Just a quick note; I have no idea when this was meant to be set. I'm guessing a while ago, tis all. Plus, it's from Mana's POV.^_^

Laundry. Honestly. Laundry. It's a Friday night, half the band is sick so I ended practice early, there's a whole city at my front door for me to have fun in...

And I'm sitting here on the kitchen floor, quietly sipping tea...taking a break from doing the laundry.

Like it even needs to be done. It's not like you'll ever wear those clothes again, dammit.

You gave them to me. Stuffed them all in a bin bag- well, three bin bags, then- and deposited them on my doorstep. Said you'd never wear them again, because they stank of me.

Why that phrase? You always liked the vanilla perfume I use. Used. I don't use it very often now, I suppose. It's running out, and I don't know where to buy more, seeing as you got it for me for a birthday present. Well, that's what I tell myself. So it's Special Occasions Only, I'm afraid.

Tea's nearly gone. Maybe I should make another cup? And sit on a chair or sofa rather than the floor?

No. I'd better get on with the laundry. The unnecessary laundry.

There's a pair of tight leather trousers at the top of the basket, and a white shirt with ruffles. You never really liked the shirt, but the trousers were one of your favourite items of clothing, weren't they?

Maybe I'm forgetting. Maybe not. I run a hand over the soft material of the shirt, wondering why you'd give up clothes so lovely as these, even if they did 'stink of me', as you put it. But then, I suppose I'm playing dumb. I know you don't just mean the smell of vanilla perfume that used to cling to them- although countless unnecessary washes have taken that delicate fragrance from them. I know fine well what you meant. I designed them. I gave them to you. I put my heart and soul into thinking up costumes for you, and you shoved my heart and soul into three black plastic bin bags and gave them right back.

I close my eyes for a moment, and I suddenly just want to sit down and forget about all this. I want to leave your clothes in the attic, my prince, and let them get covered in dust and chewed at my moths and by age, until there's nothing left.

But of course, I can’t. To do so would to admit that I couldn't take it. So I tell myself it's for the clothes. They're wonderful, you see. I couldn't bear to let them rot away.

That's what I tell myself.

I look out the window, and let out a brief whimper. Was that you, standing outside? No. No, obviously not. How stupid of me. It's just one of your coats, hung up outside to dry. I should really take it in. I don't want it to get stolen or anything, or rained on or torn.

It's a nice coat. That's all.

I turn, and realise the mug my tea was in remains on the kitchen table. I pick it up and begin to wash it. I have a dishwasher, but I don't want to use it right now. I like the feeling of the scalding water on my fingertips. I'm freezing, I realise suddenly. It's rather cold out tonight, and I haven't got the heating turned on. I'm so absent-minded, sometimes. I forget to eat and sleep very often. Sometimes I get dizzy because of it. I've fainted a couple of times. Once in the middle of practice. Kazuno was very upset about it. He was angry with me for not eating, thought I was ill, like with anorexia or something. I'm just forgetful. And to prove it, I'm going to put three sugars in this new cup of tea I'm making, because I could do with sugar.

Screw it. I don't need tea. I find a bottle of wine and pour a glass, a full glass. White wine, because your favourite was red, and I don't want to be like you, my prince. I down the alcohol like water. It tastes good, and hopefully it will numb the pain that thinking about you seems to bring.

I've finished with your clothes. They're all neat and tidy and clean. I just have to bring in the things drying outside.

But there's one thing I want to do first.

I do my little dance-walk-skip upstairs- you always said I was so pretty and cute when I walked like that, about to fall over, just keeping my balance, always so adorably innocent- and pick up a little bottle of perfume.

It's that vanilla stuff you bought for me. I spray a little on both wrists and my neck, and then go downstairs. I trip a little, because it's hard to skip-dance down steps.

I'm just about to spray some on your newly washed, abandoned clothing, when someone knocks at the door.

I leave the bottle on the table, and open it. I greet Kazuno with a swift but loving kiss, and invite him in. I knew he'd be around to check on me. I was acting strangely at practice, very distracted. He sees all your clothes, but doesn't say a word. I wonder if he knows I do this a lot, washing the clothes you left behind when you vanished? Does he realise he'll always be second to you, my prince?

I pause, then open the cupboard and bring out some red wine. Your favourite sort, my love, though Kazuno doesn't really like this kind. I take the perfume and spray it liberally on the folded clothes, because I know, despite the phrase you used to tell me you didn't want them, it's still your favourite smell really.

I sigh, and decide I will hang them up later, when Kazuno leaves. I pour the wine into two glasses and gaze at your things once more.

You'll probably never wear them again, Gackt, but still. It's nice to have them ready...just in case you ever change your mind.