This was inspired by an excerpt I read from Annie Dillard’s The Writing Life. I recommend it.

All disclaimers apply.

Wings

“Nearby, the real, living butterfly opens and closes her wings in vain.”

– Annie Dillard

Echizen Ryoma loved Ryuzaki Sakuno.

He loved everything about her: her long, obtrusive pigtails, her unbent, stiff knees, her nervous stuttering, her weak demeanor. He loved how she was present at all his games, how she cheered so hard that she came to school with a sore throat the next day, how she kept practicing in her own game so someday she can play with him, too. He loved how she was so shy around him, how she blushed when she handed him a bento, how much she made him want to protect her.

Most of all, he loved her because she seemed to loved him more than he could ever want her to.

Sakuno was the meek, little butterfly that fluttered her wings around Ryoma, the one who wished to give a small dash of variety in his normally monochromatic life, the one who flew around him, trying so hard for him to notice her, flaunting the few colors that her small wings carried.

And he didn’t.

Because Ryoma, in turn, loved tennis more than anything else. Tennis was the beginning of Ryoma’s world, and he wanted it to be the last. It was more important to him than life itself. In fact, tennis was his life. And without it, he could only see death.

Tennis gave him nothing more to ask for – the exhilarating feel of the game, the challenge set by his opponents, the sweetness of victory. And the fact that in tennis, what you see is what you get. He never has to try hard and guess because sooner or later, you’ll figure everything out. He loved it all and he breathed tennis like it was air, and these were his reasons for living.

Tennis was the big, butterfly ornament in a store sign made out of plastic, and it caught his eye because tennis, even though it wasn’t real, was bigger than he is, and bigger than the little old butterfly could ever be.

Echizen Ryoma loved Ryuzaki Sakuno, but it wasn’t anything that he could ever compare to tennis. Because with Sakuno, he always wasn’t sure if she felt the same.

That was why he thought of leaving. To tell her goodbye, and that only if she tried harder to spread her wings and show him how beautiful she could be, only if she could TELL him that she was there, he would realize that a little butterfly existed to make him happy, that there is more to living than tennis.

But the butterfly had let him go without telling him anything, and with that, there was no going back.

That was enough reason for him to go.

Fin.

Footnotes:

Annie Dillard’s The Writing Life, according to www(dot)powells(dot)com:

With color, irony and sensitivity, Pulitzer prize-winner Annie Dillard illuminates the dedication absurdity, and daring that is the writer's life. As it probes and exposes, examines and analyzes, The Writing Life offers deeper insight into one of the most mysterious of professions.

A/N: This was something to help me out of the writer’s block I’m in. I hope you don’t find this really stupid and emotional. I guess I’m very sad these days and I have to let it out somehow. I’ll be really happy hearing what you thought about this. Thank you so much for reading! -neko11lover

P.S. Thank you for everyone who voted in my poll. I started on a project to improve characterization and it's really hard so I'm sorry if you won't see improvements quickly. But I promise you that I'll do my best on this project. I encourage other people to still vote, I'm really trying to learn from all your comments. :)