This is something I wrote last year as a character study of sorts when I started a TWEWY roleplay. I don't intend to write anymore for this (especially since I'm working on KHOC a lot haha), but I'd like to rewrite it eventually and do a better job, especially with the interaction between the characters at the end.
If you're curious about anything related to the story, let me know! Otherwise, enjoy! c:
If you're curious about anything related to the story, let me know! Otherwise, enjoy! c:
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"are you scared of death?"
"no."
"then what're you afraid of?"
"i'm afraid of you."
"no."
"then what're you afraid of?"
"i'm afraid of you."
[ the last memory • final link ]
「ザラストメモリー・鎖の終わり」
すばらしきこのせかい
「ザラストメモリー・鎖の終わり」
すばらしきこのせかい
date – 17.09.XX
time – 19:20
The room shook, suffocated by shouts, screams filled of anger and fear. Two pairs of eyes stared, reflecting the fearful child before them -- the one who would always fail them. The one who could never be like him.
Their words filled her ears, crushing what remained of her flickering spirit. She didn't look up. She didn't dare look back.
Her sneakers collided with the concrete. The room was gone. The mother and father always said that they cared "so much" were cast aside, along with all of their lies.
The thundering clatter of the train car snapped her out of her spell. The reflections of the world outside, beyond the foggy, rain-tinged windows, flickered into her eyesight.
The past images that swelled up in her mind were cast away into the confines of her memory, yet their mark had been left behind: just a thought sent her frail figure shaking. Pulling her knees to her chest, she pinched her eyelids together.
She could still hear them: her mother's screams, her father's shouts.
The girl could never meet their expectations. She could never cast aside her fear -- what boiled up inside of her every time she spoke. Her throat would tighten, her words would stumble and become muted.
Her brother understood what school was like, especially for her -- after all, he was always the one that stood up for her, kept her safe. When she was scared, he would be there, protecting her from all of the bullies and giving her a voice when she was too afraid to speak.
But university called and swallowed him whole, taking him away.
Her parents never understood what he had. All they wanted was success, for her to make the same marks as he had. But, every passing moment that they glanced at her, all they saw was their failure.
This was the tipping point: why she had etched the word "run" into her mind.
Knees pulling into her chest tighter, the young Kusari watched the world pass by. Cold, concrete walls faded into a muted sky, creating a backdrop to the hundreds of silhouetted skyscrapers.
Shibuya.
Home.
The train clanked and clacked across the track. A droning voice, coupled with a ping!, signaled the next stop. Kusari remained linked to her seat, knees dropping and feet clicking against the steel floor. She reached down and withdrew a device from her vest's pocket. It sat loosely in her frail hands as she ran her thumbs over the controls. The screens pulsed to life, a blue glow lighting up the twelve-year-old's pale features within the dull cabin.
Passengers begun to flood into the train, taking their seats or gripping the metallic bars that lined the subway car. As the brunette child became consumed in her gaming antics, a musty, smoky smell flooded her nostrils. Kusari curled her lips inwards, holding back a choke.
Someone chose to sit beside her, reeking with that smoky, putrid odor. Her nose wrinkled and she pulled aside, pulling her DS closer to her features.
A baseball hat shielded their dark, ashy features, a hood pulled snuggly over their cap. The man looked young, barely scratching off his final years as a teenager. The blue glow of his phone's screen lit up his shadowed features as his back sunk down in the plastic seat.
A brow quirked on Kusari's features. The train car was mostly empty (after all, it was the middle of the afternoon), so why sit there? The girl shrugged and went back to her game as the train begun to speed towards its destination.
The bright hues lit up in the girl's vision. Pixelated characters dashed across the screens, reds as sweet as apples and azure blues as bright as a pristine summer sky. It was such a contrast from the monochrome world within and outside of the cabin.
Seconds clicked by with each clank and clatter, each sway of the cart signaling another passing moment. The train's destination became more livid and sharp in the views of its passengers.
ping!
Five minutes: gone.
"Now arriving in Shibuya Station," hummed the hypnotic voice.
The droning clatters were silenced. The world's chatter – a symphony of offbeat footsteps, mundane phone calls, teenagers' petty gossip, and sickeningly sweet J-Pop tunes – broke the silence. Pulling out from their confines, the doors slid open and revealed the monochromatic world beyond. Another sound was added into Shibuya's track mix: the soothing patter of rainfall.
Kusari's eyes lit up. The girl leapt to her feet and the DS snapped shut. She pulled her crimson hood over her beanie and brunette hair, taking a step forward.
The fire-painted DS slipped into the left side of her vest's pouch.
And, from that same pocket, it disappeared. Into the grip of the running, hooded man.
NO!
"Hey!"
Sneakers slammed into the metal panes and out the door, onto the cold concrete outside. The man had taken to a staircase, charging off into the lingering crowds below. She shot down the same staircase, following the floating trail of the man's hoodie.
"Give it back!"
Her throat crackled, voice dying with each word. Her footsteps echoed off of the concrete, splashing through puddles and sliding away. She could see it in his grip, waving aimlessly like it were some silly little toy. In his eyes, perhaps, but, in her eyes: it was precious, sacred, something she had to protect.
She had to keep up: she had to catch it before it was too late!
Shibuya's world flew by. Hachiko, the Scramble, Ten-Four, Dogenzaka, all of them gone and passed. It was down an alleyway that the man took, sneaking past a discarded ramen shop and deeper into the shadows.
It was as if he had twirled around, a sly grin on his dark features as he curled a finger towards the girl. Beaconing her down the alleyway, deeper into the unknown.
Kusari kept up the chase, running into A-East and past the concert stage. But, with a jolt, the game changed.
The man was gone, turning a corner and disappearing as if he had never existed at all. Kusari never stopped, not until she turned that corner and into a cast aside alleyway beside the stage hall.
A squeaky gasp – a tiny "ah!" – broke the stiff, damp air. A splish and a splash echoed across the confining walls.
One splash of color remained in the monochrome alleyway beneath the dull dusk sky. Left atop a dry patch of asphalt was that lone flicker of crimson. The girl scooped it into her hands, holding the DS to her chest. Her knees buckled and crashed into a puddle, soaking her khaki shorts. Not a movement nor a reaction followed.
"for me?"
"yeah. i figured that, since we won't be goin' to the arcade anymore, we could play over this instead. maybe we could play some games on the weekends!"
The warmth of the console broke the cold filled up inside of her. Shudders crackled through her arms, across her skin. A rapid, anxious beat played against the bright plastic, drumming an awful beat that it fought to break. Her lungs choked and cried, Kusari taking in fast breathes to fill in the fallen quota of oxygen. "yeah. i figured that, since we won't be goin' to the arcade anymore, we could play over this instead. maybe we could play some games on the weekends!"
But it was safe. Her DS, that poor little console, was safe.
A crimson hue spread across the girl's sclera, pinched back behind her eyelids. Her eyelashes dampened and her cheeks flushed as the cool droplets rained upon them.
Kusari pulled the DS away from her chest, letting it rest on her open palms.
"why did he have to go?
why?"
why?"
Why did that man take her DS? It was a silly little game console but, despite it's "silly" qualities, it held something so important to her. She pocketed the DS again in her shorts' pocket, making a silent vow to keep it safe.
The chase was done and over with; her DS was safe, everything turning back to normal. Kusari rose to her sneakers, rubbing her eyes. One loosely curled fist twisted over her eyelids, hiding the inflamed, emotional reaction. She shook her head, sighed, and placed a hand tenderly over the DS in her pocket before both hands dropped into her red vest's pockets.
Blinking twice, the girl looked down. She quirked a brow.
Amidst the rain puddles, upon the damp concrete, it seemed as though an image had formed. Perhaps it was just someone's graffitied masterpiece, now victim to the elements, but why would someone draw this on the ground in a back alley?
Kusari deciphered the image, leaning closer.
A shadow had stretched across the dim corridor. There were eyes staring back. This shadow was sneering.
"What? All that for a f**king Game Boy? Geez, someone's materialistic."
A skipped beat played in her chest, a shock leaping from her feet to her shoulders. Her eyes bugged, a chill scampered down her back.
Did she dare look back?
A soggy, sloshing step came into the alley, one step following the next.
With one sliding step, Kusari's head turned, narrowing at the sight of a shadowed figure at the very mouth of the alley. The patter of rain made them look like a dark, amorphous shape, but their features became more sharpened and clear with each steps.
A baseball hat.
A hood.
Dark clothes.
And a smirk.
The girl pulled back, shaking.
It was him.
Kusari gulped, twisting her hands together. She didn't dare look at him, but... she had to know.
"W-why'd... you... take it...?"
"Why?" he said with a click of his tongue. "Well, why not?"
Narrowing her eyes, the girl watched the man, who was rummaging in his pocket, as he grew taller in her gaze. She slid her hand over her pocket.
"Well... umm..." she fidgeted, turning her gaze away, "You didn't... do a very good job of taking it... huh?" A coy grin flashed onto her features, but quickly disappeared with the man's next oncoming step. Her entire body was shaking as she reeled back.
"Oh," the man chuckled, "You expected a show then, I'm guessing? I'm sorry that I couldn't deliver for ya, kiddo, but I have other matters to attend to."
Stopping three steps before her, the tan-skinned man had stopped before the girl, towering at least a foot over her and casting an even taller shadow over her; it was enough to make her want to crawl back and hide.
Kusari gulped. She curled her toes within her shoes, digging her sneakers into the concrete. Her gaze trailed from left to right, passing by either side of the man. The ideas started churning. Maybe, just maybe...
scoff!
Yes! She made a break for it!
SLAM!
"Gah!"
Oh, but it wasn't that easy.
A foot slammed down, blocking the path, and sending the girl stumbling back. She hissed, shoulders violently shuddering.
click!
Her bugged eyes locked on him. She fought to keep her shaking hands steady.
"Tell me, kid, are you scared of death?"
"...what?"
The man smirked beneath the hat's shadow, flashing a sharp, toothy grin.
"'cause you've got a pistol staring ya down and I'm pretty eager to pull the trigger."
The silver gun glinted in the weak street light. The distinct click of the gun rang in her ears. Kusari's wide eyes stared down at the black opening; it stared back.
"Tell me, kid. Are you scared?"
The girl impulsively shook her head, catching a glimpse of the man's golden eyes staring back. She slid back a step and tightened her fists.
"N... no!"
"Survey says..." Raising a finger and letting his eyes turn upwards, he snapped his fingers, mouthing a 'bing!' sound, "somebody's a liar!"
Kusari gulped, pulling her hands to her chest, "B... but, wait!" Her voice shuddered, "I-I'm not scared..."
Lowering the weapon, the tan-skinned man leaned forward with a fist on his side, nose to nose with the shaken girl.
"Then what're you afraid of? If not death, then what?"
Stepping back, Kusari focused her eyes on the wet concrete.
"I'm scared... of..." She swallowed hard. Her fists turned inwards, clenching tighter and tighter, with arms pressed to her sides. Her eyes stared down the weapon, never daring to turn away.
"I'm scared... of you."
He leaned back, arms folded. A small pout formed on his angular face.
"Well, that's a shame. I'm a pretty nice guy, once ya get to know me... 'least, that's what I've heard." The gun rose, turned as the man's eyes scanned across it. "It's just too bad we don't have time for introductions."
A hard swallow slithered down the girl's throat.
"W... what?" she chuckled, pulling back. "'c-course... we got time!"
The man clicked his tongue, his frown deepened into his features.
"Not so much..."
Kusari stared up with bugged eyes, reflecting the dark, suffocating world pressing against her.
"What'd you... mean...?"
click.
"'cause," the man licked his lips, "I ain't here to chat, kiddo."
The blackness seemed to glare at her, grinning ever so slyly as its one eye stared her down. The pistol's silver exterior glinted in the dark alley.
The girl's eyes fixated on the pistol, stepping another anxious step away. Her hands trembled, her heart slamming against her breastbone, yet she dug her sneakers into her concrete.
"So," she choked, her voice turning squeaky and scratching, "you're... gonna... kill me...?"
"Oh, kiddo..." he chuckled, "you thought I wasn't?"
Something damp trickled down her cheek. She coaxed herself to believe that it was just rain, but the crimson trails etching onto her sclera proved otherwise.
"But... why?"
BANG!
Oh no.
SLAM!
Please no...
SLAM!
She could feel something flooding into her, breaking the skin and sounding small clicks! on the concrete behind her. Pain rocketed through her torso, yet turned numb. That fearful, shaking spark was gone: Kusari had been turned to stone.
THUD!
The world was merely a shadow, blackness forming in splotches amongst the other shadows filling her gaze. Her blue orbs reflected that darkening world, once wide with fright, now slowly drawing shut.
Why?
The word flickered into her thoughts. That one last word.
Why?
One last feeling remained: the dull thud in the centre of her chest. That, too, faded along with the flickering remains of a distant voice...
"Sleep tight, kiddo."
I don't own the game, but I suppose watching YouTube videos of it count? x3