Disclaimer: Berusaiyu no Bara & all characters © ® All Rights Reserved Ikeda
Productions 1972-1973, Tokyo Movie Shinsha Co. 1979-1980.
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Fine Mess
by Aria(crune@coqui.net)
Dreamers like us, live in darkness, and do not
fear mere shadows.
-the DreanMaster, Syn
I didn't expect any of this to happen. I didn't expect to tell her at
all. I imagined just dying by her side, consumed by a platonic love she was
never to know of.
So much for that.
Then again I didn't expect to make her furious by blurting out the
oh-so-blunt truth and then go with my more primitive insticts. Had Oscar not
spoken and dragged me by back into reality I don't know what would have
happened. . .I don't want to imagine.
She was never going to forgive me. Hell, *I* was never going to forgive
me. Maybe I should go look for Granny's kitchen knives and end my/her
misery.
But Oscar wouldn't like that, I had thought later that night, while I was
drinking away my sorrows. She'd probably want to do the merry job herself,
besides, I was too cowardly to bring about my own death--unless she was near
me.
I could not block out Oscar's eyes. This was possibly one of the few
moments in which I had witnessed a fearful Oscar. She feared me for a
second, and then. . .just faded away. She wasn't there. She spoke
with a voice that wasn't her own and said with a resigned, detached and
despaired tone that was un-Oscar as could be imagined:
"What are you going to do to me, Andre?"
I wish I could block that out as well. I wish I could forget the fact
that I had hurt her and betrayed her trust. Me... her best friend, the one
she trusted above any other.
Some friend.
I had clutched the glass of brandy harder, and taken a long swallow. I
wanted to get so drunk, I could forget my own name. I wanted to forget
everything.
And then I did something I never expected to do. I prayed. I was
never a religious man, but I prayed then that Oscar would forgive me and if
not, that she'd simply forget. I promised that I would stay away from her
and wouldn't even look at her if she would just forget the incident.
I sort of got my wish when she declared that she forgave me.
I could have just smiled.
I could have just thanked God and said good-bye, gotten the hell away
from her to cause less pain...for both of us. I could have tried to mend our
friendship which had been dealt a mortal blow the night my lips touched hers.
I had used the truth as a sword to cut her, to have her bleed slowly to death
like I was since she had said she was going to leave.
I could have left her alone, like she wanted.
I didn't, though.
I couldn't.
I didn't want to.
I had promised myself that when I died, I'd do it for Oscar or at least
by her side--I mean to keep that promise. Which is why right now I stand,
unblinking starring at her face which has gone slightly flushed from pent up
rage.
But I was expecting that.
Besides, an angry Oscar is a beautiful sight,all fire and brilliance.
Anything was better than the Oscar I had witnessed that night, spiritless...
broken.
She breaks away the gaze and directs herself to the entire troop.
I'm going to be called and get yelled at, I thought. Perhaps the
undertone would something other than Oscar protesting my overprotectiveness,
but I could pretend--we both would, and that would make it routine, that
would make it a normal situation. It would be a bit of stability in the mess
I had made.
And believe it or not the thought is quite comforting.
End
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