Disintegration: A Shoujo Parallels Headcanon Short

“How do you feel?”

She didn’t know how to answer that.

Mathias looked up from her phone (yes – her phone) and let his eyes wander, from her eyes to her arms and finally back to her face. He cleared his throat.

“Wrong question, I assume.” He paused, “…how was today?”

She shrugged.

He persisted. He’d been getting a lot of shrugs lately.

“Did you finish your homework?”

“I did.” She gestured towards her planner, “I have free time left. It feels…weird.” Mathias let himself smile slightly and walked to her, setting the black phone down on the wooden study table and shortly looking at the screen of her laptop. Various themes appeared on the screen. “I’m…looking for themes. For the blog. I want to change it up for the two-year mark,” she told him. “I…I have extra time left. Three hours to do what I can, and then I’ll sleep.”

He listened. “Quizzes?”

She let herself smile this time, “Better than I expected.”

“That’s good. See?” he ruffled her hair, “You can do it. I told you so, Arzen. I know how you did during Trigonometry–” she grimaced, “–and that’s okay. That’s your starting point. That’s better than you initially expected, right?” the smaller girl nodded and he pulled a chair, sitting next to her.

“Even in Fil.”

“Even there. Now…” he took her phone, “You have to reply.”

Again came the silence.

Mathias took advantage of her silence.

“I know what you’re thinking, Arzen. ‘She doesn’t understand’. But she does.” He let that stay with her for a moment, “And she’s right. You have to admit that. She’s doing her best to pull you out.”

“But–”

“You’re hurt. I know. But she’s right.” He saw the look in her eyes change, from initial hesitation to pure hurt and hurried on, “I’m not saying that you have no reason to feel so badly. But you have to get out of that slump and keep pushing.” Mathias saw her glance away, and he sighed quietly.

He took her Physics book.

“Two problems in half an hour. Two assignments in an hour. Algebra and Physics, and you were telling me that those would be your worst this year. That obviously isn’t the case.”

She tried to shift the topic, “But that isn’t what’s on my mind.”

“I know. It’s not your main worry. But it’s still a worry nonetheless.” He put it back down and glanced at the laptop, “I know why you’re upset. I know why you’re feeling like this.” She stared blankly at him. “The Setomion was a hint enough,” he admitted, and she turned away from him. “But…why?”

“You don’t–”

“I do,” he cut in sharply. “I do.”

“…how?”

Mathias let himself exhale.

“Trust me on this. I know – knew,” he corrected, “Someone who felt the same way. And it nearly destroyed her.”

“Who…”

“A friend.”

She nodded.

“So please – for the sake of not turning out like that friend of mine – Arzen, please look at me.” She did, and he gently took her hands into his own, the heat rising to her neck. “Don’t feel that way. Please don’t.”

She felt her eyes sting and blinked back tears, “But…”

“Do you remember what I told you?” She gave him a confused look. “About the stars?”

“You always mention the stars,” she mumbled.

“For a good reason. Do you remember?”

“…I think I do.”

But he repeated those words anyway.

“Infinite skies. Infinite stars. We share different skies,” he told her again. “But we are all stars in someone’s sky. Same stars. Different skies. Can you keep up?” she nodded again, “Without a single star –even the smallest or the one with the most faded twinkle – the sky won’t be as beautiful. It won’t be as complete. The lacking of one will make a great impact on that sky…and the person who owns that sky. So don’t fade out. Not yet. Not ever. Okay?”

She sniffed and nodded shakily.

He squeezed her hands. “Think of how many skies you belong in, Vens.” She blushed. There it was – Vens. “Your family’s. Your friends’. Eri’s. Mine.”

“Y-Yours?”

“Mine,” he repeated firmly. “I’ve watched so many stars fade, Arzen. I don’t want you to be the next one to fade out. You…you mean a lot to me,” he managed, and this only made her blush more. “I mean that. I’m not saying that just so you can feel better,” the redhead defended, and she managed to smile just a little more than she previously did. “But you do mean a lot.”

“So I’m a star in someone’s sky,” she mused openly, and he nodded. “Okay.”

“What?”

“I’ll try.”

“Don’t try. Do what you can.”

And he felt all other tinges of black dissolve into nothing.

“Starting now, you promise?”

“I promise, Mathias.”

“Good.” He took her phone and gently pushed it into her hands. “Now make the first step.”

Arzen looked at her phone and he saw her hands shaking, “I can’t–”

“You can. You promised me.”

She looked at him, and she saw it in his eyes: faith.

Monika Arzen bit her lip, nodded, and began to type a new message.