hit me

[anamuan]

I'm really behind on my word-count for the month between moving and having to work all day and the month kind of ends tomorrow. Yikes! Leave me prompts, and I'll see what I can't write you. I'll write JE, and am willing to attempt GW, MERLIN, and J2 (and possibly original stuff, but idk why you'd want to request that

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[anamuan]

The first time Koyama thinks about suicide, really thinks about suicide, not just the idea--'oh, there is a thing called suicide, and it makes killing yourself. That's what the characters that make up the word mean, 'murder' and 'self'--but actually wanting it, wanting to try it, wanting to see if it could take him somewhere better than the dark depressing place he was now, he remembers that PostSecret site Jin had shown him once. Jin hadn't really meant anything by it; he had simply been checking it when Koyama happened past, and they went through the week's postcards together, quickly, before getting back to whatever it was they'd each been doing before. The postcards were almost all in English, and Koyama probably wouldn't have bothered by himself because he didn't care enough to try to read them, but the words were usually short, and Jin provided a quick retelling of each postcard, after explaining, at the beginning what the website was for. You, yes you, every single one of you, send in an anonymous postcard with a secret you'd never told anybody on it. After they finished, Jin said that there were books too, and a lot of times people write in to the website saying how they made secrets and left them between the pages of the books and hoped someone would read them.

Koyama hadn't really understood the appeal then, but he hadn't had a secret either. Now he pulled out a piece of paper and a found a pen--black, just by chance--and wrote in large, jagged script across the front "I want to die."

Koyama stared at his postcard for a long time, contemplating. Those postcards on the website, they'd been colorful, creative. But Koyama didn't feel like that, so he left the rest of it blank white--cold and lonely.

The next time Koyama couldn't take the pressure, the stress, the everything and the nothing that made up who he was, if only he knew what that was, he pulled out another piece of paper and wrote Jin another postcard. He wasn't sure when he started mentally addressing them to Jin, or if he hadn't really always done it. Some strange place in America was too far away, with its English postcards, he couldn't relate to those. He needed someone who would understand, if he had the courage to tell them, and Jin fit, so he wrote his postcards to Jin, one for every breakdown, one for every time he nearly slid over the edge, one for every time he wanted to. He didn't have the guts, couldn't even imagine life the way it would be if he did, to give them to Jin, so he put them in a shoebox, each one stacked neatly on top of the last, shoved haphazardly under his bed.

Years passed. Koyama got better; Koyama got worse. He kept writing Jin secrets on postcards and mailed them to to the Jin that lived in a shoebox under his bed. He got help, eventually, reluctantly at first because he didn't truly believe anyone could help him at that point, and he slowly started to heal. When he didn't need them anymore, he gave Jin the box of postcards.

The top one was all blue, and said "Thank you." Jin looked at it, at the box in his hands, and knew it was full of secrets entrusted to him for years without his knowledge. He shifted the box over to balance on one hand, and dug into his back pocket with the other. Out of it he brought a single battered postcard, wrinkled almost to the point of illegibility.

"This, um. I wrote this for you." Jin said, offering his secret in exchange for Koyama's.

It read: "I love you."

[ginzarhapsody]

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[anamuan]

that was depressing. i crawled back out of bed to write that for you.

[ginzarhapsody]

i did not ask you to crawl out of bed nor did i ask for depressing. :P

[anamuan]

you got it anyway. :Dv