ᴍᴏɴᴏᴛᴏɴᴇ | ɴɪsʜɪɴᴏʏᴀ ʏ.

[4]

There was an unbreakable wall looming before her.

It was made of red bricks—the color had turned dull since its creation—and went as high and as far as one could see. She created it herself; spent the first three years after she turned eight slowly stacking up the stones until the blinding rays couldn't touch her anymore. The wall served as her own type of protection from the chaotic whirlpool of colors from the other side.

She learned at an early age that there's no one that could truly protect her but herself.

Colors were dangerous. They were like blazing flames that were beautiful but wouldn't hesitate to engulf a person the closer they get; like the sun that melted Icarus' wings when he got closer.

They weren't like her beloved monotone that cradled her lovingly in its arms, with its comfort highly comparable to that of a mother's touch, or a lullaby she always sings to lull her child to sleep.

They were chaotic and loud. They were always screaming, growing, always enticing before dragging their victim in a pit of hopelessness after the high was over. Nothing good was ever going to come out of growing that type of chaos within one's heart.

Maybe these words were nothing but an underachiever's rambling but to her defense, she had deep reasons to have this type of outlook in life. She didn't need to look further because she saw it at first hand and even without that experience, the television news don't tell a different story from the one she'd encountered. She'd lost count of the number of times she'd seen a story feature someone who'd dream too big only for it to be crushed mercilessly.

A heterochromatic world might be beautiful but it came with a pain that was more often too much to handle.

She don't want that.

If staying in her monochromatic world meant that she wouldn't end up like Icarus then so be it. She'd rather lock herself in a dark cave where no colors could reach her and her wings, where she would forever sleep and be safe from the harshness of the outside world. Prevention was better than cure, after all. The pain she had tasted that came along that whirlwind of colors was more than enough. The colors didn't even directly came from her yet it still broke her to the point she started to create that unbreakable and impenetrable wall.

She had her out most confidence in that wall, of course. It's been proven (and tested) to withstand any attack from the ever so colorful people who for some strange reason decided to surround her. No amount of chaotic hues could graze its surface, she was sure of it.

But why does she feel so unsure as gaped at the boy before her.

"Do you like volleyball?" Was the question that came out of his mouth.

It caught her off guard, of course. By the way he walked, with all that confidence and determination flashing through his eyes, one would think he'd attempt to scream that out of the world confession again. It didn't even registered that he was talking to her until an uncomfortable silence passes by and Seiko nudged her on the arm.

She blinked a couple of times before finally opening her mouth. "I'm sorry," she apologized; twice now to the same person when she thought about it. "I don't really care about sports."

The way Seiko slammed her face on her desk told her she shouldn't have said that. She could already see her friend nagging her ears off when this boy leaves.

Surprisingly, although the shock was very clear on his face he didn't look to be put off by her words. Instead the fire in his eyes seemed to burn stronger. What was with this boy? She thought.

"What?!" He exclaimed and slammed his hands on her desk, successfully making Seiko squeak and slink into her seat. "Listen here, sports is great. Especially volleyball, okay?!" The boy continued and leaned in closer. Too close in fact that she could almost count the tiny blemishes on his face and feel his breath fan over hers.