My name is Sakura, Sakura Mami I look forward to our friendship" With a grain of slutter in her words. " What are your names?
"My name is Tomozaki Kadoiya," With a bit of hesitation in my mind I answered it. In reality I am very shy and would prefer not talking to people because I am a sorry excuse for conversations. I would voice whatever that comes in my mind and moreover would mess up my words terribly. But I was able to talk to Sakura without any problems because I was irritated beyond the magnitude of my consciousness's style of talking. Usually when I am irritated, sad or too much happy, I can speak to people surprisingly profoundly.
Tomioka was as silent as ever, not even giving a penny's value to Sakura's words. Nevertheless, Sakura pressed on for Tomioka's name again and again. But that jerk was still silent. So instead of killing time by waiting for his words, I voiced his name.
"His name is Tomioka Takimi. We both read in the same middle school and are currently first second years in the same highschool" which I wish was a blatant lie.
"I see you guys are old friends-"
"Who told you we are old friends" both of us shouted at the exact same moment. As usual Tomioka couldn't stand a commoner like me barging into his 'royal' and 'elegant' speech. And so started spouting with that signature murderous look on his face:"Who on earth told you you can talk in the same time as me!?"
I can't understand in the slightest why would people be so obsessed with him and his lame childish vibe of a fabricated badass. If it was another person, I would have flushed down his words in the forget spot of my brain. But for some reason, I can't ignore his words and his cocky attitude. These words forced me to submit to my rage and I was just preparing myself to punch his cockiness out of him.
But Thank God Sakura was there to stop our fight or else I would have been badly beaten because I am a gfn(good for nothing) and physically nothing compared to him. Sakura immediately jumped in between us and exclaimed in a rush:" Now, now, it doesn't seem like you guys are good friends but please no fighting in front of me." and so Tomioka was getting ready to punch this commoner back to his senses but stopped immediately at Sakura's request.
The loud sound of the car passing by us brought us back to reality. We were already in the mouth of the crossroad. How fast time flies by, we were having an idle walk along the neighborhood and so quickly we reached the crossroad. The school is on the other side of the crossroad and the stream of student were visible from here.
"I have to go to the principal's office. See you guys later"
"See you again" I said.
Tomioka didn't waste a single moment with me. He gave a final atrocious look and went away without any further ado. And here I was alone again. But perhaps I enjoyed this loneliness more than i enjoyed the company of people.
I steadily plodded towards my monotonous and colourless classroom. As I plodded slowly and reluctantly towards that dungeon of all consuming darkness, I couldn't help but notice the empty entities surrounding me, pretending to be so content and colourful, but deep inside, they are emptier than a banker's heart. Whenever they lose their fragile purpose, laughing like a drain in front of their friends, they find themselves floating aimlessly in life. Then they get into depression, so desperate and famished for recognition, that they will commit the most detestable acts of evil which they don't commit due to the chains of social restraints.
I entered the classroom sliding past through the plastic sliding door that blended with the greyish pale white walls of the classroom. I searched the classroom and found my seat, which was as much empty as it was in the dawn. It was waiting eagerly for my arrival as it was the only person in the world which awaits my presence. I sat down and started my internal watch of wait. From the moment I got seated in this theater of stillness, I waited eagerly for the classes to come to an end.
I never discovered the reason of my inability to enjoy anything except the elegance of mother nature. I feel an emptiness capable of drying out ocean exists within my heart that refrains me from understanding the purpose of emotions, making me incapable of feeling emotions.
Throughout my whole life I was a boring individual who couldn't fit in this game called world. I used to be alone in the playgrounds, building sandcastles on my own; I used to be alone when everyone else would be engulfed in the joy of a friend's company in elementary school; I used to be alone all the time in all my innocent peripheral vision.
Alone and alone only, I found nature to be my only companion who would visit me daily with it's alluring cherry blossoms. Every time I was sitting in my lonely paradise, lamenting the cold embrace of sadness, the warm and comfortable breezes would
blow so perfectly to hug my broken fragments of emotion.
I had a glowing passion, and perhaps the only time when my heart wasn't withered, it was the passion of expressing every emotion suppressed in my heart through colours, shades and lines. I remember every moment of that light so vividly. I remember exactly how much weightless my soul felt, as if my whole world was a striking animation. I remember how delicately each of my muscle fibres of my face moved when I smiled for the first time.
But this twisted world couldn't accept my innocent, lonely but soothing smiles. It was a solemn rainy day. The water drops were plinking tenderly as I was speechless, looking at the beauty of the rain. The entire atmosphere was filled with a dark blue aura as coldness of the rain flew past me and the smell of wet soil came softly at my nostrils. My heart couldn't stand another moment to describe this immeasurable silent beauty. I immediately took up my pencil and started to run it through the monochrome page. In my eyes, the picture of a masterpiece drifted in front of my paper, and in my arm wrist were the sparkles of imagination. I picked my array of colours, and skidded the crayons up and down.
And the results? Nothing spectacular in appearance, it was a mess of blue and black, but it had the emotions that no one else in the world ever produced. With my chest full of pride and tingling pain of happiness, I went to my mom to show her what I have created from nothingness. And her swift reply was a slap in my right cheek because I spelled my name incorrectly.
Ever since that very bitter moment, I was afraid of painting through my whole life. My heart would tremble at the sight of crayons and colours, my soul would freeze from the name of painting and my eyesight wouldn't function whenever I am given a
paper to draw.
The sound of the ringing bell tapped in my world of thoughts and brought me back to present. It was the time for the first period.
Everyone sat down in their respective chairs just before the homeroom teacher made her entry. Right after taking her steps to the class, I could see two people standing behind her waiting to make their entry. I could see Sakura with her braided jet black hair standing still, but I couldn't see the face of the unknown person beside her. The teacher walked to her desk and right after greeting us, she said:" We have two new students joining us from today, Sakura and Himari, come forward"
And finally I got a glimpse of this new transfer student. And I was in head over heels love from the very first sight. I have seen roses redder than the blood of an arch demon that has fallen in love. I have seen crimson that is more crimson that the overstretching skies of hell. I have seen red redder than coral reefs that dwell in the unknown sea. But never have I seen a red so elegant like her crimson red hair that floated like strings of imagination aligned together to form a dream. Her walking style was so beautiful and composed, like a model. And as she stood giving her introduction, her voice felt so lonely but comfortable. I felt like I finally got to taste emotions of my painting after such a long time
(In future)
"Do you still remember the day when we first met?" I said softly. My heart was still pounding faster than the speed of a cheetah. My voice was unstable as my dreams were finally becoming a reality.
And she replied with her angelic voice:" Yes I remember how lonely and troubled you looked. I remember how it felt to see the painter inside you crying for it's freedom"