𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

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FIVE
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It was the twenty-eighth day of September and Rintarou Suna laid on the bench that he usually slept on at lunch, which was right beside the Cherry Blossom Tree that bears pink flowers and fell each time the breeze grew stronger.

His hand was placed behind the back of his head while his other hand was placed on top of his abdomen as he laid on his back, just staring blankly at the branches and pink petals that swayed a few feet away in front of him as he looked up. Birds that rested on the twigs attached to the branches, chirped and sang while they sat along with their flock.

The sound that those arial animals created were noisy and he felt fucking irritated. He felt as if these birds that sat on the branches, were mocking him in some sort of weird way – like they were talking shit about him.

Their annoying chirps echoing in his ears that he didn't notice before, was now the only sound that clouded his senses.

But that was just his wild imagination that ran whenever he was angry.

His lips pursed to a frown while he pondered on what had happened a few days ago. Her words that were written on the pieces of paper, the tight bandages that wrapped around her arms, the way she limped, and her face that contorted to an angry expression.

It was safe to say that he felt extremely guilty.

"Go away." He could even remember how cold her words sounded.

All that Suna could feel at the moment was the disappointment that pooled inside himself because of the curiosity that got the better of him. It was completely his mistake, but for a second there when he saw Zumi's eyes soften into sadness, she looked dismayed at anything else but him – maybe it was directed to herself, but he couldn't be too sure.

But the question was – Why would she feel that way?

He wasn't exactly the type to linger on about problems and they usually didn't affect him as much as this, but perhaps it was because someone's emotions were on the line, and it was insensitive of him for doing that.

He jolted from his laying position to sit up, peering down at the multiple lines in his palms in annoyance – he had to do something. There was this loud voice inside the very back of his mind telling him not to just leave the situation as it is.

I have to apologize properly.

-o-

Zumi Hoga took off the large cotton sweater that swallowed up her figure, examining herself as she stood in front of the mirror. Her eyes dulled looking at her thighs that looked slightly thicker than other girls', breasts that were a bit larger than average, cheeks that were quite round, and a pudgy stomach.

Something similar to a war that has rained upon a place where roads were painted blood red and dead bodies that scattered across that looked horrifying, and it was a disaster – this was what she would describe her skin to be looking like. Parts of her skin were filled with a reddish color that were painful, and dead skin took up the space where her wounds were not placed.

Nails that tried to scraped off the thin layer of skin as if trying to banish itself from existence because it was too unpleasant to see.

She was not a pretty sight. If other girls were a sight for sore eyes, she believed that was definitely the exact opposite.

She ran her hands softly over her scars and scratches as if fearing that one wrong move, or accidentally pressing a bit too hard would bring a feeling that she didn't want to be experiencing anymore – and for her, it was the case.

Her lips trembled as she tried to bring her lips up to a small smile, trying to see if she would look much prettier if she attempted to look happy. But it wasn't. The lips that she tried to pull up didn't even reach her eyes as it travelled half-way, failing to meet the standards of a beautiful smile as it crumbled in the middle.
Then it dropped.

The back of her eyes seemed to starting stinging like it was replicating the aching and small banging feeling that her heart felt, but there were no tears that came flowing out. Perhaps it was already tired of producing such drops that had already dripped down from her eyes for more than several times as the days, weeks, months and years passed by.

Her body couldn't keep up with such overwhelming amount of stress that it started to harm itself in agitation. Having too much Histamines in your body brought such a cursed feeling – a feeling as if you were part of the very unlucky people in the world.

It didn't only make her feel uncomfortable and sick all the time, there was also just this rare instance where she was just extremely unlucky, because she inherited the genetics of having the worst end of this disease compared to her other relatives.

Whatever did I do in my past life to deserve this kind of shit?

A knock coming from the door of her room suddenly sounded, making her jump up slightly in surprise. Then her father spoke, "Are you alright in there, Zumi?"

Without thinking twice, she answered, "Yeah."

_____

i really hate it when
people romanticize
asthma/allergies.

trust me, it isn't cute.

it hurts a lot, there are
days when i can't even
move around or i can't
even take baths cuz
everything is really
painful.

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