Category Archives: One-shots

One chapter stories for your amusement.

Projections

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AN: Flash fiction! I entered it for a contest last year but I think I didn’t win anything so I’ll just put this here. 

The moon was orange that night. It was impossibly huge—a sun on a dark canvas. Rain gently tapped against the window as Sylvia gazed at the harvest moon. She tiptoed back to her bed and tucked herself in, closing her eyes. Sleep came swiftly. She had been alone in her room but when she awoke, she was amongst friends.

Many believed Singapore didn’t have its own brand of superheroes, but she knew better. It only took a single night to prove them wrong.  Sylvia nodded at the four familiar faces around her—Hafiz, Wei Shan, Zach and Arya—before splitting up. Hafiz headed west, Wei Shan was northbound, Zach went south and Arya proceeded eastwards. Only Sylvia remained; calm and composed.

The dreamscape took on a deserted appearance of Orchard Road, although with different shades of grey. However, this time, an illuminating orange moon hung above the buildings, adding a touch of colour.

Then they came, cloaked within the shadows. Snarling, they crawled inhumanely with claw-like appendages, stretching and grasping, pulling themselves across the road towards her. Sylvia felt her fear spiking down her spine and her fingers tingled with cold sparks.

Nightmares took on a variety of forms—monstrosities with gaping jaws, Sadako with her infamous long hair, zombies… People’s imaginations were terrifying and intimidating nowadays. Yet a mere girl of fifteen blocked their way. The Nightmares sniffed and snorted at each other.

“Tasty dreams….easy prey…” they hissed.

Mysteriously, she wasn’t afraid. Rather, she radiated a strong aura of fear that made the Nightmares go frenzy with hunger. Shrieks of excitement rose as they charged towards her.

Still, the girl stood her ground, her right arm outstretched with her palm facing to her right. A long pink scar visibly travelled from her elbow to her wrist.

“It’s time to play,” she whispered.

A blast of wind suddenly burst from beneath her feet, throwing the Nightmares back, yelping in surprise. The air around her palm rippled like water and almost magically, a large feline leapt out, roaring triumphantly—transforming into a black whirlwind of teeth and claws amidst the Nightmares.

Sylvia had developed ailurophobia ever since a cat raked her arm when she was three, but now, she wasn’t at least a bit scared. Out of the corner of her eye, Sylvia caught a quick glimpse of lightning from the east. The others had begun as well.

The ability to materialise their fear, to mould their powers from their weaknesses, made them more powerful than Superman and Batman. Just imagine: using one’s own flaw against an enemy! Every human had their own unique phobias; but were they that strong enough to control them?

Projecting Fears on reflective surfaces was usually necessary for materialisation, but harvest moons made direct physical manifestation possible. Sylvia’s panther gracefully tore through the Nightmares, leaving not a single survivor behind.

Dying screeches of raw agony echoed across the dreamscape. No longer was the night ruled by the terrors, as the orange moon blazed victoriously in the sky.

This Simple Love Of Ours

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Author’s Note: Another attempt at writing romance. This oneshot is based on C~ute’s song “Bagel ni Ham and Cheese” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yTipQsBdpWY

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEANNE!!! Yeps, this is specially for Leanne (and because she needed cheering up) SO YEAH. This is my first guyxguy romance fic so I hope it’s okay… I don’t own the characters. (Ohmygod please don’t judge me ;____;) I apologise for being so late!! OTL

Leanne: OHMYGOSH HAPPY 17TH BIRTHDAY!!! HIHI YOU ARE 17 NOW UNTIL NEXT YEAR and because you’ll never be 17 AGAIN~ have a great day, and don’t worry about anything today! Enjoy your day; enjoy your life! We’ll see each other soon so HAVE AN AWESOME BIRTHDAY OKAY. Just don’t party too crazy. HAHAHAHA. Be happy alwayssss!
Lots of love, Paean:)

(i might actually edit this later)

This Simple Love Of Ours

Kodama yawned as his eyes fluttered open. He winced at the blinding morning light filtering through the window and tried to drag himself out of bed. He felt a heavy pressure on his chest, weighing him down on the bed. Grinning to himself, he turned to see Rutta lying face-down on the bed, his muscular arms spread-eagled and draped over Kodama’s chest.

“Rutta…” Kodama called, pushing Rutta’s arm aside. “Rutta, it’s morning already…”

Rutta just snorted and pulled the blanket over him. “‘ive ‘ore ‘inutes…” he slurred sleepily. Kodama could only sigh in response as he got to his feet and left the room. Despite being twenty-one, Rutta still behaved like a twelve year old.

But I guess, that’s why I fell in love with him in the first place, Kodama laughed softly to himself. He smiled as something brushed between his legs and mewled. He scooped Shimako, an orange and black-striped cat that Rutta adopted when they were still schooling at the dormitory.

The memory of Rutta bringing the cat back to their dorm room, thoroughly drenched from the downpour, was still clearly embedded in his mind. It was hilarious: who would have thought that Ruizaki Takao, the school’s notorious delinquent, would adopt a cat in the rain? It was so cliche that Kodama burst out laughing at the sight of it– the image of a punk boy adopting an abandoned kitten on a rainy day was a popular trope in Japanese manga.

After feeding the cat, he began to brew some tea and dug out their supply of bagels. Finally, he heard heavy footsteps tromping on the stairs, and he knew Rutta had woken up.

Sure enough, a sleepy Rutta came into view, blinking drowsily around him. He shot Kodama a lopsided grin. “Morning, Kodama.” A meow came from the ground. Rutta chuckled as he squatted next to Shimako and stroked his fur, making the cat purr in pleasure. “Morning to you too, Shimako!”

“Oi, Rutta!” Kodama said, as he tucked pieces of ham and cheese into a bagel. “Wash your hands! Breakfast is ready!”

“Okay, okay,” Rutta pouted teasingly, walking towards the kitchen sink and pecking Kodama on the cheek on the way. Kodama blushed.

OOO

Kodama watched as Rutta bit into the bagel. He looks so happy when he eats, Kodama smiled. How many times have they done this? Ever since their graduation and got their own house, their life had become rather simple and ordinary. In the morning, Kodama would wake Rutta up, settle breakfast and then, both of them would set off for work. Their life seemed so perfect.

He remembered the days when their relationship had to be kept a secret from everyone. Their freedom had been restricted to their dormitory room and it was stifling.

He remembered how afraid he was when their graduation approached. Would Rutta choose to stay with him, or leave to pursue his career as a gym teacher? Those days were riddled with nightmares where he would be left all alone in the darkness, left to fend for himself; and when he woke up, he would wonder if the nightmare would really come true.

Rutta changed it all. After Kodama had confessed his fear to him, Rutta had promised him that they would be together, no matter what. And that promise fueled Kodama’s determination to perform well in the examinations– attending career seminars and studying till late at night. When the graduation was finally over, the two of them had quickly found an apartment that was near their workplaces.

“-ma?”

Kodama snapped out of his reverie and reeled back when he realised Rutta was in his face. He shrieked and fell off his chair.

“Kodama!” Rutta was at his side at an instant. “Oi, are you okay?”

The raven-haired boy flushed, embarrassed, as he stood up. “I’m fine, Rutta,” he muttered. “Don’t be so worked up over it, sheesh.” Gosh, what was he anyway? Bella Swan? He wasn’t that fragile.

“You kinda zoned out there for a moment…but anyway, isn’t it already seven-fifty?”

OH MY GOD. Kodama sprang into panic mode. He zoomed into the room, tore off his blue-striped pyjamas, replacing it with a dark blue suit, tie and pants, and dashed back to the living room to grab his work-bag– all these while Rutta casually sipped his tea.

He needn’t go to the bank that early, but because the boss wanted to carry out a briefing regarding some promotion (which he didn’t really care about to be honest), he had to be at the place by eight-thirty. He wanted to stay longer; he wanted to enjoy the sight of Rutta’s happy face… but duty called.

“I’m leaving!” Kodama called out as he pulled on his shoes. He turned to leave, but he felt something moist on his lips…something familiar….and suddenly, the figure of Rutta appeared in front of him and kissed him on the lips. He blushed.

Rutta pulled back. “Enjoy your day,” he said softly.

Kodama nodded, smiling.  “See you when I get back.”

As he ran onto the streets, past the familiar shops and houses, he couldn’t help but feel so… light. That simple gesture had moved his heart so much; he just felt so happy. It was like… it was like… No, that feeling of happiness was indescribable.

He was just so happy.

—-

“Damn.”

Rutta stood at the door, his fists clenched in frustration. He put his hand into his pocket and fingered the box that impatiently waited to be given– and not tucked away.

He actually wanted to give it to Kodama when he woke up, but drowsiness claimed him first. He face-palmed himself. Why am I such an idiot?! 

Then again, Kodama had rushed out for work, and he sighed again. Both of them were just so busy with work lately; they couldn’t even have time together. Oh well, that’s just the way it is.

Speaking of work… He glanced at the clock. It was almost time for him to set off too. He heaved another heavy sigh and got dressed promptly. “I’m off,” he quietly whispered to nobody in particular.

OOO

“So did you give it to him?”

He knew it. Darn, why was his colleague so nosy?? Haruto sat across him in the staff room, marking scripts, and didn’t bother to look up. “You didn’t, did you?”

Was he psychic or something? “I forgot,” Rutta mumbled sheepishly. “I got caught up.”

“With what?” Images of Kodama glancing at him dreamily instinctively fluttered through his mind and he had to hastily change the subject.

“What’s it to you anyway?” Rutta narrowed his eyes. “You’re not the one in a relationship.”

“Ah well, I can’t help but be curious,” Haruto shrugged. “Health Education teacher, remember? I’m very inquisitive about certain romantic issues.” Rutta wanted to punch him, as the bell chimed three times. Haruto stood up. “Gotta go for class. Update me later.”

Rutta groaned as he lay back in his chair. This was so utterly pointless. Gym ended like two hours ago, and now he was stuck with nothing to do for three more hours. Maybe he should reconsider being a gym teacher, then maybe they’d have more time for each other…but Kodama had his job.

If only they could have a break from work together, Rutta would actually have liked to go on a vacation to somewhere romantic like Maldives and France. Yeah, France would be good. Renowned as the “City of Love” and a well-known food paradise, they would enjoy the scenery and the refreshing atmosphere. Oh, and probably eat at different places and try out the various dishes.

If only….

His hand once again fingered the mysterious box in his pocket that he had unconsciously transferred over from his pyjamas.

It nestled there…waiting.

It was late at night when Kodama finally got back home, probably around 11 or something. His mind was riddled with numbers and dollars and cents that he all he really wanted was to just snuggle into the bed and sleep. Thank goodness it was Friday and he could sleep in tomorrow.

He was so tired, he almost missed Rutta, who was on the couch, snoring lightly away. Oh, isn’t he adorable? He grinned as he shook him awake. “Rutta, I’m home,” he whispered.

Rutta slowly awakened, his eyelids drooping slightly, and when he realised it was Kodama, his eyes sprang wide open immediately.

“Kodama!” He fumbled blearily about. “I was just about to call you…but I guess I slept. I need to tell you something… uh, hold on.”

Kodama only caught on to some of his words. “How about tomorrow?” he yawned. “I really just want to sleep right now.”

“No, wait, you don’t understand-“

“Rutta-” He heard his boyfriend cursing behind him until he heard a “FINALLY!” and he turned. Rutta was holding a box..towards him?

“Kodama, don’t you remember what day it is?” Rutta smiled as he held Kodama’s hand. Day? What day? He was confused, but Rutta didn’t answer. Instead he kneeled on the ground.

Oh my god no.

“Kodama-” He opened the small velvet black box.

“-two years and three months ago, we met on this very day..” A ring. It was a ring. Kodama’s breath hitched.

“…I know sometimes we cry, sometimes we fight and sometimes we misunderstand each other…” Rutta’s voice echoed in his head. “But these are all because of love.”

“Let’s trust each other forever. Be honest, and talk to each other, and even if there are secrets between us, I swear I won’t be suspicious. Because, however old we may be, we will alwaysalways, be together in our hearts, minds and spirit.”

“I love you, Kodama. And I swear to love you every single day,” Rutta’s face suddenly started to blur, but he couldn’t miss the final words. Rutta took a deep, courageous breath.

“Marry me.”

There wasn’t a need for an answer, as the night started to bloom in passion.

Exploration: Nike

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 Author’s Note: This was my first draft for my Commonwealth Essay. I’m rewriting it now as it totally strayed out of point, focusing on the opportunity rather than the enterprise. This is my first time writing science-fiction and it’s been quite a thrill to do so. If you look closely, there is quite a number of references to Star Wars.

   To boldly go where no man had ever gone before was never an option to his father.

A man in his mid-fifties, David Heaken was a person not to be reckoned with. His eyes were as sharp as knives, sending glares that could kill someone on the spot. A boxer in his youth, his arms were tough and thick as a buffalos’ hide that could probably deflect bullets. He took off his boxing gloves ever since his son was born and got a job at the most unlikely place—the police station. Known as “The Bull”, fearsome criminal syndicates trembled at the mere mention of his name.

His son, however, was a different case altogether.

Trent Heaken had neatly cropped dark brown hair and sparkling storm blue eyes that seemed to draw people’s attention to him in a crowd. His mouth was frequently upturned into a smile; he was a pleasant boy to be around. Everyone who knew him always commented that he was a splitting image of his mother, who had passed away from an incurable disease when he was only five.

His mother had been, and always would be, his greatest source of inspiration. She was the woman who had always encouraged him to express his creativity and to never be afraid when things did not go the way he planned. To him, the lovely woman that had sat by his side and told him the incredible stories of Greek and Roman mythology was his goddess.

Since young, he had always loved to explore. Trent would pretend to be the fearless adventurer, Indiana Jones, and draw out his long whip to save his mother, the “damsel-in-distress”.  His father was not particularly amused, as Trent’s regular practice of the whip broke several expensive vases.

He had not understood much when his mother was diagnosed, nor did he understand that day when his mother started to whisper to him. She had seemed so weak that she gasped in between her sentences. “Tre…nt…e…strong…my…little…ad…ven…turer… re…mem…ber…” It was the last thing she said to him.

He had not fully understood the meaning of death. He always thought his mother had flown somewhere “really far away” as that was what the kind nurse had told him afterwards. He did not understand the sympathetic glances he received from teachers and adults, until he had approached his father.

“Dad, where’s Mum?”

There was no answer at first. Then, “Why?”

“Everyone behaves strangely around me when I talk about her. Mum is in another country right? When will she be back?”

“Soon.” It was a simple yet half-hearted answer.

“But I miss her! She’s been gone too long and—”

“Trent—”

“—I want her with me now!”

It had been the last straw. His father slammed his fists onto the table, making him jump. Trent! Your mother is dead! Do you understand? She’s never coming back, so stop bothering me!”

Stunned, reality finally drove a knife into his little innocent heart. His mother was dead, and she would never read him his favourite heroes or play his “damsel-in-distress” anymore.

And then he wailed.

~*~

He stopped his adventures then. No more fantasising about going off to a hidden, unexplored jungle and hunt for lost treasure; the only thing that mattered was just drowning in books all day. He never knew what he wanted to be, even though he was an all-rounder. Some teachers persuaded him to take medical science, but it was not for him. He did not like sitting in offices and talking to people. After much pondering, he realised, he had never grown out of his adventurous spirit. What he really wanted to do was to explore the unknown.

He was eighteen when the opportunity came.  The posters around the town seemed to roar out at him: “Black Hole Exploration Confirmed! Aspiring Young Astronauts Wanted!” Scientists had managed to develop a new engine that everyone had long deemed only possible in science-fiction movies. The new space shuttle—or starship, as they called it—was able to explore further regions of the galaxy by using the most unbelievable method: through black holes.

It was common knowledge that black holes sucked up anything and everything, but until today, no one knew what was at the end. It had been proven by accident that black holes could actually act as portals to the other galaxies, because of an astronaut who hurled a tracking device into one after experiencing a bad day.

After much experimenting and tinkering, the starship was born, constructed of strong metal that could withstand the gravitational pressure of the black holes. And now, the missing ingredient was a team of astronauts. There was some debate and careful deliberation about the team. They had to be young and very fit so they could tolerate the high spatial pressure of teleporting. The age requirement, eighteen to twenty-five, was announced at a recent conference.

Trent knew it was the adventure for him. That night, he waited for his father to return and broke the news to him over dinner. But David’s reaction was far from his expectations.

“No.”

“But, Dad—”

“Do you take me for a fool? Do you have any idea how dangerous those missions are? Why, haven’t you heard about those astronauts who died the moment they got on the spacecraft?” David thundered. The tension electrified between the two of them that evening.

Trent had already resolved to go, regardless of his father’s consent. But he had not been seeking consent, but rather, his father’s approval. Determination ruled his mind, and he turned up for the selection tests and interviews for the mission.

He was thrilled when he was one of the five candidates chosen out of the four thousand hopefuls. He clutched the letter tightly to his chest, the feeling of success jumping in his heart, as if it was his own treasure.  The joy sapped almost immediately as he remembered he had to obtain his father’s signature. He gritted his teeth in frustration. He would never approve! If only his mother were around…

And then his mother’s last words echoed in his mind, “Trent, be strong, my little adventurer. Remember.

And Trent found himself facing his father, his hands clenched but sweaty, as he said simply, “I’m not changing my mind, Dad, no matter what you say.” He sucked in a breath, and with it, he found renewed courage. “So please, sign the form.” He pushed forward the document, nervously waiting.

David shifted his eyes from the newspaper he was reading to his son. The headlines screamed out at him: “Black Hole Starship To Be Launched! The World Awaits!” There was a crisp rustle as he closed it and set it down on the table. He stood up, and glared hard into those intense blue eyes. He faltered a little; Trent’s eyes had always reminded him of his wife.

His beautiful wife, the woman he loved. He closed his eyes, and saw her smiling in his mind.

Come on, David! What are you so afraid of?

David knew what he had to do. Without another moment, he drew out his pen and uncapped it.

~*~

“Launching black hole generator in ten seconds…” The crackle came over the radio.

The starship had stopped, floating in orbit, and all five of them were strapped in tightly. The team consisted of Paul Milton, captain, Bridgette Randall, co-captain, Leia Hamill, Falkner Vale and finally, Trent Heaken, the youngest. The team had bonded over the training sessions and simulations, and to Trent, they were like an extended family.

“Seven…” It still came to him as a shock, that his father gave his approval. The moment where his father had signed the paper was playing in his mind repeatedly, and he would never be able to get over it. But the most surprising of them all, was when David had turned up for the send-off, and kissed him on the forehead. That was considered a “Good luck” and a hug rolled into one.

“Five…” And then, there was the problem of naming their starship. Everyone wanted it to be slick, cool and most of all, meaningful. It had been a day before the starship team conference when they were all pressured into thinking about it. There was the “Apollo 20”, which everyone instantly struck off, followed by “Millennium Falcon”, but the one that struck something in Trent was “Andromeda”.

“Three…” It was then he suggested something. He told them of a story, of a boy who wanted to be an adventurer and had a goddess for a mother. He always thought of his mother of a person who had always brought him victory in his adventures, and so he called his mother the “Goddess of Victory”…

“Two…” Everyone approved of the name he said.

“One! Opening the black hole!” Paul shouted. The starship shot a beam of ray at the empty space in front of them, and a huge gaping hole started to swallow them.

Nike, exploration successful.

Three-Leaf Clover

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Author’s Note: This particular one-shot is a combination of two songs- Friendship Birthday and Kurobaa (Clover). As you probably know, Friendship Birthday is sung by Sea*A. You might be wondering why I’m doing it again- well, it’s because at that point of time when the Imera-Selina fic was published, it was a preview. So this is the other half of the song. Plus, Clover is by The Sketchbook, a band created from the anime Sket Dance. You should watch it, it’s really funny, sad and touching at the same time.

Can I dedicate this to Princess Shell Yue and her inseparable twin Xin Yi? This is to thank them for being my study buddies! (:

This is in Selina’s POV haha~

Three-Leaf Clover

Ever since my parents died in the flames and got dumped in an orphanage, I knew I had to run away.

I had nothing much to take with me- almost everything I used to have were forcibly taken away. All I needed to bring along with me was food and water, nothing else. This journey I wanted to take, this journey I wanted to make, was to find something…

Something in this world that might give me something to live for….

Something that could change me.

When I was a child, I had searched for it. That mysterious tugging in my heart that was drawing me to somewhere…towards a thing.

But however frantic I was, I couldn’t find it. 

I was a child, back then. I had certain restrictions, certain impossibilities. Maybe on this journey, I might be able to find that one thing I had been missing all this while… Yet, I might not. 

Should I just move on?
Should I just wait and stay?
And find a family that could restore love and warmth within me?

Should I give up?

I hit the dirt road in the lazy hours of dawn. I had snuck out of the building and made my way down the path that widened into a huge road. It was dangerous for a girl of twelve to be roaming such areas alone, but I didn’t know at that time.

I was a clumsy person. Only a few miles down the road and I had already tripped on a rock, scraped my knees and dropped my supplies. Not to mention about the burning heat in the area.

It was only then that a realisation dawned upon me- the one thing I needed to find.

Luck.

It seemed ridiculous, almost pointless. Luck wasn’t something that could be obtained: it was fickle and it’s almost rare, like a miracle. Wait, luck is not a miracle. It is miracle personified.

Maybe the sign of luckiness will bring me happiness.

And to find luck…

…well…

I had to find a clover.

I remembered that spreading eternal color in my little eyes. The grass was plentiful with clovers, and every clover looked like each other.

I remember my mother saying how four-leaf clovers could be luck, because they were so rare. 

But sometimes I softly piled up the three-leaf clovers. I would pluck them gently, and stack them up. I was pretty sane then. 

Yet I cannot remember.

Because there was a reason why I couldn’t let them go.

Every single day is an ordinary day in life. It’s so ordinary, so boring…so unexciting.

I was an adventurous kid who longed for thrills in life. But yet, I understood, that beneath all of the simplicity, there was a hidden beauty in every emotion felt during that one ordinary day.

Every day told a different story, filled with different feelings and life lessons. That’s the beauty: it could only be experienced once in a lifetime- no today is the same as yesterday.

I remember reaching Port after a while. Port, the bustling town full of rich and arrogant people. The moment I saw how selfishly they behaved, I disliked them immediately. Although my family was rich, we believed in charity. My father had made donating a habit, something done almost every day.

The people in Port had cast aside the poor, like as if they ceased to exist. I felt my eyes open to the harsh reality of this cruel world. When you are poor, you are nobody. And everyone will treat you like dirt, even if you were rich before. I knew exactly how the poor were feeling: it happened to me too.

It was then I decided to remain in Port to help out the poor souls. But the selfishness in Port had rubbed off on the poor. It was every woman, man and child for themselves. I closed my eyes, as I prepared to leave the place.

And then, I found her.

Imera.

It came rushing back to me. I remember the park near my family’s mansion, where every kid went to have fun. They had been looking for four-leaf clovers as well.

But as I stood and watched, I realised that they had been ignoring the three-leaf clovers. The forgotten clovers, the ones that everybody didn’t care about and treated like as if they were ghosts, were stomped on. I remember tears springing to my eyes when I saw the horror of it all.

The clovers all harshly trampled upon in the children’s search for a rare four-leaf clover. I imagined their pain, their torture, their cries of agony under the brute and childish strength. 

Was it really that important that others had to die just for the sake of one single thing?

When the sun finally went down, the children left the park and I shook as I went over to the clovers. To my surprise, they were still intact. I couldn’t believe my eyes. 

They were crumpled, but they were still standing upright. A breeze swept through the field and I heard whispers, as if they were telling me…

…They were telling me that even if I am feeling down, I shouldn’t worry about it…and smile, instead.

I took you away from the hideous Port. You were young, you could still be saved from the world of selfishness. I remember we cloaked ourselves in the shadows of the night and we ran forwards. We embarked on the journey together, to find the new beginning of a new day.

It was only then that I realised I never had friends. I had always been alone with no siblings to play with. But when you came along…I could see it when I closed my eyes.

Every smile you smiled at me was so clear, so vivid. You were the light that burned in my heart, guiding me through the lonely night.  And I will hold you tight, I would never let you go. So don’t be afraid and fear no more, because I am with you now.

It was a year later when we arrived at the cliffs by the ocean. And I remember how we ran endlessly. I believed thatour future lied ahead, further than I had anticipated. We had settled down in several towns, but we were chased out after a few months after they found out we were the rats that had escaped from Port.

I remembered telling you that the journey seemed endless. We were losing hope, but regardless, we must continue to soar. We could dream a dream and wish fervently together, picturing that future we wanted– because it was easier if we did it together.

We cry, smile, get mad, blush.  

But these busy three leaves are always in the same place. Even if we’re pointed towards different places, our roots are the same.

Because we are connected.

I suspected it for a while, ever since I brought you along.

That you were the thing I had looked around the world for. I had found the only- my one and only- precious treasure. Now that I had gotten you, I’ve learned to believe in us. I finally believed in the power of our friendship and the strength of staying together forever.

I remember feeling a quiet touch, a miracle that I had been trying to find from my heart. And I knew it was you, Imera.

You were that three-leaf clover I was trying to find, the only one of its kind; unique.

Because it’s the one only I was looking for, your three leaves swaying in the wind. 

It’s swaying in the wind and smiling.

I wish that your leaves will last forever, and even if the seasons change, I know that with your leaves, you will kick away all the sadness that we have not experienced yet. 

I believe, Imera, in you.

My very own three-leaf clover.

Colours of the Heart

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Author’s Note: Some weird one-shot.

Colours of the Heart (performed by Uverworld)

I am a painter.

Every human is a painter- the young and the old, the strong and the weak, and the optimist and the pessimist. Different people paint different colours. Their auras, you say. You’re not wrong.

Aura represents the person. Aura is the person. It’s kind of like your soul, only dyed in varied colours, depending on your nature, character and personality. Like I say, it varies from person to person.

We hear about aura when we are younger, when fantasies were part of our world. We grow fascinated, desperation mixed with curiosity as we try to figure out our own auras. The problem about auras is this- they are naked to the human eye. Some say only psychics are gifted with the ability to do so. Some say there are special people with natural gifted insight.

But I say, that if you look hard enough, you just might see it.

As I mentioned, I am a painter. My works are quite well-known in the area for its vibrancy and energy, although I have to admit it was not so.

Sometimes, to reach glory, you must reach your breaking point first.

That day, I remembered my heart collapsing without making a sound. It just seemed to fall endlessly in some bottomless pit. Even if I scream as I break, these unerasable memories and this darkness will flow into my eyes. It’s a constant torture as I still can’t see these colors. It’s because of  you that I will feel depressed tomorrow.

I still remember that hard look on your face, that very look I always hated. Your eyes were blue with cold and your jaw was set firmly. Your words were sharp, a direct force sent whistling into my chest.

“It’s over. I’m sorry.”

The most ironic thing? You didn’t seem sorry. You looked angry that I could not spend time with you. You were frustrated with the fact I was working with other guys. I warned you many times over and over again. It looks like your jealously has gotten the better of you. And here I was, thinking foolishly that you were reasonable and strong-willed.

You left me so abruptly and I was left speechlessly stunned. You left me, hanging. And the question I kept pondering repeatedly was the simple but deep word. Why?

I remember chasing after you. Calling after you, like some lost puppy. I had searched endlessly and frantically, trying to patch up our relationship whatever way I could. I tried to find a day, where we could finally understand and make up, where we could love each other again.

But it was too painful as I watched myself get pushed away by you. Your strong arms that used to be the castle that protected me from the rain, now became the fortress. The wall I could never get past.

And the only thing I could do back then, was to bear the pain, hold on and move on. I kept living so I could lose those painful memories. But yet, it was impossible for me to continue living alone, even as I willingly embrace the solitude. Yet I was always hoping, grasping that delicate thread of hope, that you would turn around, and become the lighthouse I needed.

If you had switched on the lights, I would shine towards it. No matter the hurt you caused, I would always go back to you, forgiving and full of undivided love. 

You told the person persistently holding on to those feelings of love for you: “These feelings we keep wishing for will one day change color.” So that was it, wasn’t it? We used to talk about happy colours, colours that brightened up moods with their vibrant optimism. And yet, you were able to turn it into a double-edged sword.

It wasn’t fair. Colours were my gift. They were my friends. And you turned them against me too.

One more time…just one more time…

I locked myself in my workplace. Losing things wasn’t new, but losing someone precious, someone I had faithfully followed and loved, was totally fresh and new. You slipped through my  fingers like sand.  Before my tears finally dried, I wondered if the words I desperately wanted to hear would save me. After all, a rip in my heart was hard to paint over.

It was ultimately, all up to you. My fate was now in your hands. You were going to make a choice: to leave me or save me.

I closed my eyes. Hoping fervently. You never did came, though.

—-

“If this light becomes bright, the darkness will become deep too.”

I had slowly begun to awaken with realisation. Just about everything was in the bottom of my heart- locked in a tiny chest and squished into the deepest part of my mind; away from sight and mind.

All I had seen was darkness. Absolute darkness. But it was not cold- or rather, it was comforting. A blanket of absolute darkness enveloped me. My life was nothing but black.

My brush sweeps across the canvas….inked strokes of darkness….

Maybe, if I opened my eyes, I might be able to once again see these colors that were born. The colours that I used to love. The colours we used to share.

The colours that symbolised the passion we used to have.

The breath of sadness; that is what makes these colors we’ve searched for run without raising a sound. A gentle breath, across the canvas, swishing a melancholy tune.

One more time…once more…

Yin and Yang.

Fire and Water.

I never truly realised what I was drawing.

I always did assume I was just drawing.

Colours in light and darkness….

And take it in…

A dip of a paintbrush…

The strokes on the paper…

The intake of a delicate breath…

Colours in light and darkness….

Red and brown.

Blue and green.

Yellow and orange.

Pink and red.

Now, with these hands….

I feel it once more.

The fingertips of light raining once more…

Upon my head the shower of renewed energy….

The memories flow by.
Sitting under the swaying cherry blossoms; petals that bloomed with charm flitted above us.
The autumn wind brings the crisp of maple; the rustle of leaves leaving their branches.
Wet, cold and frozen crystals pelt gently, snowflakes cascading ever so gracefully, dancing around us.
Bright and warm, rays of the heavens shine upon us; the summer heat bathing us in its warmth.

I will once again paint all of these unreachable, kind colors.

 

The Tricked Pierrot

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Author’s Note: Well, what can I say? I’m in love with Shounen T’s version. The guitar is so magical, seriously, you got to listen to it. It’s infectious.

The Tricked Pierrot

Betrayal is a rusty sword.

A single thrust could lodge it in your heart for life, and even if it gets drawn out or heal, there are still remnants that burn with every aching memory. The pain is always there; a lingering wound.

I was just, simply, a girl lost in love.

Everyone whispers around me.

Everyone gossips about me.

Everybody avoids me.

Nobody cared about the geeky kid with huge spectacles whom the teachers adored. There was nothing they wanted from me. And there was nothing I could give them.

Loneliness knew me by name. It found me, and it would never give me up. I wished, somehow, I could rip off its chains, chuck it away, and find friends that I could hang out with, peers I could count on. But yet, here I was once again, timid outcasted me.

I think my luck changed a bit when I presented my Science project to the class. I earned a bit of admiration, but that was all. After that, everyone treated me the same way they did every day before. Like a shadow, a ghost, that can never be seen.

Invisible.

Then he came.

It was pretty unexpected actually. A crumpled paper ended up on my table and I paused slightly as I unfolded it.

Dearest, it began. And then went on with scrawly handwriting with really weird, but funny, pick-up lines. I giggled a bit, blushing. I looked around and I saw one of my classmate signal with his hands: Outside. Next door.

I raised an eyebrow and left the class. And I saw you. Tall with broad shoulders and black hair, you stood in front of your class 3-C. I blushed furiously. Did you know? You were my childhood crush until I realised I probably was not going to be the ‘girl’ you had been waiting for. I gave up back then, but the letter you gave me ignited the sparks again.

You gave me a small smile slowly, and passed me another letter before you vanished into your class. I read that same scrawly handwriting:

Meet me at Sakura hill after school. -Yuuma” 

I smiled. It was a perfect place, lush greenery and beautiful flora. From the top of the hill, we could have the bird’s eye view of our town. A private place and a scenic landscape.

It was a date, was it not?

But yet, I was there all alone. I waited there, watching crowds of people walk below as I sat stupidly on the grass. As time ticked on, I waited for you to show yourself.

It might have been a small little date, but it was my first. 

Picnickers chatted happily below me as clouds floated past gently. So ever slowly, so ever gracefully. I was still on the grass, my palms swirling around restlessly.

A really simple formula, the first that I did not understand at all. The ticking of the clock is rushing like my heart is going to stop. I have attempted to  really, truly comprehend, but I just could not. Did you imagine how I would feel? To think that in your eyes, you really see me as a clown to just be made fun of. How cruel could you be?

It was only an hour later that thoughts began spinning in my head. That you were not planning to show up. That you had just asked me out for fun. Because I was just the geek kid that no one wanted to go out with. No one wanted to love me. My jaw clenched in fury. I was so foolish, foolish, to believe your words. Your written words.

I got up, and left. It was as if I was the Earth, spinning slowly on my axis. I was an empty, thoughtless sphere, numb with disbelief that I could have fallen for such a cheap trick. It was just a mere second when I felt like I was going to lose a step, and I stopped. I stood, rooted to the spot, without a sound. But crystals still fell from my eyes, regardless.

I didn’t mean for this to be a bit of luck and suddenly I came to find that all this time, I didn’t need to see the light.
Your hand had been reaching out for me, your warming touch was all that I needed. And just a little smile would make it all worthwhile. And yet, they caused a little tear in my heart.

I took off my spectacles and threw them onto the ground. I will change. I will make you regret your actions. I lifted my feet and crushed it, frame and glass. I had vowed to wait patiently, to spare you a few more minutes. But I knew. Those minutes would turn into days.

I still remembered that you were laughing in class with all your friends, telling them how you abandoned me on the hill. I was standing at the door and every word had reached my ears. I glared at your back, and the friends in front of you immediately froze up and shifted away. You turned and saw me.

I walked up to you, calm and composed. My eyes were no longer hidden by the spectacles, the fury all clearly reflected. It was too quick to register. All I knew that there was a blur of a hand and you recoiled, a red imprint so deeply stamped onto your cheek. My hand stung a little.

The loud crack of the slap shook your class. They gawked silently.

“How dare you treat me like your personal amusement,” I said coldly. “How dare you treat me as a joke! I am a person, a being with feelings. Your selfishness has clouded you and I hope that one day, someone will make you see through it. If you ever try to cross me again, you will regret it.”

On that last note, I stormed out from the awkward silence.

Yes, I’m the clown. I’m the joke you’ve always known me as. But no longer. I will be the clown of my own life. I will make my choices.

I will be your pierrot no longer. 

We Are Believix

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Author’s Note: So….HAS ANYONE STARTED WATCHING WINX CLUB SEASON 5?! I have, and it is so beautiful and meaningful! Yeah, I know you guys are probably thinking that Winx Club is a really lame show, but seriously, that shows you haven’t been watching it really in-depth. Go on, watch the new episodes- once you discover that hidden treasure the show has been trying to tell girls worldwide, then you will understand.

I’ll talk to you later on (:

——-

We Are Believix! (based on the song of the same name by Elizabeth Gilles)

You could never imagine the power of believing  in someone.

You might not know it, but believing can be quite powerful, with the strength and dedication it possessed. Believing comes in many different forms, and most of them can be actually seen in our daily lives.

People worshipped gods since the beginning of time and until now. The influence and its followers can make a huge impact on the world. Ancient gods are still widely respected and highly regarded, and their tales come alive in books that spoke of myth and magic.

Don’t you believe in your idols? That they will go on forward with your support? That they will never give up? That is a strong sort of believing too, because without your support and admiration, would your idols be here so famous that with the single mention of their name, people will immediately know who you are referring to?

In society, you believe in your friends, your family and yourself. Your friends and family believe in you. It gives you that boost of confidence, that urge to press onwards, that feeling to reach your goals no matter what it is. It gives you strength to do what you want to do, to catch your dreams and shoot for your destiny. It gives you a fate to fight; something to live for; the reason for your existence.

And that is just by believing.

—-

The Winx experienced it first-hand: believing in its pure form. All six members could clearly recall that bubbling feeling within their hearts , the pounding in their heads and the excitement boiling in their blood. Back then, they were fighting the Dark Circle, four Fairy Hunters that thirsted for the power the last Earth Fairy held. The Winx, in their Enchantix, could not affect them because of their resistance to such magical power.

They had been trying to protect Roxy, the last Earth Fairy, from falling into their hands….but they had been too weak. What damage could they inflict when their powers were ineffective? They had almost given up- they had failed Roxy, the Earth, Faragonda…

“Winx, no!” Roxy had cried out, in the clutches of the Dark Circle. She tried to jerk her shoulders out of their hands. “I believe in you!!”

And that was when the miracle happened. The sky thundered as dark clouds loomed over the city. Flashes of sparkling lightning, no, magic, lit up the clouds, blinding the four hunters.

“Can you feel it?” Bloom had whispered.

“Yes, I hear it too….it is calling….” Flora murmured.

Before they knew it, they were enveloped in bright lights.

—-

We learn history so that we will never repeat it. But you know how it goes: History always repeats itself.

Especially when the Trix were around. This time, they were after the Lilo, a plant full of powerful magic. If it fell into the wrong hands…well, you know it. Long story cut short: the Winx were going to put a stop to it.

They had captured a girl, Macy, who somehow had it in her possession. The girl was terribly frightened, and you didn’t even need to see it to believe it. After all, a human in the clutches of three notorious witches didn’t really stand much of a chance.

The battle ensued in the Gardenia’s Community Park. They were evenly matched, with the Winx in their Believix and the Trix with their new spells. It was impossible to tell who was winning. Even the spectators were caught in the anxiety.

When the fragile Lilo crashed onto the ground, both parties were stunned, but the Trix recovered first. As soon as the flower started to bloom, they dove into the beam that shot out of the plant.

Bloom almost screamed, but Flora beat her to it. After all, she was the Guardian Fairy of Nature: she could feel the pure energy flowing into the evil trio, turning dark with every pulsating second. “NO!”

“Yes!” Icy shouted in glee. “Sisters, feel the power flowing through us! We will be unstoppable!”

Not on my watch, Bloom thought angrily, as heat burst within her palms. She threw it towards the Trix, blasting them out of the energy beam. But her magic did not make them falter an inch.

“You’re weak now, Bloom!” Darcy taunted. “The Winx don’t stand against us!”

“That’s not true!” Stella yelled. “We still have hope! Hope that we can defeat you!” For once, the Winx agreed with Stella and was quite amazed with her words. When did the vain fashion queen Stella get replaced by a determined one?

“As long there is hope, there is a way.” Musa flew up behind her, giving Stella the moral support she needed.

“Hope? We have something better than that!” Stormy glared. “With this new strength, we will destroy every hope you have left in you, and crush it together with your precious Gardenia!”

“No! We won’t let you!” Tecna quickly blasted a jolt of electricity, which was deflected by Stormy with just a flick of her palm.

“We are stronger than before,” Icy said dangerously. At her cue, the three witches combined their power and launched it at the Winx, knocking them out of the sky and onto the ground. Icy was right: they were so strong. Ice, darkness and storm with a little boost of Lilo was definitely a force not to be trifled with. A head-on attack would be futile.

Was this the end? All those hard work…for nothing? Bloom stared helplessly as the witches cackled at their victory.

“I believe in the Winx.”

Bloom’s head turned. That voice…her adoptive mother…Vanessa! Like some angel, the recognisable brunette emerged from the crowd. Her eyes were fierce, like a mother bear protecting her cubs. Bloom almost cried.

“Me too.”

“I believe in them!”

“Don’t give up!”

The Winx felt a strange energy coming from the auras the spectators were now giving off. The energy was so pure, it almost seemed that the people were the Lilo themselves. Unanimously, the Winx rose, their wings suddenly full of spirit. Bloom could feel it, the energy flowing into them, boosting them.

You turn our sparkle on — your power makes us strong…

With that new power, the Winx girls did a convergence spell: nature, technology, water, music, light and fire combined into a huge sphere of magic. Their hands grabbed each other as they sent their most powerful attack towards the Trix. With a literal bang, the three witches flew out of the park upon contact.

And we never give in…

“Strike!” Aisha cheered.

Everyone applauded behind them. The wave of energy Bloom felt was still present, floating in the air and into them. It seemed to fill them all with so much warmth.

Today, we are going to celebrate, and shout, “Hey hey!”

“Come on,” Bloom whispered. “I think some thanks are in order.” There was no need for debate, the girls all agreed. They fluttered into the sky and leaving a trail of magic.

Streaks of red, blue, indigo, yellow, green and pink coloured the sky, looking like multi-coloured sun rays that pierced  clouds.

We’re the sound of wonder, hear our rainbow thunder. 

“Thank you, everyone…because you believed it- that we are the magic- we managed to win!” Bloom’s voice rang through the clouds.

“Please keep believing in us, because with you, we are Believix!”

—-

Another one shot coming your way!