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Assistant: Title: Dear Mitsuri
        Author: shixnfaye shixnfaye 
        Chapter: 1/11 
        Summary: Shinobu was ready to face death until a girl in a puffy pink ball gown goes“Don't jump.”
        Contents: Chapter 1: My friends call me a Loser
    

    


  

  
  
    
    
  SHINOBU
  Death witnesses 107 people every minute and Shinobu is not gonna be any different from those people soon. They always said life was a blessing. That even though there were ups and downs, the divine will lead you through its plans and after it everything would make sense. People praise how you'll somehow get there someday and yet— they forget to mention the journey before it hones you. Is it ever really living when you're being forced to live a reality you never wanted? Growing up, I had always wondered if there was somehow a "best way to die".  Slashing seems to take too much time, hanging would change your appearance, swallowing pills is a waste of perfectly good medicine. I stood on the bridge, with the cold air blowing through my nape. The sound of the waves that had once sounded so serene now filled my ears like a ballad. According to Archimedes, the water's bouyancy makes our body feels much lighter as it envelopes your body. To me though, it's more like getting a warm embrace through the stifling cold liquid.  I took a sharp breath before climbing on the railings with each foot being placed feeling like liberation on my mind and a tug on my heart. I spread out my arms wide reeling in the surging air like hugging an old friend. I shut my eyes close getting ready to step a foot forward. “Don't jump!” A warm voice called up to her forcing her gaze to turn her gaze behind.“You can't die here.” A woman stood on the sidewalk with her hands placed on her hips while shaking her head. People would've mistaken her for someone who was whacked in the head due to her appearance, or maybe just a bit crazy for going overboard for wearing a silk ball gown for a walking on the streets. She even has a tiara, and the costume says the rest. Despite drowning in blues she couldn't help but scoff at how the woman looked at her like she was crazy.  “Why would you care?” I mumbled with a bitter tone glazing over my lips. “Well, normally I wouldn't, You're a stranger,” She paused. I look at her from head to toe, sinking a nail to my thumb and looked at her with contempt. “Leave me alone, you're just like all of them.”  “No— no. I really mean you shouldn't die here,” She pressed her lips together and looked like she was trying to compress a single thought out of her brain. “There's a kindergarten trip scheduled tomorrow down that river and the children will be absolutely terrified if they see your floating body.” She said pointing her index finger down there. A slight pang of guilt rushed through me. If I'm gonna die, the least that I want to do is inconvenience more people. But I was set on this, I was finally so sure that for once I could decide for myself. Why should I turn back now? I moved my eyes back on the water below me. The bravery to face death was wiped from my face.  I  I never realized that the height of the fall would actually look so high that my feet started to feel cold.“You have to get down there,” She pleaded, “I'll get you ice cream if you would.” WHAT?! I looked at her with disbelief. “WHAT AM I TO YOU, A CHILD?!” I screeched at her. She looked like she was quite taken aback yet for some reason there was a grin plastered on her face. “I'm sorry, that usually worked with my younger cousins,” She chuckled as if I wasn't facing a life and death situation, “Anyway, you really have to get down there. It'll be a mess of a clean up if you don't.” I turned my body away from the coldness below and looked at her face to face. Her cheeks glistened with crimson, eyes full of hope with an arm reaching out to me. “Unless you're too much of a chicken to jump down then.” She joked with a sweet yet irritating tone.“How dare you say that to me?” My expression crumpled. “Look, those railings are just 3 feet tall. You're too scared to get down from there, how do you even expect to jump down the bridge.” She mocked with a condescending expression plastered across her face. “YOU SON OF A—”  I lurched towards her but before I could even land a scratch my foot slipped and I was preparing for the worst. But before my body could land on the pavement I saw her running towards me full of worry. I felt my knees hit the ground yet half of my body rested on the cushy pink fabric and a warm body. I FELL ON TOP OF HER  “Ouch.” She groaned while rubbing the back of her head that hit straight to the pavement. My eyes widened. I scrambled off her as quickly as possible, my heart hammering in my chest. “You—why did you do that?!” I gasped, breathless, my hands pressing against the cold pavement as I tried to steady myself. The woman groaned again, rubbing the back of her head before sitting up with a wince. “Well, I wasn’t exactly planning on cushioning your fall, but congratulations—you didn’t die,” she muttered, giving me a weak smile. I stared at her, completely dumbfounded. My whole body was trembling—not from the cold, not from fear, but from something I couldn’t quite name. For a moment, all I could hear was the sound of my own ragged breathing, the distant hum of passing cars, and the rhythmic crashing of water against the bridge’s pillars. I should be angry. I should push her away, stand back up, and go through with it. And yet, for some reason, I stayed still. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. “You should’ve just let me fall,” I whispered. She scoffed, flipping a strand of her rosy hair that cascaded over her shoulder. “And let you ruin my night? No thanks.” Then, she let out a dramatic sigh and shook her head. “Besides, I think you owe me now. I basically risked my life to save your sorry ass.” I blinked. “Excuse me?” “You heard me.” She crossed her arms, her ridiculous ball gown shimmering under the streetlights. “I’m gonna need you to pay me back.” “For what?” “For almost breaking my spine!” She gestured to herself as if I was supposed to feel guilty about it. “Honestly, you could’ve at least made it a graceful fall. That was just embarrassing.” I gawked at her. Was this woman insane? Here I was, contemplating my own death, and she was making jokes about it like we were in some kind of sitcom. Something inside me cracked. Not in a painful way, but in the kind of way that made me want to do something absurd.  A laugh. A small, breathy laugh escaped my lips before I could even register it. And when I realized what had just happened, my laughter turned bitter. “You’re crazy.” “Says the person who was about to jump off a bridge.” She raised an eyebrow, amusement twinkling in her eyes. I looked away. “I don’t see how any of this is funny.” She hummed, stretching out her arms before standing up. Then, she held out a hand toward me. “C’mon. Get up.” I didn’t move. She sighed, rolling her eyes before kneeling down beside me again. “Okay, how about this? You owe me an ice cream. You buy me one, and I promise I won’t stop you if you wanna come back to this bridge tomorrow.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “That’s a stupid deal.” She grinned. “And yet, you’re considering it.” I wasn’t. I shouldn’t be. And yet, as I stared at her outstretched hand, something in my chest tightened. Was it really that easy to just... postpone it? To choose to live for just one more night? With a slow breath, I reached out, my fingers brushing against her palm. And for the first time in a long while, I felt something solid beneath my grasp. She pulled me up effortlessly, as if I weighed nothing. She may not look like it but she was strong. Her hand was warm—solid, firm. It wasn’t a grasp that felt pitying, nor was it filled with empty sympathy. It was just… there. Like she wasn’t saving me, but rather, helping me stand on my own. Once I was on my feet, she dusted off her ridiculous ball gown, flicking at a few specks of dirt as if her night hadn’t just been interrupted by a near-suicide attempt. I eyed her cautiously. “You’re really serious about this ice cream thing?” “Of course.” She smirked, adjusting her tiara. “It’s a matter of principle now. You owe me.” I let out a short, disbelieving breath. “You’re unbelievable.” “And you’re predictable.” She tilted her head, eyes scanning my face like she was reading something I couldn’t see. “People always hesitate when given a reason to.” I stiffened. “That’s not—” “Not what?” She cut me off smoothly. “Not true? Not fair?” She gave a knowing smile. “I don’t care either way. A promise is a promise. So, ice cream?” I rubbed a hand down my face. Maybe she was crazy. Or maybe I was, for even entertaining this nonsense. But as I looked back at the dark waters below, I realized that—for now—I didn’t want to face them again. Not yet. “…Fine,” I muttered, shoving my hands in my pockets. “One. That’s it.” She beamed. “Perfect! I know a place that’s still open.” Of course she did. With an exaggerated twirl of her gown, she started walking ahead, not bothering to check if I was following. As if she already knew I would. I hesitated for only a second before sighing and trailing after her. “By the way,” she called over her shoulder, “I never got your name.” I glanced at her, then back at the pavement. “Shinobu.” She hummed, as if testing how my name tasted on her tongue. “Shinobu. Huh.” Then, she spun on her heel, walking backward as she grinned at me. “Well, Shinobu, I’m Mitsuri. And tonight, you’re stuck with me.” I scoffed. “Lucky me.” She only laughed. And for the first time in what felt like forever, the night didn’t seem so cold. A cold whip of air blew through my face as we opened the door. I stepped inside the convenience store and it was exactly as I expected Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a stark white glow on the neatly arranged aisles. The smell of instant ramen, fried food, and stale coffee lingered in the air—an odd yet familiar scent. A radio played some old pop song in the background, crackling slightly through cheap speakers.   Mitsuri strutted inside like she owned the place, her extravagant gown trailing behind her, looking comically out of place against the dull convenience store shelves. I half-expected the cashier to tell her off, but the poor guy barely spared us a glance, more focused on tapping away at his phone behind the counter.   I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets, feeling the warmth of my body finally settle after being out in the cold for so long. “You’re seriously getting it from here?” I muttered, watching as she opened the freezer and began scanning the array of flavors. “Hey, don’t judge,” she said, grabbing one after another. “Ice cream has saved my life more times than I can count.”   I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were gonns bring me to an actual ice cream place.”   “Same difference,” she said, waving me off before turning back to her cup. “So, what’s your poison? Chocolate? Strawberry? Or are you one of those people who pretend to like vanilla just to seem cool?”   I rolled my eyes but reached for one anyway. “ “Pistachio,” I muttered.   “Ooooh, edgy,” she teased. “Should’ve guessed.”   I ignored her and focused on picking my ice cream. The cold seeped into my fingers, and for a moment, I just stood there, the cold waking me up like a shot of coffee. It felt strangely grounding—mundane, even.  I held the cone tightly while she grabbed one in a cup which a flavor I couldn't quite recognize. As I turned back to her, Mitsuri was already at the counter, plopping down a few bills as the cashier lazily scanned the items.   “You didn’t have to pay,” I said, frowning.   She grinned, plucking a biscuit from the counter and tearing it open. “Consider it an investment. Now you owe me twice.”   I scoffed, shaking my head as I followed her to a small table in the corner. She sat down gracefully—well, as gracefully as one could in a silk ball gown inside a dingy convenience store.   I took the seat across from her, my fingers tightening around my cup. “Why are you doing this?” I asked after a beat.   Mitsuri open her ice cream, her eyes flicking up to meet mine. “Doing what?”   I exhaled sharply. “This. Talking to me. Dragging me to get ice cream. Acting like I didn’t just try to—” My voice faltered, but I forced myself to finish. “—jump.”   For a moment, she didn’t answer. Just stared at me, her gaze unreadable. Then, she set her cup down and leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand.   “Because you stopped,” she said simply.   I blinked. “What?”   “You stopped,” she repeated, tilting her head. “You hesitated. Even before I said anything, you weren’t sure. And that means, deep down, some part of you wanted to stay.”   I clenched my jaw, looking away. “That’s not—”   “Not true?” She smiled slightly. “You’re here, aren’t you?”   I had no response to that.   She let the silence sit between us for a while before sighing and leaning back. “Look, I’m not gonna pretend I know what you’re going through. I don’t. But I do know that people don’t stand on bridges unless they’re waiting for a reason not to jump.”   I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry.   Mitsuri took a bite of her ice cream which made me grimace before she flashed me a grin. “So, congratulations. You found one.”   I stared at her, my chest tightening with something I couldn’t quite name.   Maybe it was anger. Maybe it was relief.   Maybe, just maybe, it was hope. “What reason to stay?” She arched an eyebrow at my question, tapping her fingers against her cup. “Well, that’s for you to figure out.” I scoffed, shaking my head. “That’s not an answer.” She shrugged. “Sure it is. Just not the one you want.” My grip on the cone tightened, grounding me, yet my chest felt unbearably tight. “You act like it’s that simple,” I muttered. She took another bite before setting it down with a quiet thud. “It’s not simple,” she admitted. “But it’s not impossible either.” I stared at her, searching for something—mockery, indifference, anything that would give me a reason to push her away. But all I saw was an irritating mix of patience and unwavering certainty. I hated it. I hated how easily she spoke, like she wasn’t afraid of saying the wrong thing. Like she truly believed I’d be fine. I looked down at my coffee, watching the ripples form as my hands trembled slightly. “There’s nothing left for me,” I finally said, voice barely above a whisper. Mitsuri hummed, tilting her head slightly. “And yet, you’re here. Eating sh@tty convenience store ice cream with a total stranger” “Whatever.” She hummed a familiar tune and looked at me like she had a lightbulb above her head. She walked over to one of the shelves. She grabbed a notebook and handed it to me. “Try living for another day then write a reason why you lived for that day. If you're still here after that, continue writing until you find your reason to live.” I stared at the notebook in my hands, my fingers brushing over the cheap, plastic cover. It was nothing special—just a plain, lined notebook that you could find in any store. But somehow, it felt heavier than it should have.   Mitsuri smiled, her eyes twinkling with something I couldn't quite name. "You don't have to write anything deep," she said, tilting her head. "Just one reason. Even if it’s small. Like, ‘I ate something good today’ or ‘The weather was nice.’”   I frowned, flipping through the blank pages. “This is stupid,” I muttered.   “Then don’t do it,” she said easily, grabbing another spoonful of ice cream. “But if you are still here tomorrow, you might as well try.”   I clenched my jaw, my grip on the notebook tightening. The idea felt ridiculous. What was the point? What difference would it make?   And yet…   The weight of it in my hands felt different from the weight I had felt on the bridge.   “I don't like writing diaries. It makes me feel like I'm talking to myself,” I reasoned. She grabbed another notebook, notably in a bright pink shade and held it up in front of me. “Then address the letters to me, I will also write some for you. If you're still here after a year let's exchange them.” I scoffed, eyeing the bright pink notebook like it had personally offended me. “You really don’t give up, do you?” Mitsuri grinned, tapping the cover with her fingers. “Nope! Besides, I think it’s a good deal. You get to rant, complain, or write whatever nonsense you want, and I promise to read it all. Then in a year, we’ll trade. Sounds fair, right?” I exhaled through my nose, shaking my head. “And what if I don’t make it a year?” She didn’t even flinch at my words. “Then I’ll just keep writing to you anyway.” My fingers curled around the edges of the notebook in my lap. “That’s morbid.” Mitsuri shrugged, popping another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. “It’s honest.” I looked down at the two notebooks—one dull, one obnoxiously pink. I exhaled sharply, stuffing the notebook into my pocket. “Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll try.”   Mitsuri grinned, holding up her spoon like she was making a toast. “Good. Now, do you want another ice cream? Or should I start bribing you with something else next time?”   I rolled my eyes but, for the first time in a while, a small, barely-there smile tugged at the corner of my lips.   Maybe—just maybe—one more day wouldn’t be so bad.     
  ENTRY 1
 Dear Mitsuri, I don’t know why I’m doing this. Maybe it’s just to humor you. Maybe it’s because you wouldn’t take no for an answer. Or maybe, deep down, some part of me actually wants to try. You annoyed me. You mocked me. You bribed me with ice cream. And for some reason, I let you. I don’t know what I’m supposed to write in these letters, but I guess I’ll start with this: I lived today. Maybe not for myself. Maybe not because I wanted to. But I lived. Today, I lived for ice cream and the new weird addition to my life— you. Sincerely,  Shinobu'
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