Hanako's Misfortunes

Mental State = Art

It was a Saturday morning and the sun was peeking through the library windows, creating a warm hue. Hanako was casually writing in a burgundy leather bound notebook, gifted to him by someone.

"Honorable number seven, your poetry is quite lovely." Yako sat near the book looking up at him.

Hanako blushed a light pink tint and gave a small smile.

"T-thanks. Oh and thank you for the journal!" He scribbles some stars and planets.

Yako nods and gives a slight headbutt to his hand. Hanako smiles and lightly pat's her head in between her ears. It's rare for Yako to show affection, but when she's alone with someone she won't mind much.

He lightly taps his pencil in thought while looking around. "Yako-san, what should I write about?"

He looks down while she looks up.

"Hm. The stars." Yako looks at the sky.

Hanako gives her a confused look. "But the sun is out?"

"So were the stars." She comments as she lays down with her paws in front of her.

He chuckles then writes to his heart's content.

{ In the city you aren't seen,
But you are still there.
Much like many things.
Such as the wind that flows through everything, and like people's voices when they sing to you in the sky.
Despite many things, you are the brightest thing to exist, giving light to all those who are hidden in the dark.
Our wishes may be billions of years away, but you are here right now.

Oh how the stars shine and gleam.}

"Okay!" He smiles with a determined look.

He then drew some more stars and a little planet, this made him a little depressed. His love for space depleted a bit, he wished he could have studied more. Theoretically he has all the time in the world, but it doesn't feel the same.

'there's no spark.' he looks outside with a small frown.

Yako read the poem and put her paw on his hand.

"...Hanako." Yako looks down, feeling the mood shift.

"You are very young, but you still had dreams. Be happy you had that, because most treasure it."

Hanako puts his chin in his hand.

"Astronomy?" He looks at her.

She nods and takes her paw away slowly. "And writing. You write so beautifully...the inside of your mind must be a terrible place. In my time, authors and artists were treasured because they had passion and imagination along with the means to share their minds. All these other things such as science and history do not mean much to me. But art is everything to me, I love when Shijima paints, it is so beautiful, and when you write and play music, it is just as lovely and when she sings, it is endearing. But the better the artist, the worse the pain they hold." She looks up at him.

Hanako looks down at his book and fiddles with his fingers.

"So?" She looks out the window.

"So?" He whispered.

"What pain do you hold...Amane?" She looks back.

He's gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~✒️~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quick author note!

I feel like this was short and sweet, if I had made it longer it would have lost it's impact. But if you'd like I can definitely extend it and add something crazy!