[Masa]

Synopsis: Life-long friends have a little talk on a train ride home.

Lush, green hills covered in towering spires of the flora gave off a foggy sort of mist around the trunks, creating a whimsical sight, the blue-green mountains of forests peaked and speared into the hazy sky. But the natural scape finally gave way to concrete jungle of skyscrapers and fields of the jungle's residents, fleeing from a thin, misty rain that seemed to have creeped over the mountains. It was rather early in the morning - "5:30" read the small wristwatch on a young man's currently non-moving hand.

A small foggy spot appeared on the train's window glass as the young man's companion let out a tiresome sigh.

Looking up from his sketchbook for a brief moment, the young man asked, "What's wrong?"

Her head was turned and the young woman's straight brown hair concealed her face, but the boy, sitting across from her, could just make out the movement of her lips as she answered somewhat sullenly, "I'm cold."

With a bit of a smirk, the young man reached down beside his seat and unzipped his pack, then he gently tossed a dark red blanket on her still figure. "I warned you, didn't I?" He gestured to his attire: a black t-shirt and camouflage khakis. He then made a sweeping gesture to hers, a red sleeveless shirt and light brown baggy shorts.

"Yeah, yeah, you're always right." She took the blanket with a weak smile and wrapped herself up tightly.

He was about to continue sketching, but her voice interrupted his train of thought. "What are you drawing, anyway?"

Slightly hesitant, he answered, "You."

She raised a brow in mock confusion, although both knew what it meant. "You said you draw things that you will not see anymore. That's why you draw landscape."

He was uneasily silent, his dark eyes studied her face as her slightly lighter eyes studied his own.

They knew what this conversation would lead to. They knew what it was going to be about. They'd prepared it mentally for a year, ever since they'd become third-years. But now when they were faced with the real thing, they both understood the futility of bothering with the conversation that would destroy their relationship. They opted for silence, letting time destroy them instead of each other.

The passenger car they were in was empty other than those two and one young bespectacled boy sitting on the opposite side of the aisle, sleeping soundly with a small black journal slipping out of his hands.

Along with the near-silent snoring of the young boy, the only other sound made was the light scratching sound created by the pencil on the sketch paper.

"Do you love me?"

The young man looked up, revealing his shock. The abruptness and harsh tone of the question startled him enough to make him accidentally snap his pencil against the paper. He searched his pack for a sharpener or an extra pencil, but gave up, then he looked at her a little frightened. "What?"

They must have passed the small city, for now lush, green forests were flourishing in the light rain. The mountain's precious flora was alive and growing, making the mountain even greater and more splendid than it was mere moments ago. Then all was dark as they entered one of the many tunnels on their way home.

"I said, 'Do you love me?'"

He could not see her expression in the dim light. Her tone was still harsh, but a notch lighter and softer. Was she joking? Ever since they were children this was one of their favorite games: they would say they loved each other, and then their respective parents, overjoyed with how adorable their son or daughter was, would buy them ice cream and sweets.

But when you'd known someone for as long as they had, to the point where being mistaken for lovers was accepted with tired impassionate nods with no more denial, did "love" actually mean anything anymore?

The word sounded stale, devoid of meaning, too late to mean anything but a ghost of what could have once been. He tried to imagine his companion's face and thought about loving her. He saw a six year-old girl playing in the old town's park, on the swing set they both enjoyed so much; he saw a ten year-old girl playing at the beach, where they would stay near the shore and create small castles and laugh as the tide destroyed them; he saw the fourteen year-old being asked to her first date, looking at him as though requesting his permission.

Fourteen years-old... less than three years ago.

He looked at her again, and like a mask breaking, he suddenly realized the little girl he'd always treasured as his best companion had grown up. She was closer than a friend now, wasn't she?

The tunnel ended and light poured out of the window and onto her face. She was not smiling. He didn't know what his facial expression was; in fact, he felt numb as a cold, warm feeling floated up, encompassing him in a bubble of... this emotion. He looked down, then back at her face. "Yes, I think I do."

A trolley soon passed, selling its various wares: cookies, lunch boxes, magazines, pens. The young man sent it away. The other boy stood up and bought a pencil, then furiously began to write in his small black journal.

The girl sitting on the opposite side eyed the young man crossly. "They sold pencils you know, you can finish your drawing."

Stretching out a bit, the young man sighed and laid his head back, prepared for a nap before the train hit the next stop. "I think I may save that picture for another time." The boy's pencil scratching in his journal lulled him to drowsiness.

She did not reply, but as his eyelids grew heavy and he began to feel sleep overcome his will, he saw a flicker of a smile dawn on her lips.

[LullabyHearts]

Green hills and mountains of forests gave way to concrete jungle and a thin, misty rain. It was rather early in the morning - "5:30" read the small wristwatch on a young man's currently non-moving hand.

I think this part should be way more dramatic. Add more scenery. Describe the man, make his importance known then.

With a bit of a smirk, the young man reached down beside his seat and unzipped his pack,

I could've sworn you were going to say pants. Haha. Sorry. Just had to mention that.

He was about to continue sketching, but her voice interrupted his train of through. "What are you drawing, anyway?"

Slightly hesitant, he answered, "You."

Okay seriously that's pure amazing. So simply where you able to transform this piece into a romance piece. Great job! It made me melt.

They'd prepared it mentally for a year, ever since they'd become third-years.

Of what, college/university?

Alright, right after the whole "You" part...slowly I think you rush it. And its a little cliche. Its done lots and lots of time, childhood friends fall in love, kind of work on it a bit. Put it through the thinking process a little bit longer.

Wow, that was random, a little boy in the compartment?

They must have passed the small city, for now lush, green forests were flourishing in the light rain. The mountain's precious flora was alive and growing, making the mountain even greater and more splendid than it was mere moments ago. Then all was dark as they entered one of the many tunnels on their way home.

Thats how described the beginning should be. Moutains should be an reoccuring methaphor.

The word sounded stale, devoid of meaning, too late to mean anything but a ghost of what could have once been. He tried to imagine his companion's face and thought about loving her. He saw a six year-old girl playing in the old town's park, on the swing set they both enjoyed so much; he saw a ten year-old girl playing at the beach, where they would stay near the shore and create small castles and laugh as the tide destroyed them; he saw the fourteen year-old being asked to her first date, looking at him as though requesting his permission.

By far one of the best paragraphs.



Oh Masa, I don't even know where to start with this ending. And this was by far one of my favorite pieces by you.

1. The little boy randomally wakes up and buys a pencil? That's all his significance is?
2. "Yes, I think so" Wow, so unbelievably romantic...
3. Falls asleep....?! They confess their love for one another then he decides to take...a nap.

Really Masa, you should've went a different way.

[Masa]

Third-years is Japanese Highschool's last year, about to head to college. The pair were afraid that they would be forced to seperate when they go to college.

Now for the ending:

1. That little boy is a determent, it's to make you wander off and ponder his significance, only to realize that the little boy is simply a symbol of youth and its blindness to the warm fuzzy moments taking place in the story.

2. And this pair is lax, I explained that somewhere in there.

3. I would have done the same, trains make you so sleepy... and I wanted the last thing for him to see was his companions smiling in the end. Just like back in his flashbacks.

---

Haruna, I'd like to really thank you for reading this and critiquing it, I'm very grateful that you would have put your time to this task.

[LullabyHearts]

Oh. I think you should explain the third-year thing, personally.

and with the little boy, I did take notice that his symbolism was youth. I'm just not sure you put it across the best way. Once again, personally.

And with the sleepy, okay I understand that with the sleepy thing...although...I don't know. As a romantic piece, its not completely there.

And yes, of course. I needed something to read, it was first on the list in the romance section. I was happy to read it.

[Ferris]

Apart from the few things already pointed out, I say this piece is rather nice.

Its romantic almost, but not cheesey at all (at least, I don't think it is!).

Apart from that, it would have been nice to have some names, but leaving them nameless might do the trick, since I could give those two people their own names, and leaves it to my imagination. Maybe I'm just being love-struck at the moment!

For drama though, I'm all for a few more descriptions of the landscapes they are passing.

Good piece though!

Ferris

[LullabyHearts]

I didn't even realize they were nameless, how lame of me. I kind of liked how they were nameless. Because the piece is about the confession of love...not really the history of their love.

[Jon%]

This was great. I personally don't think anything needs to be changed. You captured the mood perfectly and I loved the nonchalant way in which the characters declared their love for each other. It was perfect, they knew it all the time. I also thought the extra little boy was a nice touch, especially in relation to the pencils.

Now that I've said all that, I'd just like to add :throw up: :throw up:

[Masa]

Hehehehe, now you know why romance is not one of my specialities...

[LullabyHearts]

No Masa, I disagree. It may not come off as hardcore romance, but I really think this is your best piece. True, you have some loose ends, I would perfer you to fix (but its up to you) but this is pretty amazing.

[Masa]

On the contrary Haruna, I was on a train such as this when I wrote this, and I was very sleepy, that may tell you why there is such a relaxed sort of feeling to the entire thing.

Oh, I may as well tell you, this is Japan, and I was a little thoughtless about the third-year thing. I'm a first year now, and so I was wondering whether I should go to Japan for schooling, then I wondered what would happen to my friends there (Japanese Highschools are unlike American, most you must take entrance exams just in order to enter the highschool, better your grade, better school, I lucked out with an A school near Shogawa-michi, but the people there are cruel...)

Does that help you understand any better? Oh, and my introduction has been fixed to be a bit more pleasant in terms of my poetic foolishness.

P.S - I own a little black journal, the same in which I wrote this story in. And pencils in the trolley are expensive.

I just wanted to say that i liked this story though i was confused at first but i read it over again and loved it...

[Masa]

Why thank you unregistered! I greatly appreciate such a wondrous comment!

[WorldWarCheese]

I was hooked from the beginning. Normally I go through works thinking "Where's the mistakes I can fix" but after:

Lush, green hills covered in towering spires of the flora gave off a foggy sort of mist around the trunks, creating a whimsical sight, the blue-green mountains of forests peaked and speared into the hazy sky. But the natural scape finally gave way to concrete jungle of skyscrapers and fields of the jungle's residents, fleeing from a thin, misty rain that seemed to have creeped over the mountains. It was rather early in the morning - "5:30" read the small wristwatch on a young man's currently non-moving hand.

I was totally hooked. That paragraph just was described so well. Also, I'm a major sap and loved the entire story (I'm VERY glad my college friends don't know I just said that, I'd never live it down)

[RENA HANDS]

Applauses so many applauses.

My only inquiry is did you intend “thought” here?

He was about to continue sketching, but her voice interrupted his train of through. “What are you drawing, anyway?”

He was about to continue sketching, but her voice interrupted his train of thought. “What are you drawing, anyway?”

[PaperAnchor]

The plot's sort of cliche. But meh today, everything's cliche right?

[Masa]

WorldWarCheese: Thanks for your compliments, description is the heart of a story, although I do tend to go overboard and describe the obvious. And no worries of your college buddies, if anyone knew writing Romance was a hobby of mine, my companions wouldn't allow it to be forgotten either.

bombman: Sorry, but storiesmania is where I write, although 2ch I have heard is as pleasant as always.

ごめん、２ｃｈ　あまり　つかいません。

My romaji is, I'm afraid, very rusty.

RENA: Yes Rena, I will fix that right away, I am grateful I have people with such sharp eyes looking over my things.

PaperAnchor: Is not love cliche? Haha, thanks.

[Masa]

ゴメンね。僕、日本語は上手く読めないんだよ。もし良かったら、 英語で書いてくれないかな？もしかしたら、日本語の翻訳ソフトを 使ってるの？文章がちょっと読み難いんだよね。＾＾ ；