fic [Bokurano] Those Left Behind:As I break this chair
Title: Those Left Behind: As I break this chair
Day/Theme: Aug 15 As I break this chair
Series: Bokurano
Character/Pairing: all characters
Rating: PG
Notes: for 31_days. mixed. anime/manga canon. spoilers for entire series. introspective piece about chairs. =P
Archive: LJ | ffnet
-----
"These chairs should bring back memories for each of you."
-----
Waku's green chair had no armrests. His chair was the same as the one in his room, the one that he sat in to do his homework. It was familiar and extremely ordinary. When he sat in his chair, it almost felt like he was at home, playing a normal video game, except this one had more at stake. He leaned forward as he focused on piloting Zearth, his hands resting on his knees. He concentrated all his energy on his kick. It felt good to kick like this again.
They were going to win this.
-----
When Kodama opened his eyes, he was already in Zearth's cockpit, his hands gripping the armrests of his fancy office chair. The actual chair in his papa's office was not his, but this one was. He had been thinking about Zearth when he had sat down in the office. He pushed his glasses up. These chairs were connected. He rubbed the leather of his chair, pleased with his chair.
His eyes swept through the cockpit.
Fourteen chairs. Thirteen filled. One empty.
It did not matter.
-----
Daiichi sat cross-legged on his cushion, knowing full well that he was about to leave his siblings behind. It was a despairing thought, but the cushion below him calmed him. Futaba had sewed the cover of this cushion for him. He remembered how battered the pillow had been before Futaba decided to make covers out of their old clothes. The resulting cushions had served well for their seats at their dinner table. His 'chair' was a reminder that the outside world was real. His siblings were out there. He had to fight. For his siblings, for the world, for Waku and Kodama who had given their lives before him without even knowing the cost...
Fourteen chairs. Twelve filled. Two empty.
He could not afford to lose.
-----
Nakama quietly accepted things as they came. There was nothing more she could do in the little time she had left. When she appeared in Zearth's cockpit, dark bags under her eyes, she only had one thought on her mind. It was not about saving the world, rather, it was about how she needed to finish the outfits. The chair below her urged her on. This was her sewing chair, a chair with a curved back and metal legs, the only chair in the house with the perfect height for the sewing table. Sewing was the only thing that still made sense to her.
Fourteen chairs. Eleven filled. Three empty.
All she could do was continue with what she was best at.
-----
Kako smashed the metal chair against the wall, fear coursing through his body. He gasped for air, almost unable to breathe through his overwhelming fear. The wall was entirely ruined, and yet there was not one dent on his chair. He threw his chair away from him, screaming in frustration. Why wouldn't it break? He laughed maniacally when he finally bent one of the legs.
His bloodshot eyes widened when he found himself in the cockpit, the chair beneath him in pristine condition.
Fourteen chairs. Ten filled. Four empty.
He wanted to cry.
-----
Chizu's chair was simple and fancy at the same time. She hated her chair with the straight back and curled metal designs. She had loved it with all her heart before, constantly running her fingers across the cool metal, daydreaming about her beloved teacher while she waited. This was her teacher's kitchen chair, where she had willingly given herself to him. She had been so blind.
Fourteen chairs. Nine filled. Five empty, one by her hand.
She wanted revenge first.
-----
When he first saw the form his chair took, Moji already knew in his heart that this was no game. There was no game in the world that could read their hearts like this. Nagi's illness and his own selfishness was all his life centered around now, but no one in this group had known. It was anguishing enough to visit Nagi everyday, sitting by Tsubasa's side and knowing that if it weren't because of Nagi's illness, the three of them would have been separated a lot earlier. Even here in Zearth's cockpit, he was again reminded of his own faults. He and Tsubasa had never meant to be.
Fourteen chairs. Eight filled. Six empty.
His time had come. He was going to save his friend in the process.
-----
The baby crib was a painful reminder that she missed her little brother's birth by the merest hours. Maki wanted to hear him cry, to hear him gurgle, to play with him, to watch him grow up. All this was impossible now. She wouldn't even be able to watch him sleep in this baby crib she sat on top of.
Fourteen chairs. Seven filled. Seven empty.
She would do anything for the world where her baby brother lived, even if it meant annihilating an entire planet.
-----
Kirie had wondered what the point of fighting was. What right did he have to eliminate other worlds? What made their world so superior? He couldn't fight for a world that led his mother to suicide. But when his mother finally found a job thanks to the guy who hung around Ushiro's place, his mother was now like an entirely different person. She was so vibrant, so happy. Sitting on top of his stool--a very ordinary stool from his room fit for an ordinary person like him--he found that he could bring himself to fight.
Fourteen chairs. Six filled. Eight empty.
Calmly, he fought.
-----
Komo's chair was part of a set that went along with the dining table. She often sat on this chair, quietly eating dinner with her family. Her father was a man of few words while her mother had plenty of stories to share. Komo was somewhere in between. She rarely spoke up, but if prompted, she had plenty to talk about. This chair had accompanied her a long time. She was surprised that her chair had not been her piano bench. That was where she felt the most like herself. But the dining table chair was what connected her to her family.
Fourteen chairs. Five filled. Nine empty.
There were so few of them left.
-----
Anko was frightened of her chair. The large green cushions and the footstool had been the love of her life--she often sunk into the chair, lazily flipping through channels on her television. When she laid eyes on her chair again after all those deaths, she held her head as she shook, her bracelets jingling as she screamed.
Fourteen chairs. Four filled. Ten empty.
She clung to Kanji's arms as long as she could.
-----
Kanji's room was very bare. He had a computer in the corner of his dark room, and in front of that was his computer chair. That was the chair that had shown up for him in the cockpit. As the son of a wealthy scientist, he supposed he was just the bit geeky. When he saw the chair, all he could think of was how his mother never had time for him. All she gave him was money and material things. Even so, he still loved her.
Fourteen chairs. Three filled. Eleven empty.
He was going to protect her project for her.
-----
She was surprised they had not found out earlier. If they had come over to where she was staying on their Earth, they would have discovered that her chair didn't even exist here. Machi's chair was from her own Earth, back in the days when she was still innocent from contracting all those people and leading them to their deaths. She remembered how grown up she had felt back then when she sat in this chair, almost like royalty. It had been her parent's chair, a special chair for entertaining guests.
Fourteen chairs. Two filled. Twelve empty.
She couldn't die on her own Earth, but at least she had this last remnant from her reality.
-----
At first, he had hated the tiny school chair that had appeared for him. It reminded him over and over again how much he hated Kana and how displeased he was with his father, his father who cared more about his school than his children. Why couldn't he get away from his family even when bounded by a contract of death? But as his companions died one by one, as Dung Beetle told him the only way he could save himself was by sacrificing Kana, he could no longer ignore his protective feelings towards Kana, nor could he ignore the quiet pride he felt for having the school chair represent himself. His father was a great man. His father hadn't known how to express himself to his son, and Jun hadn't done any better in return. Even though Jun hadn't felt like part of the family, the school chair had appeared for him. It was a connection, a bond that had existed all along.
Fourteen chairs. One left. Thirteen empty.
He was alone. The others had left before him.
It was time to end this.
-----
the end
Longest one since the first one! This is probably the last one. I might do one here and there for later themes since the plan from before was to dedicate one day to each one of the kids, but since I included the adults (and Dung Beetle), I ended up not doing a piece on Anko, Kana, and Ushiro.
Day/Theme: Aug 15 As I break this chair
Series: Bokurano
Character/Pairing: all characters
Rating: PG
Notes: for 31_days. mixed. anime/manga canon. spoilers for entire series. introspective piece about chairs. =P
Archive: LJ | ffnet
-----
"These chairs should bring back memories for each of you."
-----
Waku's green chair had no armrests. His chair was the same as the one in his room, the one that he sat in to do his homework. It was familiar and extremely ordinary. When he sat in his chair, it almost felt like he was at home, playing a normal video game, except this one had more at stake. He leaned forward as he focused on piloting Zearth, his hands resting on his knees. He concentrated all his energy on his kick. It felt good to kick like this again.
They were going to win this.
-----
When Kodama opened his eyes, he was already in Zearth's cockpit, his hands gripping the armrests of his fancy office chair. The actual chair in his papa's office was not his, but this one was. He had been thinking about Zearth when he had sat down in the office. He pushed his glasses up. These chairs were connected. He rubbed the leather of his chair, pleased with his chair.
His eyes swept through the cockpit.
Fourteen chairs. Thirteen filled. One empty.
It did not matter.
-----
Daiichi sat cross-legged on his cushion, knowing full well that he was about to leave his siblings behind. It was a despairing thought, but the cushion below him calmed him. Futaba had sewed the cover of this cushion for him. He remembered how battered the pillow had been before Futaba decided to make covers out of their old clothes. The resulting cushions had served well for their seats at their dinner table. His 'chair' was a reminder that the outside world was real. His siblings were out there. He had to fight. For his siblings, for the world, for Waku and Kodama who had given their lives before him without even knowing the cost...
Fourteen chairs. Twelve filled. Two empty.
He could not afford to lose.
-----
Nakama quietly accepted things as they came. There was nothing more she could do in the little time she had left. When she appeared in Zearth's cockpit, dark bags under her eyes, she only had one thought on her mind. It was not about saving the world, rather, it was about how she needed to finish the outfits. The chair below her urged her on. This was her sewing chair, a chair with a curved back and metal legs, the only chair in the house with the perfect height for the sewing table. Sewing was the only thing that still made sense to her.
Fourteen chairs. Eleven filled. Three empty.
All she could do was continue with what she was best at.
-----
Kako smashed the metal chair against the wall, fear coursing through his body. He gasped for air, almost unable to breathe through his overwhelming fear. The wall was entirely ruined, and yet there was not one dent on his chair. He threw his chair away from him, screaming in frustration. Why wouldn't it break? He laughed maniacally when he finally bent one of the legs.
His bloodshot eyes widened when he found himself in the cockpit, the chair beneath him in pristine condition.
Fourteen chairs. Ten filled. Four empty.
He wanted to cry.
-----
Chizu's chair was simple and fancy at the same time. She hated her chair with the straight back and curled metal designs. She had loved it with all her heart before, constantly running her fingers across the cool metal, daydreaming about her beloved teacher while she waited. This was her teacher's kitchen chair, where she had willingly given herself to him. She had been so blind.
Fourteen chairs. Nine filled. Five empty, one by her hand.
She wanted revenge first.
-----
When he first saw the form his chair took, Moji already knew in his heart that this was no game. There was no game in the world that could read their hearts like this. Nagi's illness and his own selfishness was all his life centered around now, but no one in this group had known. It was anguishing enough to visit Nagi everyday, sitting by Tsubasa's side and knowing that if it weren't because of Nagi's illness, the three of them would have been separated a lot earlier. Even here in Zearth's cockpit, he was again reminded of his own faults. He and Tsubasa had never meant to be.
Fourteen chairs. Eight filled. Six empty.
His time had come. He was going to save his friend in the process.
-----
The baby crib was a painful reminder that she missed her little brother's birth by the merest hours. Maki wanted to hear him cry, to hear him gurgle, to play with him, to watch him grow up. All this was impossible now. She wouldn't even be able to watch him sleep in this baby crib she sat on top of.
Fourteen chairs. Seven filled. Seven empty.
She would do anything for the world where her baby brother lived, even if it meant annihilating an entire planet.
-----
Kirie had wondered what the point of fighting was. What right did he have to eliminate other worlds? What made their world so superior? He couldn't fight for a world that led his mother to suicide. But when his mother finally found a job thanks to the guy who hung around Ushiro's place, his mother was now like an entirely different person. She was so vibrant, so happy. Sitting on top of his stool--a very ordinary stool from his room fit for an ordinary person like him--he found that he could bring himself to fight.
Fourteen chairs. Six filled. Eight empty.
Calmly, he fought.
-----
Komo's chair was part of a set that went along with the dining table. She often sat on this chair, quietly eating dinner with her family. Her father was a man of few words while her mother had plenty of stories to share. Komo was somewhere in between. She rarely spoke up, but if prompted, she had plenty to talk about. This chair had accompanied her a long time. She was surprised that her chair had not been her piano bench. That was where she felt the most like herself. But the dining table chair was what connected her to her family.
Fourteen chairs. Five filled. Nine empty.
There were so few of them left.
-----
Anko was frightened of her chair. The large green cushions and the footstool had been the love of her life--she often sunk into the chair, lazily flipping through channels on her television. When she laid eyes on her chair again after all those deaths, she held her head as she shook, her bracelets jingling as she screamed.
Fourteen chairs. Four filled. Ten empty.
She clung to Kanji's arms as long as she could.
-----
Kanji's room was very bare. He had a computer in the corner of his dark room, and in front of that was his computer chair. That was the chair that had shown up for him in the cockpit. As the son of a wealthy scientist, he supposed he was just the bit geeky. When he saw the chair, all he could think of was how his mother never had time for him. All she gave him was money and material things. Even so, he still loved her.
Fourteen chairs. Three filled. Eleven empty.
He was going to protect her project for her.
-----
She was surprised they had not found out earlier. If they had come over to where she was staying on their Earth, they would have discovered that her chair didn't even exist here. Machi's chair was from her own Earth, back in the days when she was still innocent from contracting all those people and leading them to their deaths. She remembered how grown up she had felt back then when she sat in this chair, almost like royalty. It had been her parent's chair, a special chair for entertaining guests.
Fourteen chairs. Two filled. Twelve empty.
She couldn't die on her own Earth, but at least she had this last remnant from her reality.
-----
At first, he had hated the tiny school chair that had appeared for him. It reminded him over and over again how much he hated Kana and how displeased he was with his father, his father who cared more about his school than his children. Why couldn't he get away from his family even when bounded by a contract of death? But as his companions died one by one, as Dung Beetle told him the only way he could save himself was by sacrificing Kana, he could no longer ignore his protective feelings towards Kana, nor could he ignore the quiet pride he felt for having the school chair represent himself. His father was a great man. His father hadn't known how to express himself to his son, and Jun hadn't done any better in return. Even though Jun hadn't felt like part of the family, the school chair had appeared for him. It was a connection, a bond that had existed all along.
Fourteen chairs. One left. Thirteen empty.
He was alone. The others had left before him.
It was time to end this.
-----
the end
Longest one since the first one! This is probably the last one. I might do one here and there for later themes since the plan from before was to dedicate one day to each one of the kids, but since I included the adults (and Dung Beetle), I ended up not doing a piece on Anko, Kana, and Ushiro.