I don't own anything!

Very short one shot. Might be kind of rushed since I'm just free styling. Maybe I'll do Mitsuha in another chapter one day since I feel like this one shot is practically canon.

There was a scary, harsh, cruel fact, about life.

Fairytales, in which there were happy endings, didn't exist. Life wasn't a fairytale, in which the princess and the prince lived forever after in their euphoric, already-set-in-stone future. It wasn't a grand comic full of ceaseless action, nor a romance novel either, where the main leads torment themselves to fight for their love.

Sometimes, life didn't have happy endings.

He wish it did.

It didn't matter how long he watched television with the lights off until he finally cried himself to sleep. It didn't matter how awful his take out tasted because he arrived at the store too early and the only nearest open facility was a bento box vending machine. It didn't matter how empty the apartment felt, because all that rang around was silence since the day he no longer talked, and his father was still abroad, though the time for his retirement was nearing.

Nothing mattered, because there was no one to see it at all.

Was this a happy ending?

Taki smiled emptily out of habit to combat his pain, putting down his resume as he watched his index finger throbbing from the slit of the paper. Blood grew from the cut, gleaning at him with their captivating, vibrant colour. His smile grew wider and wider and it was only when he finally felt a nerve nearly bursting in his brain that he let out the first sob, holding a hand to his lips to stop the whimpering. And he told himself over and over again, that he wasn't normal, having a mental breakdown every time he saw his blood.

Red.

It seemed to haunt him everywhere. From the plastic cup he would drink his morning juice from, only to stagger and throw it into the sink, watching the orange fluid drain away with terrified eyes. To laugh hollowly with the interviewers at his recent interview, only to open his eyes and see a red kite soaring through the open sky near the window, causing him to run out of his interview to everyone's confusion. And if he were to be honest with himself, he could've sworn he saw his name on the flying item.

It triggered something in him, and he definitely didn't like that. He considered if he was mentally unstable, often almost succumbing to messaging his good friends on the matter. But he smiled, and decided that he was going to be okay, and he was surely having an trial just like any adult did. He convinced himself that he was strong enough to handle anything, despite the strange occurances that were slowly corrupting him.

When did it begin? Taki stepped onto the subway train and tightened his grip on his briefcase since it had been nearly two days since he last slept. He attempted to backtrack, to try and figure out the reason why his life was taking a downturn.

Was it because he wanted to be an architect? Perhaps that was why he didn't see his high school friends often. His two close friends were uncharacteristically busy ever since they all entered adulthood, but Taki could not blame them. He missed their company, but he was still pleased to discover they were working hard and were going strong in their ambitions.

Then, was it because of himself? He pondered for a moment. He did truly want to be an architect, after seeing the devastation a comet had brought to a town that nearly wiped it off the map eight years ago and was claimed one of the biggest tradegies in history. He was working hard, pulling all nighters whenever he could to present his portfolio, determined to make usage of his degree since he was now a full-fledged twenty-two year old man.

He was happy with his rather bleak, stale life. Or was he? His eyes was glued on his dresshoes as the train began to depart for the next destination.

No... he finally thought.

Something was missing.

Think...think...Why did he sleep in the living room in tears, his head snuggled on a pillow as if it belonged to someone's shoulders?

Try to remember... Why did he always stop in the middle of nowhere whenever he crossed the bridge and saw forests in the distance?

What is it... Why was he feeling empty, deprived of passion, as if something was chaining him back from living?

In front of him, a young boy was reading a picture book. Feeling slightly motion sick from his own thoughts, Taki stared at the cover.

It was an illustration of the mountains.

Itomori.

"Huh?" he suddenly said out loud. "I'm sorry," he asked a man standing next to him, who blinked. "But did you say something?"

The man stared at him strangely. "No."

Taki felt crestfallen. "Oh..." He rubbed his wrist unconsciously. He stared, wondering why he felt as if something should've been resting there. A watch? No, that's not right... he never wore watches. He tried again, thinking hard. What would he wear? A bracelet, perhaps?

In fact... he had a bracelet, did he not?

Taki lifted his head up, realisation hitting him. That's right. He had a lucky charm bracelet. It was orange.

"Orange..." the male repeated. Somehow, he couldn't stop pondering over the bracelet. He felt really weird, as if he was trying to recover a memory. "What did it look like again? Where did I get it?"

He was going to be late for his interview, his destination was at the next stop—but Taki ignored the voice on the intercom and thought, racking his brain, trying to conjure up an image of something—someone—

A fuzzy, blurred image of a girl came into his mind, to his disbelief. Taki shook his head and tried again, but it was no good; the image was zooming in, enlarging, slowly clearing yet he couldn't see her face—

Mitsuha.

"We have arrived," the pleasant female voice announced as the train came to a roaring halt, and passengers began dismounting.

But Taki was frozen, rooted to the spot, his hands shaking, and his eyes following the picture book. In a frenzy, he rummaged his pockets and tore out a pen, his nerves going numb.

Uncapping the lid, he sprawled in a hurry—

Mi—

He stopped.

"No no I just had it!"

He slashed a line.

Miba—

Miba? No... that's not it! Taki swallowed, his eyes unblinking. Why was this so hard?! He just remembered it! How did he forget? How?!

Trembling hands tried again as the train doors shut closed.

Mida—

The image of the girl was fading away...

Nisa—

Taki gritted his teeth, slashing line after line...

Ma—

Continuously cursing under his breath...

Taki

"No, that's my name..." he crossed it out, and then looked at his right hand, completely covered in black ink. "What was it..." the pen was vibrating. "Why can't I remember..."

He sighed, running his left hand through his brown hair as the train moved again, travelling to somewhere. But he didn't care anymore. He should just give up and settle for a part-time job, he thought sadly. Why he was putting such a negative outlook on his own life, he truly had no idea.

Maybe if he stopped thinking so much, then all these strange flashes and emotions would stop.

Taki scrawled on his left hand this time, absentmindedly allowing the ink to sink through and become a temporary part of his flesh.

I really love you.

He stopped the moment he read what he just wrote, his heartbeat pounding again. Why did he write that? He started thinking of a certain colour again—the same colour that kept haunting him.

Why? His eyes scanned the grey, stiff seats. They travelled up to the destination board on the walls. Why? They rested on the windows.

And his eyes saw it.

A red ribbon.

The briefcase fell to the ground with a bang, and footsteps thundered in the train as people yelled out, wondering why a man was pounding on the doors, yanking the emergency exit handle.

The train doors opened forcibly much to the public's anger, but that did not matter. Taki ran, a feeling of pure trepidation yet devastation overriding his body. He felt like jelly, but his heart was racing, his face was flushing, and his eyes were wide and radiating with something beyond hope.

He ran.

Across the bridge, over the waters that reached out boundlessly to the skies and mountains—

He ran.

Life wasn't full of happy endings, in which two starcrossed lovers were destined to meet. Sometimes, in the end, people ran through hell and back, all for nothing.

But he couldn't help but feel, that as soon as he saw the vibrant, red ribbon flowing out from her dark hair...

I think... you are the one I was searching for, all this time.

... it was calling his name.