//Author Stuff//: I read about this scene in A Wonderful Life where if you marry a girl and one or both of the other girls have four or five hearts and you went through all of their heart events then they will come to you all sad like and pretty much rub your meaniness in your face. I think Muffy goes into the whole, "So you were just playing with me" routine and Nami is all, "Well I have nothing else to stay in this town for. I hope you're happy" and I don't WANT to know what Celia does.

But then I started to wonder. In Another Wonderful Life, I married Rock instead of Gustafa (mistake...) and I asked myself, "I wonder what Gustafa would be thinking right now..." Well, kiddies. This is it. Enjoy.

Healed

Gustafa ripped the papers. Shredding them until they feel, confetti on the floor. Confetti. That's too joyful a word. Pulp. That was better. It was pained. Crushed. It described how he felt at the moment. Right now, when he had heard the news. She didn't even twitch or try to avoid looking him in the eye as he had. She just smiled and held his hand as Takakura told him…

"The two and engaged to be married at the end of the year."

"How could she?" he cried. "Rock…her…"

his voice trailed off as he ripped up another page. Another song. Another memory of when he was with her. When their hearts were one. Another song. Six more pages. Six more songs. He tore through everyone, until when he went to destroy another, he found there were none left.

Were. Was. Used to be.

Gustafa reached for another page. None. No more. No more pages to tear. To rip. To destroy. To ease the pain. The beast scratching and clawing at the chambers of his chest. His body was burning, he had to destroy something.

He jumped up and whirled around. The instruments…The man attacked his own instruments, pulling them off the couch, swiping them viciously to the floor. He stepped on them, not caring about them cracking under his weight, just looking for something to hurt. He turned his fiery gaze to his guitar. His favorite guitar. The one that she loved to listen to him play.

This energy. This anger. Never before has he felt something so powerful. Love. He spat at the word. The inner turmoil in he body, begging, no, screaming for him to let it out in one motion. "WHY?! HOW COULD SHE?! I LOVED HER AND SHE MARRIES HIM OF ALL PEOPLE!!" he screamed.

Blood lust. The thought of it caused Gustafa to become horrified with himself. No…No, never. I would never. Even still, he felt a power that urged him to destroy further. His aura pulled him to a last remaining object in tact in the yurt. The last string that held her and himself together.

He held his guitar over his head, determined to break it, and listen to the cry of anguish it releases. His favorite guitar. The one she loved to listen to. She loved to sing with him. She loved him…

A tug. His heart speaking. Yearning for something different. Something that won't destroy. That won't cause him to regret more than he will. Gustafa hung his head, his hat drifting down to the ground. He dropped the guitar on the couch and dropped to his knees on the ground. He pulled his legs out from under him, bending them, as if to make a shield, hugged one arm to his stomach and one to his head, and let the tears flow.

Don'tcha just wanna give him a hug?

Whelp, that's that. the start of the hardest series I've ever made. No fluff in this one, folk, just hard boiled hate. nod Mhmm.