Beautiful Lie [to Believe in] | 01/?? | AoixRuki, UruhaxRuki
Title: Beautiful Lie [to Believe in]
Chapter: 1/??
Author: akichuu
Fandom: the GazettE
Pairing: AoixRuki, RukixAoi, UruhaxRuki, possibly more to come
Theme: 038: Secret Scars - Rentrer en Soi @ 50stories
Rating: R, NC-17
Genre: AU (highschool), angst, smut
Warning: Yaoi, (slight) pedophilia, incestuous relationship, domestic abuse, possible violence. Not comfortable with those issues? Save yourselves and DON'T read this. I'm serious. And as always, there might possibly be grammatical errors and/or typos.
Disclaimer: Title taken from 30 Seconds to Mars's song, Beautiful Lie. the GazettE belongs to themselves and, yes, the Almighty PSC. I, well I own this story. It's fiction, meaning IT'S NOT REAL and I'm making no profit from it (except my 15 minutes of fame). Yes, mind that.
Summary: He was an outcast, an unwanted child that was thrown away, even by his own family. He was taught by life not to trust anyone, especially those who came to him offering the thing called 'love'. 'Love' was just a small part of his dream, and dreams, as far as he knew, weren't real and could never be real.
In this case, Shiroyama Yuu was definitely not an exception.
Comment: Yes. Hang me. I'm starting a new fic. Well actually, it isn't as new, I started it even before Love Song, but I first wrote it in my native language. Figured I should also translate it into English and share it with everyone. I won't say much here because there is a long, long rant available to torture your eyesight read down there somewhere. Enjoy!
Beautiful Lie [to Believe in]
Chapter 01
I could tell with just one look that it would be another hot, hot day. The skies were so clear of clouds, allowing the sun to freely boil the earth with its ray. It was still very early, but the temperature was already so overwhelming. I could hardly imagine how horrible it must feel when the sun was high up overhead. I was slightly grateful that I didn’t have a physical education period today. If I was told to do any kind of activities that required me to put my physique to function, either it was running around the field or something as simple as marching on the spot, I would melt and die. Honestly speaking, that wasn’t the best method to die, if I did intend to end my life.
“Oi.”
Uruha patted my shoulder; I saw him nodding and turning towards his class. I hadn’t realized we’d actually arrived in the corridor that led to our classes. That was weird; I’d never thought I could be thinking so seriously, about the weather nonetheless, that I didn’t notice where I was going. And it was weirder, even, that I hadn’t bumped onto anything or anyone on my way over.
After Uruha and I parted, I headed towards my own class. If I was to speak the truth, I didn’t really have the mood to participate in any kind of studying activity today. To make it worse, the first two hours of today’s schedule was Biology. Oh fuck. The first thing that crossed my mind was that it would be better to just ditch it. It didn’t sound so bad to be spending two whole hours alone on the rooftop. I could actually continue my sleep, since I didn’t feel like I had had enough of it last night. Yes, I believed that would be best. What’s the point of staying in class? I would just be getting another round of detention because I hadn’t done my homework, as always.
Okay, with that said, I’d just turn around and get the hell-
Oh no. Too late.
“Takanori.”
Right in front of me was already standing my Biology teacher, Shiroyama Yuu. His eyes were gleaming and a wicked smirk was planted all over his snobby face. I could tell that he had predicted my bad intentions of ditching his period. Where did he come from, anyways? I hadn’t seen him at all while I passed the corridor. Most possibly he had actually been waiting for me, fully purposed to catch me in the act. It was impossible now to find an escape. Damn you, Shiroyama. How did you know I was coming? How could you always tell what I was doing, where I was at any given moment? It was almost as if you had eyes everywhere, and they were all watching me very closely.
“Sensei,” I replied, not even bothering to hide the hostility in my voice. Shiroyama knew I hated him-well it might not be hate, not exactly. But I definitely didn’t feel too comfortable being around him. And I was sure he knew how I’d gotten to the point where I felt that way.
I walked past him without sparing him one glance. I didn’t have to see him with my own eyes to know that he was staring at me, following my every movement until I reached my seat at the last row in the class. His glare made me shiver, involuntarily, but I gave it my best to try to ignore him. Sighing, I flopped down on my chair and leaned my head on the surface of my desk. Shiroyama could say whatever he wanted to say, give a mile-long speech if that’s what he really intended to do. It didn’t matter. I had never once given him or any other teacher any attention during classes.
After the routine of saluting the teacher (that I followed half-heartedly) and every other nonsense that we used to do every morning, Shiroyama started talking about the homework he had left us with at the end of last week’s Biology period. It was impossible not to notice how his eyes darted directly at me. I knew it. The lesson hadn’t even started yet and he was already poking holes at me and picking up my faults so that he could use them against me. I knew he knew that there was no way I would be doing my homework.
Almost every kid had already handed in their homework to Shiroyama, who stacked the books up on the teacher’s desk. The only ones left were only me and two other kids, Suzuki Akira and Mitsui Aki. Akira and I were without a doubt the laziest students in this class. We kind of had established that reputation by ourselves, after months of class-ditching and homework-ignoring. But Mitsui… well, all that I had ever heard was that the girl was a walking source of trouble. I didn’t know much about her, except some things that I had overheard from people. Some said that she had been expelled from her previous school due to a problem she had gotten involved in (she had been here in this school for only four months or so). Some other said that she had been framed with something ugly, something disgraceful. I didn’t have the wish to go asking around; her problem was hers. I already had enough crap in my life I needed to take care of without having to think about anyone else’s problems.
As a result of our ignorance, the three of us had to stay after today’s classes were over. I wasn’t surprised, not anymore. I had already guessed what I had to go through; it had already happened way too many times before. No matter how small a mistake I could possibly do, Shiroyama would be waiting, ready with a punishment in his mind. All that I could do was to do whatever he wanted me to do. I had figured out, long ago, that there really was no use to put up a mutiny.
===
During lunch break, I sat with Uruha in the cafeteria. He had a worried look on his face when I told him Shiroyama held me up for detention again today.
“So you won’t be going home when school’s over?” he asked.
I shook my head, absentmindedly pushing around the food in my lunch box. Uruha’s eyes, for a reason I could not explain, made me feel uneasy. There was something that he was keeping… or was it possible that he knew a hidden fact about me? No, that was not likely. I believed I had kept my secrets very carefully, and though I did consider Uruha as my best friend, I had never really been too honest with him. I had never told him things that were too personal for me. Alright, so he knew a good deal about my family, about the lack of importance I seemed to be suffering among them, but beyond that Uruha knew nothing. He definitely didn’t know anything about Shiroyama Yuu and I made sure it stayed that way.
“What does Shiroyama do every time he put you in detention?”
Hearing Uruha’s question, I had no choice but to lift my eyes from the random work of art I had created in my lunch box that consisted of rice and omelet. “What do you mean?” I asked in return. “He does whatever teachers do when they put kids in detention. He made me do hundreds of problems, or sometimes he just left me to bore myself to death in class until it was late at night.”
Uruha nodded his head, but I didn’t see it in his eyes that he had bought my answer. There wasn’t any trust in them. What did he suspect? How far could he guess?
“What about it?” I questioned.
“Nothing,” he said, “I was just curious.”
I glared at him for a while, but he wasn’t giving any response nor was he offering me any explanation to the question he had just asked me. I didn’t want to push him, to force him to tell me what he had meant by his question, for fear of it causing him to actually suspect there was something I wasn’t telling him. Maybe it was just me; maybe I was just worried about things that weren’t all that important.
But then, I had known Uruha since forever. I knew how he would act whenever he had something he wanted to say but chose instead to keep it to himself.
“So… do you want me to pick you up this afternoon?”
He deliberately swerved our conversation to a different direction. It wasn’t hard to figure that out; I could hear it in the tone of his voice, see it in the way he avoided direct eye-contact with me. Honestly I really wanted to know what he was thinking about, but on the other side I believed it was safer if I just played dumb and pretended I didn’t notice the weird way he was behaving.
“No, you don’t have to,” I replied to his question. “I don’t have any idea when the detention will be over. And aren’t you supposed to work this afternoon?”
It was rather comical to see Uruha slapping his own forehead. I knew he would forget his own part-time schedule. Where would this kid have ended up by now if I hadn’t been around to remind him of everything he needed to remember? He might have lost the job ages ago. His boss, as far as I could tell, was a very strict man. The job paid a lot, that’s why Uruha had struggled to keep it. I had been pretty anxious to work there as well, and I would’ve gotten the job had my family not been talking crap against what I wanted to do. Those idiots, they always thought they were better than everyone else. There was just no way that they would approve their son, however worthless their son might be, to work in places that they considered ‘cheap’. This was one of the many reasons why I regretted ever being born into the Matsumoto family, carrying that name on my back like a burden, or maybe a cancer, throughout my life.
But back to the matter at hand; I shook my head, couldn’t hold myself from making a comment about Uruha’s negligence. “What did I tell you? You should’ve kept an organizer or some sort-hmm… on second thought, it won’t do any good. In the end you’ll just forget ever owning one, and you’ll be back, needing my assistance to remind you about your schedule.” I laughed when he pouted, “What, are you going to deny that? Fact is, I still have to remind you about your daily time-table and we are not even in the same class!”
Uruha sighed. “Okay, okay,” he withdrew. It brought me relief because it seemed he had forgotten the topic that he had previously been thinking about-the suspicion that I had seen in his eyes had faded away, somewhat.
Exactly when he was about to say something, the bell rang loudly, ruining the atmosphere hovering inside the cafeteria. I was grateful, more or less, because now Uruha no longer had any chance to ask me further about what was really going on between Shiroyama and me. I didn’t know how much he was hiding nor did I know how to guarantee, even for my own sake, that I would keep my mouth shut if he actually took the risk of forcing me to tell him what was really happening.
“Come on, Shorty,” he said-to which I automatically responded with a deadly glare. “I have a math quiz; I can’t be late for it.”
“Hah,” I smiled wide. “You actually remember what period you’re having next. What just happened that made your brain function?”
Uruha smacked my head, but I just laughed at him. His face was just hilarious to look at. He cursed me, a dozen rude words came out of his mouth, but it only made me laugh even harder.
Yes, I knew I needed to thank him. I had to enjoy these good moments while they lasted, moments in which I could laugh… because later, when the day was over, there wouldn’t be any reason left for me to laugh.
===
I felt like my fingers were falling off their joints when Shiroyama finally returned to class and announced that detention time was over. I looked at the paper splayed upon my desk, wondering if any of these scribbling could be read. It didn’t really matter, though. Knowing that, however hard I fought, it would all just go to waste, I had spent the last hour writing stuffs that had absolutely nothing to do with Biology. I actually had written a really detailed review about the movie I had seen last night. My brain was of no use when it came to Biology, and it always seemed to shut down automatically, putting my mind in a comatose state whenever I came face to face with a hundred problems I was supposed to work on within only one hour. This punishment just didn’t make sense. Any genius would agree with me.
Shiroyama showed his cynical smile, standing before us with his hands on his waist. I tried very, very hard not to throw up, seeing how his arrogance oozing out from his every movement.
“Alright, Suzuki, Mitsui, you two can leave your papers on your desks and go home,” Shiroyama pointed his eyes straight at me, “But you, Matsumoto, stay. I still need to talk to you.”
I sighed. There wasn’t any shock or resentment left for me to feel, deep inside my chest; maybe I had gotten much, much too accustomed to this mad routine.
Wasting no time, as soon as the two kids left the room, Shiroyama walked towards me.
~ TO BE CONTINUED ~
A/N: This is a story I’ve recently started to work on, and I actually wrote the chapters in my native language first (Indonesian) without any intention to translate it into English, at first. I thought I needed to practice on writing in Indonesian more (because I honestly suck at it, weird isn’t it?). But then, since the idea is a very challenging one, I figured out I had to share this story with the rest of the world too.
The theme, as you can see in the header, contains a lot of sensitive topic(s), starting from (slight) pedophilia to incestuous relationship (oh right, before I go too far, just to set things clear, in this story Shiroyama Yuu is 31 years old (Aoi’s exact true age), and Matsumoto Takanori is 16-half Yuu’s age, so you understand why I labeled it “slight” pedophilia). There will also be domestic abuse and pretty much general violence, self hatred, probable rape and some other disturbing stuff. I’m certain that not everyone is comfortable with such topics, so I’m going to put up an age restriction on each and every chapter of this story (was thinking to f-lock it, but then it’s like forcing you guys to add me-well it’s nice if you do want to add me, but then don’t bother if you’re only doing it so that you can read my f-locked entries).
Well, here is chapter 1, and it’s kind of a trial chapter. I’m going to look at how you people respond to this and then I’ll decide whether or not I’ll continue translating the original story into English and share it with you.
So uh… now that this story is added into the hideously big list of fanfics I am supposed to work on, I guess I need to apologize because the next chapters of House of Horrors and Love Song might possibly be delayed. Not eternally, no, but with my work schedule and with the lack of resources (read: inspiration), the updates of those stories might come up a bit slow. I’m really sorry. Maybe it’s just a temporary writer’s block. Do pray that it is, and that it will be gone soon.
Alright, I’m going to stop rambling now and let you guys do whatever you want to do… comment, I mean. Not cursing me or stabbing a voodoo doll that looks like me with needles. No, no, that would be bad. That would be really bad. Get it? Comment. Not voodoo. Thank you.
PS: I am considering to get a beta for this story-no, not just someone who can correct my English, but someone who is willing to discuss with me about what I need to fix in the matter of linguistics. Do you think I should? And if you do, who might be fitting to be crowned as my beta? Early warning, though: I may get pretty whiny and moody at times (can’t help it, sorry). So anyone who is willing to take up on the offer will have to own patience as big as the Milky Way.
PPS: If you haven't heard the song, I suggest you do. For Jared's the story's sake :D
| Fanfic List | AoixRuki 50stories Project List | Blog |
Chapter: 1/??
Author: akichuu
Fandom: the GazettE
Pairing: AoixRuki, RukixAoi, UruhaxRuki, possibly more to come
Theme: 038: Secret Scars - Rentrer en Soi @ 50stories
Rating: R, NC-17
Genre: AU (highschool), angst, smut
Warning: Yaoi, (slight) pedophilia, incestuous relationship, domestic abuse, possible violence. Not comfortable with those issues? Save yourselves and DON'T read this. I'm serious. And as always, there might possibly be grammatical errors and/or typos.
Disclaimer: Title taken from 30 Seconds to Mars's song, Beautiful Lie. the GazettE belongs to themselves and, yes, the Almighty PSC. I, well I own this story. It's fiction, meaning IT'S NOT REAL and I'm making no profit from it (except my 15 minutes of fame). Yes, mind that.
Summary: He was an outcast, an unwanted child that was thrown away, even by his own family. He was taught by life not to trust anyone, especially those who came to him offering the thing called 'love'. 'Love' was just a small part of his dream, and dreams, as far as he knew, weren't real and could never be real.
In this case, Shiroyama Yuu was definitely not an exception.
Comment: Yes. Hang me. I'm starting a new fic. Well actually, it isn't as new, I started it even before Love Song, but I first wrote it in my native language. Figured I should also translate it into English and share it with everyone. I won't say much here because there is a long, long rant available to torture your eyesight read down there somewhere. Enjoy!
Beautiful Lie [to Believe in]
Chapter 01
I could tell with just one look that it would be another hot, hot day. The skies were so clear of clouds, allowing the sun to freely boil the earth with its ray. It was still very early, but the temperature was already so overwhelming. I could hardly imagine how horrible it must feel when the sun was high up overhead. I was slightly grateful that I didn’t have a physical education period today. If I was told to do any kind of activities that required me to put my physique to function, either it was running around the field or something as simple as marching on the spot, I would melt and die. Honestly speaking, that wasn’t the best method to die, if I did intend to end my life.
“Oi.”
Uruha patted my shoulder; I saw him nodding and turning towards his class. I hadn’t realized we’d actually arrived in the corridor that led to our classes. That was weird; I’d never thought I could be thinking so seriously, about the weather nonetheless, that I didn’t notice where I was going. And it was weirder, even, that I hadn’t bumped onto anything or anyone on my way over.
After Uruha and I parted, I headed towards my own class. If I was to speak the truth, I didn’t really have the mood to participate in any kind of studying activity today. To make it worse, the first two hours of today’s schedule was Biology. Oh fuck. The first thing that crossed my mind was that it would be better to just ditch it. It didn’t sound so bad to be spending two whole hours alone on the rooftop. I could actually continue my sleep, since I didn’t feel like I had had enough of it last night. Yes, I believed that would be best. What’s the point of staying in class? I would just be getting another round of detention because I hadn’t done my homework, as always.
Okay, with that said, I’d just turn around and get the hell-
Oh no. Too late.
“Takanori.”
Right in front of me was already standing my Biology teacher, Shiroyama Yuu. His eyes were gleaming and a wicked smirk was planted all over his snobby face. I could tell that he had predicted my bad intentions of ditching his period. Where did he come from, anyways? I hadn’t seen him at all while I passed the corridor. Most possibly he had actually been waiting for me, fully purposed to catch me in the act. It was impossible now to find an escape. Damn you, Shiroyama. How did you know I was coming? How could you always tell what I was doing, where I was at any given moment? It was almost as if you had eyes everywhere, and they were all watching me very closely.
“Sensei,” I replied, not even bothering to hide the hostility in my voice. Shiroyama knew I hated him-well it might not be hate, not exactly. But I definitely didn’t feel too comfortable being around him. And I was sure he knew how I’d gotten to the point where I felt that way.
I walked past him without sparing him one glance. I didn’t have to see him with my own eyes to know that he was staring at me, following my every movement until I reached my seat at the last row in the class. His glare made me shiver, involuntarily, but I gave it my best to try to ignore him. Sighing, I flopped down on my chair and leaned my head on the surface of my desk. Shiroyama could say whatever he wanted to say, give a mile-long speech if that’s what he really intended to do. It didn’t matter. I had never once given him or any other teacher any attention during classes.
After the routine of saluting the teacher (that I followed half-heartedly) and every other nonsense that we used to do every morning, Shiroyama started talking about the homework he had left us with at the end of last week’s Biology period. It was impossible not to notice how his eyes darted directly at me. I knew it. The lesson hadn’t even started yet and he was already poking holes at me and picking up my faults so that he could use them against me. I knew he knew that there was no way I would be doing my homework.
Almost every kid had already handed in their homework to Shiroyama, who stacked the books up on the teacher’s desk. The only ones left were only me and two other kids, Suzuki Akira and Mitsui Aki. Akira and I were without a doubt the laziest students in this class. We kind of had established that reputation by ourselves, after months of class-ditching and homework-ignoring. But Mitsui… well, all that I had ever heard was that the girl was a walking source of trouble. I didn’t know much about her, except some things that I had overheard from people. Some said that she had been expelled from her previous school due to a problem she had gotten involved in (she had been here in this school for only four months or so). Some other said that she had been framed with something ugly, something disgraceful. I didn’t have the wish to go asking around; her problem was hers. I already had enough crap in my life I needed to take care of without having to think about anyone else’s problems.
As a result of our ignorance, the three of us had to stay after today’s classes were over. I wasn’t surprised, not anymore. I had already guessed what I had to go through; it had already happened way too many times before. No matter how small a mistake I could possibly do, Shiroyama would be waiting, ready with a punishment in his mind. All that I could do was to do whatever he wanted me to do. I had figured out, long ago, that there really was no use to put up a mutiny.
===
During lunch break, I sat with Uruha in the cafeteria. He had a worried look on his face when I told him Shiroyama held me up for detention again today.
“So you won’t be going home when school’s over?” he asked.
I shook my head, absentmindedly pushing around the food in my lunch box. Uruha’s eyes, for a reason I could not explain, made me feel uneasy. There was something that he was keeping… or was it possible that he knew a hidden fact about me? No, that was not likely. I believed I had kept my secrets very carefully, and though I did consider Uruha as my best friend, I had never really been too honest with him. I had never told him things that were too personal for me. Alright, so he knew a good deal about my family, about the lack of importance I seemed to be suffering among them, but beyond that Uruha knew nothing. He definitely didn’t know anything about Shiroyama Yuu and I made sure it stayed that way.
“What does Shiroyama do every time he put you in detention?”
Hearing Uruha’s question, I had no choice but to lift my eyes from the random work of art I had created in my lunch box that consisted of rice and omelet. “What do you mean?” I asked in return. “He does whatever teachers do when they put kids in detention. He made me do hundreds of problems, or sometimes he just left me to bore myself to death in class until it was late at night.”
Uruha nodded his head, but I didn’t see it in his eyes that he had bought my answer. There wasn’t any trust in them. What did he suspect? How far could he guess?
“What about it?” I questioned.
“Nothing,” he said, “I was just curious.”
I glared at him for a while, but he wasn’t giving any response nor was he offering me any explanation to the question he had just asked me. I didn’t want to push him, to force him to tell me what he had meant by his question, for fear of it causing him to actually suspect there was something I wasn’t telling him. Maybe it was just me; maybe I was just worried about things that weren’t all that important.
But then, I had known Uruha since forever. I knew how he would act whenever he had something he wanted to say but chose instead to keep it to himself.
“So… do you want me to pick you up this afternoon?”
He deliberately swerved our conversation to a different direction. It wasn’t hard to figure that out; I could hear it in the tone of his voice, see it in the way he avoided direct eye-contact with me. Honestly I really wanted to know what he was thinking about, but on the other side I believed it was safer if I just played dumb and pretended I didn’t notice the weird way he was behaving.
“No, you don’t have to,” I replied to his question. “I don’t have any idea when the detention will be over. And aren’t you supposed to work this afternoon?”
It was rather comical to see Uruha slapping his own forehead. I knew he would forget his own part-time schedule. Where would this kid have ended up by now if I hadn’t been around to remind him of everything he needed to remember? He might have lost the job ages ago. His boss, as far as I could tell, was a very strict man. The job paid a lot, that’s why Uruha had struggled to keep it. I had been pretty anxious to work there as well, and I would’ve gotten the job had my family not been talking crap against what I wanted to do. Those idiots, they always thought they were better than everyone else. There was just no way that they would approve their son, however worthless their son might be, to work in places that they considered ‘cheap’. This was one of the many reasons why I regretted ever being born into the Matsumoto family, carrying that name on my back like a burden, or maybe a cancer, throughout my life.
But back to the matter at hand; I shook my head, couldn’t hold myself from making a comment about Uruha’s negligence. “What did I tell you? You should’ve kept an organizer or some sort-hmm… on second thought, it won’t do any good. In the end you’ll just forget ever owning one, and you’ll be back, needing my assistance to remind you about your schedule.” I laughed when he pouted, “What, are you going to deny that? Fact is, I still have to remind you about your daily time-table and we are not even in the same class!”
Uruha sighed. “Okay, okay,” he withdrew. It brought me relief because it seemed he had forgotten the topic that he had previously been thinking about-the suspicion that I had seen in his eyes had faded away, somewhat.
Exactly when he was about to say something, the bell rang loudly, ruining the atmosphere hovering inside the cafeteria. I was grateful, more or less, because now Uruha no longer had any chance to ask me further about what was really going on between Shiroyama and me. I didn’t know how much he was hiding nor did I know how to guarantee, even for my own sake, that I would keep my mouth shut if he actually took the risk of forcing me to tell him what was really happening.
“Come on, Shorty,” he said-to which I automatically responded with a deadly glare. “I have a math quiz; I can’t be late for it.”
“Hah,” I smiled wide. “You actually remember what period you’re having next. What just happened that made your brain function?”
Uruha smacked my head, but I just laughed at him. His face was just hilarious to look at. He cursed me, a dozen rude words came out of his mouth, but it only made me laugh even harder.
Yes, I knew I needed to thank him. I had to enjoy these good moments while they lasted, moments in which I could laugh… because later, when the day was over, there wouldn’t be any reason left for me to laugh.
===
I felt like my fingers were falling off their joints when Shiroyama finally returned to class and announced that detention time was over. I looked at the paper splayed upon my desk, wondering if any of these scribbling could be read. It didn’t really matter, though. Knowing that, however hard I fought, it would all just go to waste, I had spent the last hour writing stuffs that had absolutely nothing to do with Biology. I actually had written a really detailed review about the movie I had seen last night. My brain was of no use when it came to Biology, and it always seemed to shut down automatically, putting my mind in a comatose state whenever I came face to face with a hundred problems I was supposed to work on within only one hour. This punishment just didn’t make sense. Any genius would agree with me.
Shiroyama showed his cynical smile, standing before us with his hands on his waist. I tried very, very hard not to throw up, seeing how his arrogance oozing out from his every movement.
“Alright, Suzuki, Mitsui, you two can leave your papers on your desks and go home,” Shiroyama pointed his eyes straight at me, “But you, Matsumoto, stay. I still need to talk to you.”
I sighed. There wasn’t any shock or resentment left for me to feel, deep inside my chest; maybe I had gotten much, much too accustomed to this mad routine.
Wasting no time, as soon as the two kids left the room, Shiroyama walked towards me.
~ TO BE CONTINUED ~
A/N: This is a story I’ve recently started to work on, and I actually wrote the chapters in my native language first (Indonesian) without any intention to translate it into English, at first. I thought I needed to practice on writing in Indonesian more (because I honestly suck at it, weird isn’t it?). But then, since the idea is a very challenging one, I figured out I had to share this story with the rest of the world too.
The theme, as you can see in the header, contains a lot of sensitive topic(s), starting from (slight) pedophilia to incestuous relationship (oh right, before I go too far, just to set things clear, in this story Shiroyama Yuu is 31 years old (Aoi’s exact true age), and Matsumoto Takanori is 16-half Yuu’s age, so you understand why I labeled it “slight” pedophilia). There will also be domestic abuse and pretty much general violence, self hatred, probable rape and some other disturbing stuff. I’m certain that not everyone is comfortable with such topics, so I’m going to put up an age restriction on each and every chapter of this story (was thinking to f-lock it, but then it’s like forcing you guys to add me-well it’s nice if you do want to add me, but then don’t bother if you’re only doing it so that you can read my f-locked entries).
Well, here is chapter 1, and it’s kind of a trial chapter. I’m going to look at how you people respond to this and then I’ll decide whether or not I’ll continue translating the original story into English and share it with you.
So uh… now that this story is added into the hideously big list of fanfics I am supposed to work on, I guess I need to apologize because the next chapters of House of Horrors and Love Song might possibly be delayed. Not eternally, no, but with my work schedule and with the lack of resources (read: inspiration), the updates of those stories might come up a bit slow. I’m really sorry. Maybe it’s just a temporary writer’s block. Do pray that it is, and that it will be gone soon.
Alright, I’m going to stop rambling now and let you guys do whatever you want to do… comment, I mean. Not cursing me or stabbing a voodoo doll that looks like me with needles. No, no, that would be bad. That would be really bad. Get it? Comment. Not voodoo. Thank you.
PS: I am considering to get a beta for this story-no, not just someone who can correct my English, but someone who is willing to discuss with me about what I need to fix in the matter of linguistics. Do you think I should? And if you do, who might be fitting to be crowned as my beta? Early warning, though: I may get pretty whiny and moody at times (can’t help it, sorry). So anyone who is willing to take up on the offer will have to own patience as big as the Milky Way.
PPS: If you haven't heard the song, I suggest you do. For Jared's the story's sake :D
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