Bungou Stray Dogs ~ One-shots

[Fyodor xR] Black Sun

Human beings were strangely gifted at blending themselves with vain hopes and illusory futures.

Deep down, she had always known something was wrong.

She should have stopped everything once she had realized the deception.

And yet, she had desperately tried to work things out, to drag out a situation that was destined to end sooner or later, more or less tragically. To her great misfortune.

By dint of imagining things that would almost never happen, she had ended up losing herself.

To live with this man the most beautiful moments imaginable on this earth, filled with love, perhaps with children and even grandchildren to complete the picture, in a house filled with laughter and joy.

To grow old with him, to die by his side, after a life composed, like those of others, of ups and downs. A life she had dreamed of, and that she had often thought she had glimpsed when she had him by her side.

After spending an eternity loving each other eye-to-eye, heart-to-heart, with no lies slipping between them... It could have been hers. This idyllic life whose sole purpose would then be to shatter their hitherto fake happiness, replacing it forever with genuine happiness, more genuine than any other.

She knew perfectly well that the happiness she now knew was not really happiness at all. But, in her eyes, she had come to this absurd conclusion.

If she refused to see all of this, if she believed with all her being and set aside her reason, which screamed at her that nothing would ever turn out the way she wanted, then maybe everything would become possible...?

Maybe this man, the one she was so madly in love with, would fall for it too? Face reality, the obvious?

Maybe he would end up coming back to her every night, into her lonely but inviting arms, who needed only his presence to feel complete at last? Finally satiated, after an eternity spent despairing of the presence of one person, rejecting all others who could not measure up to this being so dear to her?

Without leaving her alone on long, endless winter nights, in the cold loneliness that was slowly killing her, while her gaze was lost in contemplation of that surreal scene beyond the window, with the empty, dreary-colored path that only glowed with beauty when he took it again, when he returned to her?

Each time he returned, after a long absence wandering only God knew where, she regained hope. She told herself, innocently, that this time was the one.

That, from now on, nothing could come between him and her. That the look in his eyes was one of love and tenderness, not just desire. That, from that moment on, everything was within their reach, even the impossible.

With him, she felt capable of anything. She felt hopeful again. But as his determined footsteps retraced the path in front of her home, she had no choice but to stare at this heartbreaking scene, as the colors faded again, and that empty feeling dug into her chest once more.

'I love you.'

They were words she used to repeat to him over and over again, whenever she had the chance, as if she could have etched them into his wandering mind, as if to make him think of her all day long, just like her. Or perhaps, by doing so, she hoped he would realize that he, too, felt the same way about her? That until now, he had never known what to call this strange feeling she also possessed?

Love.

Even if it were a lie, she had hoped many times that he, in turn, would say 'I love you'. She could perfectly well have accepted 'me too', if the first option were a little too engaging for him.

'I know,' was all she got in the end. Obviously, he was aware of her immeasurable love for him; obviously, he was taking advantage of this boundless attachment, more than he should have, at least if he had wanted to remain humble.

But that was how he was.

She knew perfectly well that the whole thing was a gigantic lie, a masquerade in which she was the extra who was called in only when she was needed, condemned to remain as such for the rest of her life.

But she did not want to end up like that. Despite her best efforts, however, nothing had ever changed.

Was she naive? Silly? Utopian? Surely. But could you really blame a woman who wanted nothing more than to be loved in turn?

Deep down, she had always known it.

That Fyodor, no matter how hard he tried, would never love her as much as she loved him.

She had fallen madly in love with the only human being who was not really one, no matter how much that silent realization hurt. A being who did not know how to love, and who would not do anything to make things right.

She continued to stare out the window of her cold, empty house, at the dreary, deserted road, her mind wandering here and there, imagining scenes that would never exist, except in her sweetest dreams. And, while she blamed herself terribly for this, she felt boundless happiness invade her whenever he was around again.

He was the black sun of her life, a sun both fascinating and magnificent, which would nevertheless burn her eyes if she ventured to admire him more than she should. Which she had already done. Now, it was too late.

Her greatest happiness and her greatest misfortune. That is what he was to her.

And that is what he would remain, forever and ever.

An unattainable black sun.