Thank you so so much for taking an iterest and coming to read the first chapter. I warn you I havent done anything like this before so it wont be very good...but I hope you enjoy it anyway. ^v^
Please feel free to comment, constructive criticism is more than welcome ^o^
Oooh..and if you havent already, you might want to read
The Guardian Vesuvius: Prolouge.
The Guardian Vesuvius: Chapter 1: The Pitiful Child
" I am hideous ".
The young boy stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped tightly round his waist, though he needn't seeing as no one else lived here. Despite this, Misaro would spend as little time as possible unclothed, anything was more pleasing to his eye than his own skin. He made his way over to his rickety bed as he dried himself. The single bedroom was dimly lit, only as bright as was absolutely neccesary. The small house was clean, but old, the walls were cracked, the roof leaked and there was nothing over the floorboards. It was the best he could afford
He sat on the bed for some time, staring and thinking. His train of thought slowly pulled his head into his hands. " I don't know why I do this.... Why I am still doing this? What's the point?" He shook his head, thinking out loud in a world weary, quiet voice. "This is hopeless… this is beyond hopeless. What was I ever thinking?"
With a labouring slowness he reached for his hair dryer. A very old one, of course. Misaro was unable to buy anything new; he barely had enough money to live on.
Closing his eyes he let the hot air blow across his face, as if trying to simulate a warm embrace. He let his mind wander and as he did, he began to recognise all these thoughts, same as last week, and the week before. He went through this routine every time, everytime saying there was no point and everytime ending up doing it again anyway. Misaro sighed, he knew it would never stop, after all this was all about...her.
"She hates me, well, she would do if she even noticed me." A weak giggle escaped him. "I guess that's one thing we would have in common".
Nobody was ever there to see him doing it, but the sight of Misaro getting ready to go out like he did every week was very telling of his self esteem. He would avoid every mirror in the house, he wouldn't care what clothes he wore, believing nothing he wore could make him even slightly more appealing, save for one, very special necklace. He covered up as much of himself as he could. He would even stay away from the windows, closing all the curtains to avoid his body being seen. Yet for all the pain this all caused him, and his less than comfortable financial situation, there was someone out there that made him go through it week after week.
Misaro came to the front door of his house and paused. It was never easy to leave through it, but as far as he was concerned, the worst of company was already with him. "Whatever. I might as well go now that I've started getting ready, I don't want to stay here alone anyway". Fidgeting into his coat and with a big sigh, Misaro left through the creaking door into the night. As always, his eyes immediately drifted to the stars. The night wasn't cloudless, but just a few stars in sight was enough for him.
"They are out tonight." Misaro gently put his hand over his necklace, a silver pendant with a beautiful female knight engraved on its surface hung from it. "Mother, if you can hear me, please give me courage". Even Misaro himself was unsure what exactly he wanted courage for. He had always wanted to be able to speak to Fayth, let alone have the courage to tell her how he had felt for her these past six years, but Misaro believed all too strongly that no heartspoken words or amount of boldness could change how repulsive he was. Maybe it was courage enough to not say the things he wanted to, courage enough to walk away from this, from her and never come back. In either case, courage was one of many things he lacked quite terribly. He knew it well enough. There was a part of him that didn't want to be there, just so he didn't have the opportunity to humiliate or disappoint himself again. Then again, if he didn't go, the rest of him would miss her more than he could bear.
The street that Misaro lived on was old too; his house wasn't the only one that was falling apart. The gardens were few and far between and even those were overgrown and unsightly. The pathways and pavements were in crscked and uneven and most of the streetlights were broken, it was a poor area of the city, though Misaro didn't mind; he could see the stars better with less light outside and Misaro would prefer waiting for a bus here, where noone else would be around. It was not that he enjoyed solitude, far from it, but he found it alot easier.
The bus ride that got him there was long, Misaro hated how reflective the windows of the buses were. It was impossible to tell when his stop was coming because he wouldn't look out the window. Misaro made himself go to the last stop and walk back, just to avoid that little glimpse of himself. His own image just made him so sick, not only for everything he saw, but for everything that person he saw was. He simply could not bear to see himself. As a result he had nearly no idea what lay between the two stops. He hadn't seen any of it. If he couldn't even face himself, he thought, what chance did he have at talking to Fayth? Regardless he made his way inside the same nightclub she went to each week "City-Light". It was dark, save for the coloured lights from the dance floor. Misaro would never go anywhere near the dance floor. He wouldn't drink either. He had thought about it so many times, wondering if perhaps it would be the only way he would ever say anything to Fayth. However he thought of himself drunk and the idea disgusted him, not that he could afford it anyway.
Settling for a smiple coke, he sat in a corner, the drink was merely to fit in a little more and occupy himself. Every few minutes he was looking around to see if he could spot her. If not he would look back down to avoid accidental eye contact with anyone. He felt so uncomfortable here amongst all these people. The worst times were those when drunk people would come and bother him, he had no idea how to deal with them. He had no idea how to deal with anyone really, but most people wouldn't talk to him anyway. He seemed to always drive others away. Misaro of course blamed his appearance. It was more than likely true but not in the same way that he believed.
Eventually he saw what he was waiting for. The moment he saw her he was entranced. In the six years he had known her, this feeling had only ever grown... he still looked upon her fondly, her mere visage would make everything that hurt him melt away. For these moments, he wasn't a hopeless, worthless child, he was at peace, he was in a dream. Every time he saw her, he would forget about trying to speak with her, he would let himself be happy with her presence alone, it was more than enough and much easier to experience.
She disappeared into the crowd and he came slowly back to reality. His smile faded away and he stared once again towards the ground. "Its useless. Maybe I can just admire rather than aspire tonight, like last week. That wasn't so bad," Misaro sighed and the amount of times he had said that in past weeks "I guess it's for the best... Maybe bieng a coward is only protecting me. I wish I could do the right thing and just get up, leave and never come back. But then what do I have? My life will be empty and I'll only end up missing her so much I'll come back anyway." It pained Misaro, he had long since realised the futility of everything he did yet he would not stop. This was the only way he could get through the week now, now that he was all alone.
Desperate for a reason to move and for another chance to see her, Misaro finished his drink and headed for the bar to get another. Turning the corner, half distracted by thought, he bashed into someone moving with some speed. Misaro would have been knocked right off his feet if Fayth hadn't grabbed him by his shoulders.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Her voice was gentle and humoured. Misaro realised who he had bumped into and he froze, unable to do anything. His heart raced out of control. He started shaking. Fayth started to get a little worried at the stranger she seemed to have scared half to death. "Umm...are you okay?" she asked. It was another few awkward seconds before Misaro finally spoke, but to him it seemed to drag on forever. Even then, he could only manage a few words "I... I... I... sorry." Misaro blushed and then quickly moved away. As he rushed to escape the embarrassment he tripped and fell. He knocked his leg badly but that didn't concern him, he just wanted to get away from this place, as far away as he could. He scrambled to his feet and literally ran out of the club, tears coming to his eyes. He didn't stop until he was well clear of people. So nobody was around to see him fall to his knees and cry into his hands. In his head, he was screaming at the top of his voice.
"That was horrible. It was like fate gave me an opportunity and I ruined it completely. I couldn't say a thing, not one word. I'm hopeless.... so stupid." Those last words ran through his head so much they seemed to force themselves through his lips.
"So stupid... so stupid..."
Misaro looked up, blinking as the rain fell onto his face. He hadn't noticed it was so cold and wet outside until just now, he was too consumed with anger at the fool he had just made of himself in front of Fayth. After some minutes he got to his feet. "The stars have gone… I guess I failed again, mother. Thank you for the rain." Misaro liked the rain at times like this. He could cry and no one would notice or bother him for it. He held tight onto his necklace. He was about to get on his way when he felt his dragging feet hit something on the ground. Looking down he noticed what looked like a book. He knelt down to look closer and could not believe what it was. He looked about to see if anyone was watching, then slowly, like he was handling a newborn child, he picked it up.
"No way, this...this is her... diary. I don't believe it, right here in the street and no one else has seen it." He gazed at the small pink book, turning it round and touching it as if to reassure himself it was really there. His mind started to piece together a fantastical tale of how this diary was destined to found by him, then he shook himself out of it. "Oh stop, Misaro! Stop before you honestly start to believe this to be some sort of sign. I should just give it back to her." Misaro turned to head back toward the club but then he stopped himself. "Wait... I can't face her now... not after that... and then just show up with her diary in my hand." He stood there a while, at a loss of what to do, just looking at the diary. A very guilty part of him wanted to keep it, using this scenario as an excuse to just keep it, but mostly it was the courage to face her that he lacked that made the decision for him. "I... I... just can't". He ran off with the diary held tight to his chest.
All through the journey home he could not take his eyes off the incredible find. To think that he of all people would come across it, and what a place to do so. It made no sense, but every time he started thinking something along the lines of fate or destiny the cold realist in him would yank him from those thoughts and remind him that this was little more than a coincidence and even worse, it was near enough theft.
"All my answers... they have to be in here. I could end all this if I just... No! I mustn't. I can't do that, it's not right. I can't. It's probably best that I don't." He closed his eyes and put the diary away into his pocket, and there it stayed until he got home. His mind was battering him was so many thoughts he decided it best to just leave it be and not risk making things much worse.
Walking from the bus stop back to his house he could not put the diary from his mind. It weighed next to nothing but its pull on his coat seemed to be made much heavier by his desire to see inside. Once home he took the diary from his pocket and stared at it, his fingers wandering slowly towards the edge of the cover to open it.
" NO! "
He opened a drawer and placed the diary inside, slamming it shut to reaffirm to himself that he was absolutely not allowed to look inside. Holding his head in his hands, he decided to call it a day. He let his weary self fall onto his bed and closed his eyes, but he was far too restless to sleep. How could he? The questions he had been asking for six years tormented him now more than ever, begging to be answered. After a while he angrily sat up and hit his fists against his knees in an attempt to force himself to stop, but he only started to cry as he became more and more powerless to stop. "I'm so sorry...so, so sorry. I'm the worst person in the world." Misaro slowly got out of bed. In his mind he wanted to stop, but he was weak and there was a power here that he had no chance of fighting. He needed to know what the light of his life felt.
Gently, as though he were moving a dangerous or sharp object, he took it from the drawer and laid it upon the desk, already sick with regret as he opened the diary and started to read. A few pages of the usual, nothing special, nothing that answered anything, just the daily grind. Every so often Misaro smiled or giggled at the little drawings and pictures or the things she wrote. He envisioned each day in his mind, becoming so lost in this window into her life that he forgot all about the terrible thing he was doing. Abruptly, the pictures stopped, and so did the usual pleasant feel to her entries, replaced by the development of something truly awful. Misaro gasped in shock. "This... this can't be... it can't be… no…" He began to flick through the pages franticly, becoming more upset as he went. He found the page where the entries ended to discover what he feared to be true "This is still going on? No... Why? No... NO!"
He closed the diary and collapsed onto the desk, crying. Something terrible was happening to Fayth that had upset him, so much so he couldn't even speak properly. Misaro felt so strongly for Fayth that he believed no wrong should ever come to her for the light she brought to the world. This, however, was the sort of thing nobody deserved, so it tore at Misaro deeply to learn that this was happening to her. "This can't be... I must… I… I… something… somebody, help her… please."
Who could help her? Even now Misaro already knew he wouldn't be able to do anything. He had no idea… once again he was at a loss at what to do. As was his usual reaction, he just cried and despaired. He hadn't read a line about himself. Completely outside of what he expected, it wasn't an answer to any of his questions that caused his tears, it was a new question, one that tore at him much, much more than any of his others.
Who could help her?
Thank you for reading *cuddles* if you like what you read, then read on ^o^
Chapter 2: An Unexpected Answer
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The Guardian Vesuvius: Prolouge
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