They were like diamonds,
glittering against black crushed velvet of the eternal night sky. The stars
danced before his eyes, casting muted light upon his heaven-turned face, the
luminous moon reflecting upon beads of translucent tears that rolled down his
cheeks. Lifting a delicate hand, he gently brushed them away, then dropped his
head, blue-black hair falling to obscure his face from the world. Oh, would that
he could hide from the world forever. Toshiya let himself fall back on the soft
grass, throwing a hand over his eyes. The scents of autumn slowly fading away
rose from the soft earth, and he inhaled sharply to breathe in the wonderful
aroma. How long had he been here, on this enclosed patch of grass, unmarred by
human hands? An hour? Three? He
wasn’t sure, and didn’t care. Nothing really mattered. This was his little
world, his perfect little world where he was king, where everything shone and
glittered, where he did not feel so… alone. In this world, he could have
anything he wanted, even… even love. And that love came in the form of a
beautiful man, a forbidden love that would never flourish. Toshiya sighed as he
thought of Die and Shinya. He was happy for them, yes, increasingly so, yet…at
the same time, he couldn’t help but be bitterly angry. For years, he had watched
as they had played their game, knowing that one day, the game would end and
truth would become reality. Unlucky for him, it was never a game, but a distant
longing, a one-sided love that would never be returned, no matter how hard he
tried to win the other’s affections… Kaoru… The name was like music inside of the shelter of his
mind. So beautiful… So perfect… How long has it been? How many days, years have
passed? Yet every time Toshiya had attempted to gain Kaoru’s attention and
affection, he was bitterly rejected… But when he was on stage, body gyrating to
the beat of the music, his prayers were answered when Kaoru had finally returned
his affections. Although the gestures of love and intimacy were feigned, he at
least had a moment of Kaoru, a moment to know what it could be like. So, without fail Toshiya counted the days
to every concert they would perform, for the two hours he could spend as
Kaoru’s…And now, Kaoru was utterly untouchable, in love with a woman who Toshiya
could never compete with. Would his flighty whims ever leave him? Would these dreams and thoughts plagued
with images of him ever be gone? He sighed, letting his hand drop to his side as
he gazed at the sky once more. Love, such a silly little game. His eyes were
burning, a prelude to the tears that would come once more.
They were like poison,
these thoughts and memories that came like a flood within her. Aya hugged her
sides, forcing herself to fight the pain that spread within her, forcing the
tears back from where they came. She didn’t want to think of days when she had
spent, lying cold and naked on a dirty, stained floor, locked up in a dark room
alone…by the very people she had been forced to trust…Yet the images and
memories came flooding back. Aya cried.
As a girl of barely
sixteen, Aya had lived a rather normal life, growing up in the United States, a
first generation Japanese-American. Her father worked for Microsoft as a
database administrator, her mother was a soft-spoken woman who stayed at home to
take care of the house. She had good grades, and a wonderful sister who was two
years younger than her. Then, her world was suddenly shattered when her parents
never returned home from a trip to Chinatown. Caught in cross-fire between two
gangs, they were gunned down mercilessly, and left to die in the dusty street,
the delicate Chinese goods that they had bought for their daughters scattered
about them in the street. This began a nightmare which tore Aya and her sister
apart.
Sent to Japan to live with
cousins who she never met, Aya left with her few precious belongings, promised a
good future. Upon arrival, she was given a small tatami-padded room, and her
belongings were taken away and examined. Anything that could have been sold for
money was taken from her, never to be seen again. No amount of protesting could
have brought them back. Aya prayed her sister met with better fortune. These
cousins that she had been sent to were not the prosperous, good family that she
was promised. They were lost in debauchery and debasement, who ran a business
that promised clients the sexual favors of the women within the family. For
nearly a month, they beat Aya every day, locking her in a room with nothing but
rancid water, nearly killing her to gain her submission.
Then, the men began to
come. Scores of them, sometimes ten in a day. How many men had she been with?
Aya had lost count. Out of fear, she had given her body to dozens of men who
hurt her in every way imaginable. For two years, she lived in this filth,
calculating an escape. Finally, one cold winter night, Aya gathered up her few
belongings and packed them in a bag, pulling on her warmest clothing. She fled
the house, eluding capture of several cousins who had chased after her. For
hours she had walked along the cold highway, nearly delirious with exhaustion.
She watched car after car pass her, then finally, a small Fiat stopped for her.
The driver had seemed to be a nice young man named Satsuma Koori. He was young,
twenty-two years old, only four years older than her. Koori had taken her to his
Tokyo appetto, where, for the next few months, he fed and sheltered her. Aya had
found work as a freelance model and photographer, and managed to move out into
her own little appetto.
A year passed, and Koori became her lover. The
relationship was wonderful at first, full of flowers and little gifts, empty
promises of love, litanies of adulation. After several months passed, it began
to decline. Koori wanted her to be a good submissive Japanese woman, and began
beating her. Finally, after several hospitalizations, Aya broke off the
relationship. She would not submit to men ever again.
Used, battered, broken,
confused, a soul that was still struggling to accept the horrors that had
befallen her. Yet, Aya couldn’t bring herself to come to terms with such
horrible things. She was dirty, a disgusting being that could never be truly
loved. Kaoru must never know…He must never find out. Aya curled onto her side,
burying her head in her hands as she sobbed, hot salty tears streaming down her
face, stinging her cheeks.
My life's been wasted
Everything is gone
My life's been wasted
And I am all alone
My
life's been wasted
There is no one else
My life's been wasted
It's
time I face myself
I've spent
My life
Trapped inside
A
cycle of self destruction
And I've spent
My
whole life
Trying to numb
The pain inside my soul
And furious
I cry
When I realized
I fought this war with no one
I'm tired
I'm so fucking tired
Gotta find a way
To keep myself alive
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