Sincerely Yours (10i/?)
anonymous
June 12 2012, 02:17:49 UTC
He's stalling by not opening the door immediately. He fingers the text, and spares a second, a minute, for gratitude. Grateful because no matter who writes them, they're still personal, and he breathes easier without another pair of pupils over his shoulder. Yet, that's not the best part. He's far more thankful to hear the underlying trust given once more. With peace of mind, he dazedly pops the door to a region he's come to consider a safe haven-- all bad memories shoved out a window. Normally, mail from home wouldn't be grouped with those. But today's different.
He feels locked inside, squaring off against a box, but what is he to do? The gift does nothing to entice him, its unique flavor soured just nights before. It sits, lonely because his hands don't ravish its blind surface. He doesn't have the nerve to touch it. Nor does he want to lay hands on it for any kind action. Souji wonders if his mother felt this way, staring at him, something she crafted and sickened by the fact. A truth they can't deny; something so pathetic came from her. A crime he's now given birth to himself. And still, repulsive as it is, both need that injustice to survive, like water for their bodies.
He fools with the idea of falling asleep and waking with an oblivious memory. It summons the past, a day he remembers fondly. After finally having written a letter in straight mentality, the world granted him a small miracle. He slipped into blissful dreams, sealed letter clasped within tiny hands. Dawn prickled his eyes open, and the dim light glistened on the treasure found atop his belly. His desolate face morphed into one of scary excitement as he tore into the devilish sweet destined to end his starvation. Her honey glazed tone bewitched him into believing winter ended, and summer came to visit. The spell broke once he tried to answer a blank address. He longed to bury himself-- partially crushed by sadness, more ashamed he harbored such deceitful hope. Only deserving boys received fairytale endings, silly. But the trickery inspired a manipulative method he would later use.
He abandons that tactic in a gutter, now. Admitting it aloud condemned him to this destination. Once awake, it's impossible to embrace the same dream.
The voices reverberating within scare Souji from time to time. They do so now, as he hears the all too simple words, it's okay. His response emerges as another language, one of pure emotion, and it frightens him, possibly more. Because he knows, he understands what's been said, even if a piece of him doesn't desire the power, the responsibility, it entails.
But he agrees, regardless, unable to stop it-- It is okay.
It's okay.
Perhaps, better than okay. Because truth isn't free. It comes at the price of fiction. He consented while watching every thread turn to ash, it was a fortune worth spending.
He can handle opening it himself. All he needs is a little help, someone to hold his hand. It's not outrageous to ask, and vastly better than hiding and watching. A similar set of hands ghosts over his own sitting atop the cardboard. It's the security he wished for, a steady presence to catch him if he falls.
He pries apart the package; inside is a series of warm weather guards, all chic and high end brand. He must have picked these up on one of the nights he came back with a dress. He doesn't remember them, but that was the point. One by one, they pool on his lap-- scarf, earmuffs, gloves. Perfect timing. He'll wear them tomorrow. At the bottom is a letter, every curve of the pen a replica to hers.
He picks up the paper, and finds it shaking like on a bus ride through unpaved territory. So he uses the table as his music stand, and crumples his fists beside each knee.
Sincerely Yours (10j/?)
anonymous
June 12 2012, 02:18:46 UTC
Dear Souji,
It's happened again. We heard a suspicious noise before leaving for work today. Turns out it was just a cat. Then your father disappeared during lunch and never returned. I thought he got pulled to work on another project, but when I got home, guess where he was? Sitting outside playing with the cat brigade. I finally dragged him in, but he hasn't stopped sneezing. What should we do with him? I vote auctioning.
Ah. Right. He's fairly certain his father isn't allergic to cats, but it's a nicer reason than the one he was given for leaving behind Cat Burger. If this were to be her way to make amends, Souji would feel open to apologizing too.
How do you like the presents? When I found these in the window, I envisioned you wearing them much better than the mannequin. I hope you didn't already buy something yourself. Then again, it wouldn't matter, would it? These can be your favorite! Your father's sending a coat soon, so be on the lookout for that! I can't be there to keep you warm personally, but maybe these'll do the trick?
Speaking of, it's gotten so cold around here! Seems like I'm not used to the weather changes in my own home anymore. No one in the office can agree on a stable temperature, so I take my breaks at the coffee shop a little ways down. They have a delicious strawberry cake (which can be drizzled with chocolate if you know who to talk to!), but...it's one of the few things that still taste sweet, so I try not to eat it often. Don't wanna grow immune to that too. Everything else is the same, alternating between bland and bitter. I've been everywhere: five stars to no stars, and even our classics. Your father says they're divine, so I guess it's just me. I wish this condition were new, but it's been so long I can't remember how some signature dishes tasted in the first place. Even the smell and texture deny me pleasure-- the lot's got a putrid odor and slimy skin. I could eat the same thing day after day for all the difference it makes. This... She's suffering. Like he is, because they're separated. Why else would he want her to write a sad experience? Of course, that wouldn't be healthy. Thankfully, I haven't had any dreams where lobsters disembark from a plate to chew my face off (or chase me down never-ending flights of stairs). Magic words, successfully restoring cheer.
Oh yes, and Souji, thanks for the box. I haven't done extensive testing with it, but so far the nightmares are less frequent. I wonder why it works. Could it be that its intended purpose is effective, or is it the gift aspect? There's a theory circling my head, but it's probably better if I don't say. Plus, I have your CD. It doesn't do a thing for dreams, but I wouldn't have any of those if I couldn't get to sleep, right? I play it at night when hundreds of problems gallivant through the fields in my head. The songs are beautiful, so I always think of you. Much better than any teddy bear. The best lullaby I've ever drifted off to ♥
His hands unfurl at that, because he didn't expect her to listen. What are the odds, that he would get a positive reply to a matter so coincidental? He's never recorded anything before, so to predict that he would so far in advance... Maybe he knows himself better than a book.
Our little star... Yep, sounds right. I'm surprised you like that name...it's so vain! Guess you do take after me! The sound of her laughter, bold and bright, lends itself to the cause. Now, toss this in your noggin: you're asking about a difference which doesn't exist. Stars on TV, stars in the sky, are all the same. Why do you think they share the name? You wish upon the lights at night, and shove those same dreams on whatever famous dove you find. Stars always burn out too. That's why you should watch your hours, before they slip into weeks and years you can't remember spending anywhere. There were dark, discouraged times where he didn't exactly try his hardest. Is this a reminder of that?
Sincerely Yours (10k/?)
anonymous
June 12 2012, 02:19:46 UTC
It's OK if you don't want to make like bunnies, but this youth won't last forever. There are things I expect from you, but I still want you to have fun. Don't get so tied up in my wants that yours become phantom energies.
My life _____ | _____ Your life.
Understand? It gives me chills when you put your foot down. I can't promise you'll always get your way, but show that moxie! Just what he wanted her to say. Maybe what she's been trying to say too. If he pages through a mental photo album and compares instances of her utmost satisfaction and disappointment, are they really so disjointed? Could she have grinned if he didn't throw in the towel so often? Would she have ignored him and gone about her day if he hadn't found a loophole in her plan? He'll find out, if given another chance.
I trust you to make good decisions. Of course, being human we can't always do that, which is my undercover reason for probing. I wanted to see if you could still depend on me. At times, you'll get in over your head, but don't be too resentful or scared to talk to me. Alright? I know it's more like you to choose your father. I'm a bit of a wicked witch, aren't I? It's fine. Just don't keep your fears bottled up. He has no recollection of ever feeling bitter enough to shun either of them throughout this process. Perhaps another student supplied the concern. It's not too farfetched from a subject that might wind her up. I worry about you... Even though I shouldn't. My little brother's taking good care of you.
He tattled so much when we were kids! Couldn't keep a single secret. Makes sense he'd turn into a cop. I just know he'd arrest me if he found out certain things. There was one time I stayed out five minutes past curfew when Mom and Dad were out. 5 minutes!!! And I got grounded for a week because he couldn't keep his mouth shut. Never-mind that he should've been in bed himself. "She woke me up coming in late." Please. He stayed up all night with his video games He laughs, but every trace of it is erased by the letter's end.
That was a harmless occasion, but not all of them followed that rule. He never caught me on the worst days, and I got away with a few suspect activities.
Have you ever wanted to be forgiven so badly it drove you crazy? You'd confess, or beg, even bargain? Anything to help, despite the senseless stupidity? Every now and then, I get those urges. Then I remember it never works for me. It's the punishment I seek. Which would you prefer, Souji? To move on, anyway.
Love, Mom
He might have desired reassurance at her guilt, but what possessed him to drum up a question with such a glaring answer?
-
He's going to write them. How could he not? He'll do so until there's nothing left to say.
Dear Mom & Dad,
I saw Mr. Hoppity in the lawn yesterday. He stuck around to play a bit, but I think he misses Nanako. I gave her a picture incase he doesn't come out until Spring again. I'm trying to make her stay a little brighter, especially when they lock us out. My friends and I are making pinwheels to hang from the ceiling, and ribbons for her bed. She'll find a rainbow anywhere she looks ♪ We also carrying out operation: Distract Dojima. He has too long to sit and think. I lent him a pack of cards to practice tricks with, and assigned him homework so he can't slack off. So far, he's flunking: D-! The nurses giggle every time he messes up. He needs to shape up!
Your gifts are perfect, Mom! They're so cozy ♥ Thank you! It's getting chillier by the hour. Countdown to winter! Hope it snows soon.
I'm so glad you liked the CD! I didn't want to ask, because you might've needed more time with it, but the nerves were chewing away at me! I'm happy you sleep better at night, too. That's all I really wanted. ...Being the cause is going to keep me up all night grinning.
Sincerely Yours (10l/?)
anonymous
June 12 2012, 02:20:45 UTC
Mom, it's okay. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have screamed you chased him away. I'm sure he liked me too. I don't think it was anyone's fault he ran away. Cat Burger's gotta be a drifter, right? Like us. Thanks for helping me look for him. Saying goodbye made it easier. Oh, and I don't think you should auction Dad. We wouldn't get much. Let's just sit him in time-out.
I'm trying to earn forgiveness right now. I couldn't live with the punishment alone. I think a little of both is best to move on with. I don't know what you did, but if you're sorry, you've taken one step forward already. I hate seeing you so hard on yourself. Please? Even if you have regrets, aren't there some things you always want to remember?
You're going to worry me. Get your thoughts out of the dark, Mom. If it's too much for me to handle alone, I'll tell you. Nothing's going to change that.
And don't try to scare me. I proudly accept my role as your little star. Stand by watching. One day, you'll be amazed. When that happens, he hopes she'll crown him with the title again.
Love, Souji
He squeezes it into an envelope. Stamps it. When the bottom drawer pops open, he's surprised to find the mailbox missing. Instances of a few weeks past skitters through his mind, reminding him that he threw it into the TV. He frowns, but it's not a problem. He'll just put this one somewhere safe and private, like the last one.
Where did he put the last one?
The mailbox, his brain supplies. The residential mailbox.
Alright, so he'll...just...
What.
He did, he remembers. But why? What infected his sense of reason. Not that it matters. It should have been returned to him. Because the address doesn't exist. It never does.
Except this once, because a caring uncle pulled up to the flat and his nephew knocked on the door and why wasn't it returned? Souji remembers his parents getting bills that weren't theirs when they moved to a new place. They never kept them. Is this not the same? Maybe the apartment is vacant, and no one could return the mail. Yes.
He stretches and maybe pulls a heartstring, because it's a bit of a dreadful snap when it occurs once again that he doesn't have his personal mailbox. He won't get another letter from them unless he writes it himself-- in the exposing light. And he just can't handle that right now. It's easier to not receive a response at all.
At least he deserves a pat on the back for concocting the best batch of letters yet. How strange would it be for Mom to mention Dojima-san if he stayed at another boarding school? Then again, it's another brand of strange for them to answer his questions on cue, enjoyable as it was. Must be the magic of subconscious. And then to change addresses so he could receive their letters faster was probably his most clever idea. But his favorite experience was receiving gifts. The flowers were beautiful.
Otherworldly beautiful.
And so fresh.
It should have been impossible to arrange the delivery of fresh flowers a year in advance to a house in a city he might not have stayed at.
The second hand on his clock steadily revolves from twelve to eleven.
Souji decides that sometimes if it should be impossible...
it is impossible.
Very unexpected hiatus. Hoping it won't happen again. Thanks to anyone still sticking with this!
Re: Sincerely Yours (10l/?)
anonymous
August 23 2012, 05:39:46 UTC
In looooove with this fic I love how you write Souji its so ansty and perfect and im really curious to see how you end it too I hope you follow it through to the end
He feels locked inside, squaring off against a box, but what is he to do? The gift does nothing to entice him, its unique flavor soured just nights before. It sits, lonely because his hands don't ravish its blind surface. He doesn't have the nerve to touch it. Nor does he want to lay hands on it for any kind action. Souji wonders if his mother felt this way, staring at him, something she crafted and sickened by the fact. A truth they can't deny; something so pathetic came from her. A crime he's now given birth to himself. And still, repulsive as it is, both need that injustice to survive, like water for their bodies.
He fools with the idea of falling asleep and waking with an oblivious memory. It summons the past, a day he remembers fondly. After finally having written a letter in straight mentality, the world granted him a small miracle. He slipped into blissful dreams, sealed letter clasped within tiny hands. Dawn prickled his eyes open, and the dim light glistened on the treasure found atop his belly. His desolate face morphed into one of scary excitement as he tore into the devilish sweet destined to end his starvation. Her honey glazed tone bewitched him into believing winter ended, and summer came to visit. The spell broke once he tried to answer a blank address. He longed to bury himself-- partially crushed by sadness, more ashamed he harbored such deceitful hope. Only deserving boys received fairytale endings, silly. But the trickery inspired a manipulative method he would later use.
He abandons that tactic in a gutter, now. Admitting it aloud condemned him to this destination. Once awake, it's impossible to embrace the same dream.
The voices reverberating within scare Souji from time to time. They do so now, as he hears the all too simple words, it's okay. His response emerges as another language, one of pure emotion, and it frightens him, possibly more. Because he knows, he understands what's been said, even if a piece of him doesn't desire the power, the responsibility, it entails.
But he agrees, regardless, unable to stop it-- It is okay.
It's okay.
Perhaps, better than okay. Because truth isn't free. It comes at the price of fiction. He consented while watching every thread turn to ash, it was a fortune worth spending.
He can handle opening it himself. All he needs is a little help, someone to hold his hand. It's not outrageous to ask, and vastly better than hiding and watching. A similar set of hands ghosts over his own sitting atop the cardboard. It's the security he wished for, a steady presence to catch him if he falls.
He pries apart the package; inside is a series of warm weather guards, all chic and high end brand. He must have picked these up on one of the nights he came back with a dress. He doesn't remember them, but that was the point. One by one, they pool on his lap-- scarf, earmuffs, gloves. Perfect timing. He'll wear them tomorrow. At the bottom is a letter, every curve of the pen a replica to hers.
He picks up the paper, and finds it shaking like on a bus ride through unpaved territory. So he uses the table as his music stand, and crumples his fists beside each knee.
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It's happened again. We heard a suspicious noise before leaving for work today. Turns out it was just a cat. Then your father disappeared during lunch and never returned. I thought he got pulled to work on another project, but when I got home, guess where he was? Sitting outside playing with the cat brigade. I finally dragged him in, but he hasn't stopped sneezing. What should we do with him? I vote auctioning.
Ah. Right. He's fairly certain his father isn't allergic to cats, but it's a nicer reason than the one he was given for leaving behind Cat Burger. If this were to be her way to make amends, Souji would feel open to apologizing too.
How do you like the presents? When I found these in the window, I envisioned you wearing them much better than the mannequin. I hope you didn't already buy something yourself. Then again, it wouldn't matter, would it? These can be your favorite! Your father's sending a coat soon, so be on the lookout for that! I can't be there to keep you warm personally, but maybe these'll do the trick?
Speaking of, it's gotten so cold around here! Seems like I'm not used to the weather changes in my own home anymore. No one in the office can agree on a stable temperature, so I take my breaks at the coffee shop a little ways down. They have a delicious strawberry cake (which can be drizzled with chocolate if you know who to talk to!), but...it's one of the few things that still taste sweet, so I try not to eat it often. Don't wanna grow immune to that too. Everything else is the same, alternating between bland and bitter. I've been everywhere: five stars to no stars, and even our classics. Your father says they're divine, so I guess it's just me. I wish this condition were new, but it's been so long I can't remember how some signature dishes tasted in the first place. Even the smell and texture deny me pleasure-- the lot's got a putrid odor and slimy skin. I could eat the same thing day after day for all the difference it makes. This... She's suffering. Like he is, because they're separated. Why else would he want her to write a sad experience? Of course, that wouldn't be healthy. Thankfully, I haven't had any dreams where lobsters disembark from a plate to chew my face off (or chase me down never-ending flights of stairs). Magic words, successfully restoring cheer.
Oh yes, and Souji, thanks for the box. I haven't done extensive testing with it, but so far the nightmares are less frequent. I wonder why it works. Could it be that its intended purpose is effective, or is it the gift aspect? There's a theory circling my head, but it's probably better if I don't say. Plus, I have your CD. It doesn't do a thing for dreams, but I wouldn't have any of those if I couldn't get to sleep, right? I play it at night when hundreds of problems gallivant through the fields in my head. The songs are beautiful, so I always think of you. Much better than any teddy bear. The best lullaby I've ever drifted off to ♥
His hands unfurl at that, because he didn't expect her to listen. What are the odds, that he would get a positive reply to a matter so coincidental? He's never recorded anything before, so to predict that he would so far in advance... Maybe he knows himself better than a book.
Our little star... Yep, sounds right. I'm surprised you like that name...it's so vain! Guess you do take after me! The sound of her laughter, bold and bright, lends itself to the cause. Now, toss this in your noggin: you're asking about a difference which doesn't exist. Stars on TV, stars in the sky, are all the same. Why do you think they share the name? You wish upon the lights at night, and shove those same dreams on whatever famous dove you find. Stars always burn out too. That's why you should watch your hours, before they slip into weeks and years you can't remember spending anywhere. There were dark, discouraged times where he didn't exactly try his hardest. Is this a reminder of that?
Reply
My life _____ | _____ Your life.
Understand? It gives me chills when you put your foot down. I can't promise you'll always get your way, but show that moxie! Just what he wanted her to say. Maybe what she's been trying to say too. If he pages through a mental photo album and compares instances of her utmost satisfaction and disappointment, are they really so disjointed? Could she have grinned if he didn't throw in the towel so often? Would she have ignored him and gone about her day if he hadn't found a loophole in her plan? He'll find out, if given another chance.
I trust you to make good decisions. Of course, being human we can't always do that, which is my undercover reason for probing. I wanted to see if you could still depend on me. At times, you'll get in over your head, but don't be too resentful or scared to talk to me. Alright? I know it's more like you to choose your father. I'm a bit of a wicked witch, aren't I? It's fine. Just don't keep your fears bottled up. He has no recollection of ever feeling bitter enough to shun either of them throughout this process. Perhaps another student supplied the concern. It's not too farfetched from a subject that might wind her up. I worry about you... Even though I shouldn't. My little brother's taking good care of you.
He tattled so much when we were kids! Couldn't keep a single secret. Makes sense he'd turn into a cop. I just know he'd arrest me if he found out certain things. There was one time I stayed out five minutes past curfew when Mom and Dad were out. 5 minutes!!! And I got grounded for a week because he couldn't keep his mouth shut. Never-mind that he should've been in bed himself. "She woke me up coming in late." Please. He stayed up all night with his video games He laughs, but every trace of it is erased by the letter's end.
That was a harmless occasion, but not all of them followed that rule. He never caught me on the worst days, and I got away with a few suspect activities.
Have you ever wanted to be forgiven so badly it drove you crazy? You'd confess, or beg, even bargain? Anything to help, despite the senseless stupidity? Every now and then, I get those urges. Then I remember it never works for me. It's the punishment I seek. Which would you prefer, Souji? To move on, anyway.
Love,
Mom
He might have desired reassurance at her guilt, but what possessed him to drum up a question with such a glaring answer?
-
He's going to write them. How could he not? He'll do so until there's nothing left to say.
Dear Mom & Dad,
I saw Mr. Hoppity in the lawn yesterday. He stuck around to play a bit, but I think he misses Nanako. I gave her a picture incase he doesn't come out until Spring again. I'm trying to make her stay a little brighter, especially when they lock us out. My friends and I are making pinwheels to hang from the ceiling, and ribbons for her bed. She'll find a rainbow anywhere she looks ♪ We also carrying out operation: Distract Dojima. He has too long to sit and think. I lent him a pack of cards to practice tricks with, and assigned him homework so he can't slack off. So far, he's flunking: D-! The nurses giggle every time he messes up. He needs to shape up!
Your gifts are perfect, Mom! They're so cozy ♥ Thank you! It's getting chillier by the hour. Countdown to winter! Hope it snows soon.
I'm so glad you liked the CD! I didn't want to ask, because you might've needed more time with it, but the nerves were chewing away at me! I'm happy you sleep better at night, too. That's all I really wanted. ...Being the cause is going to keep me up all night grinning.
Reply
I'm trying to earn forgiveness right now. I couldn't live with the punishment alone. I think a little of both is best to move on with. I don't know what you did, but if you're sorry, you've taken one step forward already. I hate seeing you so hard on yourself. Please? Even if you have regrets, aren't there some things you always want to remember?
You're going to worry me. Get your thoughts out of the dark, Mom. If it's too much for me to handle alone, I'll tell you. Nothing's going to change that.
And don't try to scare me. I proudly accept my role as your little star. Stand by watching. One day, you'll be amazed. When that happens, he hopes she'll crown him with the title again.
Love,
Souji
He squeezes it into an envelope. Stamps it. When the bottom drawer pops open, he's surprised to find the mailbox missing. Instances of a few weeks past skitters through his mind, reminding him that he threw it into the TV. He frowns, but it's not a problem. He'll just put this one somewhere safe and private, like the last one.
Where did he put the last one?
The mailbox, his brain supplies. The residential mailbox.
Alright, so he'll...just...
What.
He did, he remembers. But why? What infected his sense of reason. Not that it matters. It should have been returned to him. Because the address doesn't exist. It never does.
Except this once, because a caring uncle pulled up to the flat and his nephew knocked on the door and why wasn't it returned? Souji remembers his parents getting bills that weren't theirs when they moved to a new place. They never kept them. Is this not the same? Maybe the apartment is vacant, and no one could return the mail. Yes.
He stretches and maybe pulls a heartstring, because it's a bit of a dreadful snap when it occurs once again that he doesn't have his personal mailbox. He won't get another letter from them unless he writes it himself-- in the exposing light. And he just can't handle that right now. It's easier to not receive a response at all.
At least he deserves a pat on the back for concocting the best batch of letters yet. How strange would it be for Mom to mention Dojima-san if he stayed at another boarding school? Then again, it's another brand of strange for them to answer his questions on cue, enjoyable as it was. Must be the magic of subconscious. And then to change addresses so he could receive their letters faster was probably his most clever idea. But his favorite experience was receiving gifts. The flowers were beautiful.
Otherworldly beautiful.
And so fresh.
It should have been impossible to arrange the delivery of fresh flowers a year in advance to a house in a city he might not have stayed at.
The second hand on his clock steadily revolves from twelve to eleven.
Souji decides that sometimes if it should be impossible...
it is impossible.
Very unexpected hiatus. Hoping it won't happen again. Thanks to anyone still sticking with this!
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archiveofourown[dot]org/works/956188/chapters/1871397
I'd like to pick this up again soon. The remaining chapters will be hosted on ao3, but I'll link to them here as well.
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