[ a/n aaa this took so long im sorry
:( ] 

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BEFORE I MENTIONED THAT I WANT TO BE WHISKED UP TO THE HEAVENS.

that wish still remains. i think, deep down, we all wished to be spirited away into the land which we are told would grant us eternal life and happiness. i think we just all would like to escape from the miserable life so many of us experience during our time on earth.

gokana wishes that same as me. and since we do not have wings to fly into the clouds, we look for other ways to be close to the sky. 

like this rooftop.

it is the highest area of fukurodani academy, the closest to the clouds i have been. up here, we can see in such detail the white strokes against the blue canvas, making up art that we find so enchanting. they are drifting, no, we are drifting away and it creates such a serene feeling even though the earth is hurtling through space at thirty kilometers per second.

so that is why on afternoons like this one,  after school, gokana and i study up here on the rooftop, textbooks and pens laid strewn across the blanket which gokana brought from home so we could study in comfort.

which is what i am doing right now. i can't say the same for gokana. she is posing, angled in a way so that she's taking full advantage of the afternoon sun. her phone is out, and she's sending several snaps like the socialite she is.

when she sees my raised eyebrows she says, "you can't expect me to study and miss out on this lighting! come on, ona-chan, it's one of the first days of school and you've been studying for hours. have a break!"

before i can open my mouth and tell her that it hasn't been hours, but rather a mere fifteen minutes, the door to the rooftop flies open.

gokana freezes, and both our eyes land on the door, expecting a regimented teacher to come up and tell us off like they have been doing for the past two years (we ignored their scoldings, obviously).

but instead of a teacher, four students emerge onto the rooftop. the one standing in front is a boy with a muscular build, spiky hair and golden eyes. besides him is the only second-year out of the people on this rooftop, though i know his maturity exceeds everybody's. and rounding up the group are two pretty girls, each holding a small notebook and pen. 

bokuto, akaashi, kaori and yukie.

all members of the fukurodani men's volleyball team. 

"hey hey hey!" bokuto immediately bursts into his signature greeting.

kaori and yukie both exchange exasperated sighs before waving hello to me and gokana.

"good afternoon, wakara-san, nakamura-san," akaashi respectfully nods towards us, his black hair rustling from the motion. i simply nod back at him. 

gokana then goes on to tell akaashi to stop being so polite and the other girls reprimand bokuto for being so loud in an area that we aren't supposed to be in. 

and for a second, i wonder, how on earth i am friends with all these people (well, i'm not close enough to kaori and yukie to call them friends but at least they're tolerable and don't look at me in outrageous fear). like my friendship with gokana, it is unexpected.

but i think all my friendships are unexpected, because nobody would expect that i, i,

[a monster],

have friends.

i met the four through gokana. kaori and yukie were in my class last year, and they were quite close to gokana. bokuto and gokana used to date way back when we were first years (they broke up since gokana lost feelings, but they're still on good terms), and from bokuto we met akaashi.

but even if gokana didn't intertwine our lives together, there is something else that would have.

volleyball.

"wakara-chan! gokana-chan!" bokuto approaches us with a massive grin on his face. "guess what? i've been made captain this year. on top of ace! and akaashi is my vice-captain!"

"that's amazing, koutaro-kun," gokana applauds him before also breaking into a big smile. "i knew you could do it. same to you, akaashi-kun!"

kaori snaps her fingers. "that reminds me. wakara-chan, nakamura-chan, could you possibly help hand out some flyers tomorrow? yukie and i need to look for our replacements for next year."

"of course!" gokana beams and i nod alongside her. 

"by the way," bokuto glances at me. "do you reckon your cousin will defeat shiratorizawa this year?"

this questions takes me back to last month, the last time in miyagi, in which hajime and i spent our time lazing around his house. i recall one evening with a breeze rather cool for summer. the stars were out and shining along with the moon, their combined light making its way into my aunt and uncle's living room. 

i recall lying on the couch, asking hajime why he trains so much. then he explained that he wanted to defeat shiratorizawa and his best friend's long time nemesis.

and i recall his eyes burning bright with determination.

"of course," i say matter-of-factly.

"i hope so," bokuto grins and looks at akaashi. "at nationals, i really want to have a chance to go against wakara-chan's cousin and his setter oikawa tooru."

and the mention of the last name, the girls (with the exception of me) exchange excited looks. then i recall yet another conversation with hajime, in which he explained that he never let me meet his best friend because he thinks oikawa tooru most likely would end up being a womanizer in the future.

he is a player, i know that for sure from that time in second year in which, after texting gokana for a month, he left her on delivered and ignored her presence. and yet gokana still has a mild crush on the captain of aoba johsai men's volleyball team.

"have you seen him on the covers of volleyball weekly?" gokana gushes. "he's so hot."

"oh, i do hope that we go against him in nationals," yukie agrees with bokuto's previous statement, but for different reasons. then she and kaori glance at each other and share a laugh.

the conversation and laughter is cut short when bokuto yelps. "we have training today!"

"oh shoot!" kaori shrieks. "coach is going to kill us!"

even akaashi is alarmed. "we need to go, bokuto-san!"

in a flash, the four had disappeared from the rooftop, leaving the door to the rooftop swung open and the sound of conversation is replaced by silence. i glance at gokana. all signs of her previous happiness from the conversation is gone, besides a faint blush from talking about oikawa, and now she's scrolling through her tiktok as if i wasn't there. 

i try not to feel too ignored as i returned to studying. 

half an hour passes and i'm on my third paragraph of an essay when gokana speaks, "you know, i heard that you were being rude to akihiro-kun."

this name is vaguely familiar, but no face is conjured up into my mind when gokana says that name. i frown. "is he an underclassman?"

"he's in our class, kichona," gokana sighs exasperatedly. "kinda short, brown hair, and blue eyes?"

my mind is still blank, and it's evident on my face because gokana then goes on and continues to explain. "we were talking in class today and he told me you were glaring at him really harshly in the hallway about two weeks ago."

"oh," realization dawns upon me. "that kid."

i sense an argument brewing. 

"and you know, you were being quite rude to mieko too," gokana makes eye-contact with me, her grey eyes sharp. "they're both my friends, kichona. and i don't like how you act so cold with them."

"and i don't like how they act so scared around me," i scoff. 

"they act scared because you're so damn rude to them sometimes! glaring at them for no reason!"

i merely stare at her. "what, you forgot how their parents do the same to me? how your parents do the exact same to me? because of that incident, everyone expects me to be this disrespectful, cunning girl. is it so bad that i'm fulfulling their expectations?"

"you don't have to fulfill their expectations," gokana says, as if it was as easy as breathing. "just stop acting like everyone else is beneath you. stop acting like a queen."

i nearly laughed. "but gokana, i am a queen."

"just because you have some supernatural powers doesn't mean you're a queen," gokana clenches her hands, and her cheeks redden again but from anger now. "same with your family heritage. if anything you're a prin-"

memories of pink and sweet things flash. 

"we love you, princess."

i stand up, gathering my things and walking to the door to the rooftop, ready to exit. 

"don't. call. me. that."

gokana exhales loudly, standing up now also. "you know, i'm trying to help you. i just want you to break free of the darkness. it's ruining your life and you're proud of it. you think it makes you a queen! you wear it as if it's a crown when it's a prison."

it was my turn to clench my hands. when i spoke it was a hoarse whisper that gokana,

[the person who had told the truth i have been trying to desperately hide from myself for so long],

could barely hear. "you think i don't know that?"

and so, like i always do, i run. i run to avoid gokana's harsh words which are really just telling the truth. 

i run from the truth. 

and when i get into the busy part of the neighborhood, i run from the stares which bring back the painful, painful incident. 

[but not as painful as the memories gokana brings up with the word princess.]

i stop running when i reach the house, and by then, my chest is trembling slightly and it's difficult to breathe. and i know it's not from running all the way from school to here.

i open the door to the house rather loudly, but mother is still in her eerie state so i know the sound won't bother her. i find my way to my bedroom, only pausing to take off my school shoes. 

then, making sure i lock the door, i slide my back against it until i'm on the cold floor, cradling my legs. 

"you were it as if it's a crown when it's a prison."

with those few words, gokana has unintentionally unveiled and unleashed a chaos of emotions that had previously been held back only by my lies. my lies, my glamorous and pretty letters strung together to form the words 'queen' and 'strong'. 

i am not a queen.

[i am a princess.]

i am not strong.

[i am weak]

"we love you, princess."

and with those few words that will be forever engraved into my memory, i have unveiled and unleashed another chaos of emotions.

and suddenly, a torrent of tears are itching to surface, tethering on the edge of my eyelids and threatening to cascade down my face. but i will not cry.

[i will absolutely not show that i am weak.]

i'm about to tell myself some more beautiful crafted lies to lure myself into my own spellbinding trap when my phone vibrates in my pocket.

i only have a phone to keep up with the world news and the weather. i don't have any games, social media apps or anyone's numbers. nobody calls me and i call nobody. 

so this piques my curiosity and, even though i am somewhat wary of the mysterious caller, i answer, relieved for the distraction.

"hello?"

my brows furrow. this voice is not what i had expected; it was strangely familiar. not because i recognize the owner of this voice, but rather the emptiness and hollowness of the voice. i can tell that the voice belongs to a teenage boy about my age, but the severity of the loneliness in the voice almost tricked me into thinking that he was older.

"hi," i respond quietly.

"are you okay?" the person immediately asks.

i wipe my eyes, willing for the red blotches to go away. "i'll be fine. i should by asking you that, anyways."

"that's why i called you," the person admits. "i just need someone to talk about my problems with. just anyone. that's why i just called a random number. s-sorry if i'm being a bother."

"you're not," i shake my head even though he can't see. i smile bitterly. "i'm just the wrong person to help you."

"no, no, no, you're not," the person disagrees. "i...i just need you to listen."

he says that last sentence so desperately, i can't help but oblige.

[it's not just that, i oblige because i like that he needs me. i like the feeling of somebody needing you.]

"go on, then."

then he rants, painting a tale of frustration at himself in my head. how he can't seem to win in the sport he loves no matter how much dedication he puts into. how not only the top team seems to win every time, but how he fears the day in which his previous upperclassman surpasses him.

i realize that he too has a crown. and it is funny, because we both seem to keep on clinging on to the very thing that gives us pain. i cling on to the darkness because, even though it brings me despair, it gives me something.

i would rather be the girl with darkness than the girl with emptiness. 

[and also, i do not deserve to break free of the darkness. like my father said, i am a monster and i do not deserve to have the freedom of light.]

[i deserve the cages of darkness.]