Happily Ever After Never Happens
All written works displayed are (C) K.E. Wright.
Fandom: Skip Beat!
Teaser: “I threw the first one [dart]. It stuck into the poster between his eyes. I threw the second [dart], and it landed where most people had a heart –but not Shotaru. He didn’t have a heart. I threw the last one [dart]. With a satisfying thwack, the dart imbedded itself into the area where his groin would have been, had the poster been full-sized.”
Inspiration: “White Horse” by Taylor Swift. I’m not a huge fan of hers, but this song totally fits our dear Kyoko. This is officially a song fic, but I like to write them as more “inspired by a particular song” than “forced to fit the parameters of the lyrics with quotes for good measure”.
I’ve read this story’s beginning over and over, and I always get extremely pissed off at Sho. While it’s implied that she breaks down, we –the audience– don’t get to witness it. That’s kind of where this fits.
Rating: T, since you can’t spell “Shotaru without it.
Warnings:
-Mild spoilers (up to chapter 45)
-Angst
-Anger
-[Mild]Violence (remember, children: all Kyoko action figures come with this warning)
-Language
-Self-derision
Main Pairing: (one-sided) Kyoko/Shotaru “Sho” Fuwa
Minor Pairings:
-Taisho/Okami-san
-(perceived) Sho/Shoka (manager)
Setting: Cannon! This fan-fiction is strategically placed between chapters one and two.
POV: Kyoko carries the whole tale, since it’s her angst we’re exploring. (First person perspective).
Summary: Kyoko just found out Sho was using her. She lays awake that night after changing everything about herself, thinking about how she’s never been fairy-tale material, anyway, despite how much she loved them.
Additional ANs: While the actual fan-fiction will take place between chapters one and two, there will be spoilers from chapters 2, 5, 19, 20, and 45 at least. If you are up to date on your reading (I loved the post-190 chapters!), you’ll be fine. Heck, if you have read up past chapter 50, you should be fine.
The spoilers just add character –and coping mechanisms– to the proceedings.
Additional inspiration comes from "Whatever Doesn't Kill Me" by Finger Eleven, especially a certain line of the lyrics which reflects heavily on the first line.
Word Count: 1510 carefully chosen words
Teaser: “I threw the first one [dart]. It stuck into the poster between his eyes. I threw the second [dart], and it landed where most people had a heart –but not Shotaru. He didn’t have a heart. I threw the last one [dart]. With a satisfying thwack, the dart imbedded itself into the area where his groin would have been, had the poster been full-sized.”
Inspiration: “White Horse” by Taylor Swift. I’m not a huge fan of hers, but this song totally fits our dear Kyoko. This is officially a song fic, but I like to write them as more “inspired by a particular song” than “forced to fit the parameters of the lyrics with quotes for good measure”.
I’ve read this story’s beginning over and over, and I always get extremely pissed off at Sho. While it’s implied that she breaks down, we –the audience– don’t get to witness it. That’s kind of where this fits.
Rating: T, since you can’t spell “Shotaru without it.
Warnings:
-Mild spoilers (up to chapter 45)
-Angst
-Anger
-[Mild]Violence (remember, children: all Kyoko action figures come with this warning)
-Language
-Self-derision
Main Pairing: (one-sided) Kyoko/Shotaru “Sho” Fuwa
Minor Pairings:
-Taisho/Okami-san
-(perceived) Sho/Shoka (manager)
Setting: Cannon! This fan-fiction is strategically placed between chapters one and two.
POV: Kyoko carries the whole tale, since it’s her angst we’re exploring. (First person perspective).
Summary: Kyoko just found out Sho was using her. She lays awake that night after changing everything about herself, thinking about how she’s never been fairy-tale material, anyway, despite how much she loved them.
Additional ANs: While the actual fan-fiction will take place between chapters one and two, there will be spoilers from chapters 2, 5, 19, 20, and 45 at least. If you are up to date on your reading (I loved the post-190 chapters!), you’ll be fine. Heck, if you have read up past chapter 50, you should be fine.
The spoilers just add character –and coping mechanisms– to the proceedings.
Additional inspiration comes from "Whatever Doesn't Kill Me" by Finger Eleven, especially a certain line of the lyrics which reflects heavily on the first line.
Word Count: 1510 carefully chosen words
It had finally
quieted down in my head.
When I found out all about Shotaru’s lies, things seemed to bellow and yell out at me. My self-loathing for allowing myself to be used, my lack of a self image, my displeasure in my daily life, my hatred for Shotaru: all of them screamed out for my attention. Since there were only some things I could actually address, I had to put up with the angry noise in my head.
One by one, I handled each thing I could: I broke the lease on the apartment, quit most of my jobs, sold all of the things that had once been my prize possessions, and then I changed myself, at least externally.
I had been so very lucky that Taisho and Okami-san saw more in me than the fool I had been and chose to give me a place to stay. It may have been a small room, but there was a futon and all of my meager belongings fit into it easily. It was generosity that I didn’t deserve, and I was very grateful.
Sighing, I laid back on the futon, my own hands fumbling in the short, foreign-colored hair that was my own. Despite the amount of stripping it had taken to remove so much of the original color, it retained a soft texture that was strangely soothing between my fingers.
I had been lying here, still wide awake, for more than two hours. Okkami-san and Taisho had gone to bed more than an hour ago as well, but I just couldn’t seem to get to sleep. Sitting up suddenly, I let my eyes be drawn to the poster of him¸ my new arch nemesis. Fumbling in the dark, I reached for the darts I had been using. When I came up with three, I started to smile a bit.
I threw the first one. It stuck into the poster between his eyes.
I threw the second, and it landed where most people had a heart –but not Shotaru. He didn’t have a heart.
I threw the last one. With a satisfying thwack, the dart imbedded itself into the area where his groin would have been, had the poster been full-sized.
I smirked for a moment before I felt something warm and wet on my cheek. Frowning, I rubbed my hands across my cheeks and realized with a start that I wasn’t just sitting there stoically: I was crying.
It was strange: I hadn’t felt free to cry when I needed to since I was a little girl. I couldn’t cry in front of Shotaru: he absolutely panicked the instant he saw tears on my face. Because of that, I had learned long ago to hide away when I couldn’t keep the tears in any long.
Sitting up with a sigh, I switched on the lamp. I was tired of pretending I would be able to sleep tonight, anyway.
What madness had ever caused me to believe that he loved me? It wasn’t as though he’d ever said it: all he had done was ask me to come to Tokyo with him. But I had been so elated to be asked, to escape the school where I was bullied for my simple proximity to Sho, to be the girl he’d take with him everywhere.
I mean, sure: he certainly had the face of an angel, but I knew better than anyone what he was really like. He was selfish and mouthy, he needed constant reassurance and praise to sooth his insecurities, and he had no idea how to deal with it when I cried. That was why I’d stopped crying in front of him long ago.
Ah, but through all of it, he definitely knew just when to pull that smile, praise me, and play me.
Each night, I waited for him so earnestly, preparing his favorite meals and paying his rent and just… praying that his dreams would come true and he’d come home to me. I managed to hold on to that nonsensical notion for months, through days that drug on forever as I worked hard enough at three menial jobs to support him in the luxury he desired.
I sighed ruefully, swabbing at the cooling tears on my cheeks with the back of my hand.
My mother was right: I was a stupid girl.
I should have known.
I should have known.
Instead, I had allowed myself to be blinded by the fairy tale I dreamed of having with him. I ignored the fact that he’d rather order me around than touch me because I thought that I was pleasing him with my ‘labors of love’. I worked myself to the bone for him, but I had no idea that the closest thing I had to a friend during childhood –excluding the fairy prince, since such plebian terms hardly applied to royalty of the Other Realm– was using me so ruthlessly, when his record label would have happily provided for a top-seller such as himself, although apparently not as luxuriously as I had.
Speaking of such things, I’d never met that female manager that he’d seemed oh-so-cozy with that night. Hell, I’d never met a single person from his record label, nor had I seen any monetary proof of his success. And it wasn’t as though he’d told me that his label was sending him to high school!
I couldn’t decide which part was the worst part of the whole thing. Was it that he absolutely mangled the dreams that had kept me going through childhood? Was it that I allowed him to do so? Or was it that I had believed myself a princess for a few months, convinced myself that I would finally get a ‘happily’ in my ‘ever after’?
I guess I was naïve about the whole thing. I got so caught up in the fact that he had singled me out and treated me differently from the other girls that I’d never really had an ice-cube’s chance in hell against him. That only solidified my determination to never open my heart to anyone again, because when it comes to love, one person always has the upper hand.
Sighing, I picked up the beautiful stone that the fairy prince had given me. It was funny, but I couldn’t leave it behind in what remained of my past. It wasn’t like the full collection of Sho Fuwa memorabilia that I had sold to by new clothes, new shoes, a handbag, and a brand new hairstyle to complete my new image. The stone, which I had named Corn after the fairy prince who’d given it to me, was just as magic as the prince had told me it was. It had eased me through all of my troubles since that day. It didn’t seem to be making any headway with this crisis, but that was by no fault of the stone. Perhaps I had relieved too heavily on the stone’s magic in the past and had depleted it.
I used the edge of my blanket and dried away all of my tears as I thought back to the day I had received the stone. It had been a bad day for me and I couldn’t keep all of the tears inside anymore. So I had hidden away in my usual hiding place: the secluded pool in the woods that no one ever else ever came to gaze at. I had sat down on a boulder and allowed my tears to flow. I had been so startled when I had realized that there was someone there aside from me!
He had been positively beautiful, with bronzed skin and blond hair that the sun danced in. he’d been older than I was, a kind and wonderful listener who had gone out of his way to make me feel better about my day. Then he’d shown me how to fly. I had been delighted, yet unable to follow his directions and fly myself. He had given me the stone as a charm to keep my sadness away, and I had always kept my treasure hidden away from everyone. The fairy prince had forever stayed my secret.
I rubbed the smooth, bluish stone against my cheek lightly and closed my eyes for an instant, allowing myself to dream again for just one moment. Was it possible that I might ever find someone who treated me as well as that fairy prince had on that day? I mean, it was a big world, and I was about to dive into show business head-first to get my revenge against Shotaru.
I shook my head to shake out such silly notions and daydreams before pulling my heavy grudge closer to my heart.
No. I would never allow myself to ever fall in love again.
Nor would I ever forgive Shotaru Fuwa for what he did to me.
The closest I would get to ‘happily ever after’ would be the fairy prince I knew still watched over me.
Happily ever after never happens, anyway.
When I found out all about Shotaru’s lies, things seemed to bellow and yell out at me. My self-loathing for allowing myself to be used, my lack of a self image, my displeasure in my daily life, my hatred for Shotaru: all of them screamed out for my attention. Since there were only some things I could actually address, I had to put up with the angry noise in my head.
One by one, I handled each thing I could: I broke the lease on the apartment, quit most of my jobs, sold all of the things that had once been my prize possessions, and then I changed myself, at least externally.
I had been so very lucky that Taisho and Okami-san saw more in me than the fool I had been and chose to give me a place to stay. It may have been a small room, but there was a futon and all of my meager belongings fit into it easily. It was generosity that I didn’t deserve, and I was very grateful.
Sighing, I laid back on the futon, my own hands fumbling in the short, foreign-colored hair that was my own. Despite the amount of stripping it had taken to remove so much of the original color, it retained a soft texture that was strangely soothing between my fingers.
I had been lying here, still wide awake, for more than two hours. Okkami-san and Taisho had gone to bed more than an hour ago as well, but I just couldn’t seem to get to sleep. Sitting up suddenly, I let my eyes be drawn to the poster of him¸ my new arch nemesis. Fumbling in the dark, I reached for the darts I had been using. When I came up with three, I started to smile a bit.
I threw the first one. It stuck into the poster between his eyes.
I threw the second, and it landed where most people had a heart –but not Shotaru. He didn’t have a heart.
I threw the last one. With a satisfying thwack, the dart imbedded itself into the area where his groin would have been, had the poster been full-sized.
I smirked for a moment before I felt something warm and wet on my cheek. Frowning, I rubbed my hands across my cheeks and realized with a start that I wasn’t just sitting there stoically: I was crying.
It was strange: I hadn’t felt free to cry when I needed to since I was a little girl. I couldn’t cry in front of Shotaru: he absolutely panicked the instant he saw tears on my face. Because of that, I had learned long ago to hide away when I couldn’t keep the tears in any long.
Sitting up with a sigh, I switched on the lamp. I was tired of pretending I would be able to sleep tonight, anyway.
What madness had ever caused me to believe that he loved me? It wasn’t as though he’d ever said it: all he had done was ask me to come to Tokyo with him. But I had been so elated to be asked, to escape the school where I was bullied for my simple proximity to Sho, to be the girl he’d take with him everywhere.
I mean, sure: he certainly had the face of an angel, but I knew better than anyone what he was really like. He was selfish and mouthy, he needed constant reassurance and praise to sooth his insecurities, and he had no idea how to deal with it when I cried. That was why I’d stopped crying in front of him long ago.
Ah, but through all of it, he definitely knew just when to pull that smile, praise me, and play me.
Each night, I waited for him so earnestly, preparing his favorite meals and paying his rent and just… praying that his dreams would come true and he’d come home to me. I managed to hold on to that nonsensical notion for months, through days that drug on forever as I worked hard enough at three menial jobs to support him in the luxury he desired.
I sighed ruefully, swabbing at the cooling tears on my cheeks with the back of my hand.
My mother was right: I was a stupid girl.
I should have known.
I should have known.
Instead, I had allowed myself to be blinded by the fairy tale I dreamed of having with him. I ignored the fact that he’d rather order me around than touch me because I thought that I was pleasing him with my ‘labors of love’. I worked myself to the bone for him, but I had no idea that the closest thing I had to a friend during childhood –excluding the fairy prince, since such plebian terms hardly applied to royalty of the Other Realm– was using me so ruthlessly, when his record label would have happily provided for a top-seller such as himself, although apparently not as luxuriously as I had.
Speaking of such things, I’d never met that female manager that he’d seemed oh-so-cozy with that night. Hell, I’d never met a single person from his record label, nor had I seen any monetary proof of his success. And it wasn’t as though he’d told me that his label was sending him to high school!
I couldn’t decide which part was the worst part of the whole thing. Was it that he absolutely mangled the dreams that had kept me going through childhood? Was it that I allowed him to do so? Or was it that I had believed myself a princess for a few months, convinced myself that I would finally get a ‘happily’ in my ‘ever after’?
I guess I was naïve about the whole thing. I got so caught up in the fact that he had singled me out and treated me differently from the other girls that I’d never really had an ice-cube’s chance in hell against him. That only solidified my determination to never open my heart to anyone again, because when it comes to love, one person always has the upper hand.
Sighing, I picked up the beautiful stone that the fairy prince had given me. It was funny, but I couldn’t leave it behind in what remained of my past. It wasn’t like the full collection of Sho Fuwa memorabilia that I had sold to by new clothes, new shoes, a handbag, and a brand new hairstyle to complete my new image. The stone, which I had named Corn after the fairy prince who’d given it to me, was just as magic as the prince had told me it was. It had eased me through all of my troubles since that day. It didn’t seem to be making any headway with this crisis, but that was by no fault of the stone. Perhaps I had relieved too heavily on the stone’s magic in the past and had depleted it.
I used the edge of my blanket and dried away all of my tears as I thought back to the day I had received the stone. It had been a bad day for me and I couldn’t keep all of the tears inside anymore. So I had hidden away in my usual hiding place: the secluded pool in the woods that no one ever else ever came to gaze at. I had sat down on a boulder and allowed my tears to flow. I had been so startled when I had realized that there was someone there aside from me!
He had been positively beautiful, with bronzed skin and blond hair that the sun danced in. he’d been older than I was, a kind and wonderful listener who had gone out of his way to make me feel better about my day. Then he’d shown me how to fly. I had been delighted, yet unable to follow his directions and fly myself. He had given me the stone as a charm to keep my sadness away, and I had always kept my treasure hidden away from everyone. The fairy prince had forever stayed my secret.
I rubbed the smooth, bluish stone against my cheek lightly and closed my eyes for an instant, allowing myself to dream again for just one moment. Was it possible that I might ever find someone who treated me as well as that fairy prince had on that day? I mean, it was a big world, and I was about to dive into show business head-first to get my revenge against Shotaru.
I shook my head to shake out such silly notions and daydreams before pulling my heavy grudge closer to my heart.
No. I would never allow myself to ever fall in love again.
Nor would I ever forgive Shotaru Fuwa for what he did to me.
The closest I would get to ‘happily ever after’ would be the fairy prince I knew still watched over me.
Happily ever after never happens, anyway.