Post by Densetsu Karu on May 23, 2015 21:41:11 GMT -6
The following takes place on May 23, 2003, at 3:19 PM. This entire post is an inside joke, so the punchline may not make much sense.
The day had come to an end. Students flowed out of the school building, returning to their lives beyond the stronghold of education. Tomorrow was only a half-day of school, so the week was essentially over. For the seniors, it only marked the next stage of the week: rigorous studying. For first-years, however, the prospect of a day off was more lax. Relief was visible on the faces of Karu's fellows. For he, however, there was not a grin, smile, smirk, nor even a sparkle in his eyes. Karu's eyes were empty and soulless, his expression filled with dread. The weekend marked an empty period of time. There were no distractions for the Legendary Hero. No peace. Only emptiness.
To make matters worse, his mind could not help but jump to the curious dreams he had been having as of late. They were all about his life at school. Horrid creatures with the faces of his friends and enemies showed up, creating a sequence of events so dramatic that he was sure they belonged in a badly-written anime made to pander to an overbearing and creepy demographic. The creatures took the forms of Yasuda, Aizawa, and many others he had met over his time in Japan. They became infallibly hungry for a false sense of love, but whether by design or accident they only succeeded in generating a sense of lust. Even he succumbed to the darkness, becoming a shallow lustful creature just like them. The images of his dreams burned into his memory, threatening to destroy any peace of mind he had left.
He sighed loudly as he exited the school building -- a few onlookers were whispering to each other about him. He had made a horrible mistake in the past. In effort to disarm one of his enemies, he used an act of strong intimacy as his tool. It had been a double-edged sword: his enemy was humiliated, but his own reputation was shattered. He could barely speak to anyone without the matter being brought up, and the rumours of his actions spread quickly along the student body. Well, at the very least, among those in his own class. He silently cursed his past self for acting so recklessly back then.
Still, what he had done to Aizawa-san was nowhere near as horrible as what he had done in his dreams. The dreams had been haunting him all week, each night worse than the last. Many images were burned into his memory from his prevalent nightmares, but one in particular was unshakable. It rose to the forefront of his mind constantly. It was a horror that no human should behold, and yet he was the one tasked with its burdening image. Every time the image came to mind, he wanted to laugh. Not out of mirth, nay; his urge for laughter was of a sickly loss. The image reminded him of everything he had come to hate in school, and possibly even in life altogether -- the laughter that stemmed from it had no happiness in it. Only sorrow. It was because of that Person's image that he would never be the same again.