The Clock Struck 12

In those days, I would have never guessed I would be where I am now.

It is sunset. I lie out on the grassy hills of the Vajira planet and let a cool breeze ruffle my hair. As the "sun" dips toward the horizon, I can hear the call echoing from Frontier that dusk is approaching, to alert all citizens that they should return to Island-1 in case of danger at night.

I ignore it.

Those were my glory days—I was achieving my dream, and I was a hero. I had begun to remember who I was, and what happened to my family; why the Vajira were after me. At that time, I had become friends with many people from SMS, and Sheryl was always helping me in the right direction. And—there was Alto.

Alto.

The light was bright back then. I had met him only a few months earlier, and had developed feelings for him. He was there for me. We were so close. We were going to achieve our dreams together. But somewhere along the way, our plan went sour, and the light went out.

He was there. It was just me and him. Then there was Ai-kun. I left him. And he left me.

After that point, the light glowed once more, and then faded forever. I was plunged into the darkness where I lie now. Of course, I can go back to Frontier if I want. Nobody is stopping me from entering the city. However, there is no reason to go back. As an outcast, I am not welcomed. There are still those who still lovingly call me "Ranka", but most people remember me as simply "the girl who betrayed humanity". If Ai-kun was here, I could have someone—or something—to relate to, but he left with the Vajira queen long ago.

There are those who have called me the "Super-dimensional Cinderella". It was a fitting name. I was a lowly high-school student, working at a Chinese restaurant, only dreaming of the glitzy life as a singer. My "fairy godmother" would be the Bird Human movie that paved my way to fame. My song was my glass slipper, mine and mine only. Those things together, along with the support of everyone, brought me to the figurative "palace" where I sung freely. The prince who caught my eye was none other than the pilot with the blue ponytail.

But like the Cinderella of myth, I lost it all a midnight. It was a particularly clear night. Yes—Alto was teaching me to make a paper airplane. It was one of our rare moments alone, away from everything, away from strife, and away from Sheryl. As I left Alto alone at the park that night, however, my clock struck twelve. The fairy tale was over, and I would have to pay the price.

When Alto came back to rescue me, it was not my singing that brought him to me. It was Sheryl's. I sung once more, and saved my friends, but the magic was no longer there. While I was away, Sheryl had captured Alto's heart. When I saw Sheryl's confident face, and challenged her to winning Alto, I realized I had already lost. It was hopeless. My price was that even though the prince did not forget Cinderella, he did not choose her, either.

I had lost my songs when I turned on Frontier to save Ai-kun, but the wound deepened when the reason I sang disappeared as well.
The pain I experienced when I was attacked by Vajira was nothing compared to this. Isolation does not let a broken heart heal very easily.

Sometimes, I wish that Onii-chan had never given me those tickets for Sheryl's concert, and that I had only been able to look on while she sung through a TV screen. That way, I would have never tried to take a shortcut and run into Alto.

Sometimes, I wish that the Vajira had captured me and taken me away, or that Alto hadn't saved me from being sucked into space. Because then, I would never have become an outcast.

Sometimes, I wish that I was still an insignificant, ordinary member of society, still working at Café Nyan Nyan and giggling with my best friend about the latest goof-up, before she had gone into and woken from a coma, forgetting I ever existed.

I would give anything to go back to the way it was before.

Someone approaches me from behind. His pale green hair swishes in the wind as he sits down next to me.

"Ranka, it's getting late. Don't you want to come home?"

He's right. The "sun" is almost gone, and stars are visible in the darkening sky. But I don't want to go back. Not yet. That would mean returning to the jeers of passerby, and seeing Alto with the pink-haired fairy who stole him away.

"…No."

Brera sighs. He stares into the sky, perhaps trying to make out constellations, even though those written about in our records don't exist here. Then, he holds up a harmonica.

"Why don't you sing? That always made you happy before…"

As I have nothing better to do, I agree. Even though the tune of the song is riddled with memories of hardship, my hopeless love for Alto, and the destruction of 117th Macross Fleet, it is a song that has never failed me. Only the version written by Grace had caused things to go awry.

Quietly, I begin to sing. But something is wrong. It feels forced; the emotion is lacking. The notes are off key. I stop abruptly with a realization.

"Ranka, what's the matter?"

For sixteen years, it was my only memory; the one thing that was always true. Yet today, it is another thing I have lost.

"…I've forgetten the words."

So? How was it? Sorry for Brera's OOC-ness (if you think he was).

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