Aburatsubo Ayanjou stared at Takakura Takeo longingly. Takeo was pointedly directing his attention elsewhere, obviously feeling uncomfortable.
With a soft sigh, Ayanjou clenched his fists tightly for a moment, trying to release a little tension. Things were spiraling out of his grasp. Takeo was making his non-intentions clearer every day, and the finals before graduation were challenging for the first time in his life. He felt as if every day, he sunk deeper into a maelstorm of emotional turmoil.
Unrequited, hopeless love was slow torture.
"Aburatsubo! Concentrate!"
With a wince at his inattention, Ayanjou drew himself back to the present. He and Takeo were attempting to cast a new spell, one that would supposedly make both of them feel less stressed. A happiness spell of some sort.
Ayanjou grimly concentrated, thinking that the only thing that could provide him with happuiness would be Takeo.
He gritted his teeth. As depression at his hopeless situation ate at him, it became more and more difficult to put on a happy face. Especially for Nanaka. The more he tried, the more his friend could tell that something was bothering him.
"Aburatsubo! Concentrate...SHIMATTA!"
Without any other hint of warning, his world went black.
"Aburatsubo! Daijobu ka! [Are you ok?]"
"N...?" He slowly opened his eyes, and sniffed. His face felt wet...and his head felt odd. Automatically, he responded, blearily gazing up at Takeo's concerned face. "Shinpai nai. [Don't worry.]" He felt a wad of tissures shoved into his limp hand.
"Your nose is bleeding, Aburatsubo." Takeo took off his hat.
"Un..."He carefully pinched his nose shut. "What happened?"
"I'm not sure. You stopped concentrating again, and the spell slipped out of my grasp. It backfired into you. I've never seen anything like it."
"I feel like I've been hit by something large." Aburatsubo carefully pushed himself into a sitting position.
"This is awful! It's my fault! It's too late at night to try to do magic. Gomen nasai!" Takeo glared at the wall.
"Nai, nai...I'll be fine. Why don't we just call it a night?" From sitting, he clambered ponderously to his feet, only slightly unsteady now. "I think I'd like to go home and lay down."
"Takeo nodded. "I'll clean up tonight. You go ahead."
"Ja matta." Ayanjou walked slowly from the room, and headed home.
With a muffled moan, he lay down on his futon. He'd been lucky to come home late enough that his parents were asleep. He didn't think he could handle his mother fussing at him right now.
He closed his eyes, hoping for a small escape from his physical pain and mental disorientation.
Every dream he had was of Takakura-and the adoring looks he directed at Sae.
In the morning, he opened his crusted eyes, feeling completely unrested. His depression deepened as he looked in the mirror. Dried blood still decorated his right nostril, and dark bags hung under his eyes. His hair even seemed limp, looking worse than what the depredations of mere morning hair caused.
"Look at you, Ayanjou. Look at you. So useless." He glared at his image in the mirror, sneering as it glared back. "Completely useless. You can't even compete with a clumsy little sophomore for the affections of the man you love."
He leaned forward, resting his forehead against the mirror. "What's wrong with me? Am I ugly?" He leaned back, inspecting the mirror once more. It was uneven, a slight wave in the center swallowing his nose, making his eyes seem too far apart. "Why can't I find the happiness I want?"
With a long sigh, he stepped back, and mocked the warped face in the mirror. "Smile now. If a smiling face can't win Takeo, a depressed one certainly won't. Bottle it up. There's a good boy."
He spoke the words as they came to mind, not bothering to think how unlike him it was. "Sae doesn't deserve him. She doesn't. I don't know why he likes her. I bet she cast a spell on him." His tone was venomous. His chest felt tight, his throat felt raw...like he was holding back a scream.
"She must have! Why else would this happen? Maybe she even cursed me!" He grabbed a towel, and balled it in his fist, biting it to keep back a nauseating bubbling of hysterical laughter that seemed to come from no where.
He looked at his face in the mirror, pale, his eyes wide, whites showing all around. With a strangled gasp, he threw the towel down and fled the bathroom, caught by a sudden feeling of claustrophobia, and the animalistic need to flee.
Still caught up by the need to escape, Ayanjou tore through his room, grabbing his books and uniform, scattering pens and paper in his haste.
Feeling hunted, but not sure who or what was after him, Ayanjou ran out his house, slamming the door behind him, heading for the only sanctuary he could think of.
Ayanjou's mother knocked on his bedroom door, concern radiating from her. "Ayanjou?" She slid the door open. "Oh my god..."
His room was in tatters, blood soaking one corner of his futon, now dried into an ugly brown crust. Clothing and papers were scattered across the floor, looking as if a giant finger had stirred them. "Ayanjou!"
Ayanjou collapsed on a bench, halfway to school. His breath came in gasps, his legs burned.
An echo of the morning wreathed through his mind. "Useless..." it taunted him. "Useless..."
"NO!" Ayanjou jumped back to his feet, not caring that people were staring at him. He ran toward the school again, trying to outrun his own voice, his own thoughts.
Takeo felt puzzled. He'd spent his morning staring at Ayanjou's empty seat. Ayanjou NEVER missed school. He bit his lip. Maybe whatever had happened last night was worse than he thought.
With a sigh, he stood up and headed to the club room.
Ayanjou slumped in a shadowy corner, his hands limp on the floor beside him. Only his eyes seemed alive, watching the door to the magic club room with the insane, malevolent intensity of a starving predator.
He'd been right. Sae and Takeo showed up together, not even glancing in his direction. Ayanjou didn't stop to consider that perhaps they couldn't see him.
They ignored him. They didn't care.
Nanaka was already in the room. "Takakura-senpai...Sae...have you seen Aburatsubo-senpai?"
Takeo started. "No. Why?"
"His mother called me during lunch to see if I had seen him. She's scared. He's been missing since this morning. She found his room empty, looking like there had been a wild animal in it. There was blood all over his futon."
"What? I had assumed that he was home, after the accident yesterday."
"What accident??" Nanaka was beginning to feel a bit frantic, herself.
"We were casting a spell, and it backfired on him. He went home, because he didn't feel well."
"What spell, Takakura-senpai?"
"The happiness one we were telling you about."
Nanaka's eyes widened, and Takeo felt his heart clench, his skin going icy.
"BAKA! All it does is intensify an aleady present emotion. If it backfired, who knows what it would do to him. He's been so depressed lately."
"Shimatta! We have to find him!"
He stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
"Useless...useless...they don't care...no one does..." The voice, his voice, kept mocking.
With a sob, he put his fist through the mirror. He could feel his knuckles break as they hit the wall. Blood ran from his hand as the mirror shattered around it.
Sharp pieces of glass littered the ground.
He couldn't take his eyes off of them.
"Useless..."
The glass was sharp. Very sharp.
Ayanjou smiled dreamily as he slid down the wall, warmth pouring through his fingers, a soft pattering echoing around the bathroom. Darkness clouded his vision.
At last, he couldn't hear his own voice any more.
Takeo stumbled into the bathroom, and stopped as glass crunched underfoot. The floor was smeared with red streaks. "Oh god, no..."
He slowly raised his eyes to the source of the red rivers. "AYANJOU!" Half falling toward his friend, he grabbed his wrists, ignoring the blood, ignoring everything, applying pressure.
Out in the hall, he could hear footsteps running.
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