(AN) Welcome to my first Hamtaro fanficion! I finally got the courage to write something and post it! This was just a random thought that came to me when I was bored. xD
Everything in italicized text are thoughts, words not said aloud.

Enjoy, and feel free to review and say how you like it when you finish!

Let It Go (Chapter 1)

The day was warm, sunny, a great day to meet up with friends. The Ham-Hams loved to meet up at their clubhouse. They are always a fun-loving, outgoing, maybe a bit aberrant, group. A bit of bickering here and there, but they're all still great friends through and through.

The group was pretty talkative that day. So many different conversations, about so many different things. A few were standing, making exaggerated movements to make their conversations more alive, others sat and listened, a few laughing, others joining in. They're trying very hard to keep their conversations going, hoping they won't die down. Someone, however, wasn't happy. He did not engage in their conversations, in their activities. Rather, he decided to hide himself in the clubhouse. Stan just didn't feel like facing them.

He really needed sympathy, comfort. He couldn't bear to ask for the comfort he needed. Not because he didn't want them to think him as weak or unmanly, he didn't care about that. But more because he kept telling himself he just didn't need it. He knows he needs it, but he doesn't want to admit it.

He fiddled with the soft dirt that caked the ground as he listened to their many conversations. Their happy, fun, exciting stories filled his ears, his mind, however, not thinking a thing of those pointless words. Did they really not notice he wasn't there? Did they purposely not acknowledge his absence?

Ingrates.

Stan felt more emotional pain enter his poor little heart. He began to nervously dig at the dirt beside him again, but a bit more vigorously than before. He stopped and brushed off his paws as soon as the clubhouse behind the wall went dead silent. What happened? Had they finally realized they were missing a body?

...

No. Of course not. Turns out Howdy had just told a terrible joke again, like always, as they had just resumed their previous conversations. Stan sulked again. He continued to feel the knife at his chest as he sat there in thought. He decided to lift his paw, and drag his claws through his arm as to make the pain shift from his heart to his skin. It wasn't working.

Why won't it end?

After he had sat there for as long as his patience could take, he finally stood up and entered the main room of the clubhouse. He had thought a lot had gone home. He was wrong. Everyone looked at him. Their eyes pierced his skin like a knife.

Were they mad?

No. Just shocked. Eventually, a few asked aloud where he'd been, others asked if he was alright. But he just didn't answer, he couldn't. He stared back at them. He proceeded to nod his head in agreement, showing that he's fine, without uttering a single sound. Why haven't they left? What time was it?

It was still daylight outside. Oh how slowly time moved for him. The clubhouse now knew where he hides, so he's stuck sitting out in the open with them. He knew he could go home, it's not like they forced him to stay. But they would worry if I left so suddenly. At least, I hope they would..

He had sat in deep thought for a while, longer than he thought. He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Boss's voice. "Stan." Hearing his name, he looked up at the former, sitting in his usual chair. "Are you okay?" He asks, apparently for the second time. Stan almost glared at him. What a dumb question. He thought. You should know full well I'm less than 'okay'.

He stayed silent in his conversations with himself. Boss tilted his head, a look of concern swept across his face. He continued to look at the silent hamster sitting across from him. The others sitting around them were inclined to make a statement, but almost felt as if this would be a bad idea.

"I'm fine." He finally spoke for the first time that day. His voice was unenthusiastic and dry. Stan just wanted to leave. He stood up and tried to make his way for the door, but Boss's voice stopped him once again. "Wait." He says, as he stands from his chair. He moves closer to Stan, asking him to face him. Wondering what he had to say, Stan turned to face him as asked.

"I know you're hurting, Stan," Boss began hesitantly, "but sulking and avoiding social contact isn't going to help the cause. It's not the answer. The past is the past and you have to let it go."

Let it go.

Stan felt enraged at this. How could he put in the past such an important event? Something so shocking. So memorable. His rage died a bit as more sadness flowed through him. Boss saw Stan's expressions and immediately regretted saying what he did. He wanted to apologize, but no words came out. Stan's sad expression silenced him.

Meanwhile, not a single soul in the room uttered forth a single sound more than their own silent breathing.

So, how was it? If you like it, feel free to drop a review and maybe a favourite or follow if you like! If I get enough good reviews, I'll continue it, because trust me, I do want this to be more than a oneshot. xD

Next chapter will review what happened before all of this. owo

Remember to keep your flames and hate to yourself or to someone who cares about that stuff! But if there are any significant spelling mistakes, you can tell me. Bye for now! :D