Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ Yui's Philosiphy ❯ Chapter one: Pessimism ( Chapter 1 )
"Yui's Philosophy"
By: Yui Hongo
Chapter one: Pessimism
You know what I've realized? That no matter how hard you try, everything comes out futile in the end. Sort of a pessimistic outlook on life, ne? Well, that's not too hard to identify with…think about it for a second. Remember the time when you were running around in your grandma's house, and broke that old porcelain vase? So you pieced it back together, right?
I can see you shaking your head now. No, you say. Yui, you're wrong. But alas…I am right. You took several hours to fix it…and then your sibling broke it again, right? But Yui, you say, that's just one incident. It might be, my friend, but apply it to other situations. You practiced drawing every day as a child, spent too much to describe of your own pocket money on lessons…and still never got to be an artist. You were punctual, perfect…but where did you turn up? In a living hell.
Scowl at me if you must. I'm no idiot; I can tell about you by looking…it's a power I have inherited from Nagako. He taught me. He taught me everything…no? You don't think so? Well, who cares what you think! Nagako isn't betraying me, nor is he lying. He is my friend, my teacher, and nearly my life. Well…should I correct that? Do I even have a life?
I wish I didn't. I wish that I could bestow revenge on Miaka, and then perhaps lie in eternal and blissful sleep. Why do I need this? Let me pose a very personal question to YOU for a second…what would you do if your heart was broken? What would you do if you sunk so low that suicide was the only answer?
And you say to me, Yui, suicide is never the only option. Well, yes. Yes it is. I can see that you're scared…and what is so scary about me brandishing a knife under your nose? What is so scary about me screaming at you to shut up? And you're shaking, and I'm laughing…and then Nagako comes in…and does nothing about it.
He does nothing about me, threatening to kill myself…he does nothing about me, tossing the knife up in the air, and catching it by the handle-an accident waiting to happen…he does nothing about me, screaming and laughing and everything else I can think of at the moment. And in a second, through my tears of rage and pessimism and depression, I can see that he doesn't care.
And that's when reality gave me a nice big slap in the face.
The mark is still there, no doubt…I still feel embarrassed for ever being led astray, for ever being blinded by my own anger. But I'm different now, and that's really what matters, right? I'm not suicidal (that word sounds so strange to me now) and I'm not so dense. I'm in love! Though with whom you won't find out. Nagako was tricking me…I believed in him so strongly, though, and I still think about him a lot…and wonder if he meant to fake everything.
After believing in something so firmly, and grasping onto it as if I was a small child dependent on it's mother's milk…it seems that I can't let go. I just can't let go.