I love manga, anime and video games. Here's all about my favourites!! All the info I know (and thought of while I was writing...), so if you know anything else, please, tell me!!!!!!!
haha ^ ^
But just a warning, this is my first Otaku World, so I'm bound to make a few mistakes here :)
Also, I make a lot of typos cus I type kinda fast sometimes and have *always* been way too lazy to check over it. But hey.
And I apologize in advance for the fan fic. I have the most unoriginal ideas.


The First Time...

Sayu felt her eyes tug towards her watch again. Matsuda was running late. Unless he had simply chosen not to show? She tapped her foot nervously, tugging on a strand of loose hair. After waiting another five minutes, she pulled herself to her feet and began to walk away, burying her hands in her pockets as she went. It was only September but the cold was already biting at her through her jacket, and it stung the tear tracks where they ran.

Matsuda hovered anxiously across the road. He had watched Sayu as she sat, deathly still, unable to move. How could he sit with her, talk to her, laugh with her? He couldn’t; not when he had…The memory of that fateful day was running in his head again. Light’s tortured face had never been far from his mind, but seeing the similarities in Sayu made it stronger than ever before.

The argument in Matsuda’s head was raging fiercely, and he didn’t notice that he had started walking. Matsuda was perhaps ten feet behind Sayu when he finally realised that he was no longer stood still, his eyes fixated on the back of her head. He blushed and pushed his eyes down to the floor. That was when he noticed the glistening, wet droplets dotting the pavement. “Sayu!” he called desperately, but at that moment a strong wind pulled his speech away. His footsteps sped up and he caught her shoulder. “Sayu…” he breathed.

Sayu jumped at the warm touch on her shoulder. She turned slowly, the bitter wind teasing her hair out behind her and tugging her tears away. When she recognised the sheepish expressions of the man behind her, the paleness in her face dissipated quickly into a violent blush and she forced the final tears out of her eyes. “…Matsuda.” Her voice was weak, as was the nod that accompanied his name.

Noticing her attempt to hide her crying from him, Matsuda acted as though he had not noticed. “I’m sorry…” he said, his voice still foggy. “I didn’t mean…I apologise…I’m sorry I was late.” He cursed his ineloquence inwardly, and jumped when Sayu giggled. “It’s okay,” she laughed, her voice light and tinkling.

Sayu watched Matsuda getting more flustered and couldn’t hold back another chuckle. “Shall we…get a drink?” she asked politely, and he accepted with a silent nod, afraid he would embarrass himself again if he were to speak. They went to a nearby café and had coffee together, but only ever made small talk. Matsuda couldn’t get over his shyness, and Sayu couldn’t accept that she was on a date…much less that she was on a date with Matsuda.

Even though the two of them had not shared many words, they felt infinitely more comfortable together as they left the coffee shop. Sayu walked next to Matsuda, willing herself to take his hand. She took her hand out of her pocket very slowly, reached towards his hand – which was dangling uselessly by his side…She was just about to take his hand when a sharp gust of wind made her shiver. Noticing this, Matsuda slipped his arm around her shoulders easily, and she smiled gratefully at him.

Matsuda marvelled at the grace with which he had put his arm around her, but felt a definitely ungraceful blush spread over his cheeks again. He wanted to say something, but the words were lost on the way out.

“…Well, I had better go in then.” Sayu was disappointed that they had reached her house already; the silent walk here had been comforting and warm. Matsuda was disappointed, too…he hadn’t managed to express himself, and now she wouldn’t want to see him again. Sayu hung near him for a minute, and then nodded before stepping up to her front door.

“Wait.” Matsuda’s voice had suddenly become commanding, and Sayu had to pull back another laugh as she turned to face him once more, her eyebrows raised curiously. Matsuda was suddenly overcome by shyness again. “I…” Surveying her soft features, he finally realised how unlike she and Light really were. He had never had her wide, innocent eyes; her perfectly pale skin so prone to a cute, gentle blush; her soft hair that gently bounced down to her shoulders, framing her face. Everything about her was gentle, soft, innocent, whereas Light had become harsh and cruel and cunning.

Matsuda urged himself to say something; give his fragile feelings form. He saw Sayu bite her lip anxiously, and he knew she would not wait for long. “Would…would you…would you see me again?” The words had rushed out, tripping over each other, and he was certain she could not have understood.

Sayu had been worried about Matsuda’s next words, but at his question, a slow smile gradually stretched across her face. She walked up to him slowly, looking into his hazel eyes and feeling an inexplicable tug in her heart. Stretching up, she whispered in his ear, “I’d love to.” A goofy grin broke out on Matsuda’s face then, and he stroked her hand clumsily. “Shall we say…next Sunday, ten o’clock, meet here?” Sayu asked, knowing that she would need to be the level-headed one. Matsuda nodded, and she skipped back to her door. As she turned her key in the lock, she looked at him one last time and blew him a kiss.

Sayu flew up the stairs and locked herself in her room before sinking down onto her bed, still smiling. The guilt she had first felt about dating Matsuda had disappeared completely; those precious few hours had been totally Light-free.

Matsuda watched Sayu go inside, knowing that a soppy grin was still plastered on his face. A twitch at the window drew his eyes, and he could have sworn he saw Soichiro’s stern face gazing out at him. But even that couldn’t spoil his sky-high mood, and he wobbled down the road, still caught up in Sayu’s stunning eyes and beautiful smile.


“Do you hate things that are in order? Snowy roads, boxes of chalk, organized rooms. Stuff like that. Do you hate ‘perfection’?” “It scares me. I was always nervous. If I had the slightest imperfection, I would get in trouble. ...

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Fatal Love

Well, this is a kinda...strange topic for me to be writing about. But here it is! Hope you like it ^_^ It's just about a coupla randoms without names. “You know, I will only run after you so far,” she breathed q...

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Golden Chamber: The Lady in White

Haru 93: This is the fourth fan fiction in the ‘Golden Chamber’ series by me and Gildas Magnus, and my bits are in Italics again, while Gildas’s are underlined. Yay for continuity! Gildas_Magnus: Remember, as of GC3, Gildas...

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Just Another Teen Suicide...

The girl shut down her computer dejectedly and sat staring at the blank screen for a while, filled with swirling, hazy thoughts and feelings. She had finally finished writing her essay for school, but she felt certain that she had done it all wrong. Flipping her long, wavy hair over her shoulder, she stood up and surveyed her messy room. She knew she needed to tidy it, but it could wait. There were other things on her mind at the moment.

A book was lying discarded on the floor, and the girl picked it up in an attempt to lose herself in the fantasy worlds that used to enthral her so. But it didn’t work; she simply couldn’t enjoy what she was reading. Sighing, she lay the book down again, and turned on her television. She flicked through the channels restlessly, unable to settle on one show. Nothing could amuse her at the moment – she just didn’t enjoy anything that she used to.

Her bed seemed warm and sheltering, so she curled up in a tight ball under the covers. She welcomed the familiar feeling of comfort that appeared every time she crawled in there. Tears ran down her face before seeping into the pillows coldly. A few weeks ago, she would have choked them back, but now she had simply lost all her energy. She felt as though all the colour had been sucked out of her life; it was as though she had simply lost the will to live. All she ever felt these days was a cold, sick feeling of emptiness that threatened to consume her as it had her whole life.

More tears flowed out at the thought of how much longer she would feel this way. What if it never stopped, what if this was just how she would always feel? That thought terrified the girl, and she clawed at her knees anxiously. She wasn’t sure she could stand it if this was just how she was supposed to live every day of her life. A sudden stinging pain shook her from her thoughts; she had been scrabbling at her knees so hard that her nails had punctured the layers of skin, and blood was creeping out. The girl smiled masochistically; enjoying the fact that now she was hurting on the outside as well as the inside. People wouldn’t take notice of her emotional pain, but there was no way they could ignore physical harm.

A few weeks later, the girl was walking home from school alone. She had spent the day smiling and laughing with her friends, still forcibly restraining the overwhelming feelings of self-loathing and gloom. But now she got to be alone, again, and she didn’t have to hide anything. Honestly, she hated being thrust upon other people – she would much rather be alone. So no matter how many social invites she received, she would always decline. She would not impose her presence on unsuspecting innocents, and hoped they would return the favour.

At home that night, she reached over to her bedside table and took one of the tablets diagnosed to help her sleep. It had been about two months since she had enjoyed a full night’s sleep, but the pills gave her a little rest. With trembling hands, the girl reached out for another tablet. All she desired was one unbroken night’s sleep…

Eventually, she had worked her way through the whole packet. As she tossed the box into the bin, she smiled vindictively at the thought of the sixteen tablets floating somewhere inside of her. It would only take ten more minutes for them to affect her.

After ten minutes, thirty six seconds and fifteen milliseconds – as counted by the girl’s perfectly timed watch – a pang of drowsiness swept through her. She settled down beneath her bedcovers, laying her head down on her pillow daintily. Maybe now she could sleep for a whole, undisturbed night – and perhaps (if she was very lucky) she would not ever have to wake….

The following morning, the girl’s mother’s wails could be heard by the whole street. All of her neighbours filtered out of their houses just in time to hear her tell the police officer in a weak, wobbling voice, that, “I just don’t understand why she would do something like that! She was such a happy, cheerful girl, and her friends were always inviting her out! It must have been an accident, it must have!” She dissolved into crazy sobs in front of the policeman, who simply patted her on the back. To him, this was just another teen suicide – the parents could never understand, it would seem. He rolled his eyes grimly, counting down the minutes until he could leave.