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Contest - Fan Fiction

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PostPosted: Sat Mar 12, 2011 12:57 am    Post subject: Contest - Fan Fiction  Reply with quote

Here are two submissions, please check them out and let the authors know what you think Smile
You're a woman, I'm a calf ... you're a window, I'm a knife ... we come together making chance into starlight ... - Jeff Buckley

ここにいるよ. - Voices of a Distant Star
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PostPosted: Sat Mar 12, 2011 12:58 am    Post subject: Catch - by Koji Otaku Reply with quote

It was spring. A young man was holed up in his room, studying for the SAT he was going to be taking in a week. His room was rather bare, with nothing much except for a bookshelf with a few books, a bed, a desk with a computer resting on top, and a lamp for which to read. Going over a book for helping with the SAT he had checked out at the library, he crammed as much as he could into his brain. However, being the youthful person that he is, he didn't particularity care about the SAT.
That young man happened to be me.
“This sucks,” I moaned to myself as I leaned back in my chair. “Why am I even doing this?”
In the back of my mind I could hear my mom's words: “If you don't take the SAT then you can't get into a good college! So study hard!”
I let out a huge sigh as I stared outside my window. Since it was nice and cool outside I had opened it, letting the nice breeze blow back my curtains and into my room. The few clouds that dotted the sky began to turn yellow as the sun fell into the distant landscape. Behind my backyard fence was a small park. Some kids were yelling as they played on the jungle gym while the occasional jogger ran by on the concrete path. A relaxing evening.
“So why am I working so hard?” I questioned myself.
It was a silly question since I already knew the answer.
“Oh well.”
I turned back to the book and papers on my desk and continued working on the math problem I had been stuck on for the past ten minutes. I scratched the paper with my pencil, only to erase it after finishing. This process repeated again and again and again.
“This question is impossible!” I whined as I leaned back in my chair again.
Seconds after having said that, I was hit in the face. The force that had hit me was strong enough to knock me out of the chair, which had flipped under me as I fell. With a thunk, I was on the ground wreathing in pain. Opening my eyes, I noticed something rolling across my floor. A foreign object to my bare room.
A baseball.
As I picked the baseball up I heard someone yelling from outside. By this point I was rather pissed and ran to the window, expecting to see one of the kids from the playground on the other side of my backyard fence.
“You think I could have my ball back?”
It turned out it wasn't one of the kids. Instead it was someone who looked my age. Not only that but it was a rather cute looking girl wearing a pair of sweat pants and jacket.
“Is this yours?” I yelled out to her.
“Yeah! Could I have it back?”
“You know this ball hit me smack in the face when it flew into my room!”
“It did? I'm sorry!”
Right as I was about to throw the ball back, I lowered my arm.
“I'm gonna keep this.”
“What!?” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “But that's my ball!”
“Yeah, but you hit me in the face with it, so now it's my property.”
“What a load of crap! Don't make me come up there!”
I stared down at her. Her face was growing red with frustration. I was starting to feel sorry for her and was gonna throw it back, but then she jumped onto my fence and started trying to climb over.
“W-what are you doing!?”
“I'm coming over to get it,” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Once she had jumped down from the fence she ran to the back door and thrust it open, then marched right into my house. I looked down from my window as I could hear footsteps pounding up the stairs. Outside my room I could hear a door being thrown opened. Realizing that it wasn't my room the footsteps marched to my door and opened it. There she stood inside my door frame. I thanked God that my parents weren't home.
“My ball,” she said with a stern look on her face as she walked up to me, holding her hand out. Up close she was pretty cute. Her hair was tied back in a braid with a thin ribbon tied in a bow. Her sweats had the mascot from the high school I go to displayed on a pant leg. She also wore pink nail polish on her fingernails.
I gave her back the ball without hesitation.
“See, that wasn't hard,” she said with a smile on her face.
“You know you shouldn't just barge into other people's homes like that.”
“Well you shouldn't steal,” she commented. “Oh, doing homework?”
I picked up my chair and sat back down at my desk. “Studying for the SAT.”
“Ah. You graduating this summer? Me to!” She picked up the book I was using and began to flip through the pages, losing the page I was on. “Some difficult stuff here.”
I took the book out of her grip and put it back on my desk.
“If you happen to be done here then I would like to resume studying.”
“Okay then.”
She started to walk out of my room, but then stopped and turned back to me.
“You want to play catch?”
Her request caught me off guard.
“Uh, well . . .” I looked at my worn out paper, covered with pencil and eraser marks. I wasn't getting anywhere, so a break wouldn't hurt I thought. “Sure.”
She grabbed my wrist and led me down the stairs and into the backyard. Without batting an eye she jumped onto the fence and jumped over. Following her lead I jumped onto the fence and promptly fell over instead of jumping off.
“You alright?” she asked as she helped me up.

“Really!? For real!?”
The two of us had walked out to the middle of the park and started playing catch. As we did I mentioned that I go to the same high school as her.
“I don't think I've ever seen you!”
“It's no surprise,” I explained, “considering our graduating class is like five hundred plus students. It'd be pretty hard to meet every single one, not to mention remember them all.”
“Yeah, I guess you're right. It's like a small town's worth of people passing each other every school day but never actually stopping to say 'Nice to meet you'. Now I wonder who all those other people are that I have yet to meet.”
“Pretty crazy.”
The two of us fell silent for a bit as we focused on our game of catch. It wasn't until she spoke up again that our conversation continued.
“So, studying for the SAT, huh? You planning on going to a university?”
“I don't know yet. Maybe?”
“Which ones are you looking at?”
“Probably the one nearby.”
“What about you?” I asked.
“Me? I'm just gonna go to the community college in town. No wild college experience for me.”
I took her comment as a negative, but her smile was still hanging on her face.
“Is it because you can't go? Cost too much?”
“Nah. I just don't really care much about the college experience. Plus the local community college is way cheaper. Something like fifty dollars per semester hour? That way I can take my time and decide what I want to do later.”
That price had stunned me. All the colleges and universities I had been looking up were several times that amount.
I managed to miss the ball. “Is it really that cheap?”
“Yup. Gonna get all my basics out of the way.”
“What do you want to do for a career?”
“A career? I haven't even thought that far ahead yet. I'm more worried about the present, let alone having to worry about where I'll be or what I'll be doing five years from now.”
“I hear ya. I have no idea what I want to do with my life.”
“Then why go to a university?”
When the ball fell into my hand, I held onto it. I thought to myself, “Why am I going to a university? It's because Mom wants me to, but is there any other reason? Do I really want to go?”
I finally answered. “I don't know.”
“Why not go to community college first? It'll give you more time to figure all that out.”
I pondered as I tossed the ball back to her.
“That sounds like a good idea. Maybe I'll do that.”
“Great! Then maybe I'll see you there!”
“Sounds good.”

The sun continued to sink further into the skyline, turning the evening into twilight. Our game of catch became increasingly difficult as we played without a light source.
“It's getting kind of late,” she said after I had tossed the ball back to her.
“Yeah, you're right.”
The two of us walked up to one another and extended a hand.
“It was nice meeting you,” she said with a smile.
“Yeah. Likewise.”
“You want to play catch again sometime?”
“Alright. Sounds cool.”
“Great! I'll see you later!”
With that, she ran across the field and towards the exit of the park. When she turned back around I waved to her, as she did to me. Finally out of sight, I walked back to my backyard fence and clumsily jumped over it. Standing in the middle of the yard watering plants was my dad, who had a confused look on his face.
“When did you start jumping over the fence to the park again?”
“Long story.”
“I see,” he said as he turned his attention back to his plants. “You can tell me all about that girl later then.”
“Wait, you saw?”
“I just walked inside the house when I saw the two of you jumping over the fence. So, she your girlfriend or something?”
“What? No. I just met her today. That's all.”
“Maybe she's your soul mate.”
“Yeah right.”
“It's like what a wise man once said, 'You'll never know where or when you'll meet that special someone, but when you do you'll feel it.”
“I doubt that,” I said as I entered the house.
“If you say so.”
Back in my room I sat down at my desk and flipped open the book. Once again I began working on the problem I had left earlier. The more I worked on it, the less I thought about it until I gave up. The problem wasn't on my mind anymore and I doubt I'll be ever to go back to it again. Instead a new question popped into my mind, for which all my attention was placed on it.
“I wonder when we'll play catch again.”
You're a woman, I'm a calf ... you're a window, I'm a knife ... we come together making chance into starlight ... - Jeff Buckley

ここにいるよ. - Voices of a Distant Star
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PostPosted: Sat Mar 12, 2011 1:00 am    Post subject: Kokoro no koe - by Haruka Yume Reply with quote

Kokoro no Koe
¬The time of shadows and the time of wind¬

The massive Sakura tree propitiously illuminated in front of my eyes…I clutched the notebook and pen I had firmly within my grasp and inhaled the scent of spring. There was hardly any wind to be felt. It was all so quiet, as if one fall of a cherry blossom would resound in the valley. I walked towards the tree whose shade seemed to stretch over the entire premises; covering the world's pain, veiling the world's ugliness and sat beneath it. As I took another deep breath, I stared at the blank paper fixed before me for the purpose was adequately plain --I had to fill it.

It's been 7 weeks since I last wrote to Akari and about a month since I last heard of her. Time had, with no endeavour at civility, flown at its most mighty power, leaving me with a look of expressionless eyes, leaving me now to contemplate this next clear question: "what should I write?" Thinking back 7 weeks ago, musing over my so-called life passing by the second, then minutes and hours. My line of thoughts was empty. Rummaging through it, I tried to ponder over the events worth mentioning within this letter.
I heard a faint sound as one cherry blossom fell right ahead of me to its destined place below, its flapping in the air within that moment cast me to flip the memories within my head and brought me right back to what happened 6 weeks ago.
I was practicing the tune I'd just learned on my violin, the bow was in long monotonous movements, the sounds produced were echoing in the empty classroom; high pitched, low pitched, continuously elevating, with non-stop intervals for silence. Yet I felt the silence of the room within my chest. I saw the empty seat before me that was always occupied by the elatedly interested looking Akari now with not even a faint shadowy imprint of a soul to occupy it. My grip must have stiffened on the bow for just then the tune came out all wrong, and just then the A string of my violin broke, I remember its swishing sound and my immediate reflex action of getting away. It seemed as if that sound might stir whoever was near or in the room, but the moment it happened came and went, I didn't even know what to feel except the obligatory decision to stop playing. So I sat in the supposed-to-be-Akari's place and stared at my string-broken violin till the bell rang.
The faint echo of the bell still rang in my ear as I perceived where I sat again, with the cherry blossom that fell now resting beside my feet. That memory was one of the rare times in which I found myself on my own in a room. I took the violin two days after that deceased incident to be fixed and now have it on my desk back home. It had witnessed weeks passing by with not a single difference; I've never played it since.
I felt a tickling in my spine of a faint passing air going through me, dodging me, trying as petty as it's power to pursue its way along, not really knowing where to. I saw on my right with no regard for warnings the second cherry blossom falling slowly with the air. Slowly I remember myself walking to the post about 4 weeks ago
Although, as figures back then, I didn't really have the least inclination of expecting to find anything within the post box, I found my legs intent upon heading there as usual after school. As my eyes caught the first sign of a letter, something elicited within me, something coherent, yet mingling with mystery and consequent curiosity, it was far from corporeal but definitely of solidity, definitely heartfelt, something in a moment with this utterly unexpected letter from Akari. Once I got to sit upon my desk and set upon opening it, I heard the clinking of the rain drops upon the window glass yet with all intention of not being distracted I pursued upon the purpose of opening the sought letter. The rain only seemed to be getting more ferocious in its attempt to distract me with its more relentlessly louder clinking. However I would have ignored it all the while more had there not been scratching sounds on the windowsill as well. I diverted my gaze to the window again and beheld Mimi outside of it; obviously back from an adventure of her own, and just as obviously wet. Then in order to get her into safety, I opened the window for her and carried her small in my hands; her fur was all soaked, her tail unmistakably thin. She evidently didn't like the rain or my carrying her much!
Consequently after the delay of wrapping her and kneading her in a towel, I at last was able, while petting Mimi behind her ear to read Akari's long sought letter.

'What is wrong with me?!' I immediately scolded myself as the memory halted, why was I having those meaningless recollections of times I don't suppose Akari would have any interest in? Do I even remember what was within that letter?!
I really needed to start thinking about something worth mentioning to her without trifling events to occupy my already occupied mind, or like dragging on some useless memoranda which only serve as reminder of how I failed in comprehending the crucially stressed upon subject of my youth spent.
Instinctively I looked as yet another cherry blossom caught my eye, as it fell away, here was youth falling away.
It was cold in the middle of the night. Rising from my bed, I headed towards the kitchen to get a warm drink. Then as I was going back to my room again while drinking, I saw the half-open door of my now 28 year old sister's room, but it wasn't that which stopped me, it was unmistakably her faint voice from within the room. She was on the phone with her back at me while I peeped through the half-closed door. The next second I saw her drop the phone on her lap and instead raised both of her hands to her face. Even though I was only seeing the back of her long black hair, it needed no extended aptitude to know exactly where her hands were placed, for soon enough I heard those weak sobbing sounds emerge from her now slightly shaking figure, with simple, deep inhaling of air from between her hands. If my mind had allowed me then to comfort her, I would not have resisted the stimulus of curiosity to know of her misery, if my mind had allowed me then, I would have given all my might for that purpose, for her… only if my mind had allowed me then. Instead I stood there, watched her for some time more, somehow my legs remained riveted to the ground, somehow I never even tried to do a thing. What did that say of me?
Why was I clutching the pen that hard?
It is very curious what happens behind closed doors in the middle of the night. Seeing my 28 year old sister crying for the first time since she was seven should have aroused something within me, yet with all intention, I suppressed that memory within.
Here was the fallen cherry blossom upon the ground, no; indeed here was youth upon the ground.
I tried to purposely write on that still very unfortunately blank paper, starting with 'Dear Akari,' and as I finished curving it, yet again, falling right on my lap this time was another cherry blossom, never stopping in its path, never thinking twice, all at once it fell on my lap, I couldn't stop the memory as it shaped itself before me…
I was again set upon the purpose of writing Akari a long meaningful letter, I went to the nearby station, and while pretending to wait for somebody, sat upon a bench to capture the proper words to be written. I gazed around me at the people's fast pace; everyone going through their everyday life. The ticking of the train station clock seemed within that moment to be deafening in its own perception. How I felt my heart pounding against my chest! How the ticking and the pounding seemed to go both through entirely different roads. Whether I was ahead of time or that time was ahead of me, either way I could never have brought them together. An impasse was before us in all its meanings and menaces. In that manner how could I have went forward in my act to live? How could I have endured the disparity of consciousness and existence, while claiming the fool of the hour as it masochistically passed? As if the world never wanted to go on anymore, only forcefully complying, only compulsorily evolving.
Within the irony of the moment, I heard to my great dismay, the split second that the train station clock suddenly missed. It ebbed on forever, the train station clock had indeed stopped, its battery must have given in to its last breath, yet why were all the people still moving, still impassive, still lifeless…

I blinked as my recollection came to an end. Yes, I do remember how I felt back then, I do also most positively remember going home that day without a single word written.

My pen was shaking on the second line, my obvious hesitation was undeniable; I couldn't remain claiming obliviousness to it anymore. Why with the passing years did I find it so difficult to write a few words in broad daylight? There were so many things that were well hidden once the sun sets, so many dreams, so many aspirations whispered in bed at night, right before I sleep. Thinking tomorrow has it all, all hopes, all wishes, all trifle of insanity within the moment.
And all of a sudden the realisation hits me as one sharp raindrop on one's umbrella: I was no longer a boy of ten years old, who chased trains or rode down the steep lawn on my bicycle, who loved browsing through the drinks on the shelf of a convenience store in the middle of the night; without buying any, who speculated over the iridescence shining before me on a bubble, who sat on the asphalt right before the rain, gazing at the cumulonimbus clouds we so childishly yearned together to hold one day, when we'd have met again in our secret promised place, the sky; the one thing that unites us, above us both, mingling with both of our lives.
Now everyday it was all the same, I was hardly ever alone yet somehow inadvertently  always lonely, then once the sun sets, I'd cast myself within the void of the usual darkness, waiting, hoping, wishing, yearning…all folly.
I stood up while hearing my amplified panting in the amphitheatre resembling the abyss I went on in, under the label of life. Ignorance is perhaps a bliss, yet inexplicably painful! The hope in itself is deteriorating on its axis, with that realisation I find my hand stretched before me searching hither and thither for some absolute good, some answer to the insanity which shaped my life, my eminently misshaped life.
I still felt the fingers clenching the paper hard, yet with all mighty power shaping within me, I yearned not to confess the necessity of guiltiness. My blank life stared at me; while entirely filled with pathos, I beheld myself epitomise failure in every moment, every breath. So now I ask myself the next most obvious question that which I forced myself to remain oblivious to all this time, the question, the absolutely unquestionable answer which would follow and an eternity of dreams which proceeded, those moments of fear, a dark memento or two, those feelings they shape…What About Our Wasted Lives? There it was… lying suspended in midair.
The veil that obscured it all was blown away by the wind, as the wind in question came rushing in on me with all its potently streaming desire to spread.
Every cherry blossom seemed to be raining on me, revolving around me. My outstretched hand caught naught of my dreams to catch a falling one. I saw a universe within a moment, all memories, all one big incarnate dream. The broken string of my violin swishing in the air, the velvet touch of Mimi's wet fur in the ridges of my fingers, the teardrops of my 28 year old sister streaming one after the other, the ticking, the ticking, the ticking of the train station clock forever…The inexplicable definition of forever and before spent, merely spent in the early intervals of happiness crushed and crumbling beneath.
All those reminiscent cherry blossoms cast me to recollect a once undeniably felicitous life. That twinkle of serenity in a clandestinely existing lifetime could only now be seen through a small kaleidoscope of whirling images and scenes, simply, if they were but anything else, it wouldn't be called life.
And the wind passed.

I was still standing there, the cherry blossoms now weren't forcefully flying; their will to fall slowly around me was a relief beyond recall. My right hand still held the pen as a small line was drawn by me in the middle of 'Dear Akari and the same hand curved 'Dear Kanae' right beside it.
Somehow something seemed to become concrete, somehow it all made sudden absolute sense. My own will now to choose, to decide, the power to make a decision within the moment, all the dark hours, is indubitably sweet an elixir.
All the cherry blossoms, no; all my happy moments…to  live them, to remember them, is to commit oneself to peace... all of them… forming one face of an aesthetically portrayed life, framed in concealment, then for a rare sentiment coming into focus, heading for one solitary conclusion of a different kind...
This life, this indeed happening happiness –even if the sight suggests an alternative, the crux of mentality willingly complies– this life, when I close my eyes and simply feel it, to feel life, to feel this is to feel the inevitably, wholeheartedly imbuing feeling…say what is it? What it is…for all…it is…

You're a woman, I'm a calf ... you're a window, I'm a knife ... we come together making chance into starlight ... - Jeff Buckley

ここにいるよ. - Voices of a Distant Star

Last edited by Laz on Sat Mar 12, 2011 1:13 pm; edited 1 time in total
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