there was nothing she could do for him. Never before was she so helpless. He must hate me

And yet, despite the torments she experienced, there was bliss in the embrace. A sad smile brushed across her lips, and she leaned her head on his shoulder as she felt him shake in his cries. She felt somehow that he trusted her, that he felt comforted by her presence... no one could have prepared Namida for the sudden feeling of happiness that gripped her in the knowledge that he let her go to him when he was suffering. Beyond this, she was most ultimately affected by the feeling of safety she had with his arms around her like that. It had been so long since the last time someone had held her that she had nearly forgotten how good it was to feel like nothing could hurt her so long as those arms held her near. She exhaled, finally daring to breathe again. It all felt right to her.

Just then, he released her and turned away from her, and she stared after him, her faint smile fading. It wasn't enough... it wasn't enough to make him feel any better. Her gaze bore into his back, but she stopped seeing him as she found herself lost once more in her thoughts. A sudden wave of guilt rushed through her and she felt her spirit sinking to the ground. Her body felt so heavy... She bit her bottom lip, hardly daring to look at him any longer. He seemed so tortured that it hurt her to see him and know that she was powerless. She wasn't enough. She was never enough. She was just Namida... small, weak, quiet... insecure and afraid.

“I am sorry…. but I have to leave."

She winced, her gaze falling to her feet. How his words stung... She didn't dare look back up. How could she stand to watch him walk away after feeling so important and safe in his arms? He made her believe ever so briefly that she had made an impact and with the knowledge that she was useless to him, how could she bear to look at him again? She bit her bottom lip, and turned from him, hugging her stomach with both arms. She couldn't let him see how he hurt her, not when he was already down. Smile... she told herself, smile for him. Choke down your disgusting self-pity... save it for your pillows, like you always do... but for now, smile for him. The corners of her mouth twitched, but no smile broke through. She hated herself.

A sudden burst of laughter brought her to reality, and she turned slightly, watching as he looked up to the sky.

“Nothing else you’d like to throw at me?”

"Dante..." her voice was painfully quiet, "where are you going to go?"

[Gahrok]

The words hit him like a tidal wave, the quietness of Namida’s voice not softening the verbal blow a bit. Dante’s face scrunched, he bit his lip again, forcing back the familiar tears. Dante gave himself a swift and hard mental kick, why did this sadden him…. she was being… she was being fine. It was him. What had he expected, another embrace? For her to abandon all that she was just to give him some comfort? Where was he going to go… he hadn’t thought of that… what did she care anyways… she was willing to just let him… Dante stopped himself. bowing his head. He needed to just stop, stop punishing himself, blaming others, and stand up… find a place for him. A place to be strong, to be alone, to operate… how he wanted and needed. There was nothing for him here… his eyes trailed to the ground, snaking their way as far as they could towards Namida before he turned them once more ahead, he would allow himself to turn once more…. not now. Moments… moments like those, they were just a little breeze passing by. Nothing to rely on, nothing to live for. A tear escaped, trickling slowly down the shivering skin of a tired and lonely man as he looked up at an empty sky. Dante felt empty, a numbness that presided over his being until even sadness was impossible. It was suddenly so cold and he shivered. Without the pain he knew it would be ok… to turn around, to face her at least for a goodbye. He could do this, he owed it to her….

Dante’s darting eyes looked everywhere but her face, seeking some untold wisdom in the oak tree to the left of her, only allowing himself furtive and nervous glances towards the girl who was so blatantly in-front of him, so painfully apparent. His hands were cold and sweaty, fidgeting constantly. I should’ve just left, he though to himself, and not turned back… I should’ve been alone like always, this.. this was far more painful. The wound could no longer be hidden, no longer closed. This wasn’t like high-school, this wasn’t… like anything. A second long frown haunted his features… she had been there…. she had given what she could, how dare he ask for more? How dare he even hope?

“I don’t know Namida….” he began shakily, “Infact… I may never go… I’m..” he bit his lip once more, they were so chapped they had begun to bleed slightly, he turned his gaze to her. His gaze was imploring, “I’m not strong, Namida, I’m not a hero… and I’m not brave. I think… this place will be where I rest, where I decay… maybe forever. I can’t leave… there is nothing within me that has the courage. Ever since I came here I’ve dreamt of running, and I’ve never even walked out of those gates…”

He stopped, in obvious anguish, blinking back red hot tears. I will be strong, he told himself, I won’t cry anymore… not like I did for you father. “Thankyou.”. Dante slowly turned, this time he really wouldn’t turn back. But this time his heart hung heavy, for this time he knew there would be no permanent escape, no freedom from the walls around him.

[GoldenKitten]

Moved to Dead RP's.