Cherry Blossoms
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Mina and I wrote this story...
A girl who's haunted by the fact that she killed her mother during
childbirth. Therefore hating cherryblossoms... ladaladalada..
romance/drama... unfinished >.<
Can you tell who wrote which?
Cherry Blossoms
I hate you, I hate you. You promised, I believed it. I was a fool, and paid the price. I hate you..... These thoughts so cruel, but still, it was her only consolation. But did consolation always hurt this bad? Aimi scribbled mindlessly in her worn out notebook, rubbing away tears that started to form. The classroom was bustling, but she only heard the scratching of the pen and the gentle breeze that blew in from an open window. Everything was calm, waiting almost. Holding it's breathe for something to happen, but even it was unsure of what. The sky was a light blue, not irregular here in Akita, Japan, but it was different. She looked down at her notebook, scribbling out a branch of cherry blossoms drawn just before. Even her subconciousness would not let her escape from the troubles of reality. Disgusted, she ripped out the paper, throwing it out the window. She knew that it was a school rule not to throw any of your personal belongings out the window, instead of recycling. But it wasn’t a personal belonging, at least not anymore.
“Attention class! Yuri, I believe that includes you! We have a new student. “Gesturing towards the class, Mrs. Ikeda (or Ikeda-san) said “If you would do us the honor of introducing yourself to the class. ” Aimi looked up, questioning whether or not the teacher had gone mad. Mrs. Ikeda looked at the boy with a smile, something she normally wouldn’t have done unless she respected him. Honor? What great importance can he have to do us the honors? Aimi dismissed the questions, but did not totally erase curiosity.
The boy, frozen with nervousness, managed to mutter, “Makoto, my names Makoto.” Aimi, rolling her eyes began to shove her notebook back in her backpack, causing more rips and tears. Great. Another insignificant imbecile for these small-minded girls to drool over. It had only been minutes before Mrs. Ikeda barked out to pair up like every Friday. Girls began to giggle and grab chairs, while the boys preferred the tables. The classroom was now filled with, “Get down Kyoya. “ Or " Akeeta, let's work together". Aimi sat amongst the noise, aggravated with the now even numbered student population. That would have to mean that.....
“Can I sit here“ The new kid asked, gripping the back of the chair. He was looking down, expecting to be rejected by yet another person. It wouldn't have mattered much to him; it was not like it had not happened to him before, right?
Aimi sighed, “Don’t think I have much of a choice, now do I? Seeing how everyone has a partner except you and I. “She did not mean to sound so angry, she just did. Her grandma used to ask about her seeming to be upset at the world. She was not. Only mad at the parts that hurt.
He looked up at her, " I...I could, um, sit somewhere else if you like, make some arrangements?” Arrangements? What authority must he have to possibly ask Mrs. Ikeda to make arrangements especially for him?
“No, no. It's okay. “Aimi responded, quickly before he would have the chance to tell the teacher. Heaven knows what her grandmother would do if she got a call from school.
For a while, there was an awkward silence that passed between them. She, herself, did not want to speak, while he thought that whatever he said would sound stupid. That it might sound rather undignified.
Aimi sighed, resting her chin on her folded arms, blowing a stray hair out of her face. She had already completed the assignment, and it seemed like it wasn’t her first time ahead of the rest of the class. She always thought that the rest of the class was too stupid to complete it on time, or just those who would rather waste their time. Either way, she thought they were slow.
A few minutes later, Aimi watched the boy set his pencil down. She silently checked her paper with his, not touching it, just scanning with her eyes. Getting through about half the paper, the white sheet was pulled away. She bit her lip, preparing to speak, but looked up to meet the boy’s eyes. “What kind of self respecting young lady would cheat? “ His eyes were soft, seeming to sparkle with their own glow. His eyes were weird to her, they were brown, but with a tint of green. She couldn’t help but give a faint smile, but soon quickly morphed to a deadly serious front.
“For your information, I wasn’t cheating, merely checking to make sure you were correct. After all, no one in their right mind would cheat off you.“ Aimi felt bold, sure that her reply would put him in shame. That it would silence his proud tongue from muttering such an insult. But was it really an insult? She didn’t care; it was his own fault for ever challenging her.
“If you were just checking, so then check away, we wouldn’t want you failing this class, now do we? Oh, where are my manners? My name’s Kiyoshi, and if you wouldn’t mind. I’d be most honored if you would tell me yours?” Kiyoshi smirked, amazed by how determined she was. How stubborn she seemed to be.
Aimi looked down at her paper, shaking her head she replied, “Thanks, but no thanks. It was only my good nature that made me want to save you from being embarrassed by getting an F on your first worksheet. You don’t deserve to be honored, but it is Aimi.” Standing up, Aimi gathered her books as the bell gave a high pitched scream. Before Kiyoshi knew it, Aimi was out the door before he can utter a farewell.
“Obaasan, I’m home.” Aimi yelled through the house, calling for her grandmother in Japanese. The walk home had been tiresome, but Aimi was comforted by the fact that she was now at home, but that could be comfort and a burden. “Obaasan, where is father?”
Aimi’s grandmother, Satomi, looked down, her eyes weary but wise. “He’s at the bar.” Upon seeing her granddaughter’s expression, she pulled her close. Pushing away a strand of almond hair from Aimi’s unnaturally pale skin, she whispered somberly, “Don’t be so judgmental. Have some heart for him, he’s just going through a tough time right now. “ Aimi looked up at her grandmother’s face, behind all the wrinkles of age, she could peer into her eyes. Never hard, always warm and soft.
Aimi~
"Never Obaasan, but it's the right thing that I have to do. Knowing that I've caused him a deal of tough times to go through alone, and you are right, he is going through a tough time right now...all because of me, ever since I was born to exist in this world." Aimi whispered, the words merely a sound to hear. Tears started to form in her nearly dark, or nearly light eyes- and impassive sight to see; a wall that veiled anyone to look into her soul, solitarily.
"You are right, and you are wrong, my dear. Your father cares a graet deal about you Aimi, and that is where you are wrong." Aimi's grandmother peered into those puzzling, yet, beautiful light and dark eyes. "Oh, Aimi"
"You just don't understand, Obaasan. he hates me, hatred lingers in heart always. I know it...I can feel it. I should cease to exist; I just can't live a life freely knowing that I killed Mother, thats t-the worst! A murderer...how am I supposed to cope and live a happy life through this! I can't. Do you not understand, Obaasan?" Aimi diligently whispered on, sobs in between.
Aimi's grandmother calmly sat there, cathcing on every word. Her forehead creased into a thousand ancient wrinkles, "Aimi..." she sighed. "I do understand, but you did not kill your mother, dear. Don't ever call yourself a murderer. I know you, and you are innocent. You've not done anything wrong as of." She looked at Aimi and smiled, as if a thousand rays of golden sunlight have fallen onto her, showering her with an expressive amount of pleasure. "Aimi, did you know that you were born under the first fall of Sakura, the cherry blossoms- a meaning of peace and tranquility? Did you know that? The first thing , when you came into this world, did you know that you've been first touched by the beautiful blossoms of those trees. You." she pouinted her wrinkled index finger at Aimi, resting it on her heart, "are a meaning of love and peace."
Aimi looked transfixed at her grandmother and siently nodded, "I'm sorry Obaasan. I know that we've been thoughthis already, but..." She quickly wiped a stray tear away, catching it with the hem of her black sleeve, and continuously starred down at the glossy, wooden floors, her tears a puddle of silent regrets and grieved.
"no buts child," She softened her gave even more. "You will always know that I'm heere if you need something. I'l be waiting to help you, AImi. Ill always be there when you need me, you aren;t alone in the world.
"Thank you, Obaasan." Aimi quietly said, pulling her grandmother into an embrace. "I will always, for eternity, love you Obaasan...I've never regretted you snd never will I do."
A girl who's haunted by the fact that she killed her mother during
childbirth. Therefore hating cherryblossoms... ladaladalada..
romance/drama... unfinished >.<
Can you tell who wrote which?
Cherry Blossoms
I hate you, I hate you. You promised, I believed it. I was a fool, and paid the price. I hate you..... These thoughts so cruel, but still, it was her only consolation. But did consolation always hurt this bad? Aimi scribbled mindlessly in her worn out notebook, rubbing away tears that started to form. The classroom was bustling, but she only heard the scratching of the pen and the gentle breeze that blew in from an open window. Everything was calm, waiting almost. Holding it's breathe for something to happen, but even it was unsure of what. The sky was a light blue, not irregular here in Akita, Japan, but it was different. She looked down at her notebook, scribbling out a branch of cherry blossoms drawn just before. Even her subconciousness would not let her escape from the troubles of reality. Disgusted, she ripped out the paper, throwing it out the window. She knew that it was a school rule not to throw any of your personal belongings out the window, instead of recycling. But it wasn’t a personal belonging, at least not anymore.
“Attention class! Yuri, I believe that includes you! We have a new student. “Gesturing towards the class, Mrs. Ikeda (or Ikeda-san) said “If you would do us the honor of introducing yourself to the class. ” Aimi looked up, questioning whether or not the teacher had gone mad. Mrs. Ikeda looked at the boy with a smile, something she normally wouldn’t have done unless she respected him. Honor? What great importance can he have to do us the honors? Aimi dismissed the questions, but did not totally erase curiosity.
The boy, frozen with nervousness, managed to mutter, “Makoto, my names Makoto.” Aimi, rolling her eyes began to shove her notebook back in her backpack, causing more rips and tears. Great. Another insignificant imbecile for these small-minded girls to drool over. It had only been minutes before Mrs. Ikeda barked out to pair up like every Friday. Girls began to giggle and grab chairs, while the boys preferred the tables. The classroom was now filled with, “Get down Kyoya. “ Or " Akeeta, let's work together". Aimi sat amongst the noise, aggravated with the now even numbered student population. That would have to mean that.....
“Can I sit here“ The new kid asked, gripping the back of the chair. He was looking down, expecting to be rejected by yet another person. It wouldn't have mattered much to him; it was not like it had not happened to him before, right?
Aimi sighed, “Don’t think I have much of a choice, now do I? Seeing how everyone has a partner except you and I. “She did not mean to sound so angry, she just did. Her grandma used to ask about her seeming to be upset at the world. She was not. Only mad at the parts that hurt.
He looked up at her, " I...I could, um, sit somewhere else if you like, make some arrangements?” Arrangements? What authority must he have to possibly ask Mrs. Ikeda to make arrangements especially for him?
“No, no. It's okay. “Aimi responded, quickly before he would have the chance to tell the teacher. Heaven knows what her grandmother would do if she got a call from school.
For a while, there was an awkward silence that passed between them. She, herself, did not want to speak, while he thought that whatever he said would sound stupid. That it might sound rather undignified.
Aimi sighed, resting her chin on her folded arms, blowing a stray hair out of her face. She had already completed the assignment, and it seemed like it wasn’t her first time ahead of the rest of the class. She always thought that the rest of the class was too stupid to complete it on time, or just those who would rather waste their time. Either way, she thought they were slow.
A few minutes later, Aimi watched the boy set his pencil down. She silently checked her paper with his, not touching it, just scanning with her eyes. Getting through about half the paper, the white sheet was pulled away. She bit her lip, preparing to speak, but looked up to meet the boy’s eyes. “What kind of self respecting young lady would cheat? “ His eyes were soft, seeming to sparkle with their own glow. His eyes were weird to her, they were brown, but with a tint of green. She couldn’t help but give a faint smile, but soon quickly morphed to a deadly serious front.
“For your information, I wasn’t cheating, merely checking to make sure you were correct. After all, no one in their right mind would cheat off you.“ Aimi felt bold, sure that her reply would put him in shame. That it would silence his proud tongue from muttering such an insult. But was it really an insult? She didn’t care; it was his own fault for ever challenging her.
“If you were just checking, so then check away, we wouldn’t want you failing this class, now do we? Oh, where are my manners? My name’s Kiyoshi, and if you wouldn’t mind. I’d be most honored if you would tell me yours?” Kiyoshi smirked, amazed by how determined she was. How stubborn she seemed to be.
Aimi looked down at her paper, shaking her head she replied, “Thanks, but no thanks. It was only my good nature that made me want to save you from being embarrassed by getting an F on your first worksheet. You don’t deserve to be honored, but it is Aimi.” Standing up, Aimi gathered her books as the bell gave a high pitched scream. Before Kiyoshi knew it, Aimi was out the door before he can utter a farewell.
“Obaasan, I’m home.” Aimi yelled through the house, calling for her grandmother in Japanese. The walk home had been tiresome, but Aimi was comforted by the fact that she was now at home, but that could be comfort and a burden. “Obaasan, where is father?”
Aimi’s grandmother, Satomi, looked down, her eyes weary but wise. “He’s at the bar.” Upon seeing her granddaughter’s expression, she pulled her close. Pushing away a strand of almond hair from Aimi’s unnaturally pale skin, she whispered somberly, “Don’t be so judgmental. Have some heart for him, he’s just going through a tough time right now. “ Aimi looked up at her grandmother’s face, behind all the wrinkles of age, she could peer into her eyes. Never hard, always warm and soft.
Aimi~
"Never Obaasan, but it's the right thing that I have to do. Knowing that I've caused him a deal of tough times to go through alone, and you are right, he is going through a tough time right now...all because of me, ever since I was born to exist in this world." Aimi whispered, the words merely a sound to hear. Tears started to form in her nearly dark, or nearly light eyes- and impassive sight to see; a wall that veiled anyone to look into her soul, solitarily.
"You are right, and you are wrong, my dear. Your father cares a graet deal about you Aimi, and that is where you are wrong." Aimi's grandmother peered into those puzzling, yet, beautiful light and dark eyes. "Oh, Aimi"
"You just don't understand, Obaasan. he hates me, hatred lingers in heart always. I know it...I can feel it. I should cease to exist; I just can't live a life freely knowing that I killed Mother, thats t-the worst! A murderer...how am I supposed to cope and live a happy life through this! I can't. Do you not understand, Obaasan?" Aimi diligently whispered on, sobs in between.
Aimi's grandmother calmly sat there, cathcing on every word. Her forehead creased into a thousand ancient wrinkles, "Aimi..." she sighed. "I do understand, but you did not kill your mother, dear. Don't ever call yourself a murderer. I know you, and you are innocent. You've not done anything wrong as of." She looked at Aimi and smiled, as if a thousand rays of golden sunlight have fallen onto her, showering her with an expressive amount of pleasure. "Aimi, did you know that you were born under the first fall of Sakura, the cherry blossoms- a meaning of peace and tranquility? Did you know that? The first thing , when you came into this world, did you know that you've been first touched by the beautiful blossoms of those trees. You." she pouinted her wrinkled index finger at Aimi, resting it on her heart, "are a meaning of love and peace."
Aimi looked transfixed at her grandmother and siently nodded, "I'm sorry Obaasan. I know that we've been thoughthis already, but..." She quickly wiped a stray tear away, catching it with the hem of her black sleeve, and continuously starred down at the glossy, wooden floors, her tears a puddle of silent regrets and grieved.
"no buts child," She softened her gave even more. "You will always know that I'm heere if you need something. I'l be waiting to help you, AImi. Ill always be there when you need me, you aren;t alone in the world.
"Thank you, Obaasan." Aimi quietly said, pulling her grandmother into an embrace. "I will always, for eternity, love you Obaasan...I've never regretted you snd never will I do."
My name is Morgan La Fey and I am fifty thousand years old. I utterly despise Merlin. I love eating small children and playing with my warts.