Disclaimer: Damnit, I don't effing own Slam Dunk, and I got no money outta this!

Voices of Light

It was reaching the nearest signal to a very late evening on the dark skies of Atsugi city, Kanagawa prefecture. Amongst the many existences of apartments in the area, one particular building of the said type held another story to unfold behind the walls of its fourteenth floor.

Enter Room 149.

Residence of a woman named Asayake Kiyomi, who was standing calmly on her unit's balcony with the entrance sliding door widely opened, revealing the minimalist design of a typical Japanese urban structural domicile. It's completed by the space-efficiency and conceptually compact furniture occupying each of its designated locations.

She has a darkly tinted auburn hair that sinuously danced with the brush of the cool autumn wind. Her svelte, slightly athletic body wrapped loosely in a white, long sleeved shirt and a black, semi-mermaid cut dress that fell onto her bare ankles. Her pale, peach lips completed the decors of apathy descended at her visage, rending what's left out of a supposed Nippon beauty.

Tsuki no kakurega de motomeau

Kanjitoruno wa sadame no setsunasa yo.1

Silence was what she had drown into, but the loud music of L'Arc en Ciel's "Finale" from the activated stereo was stretched to the very corners of the room, probably even to the length of disturbing her neighbors. Despite her genuine selfless persona, at that moment, she opted for her own heed. A two paged letter was put down with a paper weight on the nearest table, its contents explicated a few lengthy lines which told a particular condition she underwent, meant for people to read.

Shinobiyoru kehai fusaidate

Oitsumerareta urei no kuchimoto ni fureta.2

People, meaning those who would discover the reason for her suicide later on, that is.

Once she'd hit the concrete ground beneath her, they would start asking questions and enquire her identity almost simultaneously, so it's only proper that she'd save them the trouble. She considered it as a casual code of ethics in committing a fatality on her own life, as what others had done before.

Her indoor slippers aside, she started to take hold of the balcony's handrail with both her hands. Gripping it tightly as she inhaled the nocturnal air deeply to her lungs and slowly exhaled, her shoulders relaxed and she braced her right feet to the brim for an impact. The dress didn't seem to have bothered her leg's flexibility as she successfully suspended almost half her body weight to the inner balustrades' wall. She inhaled once more before quickly holding her breath as her body leaned forward, exceeding the handrails' perimeter.

"This is it," she thought as she breathed out, "This is when the hurt stops."

It would only take one more, slightly forceful nudge from the elbows for her to finally be thrown off from the balcony's edge and into a free fall downwards. An effortless attempt for a cause so burdened with vital outcome, and she had this cooked in mind under enough timing to decide something contradictory, instead.

Kono ude no naka de mezameyuku

Kimi no kanashimi ga tada kanashikute.3

"Why the hell did you choose this song tonight?!" a man's voice ruptured through the stereo's speakers as the song's volume was lowered dramatically. It was then revealed that it wasn't a CD or any records, but merely the radio which had presented the darkly melancholic J-Rock song earlier instead.

Kuroshii made ni koishitau

Itsumademo soba ni ite hanarerarenu you ni.4

She gasped. Her eyes blinked. Before she knew it, a strong gush of wind forcefully blown her face and chest in an impact that left her no choice but to be openly vulnerable, causing her grip on the handrail be released, and ultimately pushed her whole body back to the safer part of the balcony in a drop that caused series of stinging pain on her backside.

"Ack!" she squealed as the mighty brunt lingered on her inflicted body parts. Arched in between the fiber-glass sliding door and the base of the platform, Asayake struggled to return the harmony of her breath as cold sweat slowly coming out of her temples and forehead, and trickled down to the sides of her pale cheeks. She didn't try to move away from the spot while her hazel eyes were fixed at an uncertain mark ahead.

"It's really, really depressing to hear during these hours! Laruku is awesome, but better if you put something horny instead, got it?" the man said again, while gradually fading off the remnants of the previous song, "Like this!"

A familiar intro guitar tune of Ken Hirai's "TABOO" finally took over, filling up her apartment's space with a contradictory atmosphere. As she remained almost motionless, the seemingly demanding male radio host continued his on-air banter after gradually lowering the song he's just played to a background music-leveled volume.

"See that? Instead of committing suicides, people would get laid instead!" he proudly stated, inviting an inevitable retort from his DJ music director.

"Hisa-kun, you shouldn't let your libido host the show…" suggested the lighter, more submissive sounding radio personnel.

"Eh? But it's a manly enthusiasm-deshou ka?" the now discovered identity, "Hisa-kun", countered rather bluntly with a flat tone.

"Your standard of manly enthusiasm is incomprehensible!"

"Maa, shikashi… "

"Don't ignore me!" fumed the obviously offended music director.

"It's really important to be positive minded during each critical moments of our life." The Hisa-named person went on, nonchalantly disregarding his counterpart's protest, "I've lived off two years of my life being aimless and angry at the world, hurting people, hurting my own friends, hurting myself even to the point of taking my own life!"

Back to room 149's balcony, a stoic-poised Asayake Kiyomi jolted a nerve at her veinal structure upon hearing the most situational-related statement that was just blasted off from the stereo's speakers.

"…Whenever I look back, I'm always thankful to Kami-sama for that second chance given to me..." he continued reminiscing, "And to top it off, I got a bunch of great and remarkable people that I'm just more than proud of being friends with at the end."

"So desu-ne, dakara…" his corresponding person trailed off in his respond.

"Dakara mou…" the radio host carried on, "Sex, is always a better option for stress management."

"Omae-wa hentai-yarou…"

As the casual repartee between those two radio-personnel faded off to Ken Hirai's promiscuous tale of lustful betrayal, a particular dark auburn haired woman remained unmoved at the floor of her unit's balcony. With a reflexive effort, her breath recovered its pace. More beads of sweat went dripping down the sides of her flushed face while the chilly breeze felt more as if it's trying to revive the vestiges of her self-awareness. It took a mere three seconds for her to finally break down in tears and regained the sanity that had lingered long enough to finally be rediscovered.

Deep in her heart, she began a quest of longing to reach the unknowing man whose voice had saved her life.


1 "In the moon's hiding place. Searching taking in the pain of fate."

2 "The worry draw wear unnoticed stands in the way driven to the wall. Touched by the entrance of sadness."

3 "In these arms awakening. Your sadness is nothing but so sad."

4 "Before the point of maddening, I yearn for you. Always be by my side, so I'll never be separated from you."

Ah, well. Why Atsugi city? I'll explain later. Please do be kind enough to read and post reviews? I'll send some steaks over! Thank youuuuuuuu... mwah, mwah!