A Time For Everything
"There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven;
…a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace…
…A Time To Live And A Time To Die…"
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
"You're sick?"
The young child nodded, his black hair following over his eyes. The silence that filled the stale air was overwhelming. Sighing, he sunk down to the ground in defeat. Now she would leave, just as the others. His only playmate…gone. None of them wanted to be sick like him. None of them. And now, she would join them.
"My…my daddy got sick…" she started, causing the boy to look up. "Mommy said he couldn't get better…"
"Yah, well, that's what's going to happen to me…" he replied, hugging his knees close to him. It wasn't fair! IT JUST WASN'T FAIR! Tears stung his eyes as he tried (without avail) to hold them back, and he hugged his knees tighter, drawing his pale red robe in around him.
The little girl watched her friend curiously, not knowing the pain and suffering he endured, not knowing anything other than the sheltered life she had lived thus far. All she knew was that she wanted to do something about it…to help him. "Maybe…", she started, "…maybe, you'll get to see my daddy in heaven. Yah! That's where he went when he got sick…so that's were you'll go!"
The boy slowly rose his head, tears still clinging to his cheeks. What was she saying? Did she not understand what was going on? "I…" he said, then faltered. Closing his eyes, the tears he had been struggling to hold back flowed anew. Suddenly, he felt something grasp his hands. Looking up, the trembling child saw her standing over him, his hands in her own.
"Let's go play!" she said, a smile lighting up the scenery.
Mouth gaping open, the frail boy slowly got up, his hands still clinging to hers. "You…you still want to play with me? Aren't you worried about getting sick as well?"
The girl just smiled more. "Nope!…and even if I do, then I'll get to go to heaven with you and daddy!"
Some how, for some reason, a rare smile found it's way to the boy's lips. Rubbing the tears out of his eyes, his smile widened. He would forget about his illness…forget that he had a short time to live. He had to be strong…for her. Changing the subject, he tugged her hand. "Come on, I'll race you to the stream!"
The other child giggled as she skipped behind the boy, their hands still clasped. Suddenly, she let go and raced on ahead of him.
The boy found himself laughing along with her, and he too started running, the two chasing each other toward the stream, all the worry of earlier evaporated.
Akito Sohma lay in his usual spot on the floor, just outside of his room. The room. The room he had spent his whole life in, since the moment of his birth, and probably would spend the rest of his life in, till the moment of his death. Nothing was special about today…nothing ever seemed particularly special about any day. They all just dragged by in countless hours that added up to his quickly passing life.
Fingernail dragging across the stained wood, the teen had let his mind wander. Not that it didn't happen often, but it was an occurrence that often startled even him when he found himself lost in the past. Especially if it was one of the few good memories.
"Akito!" the voice drifted in, breaking the black-haired boy's thoughts.
His lip curled in disgust, and he sat up suddenly, causing a nearby bird to take off in flight. Not bothering to get up and open the door, he commanded his visitor to do so. "What do you want?" he demanded coldly. He hated being intruded upon.
"Akito, it's time for your weekly check-up", Hatori said as he entered the room.
Akito sat with his back turned to Hatori, and didn't bother looking his way when he heard the older man come in.
"Akito, I'm going to need you to come over here". Hatori was preparing a needle, and could not be bothered with walking over to his patient. Well, neither, apparently, could Akito be bothered with walking over to his doctor, either.
"Since when do I take orders from you?" he asked stubbornly.
Hatori sighed. "Akito, it would just be easier if you came over. I have to give you this…it will help with the headaches you've been complaining about recently".
The younger one grumbled, but, nevertheless, stood up. As soon as he was off the ground, a sudden pain shot through his head, and his vision blurred slightly. The room swam in front of him, and, for a few moments, Akito had to struggle to keep balanced. However, the moment passed, and he made his way over to Hatori.
"I don't even see what difference these shots of yours will make…it's not like they really work. You just like jabbing people with those things and calling it a cure".
"I never said this would cure you…it will only help with your headaches", Hatori replied, his voice expressionless. Testing the needle, he positioned it in his hand. "Now…give me your arm…"
Not refusing Hatori's order, Akito allowed the doctor to take his arm and bit his lip as the needle went in.
"There", Hatori said, after ten or so seconds. Removing the needle, he placed a wet cloth on Akito arm and disposed of the used injector. "You'll need to keep that patch covered for half an hour or so. If any problems arise, call me, and…" His words trailed off as something caught his attention. A bruise, about a half an inch in diameter, lay on Akito's arm, just above the spot where he had received his shot. Funny how something so insignificant could be the beginning of something terrible. But Hatori had no doubt in his mind. After all, he'd seen it before…
"…and…!"
Hatori regained his thought process. "…and I'll check up on how you are doing later…" Gathering his things, he left the room.
Once again a deep silence hung in the air. Alone again, Akito lay on his back, staring out the door way to the so familiar yard. In an attempt to push Hatori's unwanted visit out of his mind, he tried to recall his thoughts from earlier, but found they had escaped his mind. How could he ALREADY forget something he had been thinking about just a few minutes earlier? Sighing in annoyance, he stared at the sky, until the gentle breeze fluttered through his hair, and his eyelids began to close.
"Darn Hatori…" he muttered aloud. "He's always injecting me with sleeping medicine. When's he ever going to…learn…that it's…not helping…my…headaches…" And with that the gentle afternoon sunlight, along with the wind, lulled Akito into a deep sleep.
"Oh, hello Hari! Called 'cause you missed me so much? I know how it is…you don't like to admit it, but-"
"Shigure"
The tone in Hatori's voice told the dog that this was serious. "Hm?"
"Shigure, it's Akito…I'm afraid, it's finally started…"
Shigure was silent for a minute, and then finally replied. "I see…we've been anticipating this for a long time. And you say it's finally happened…you want me to tell the others?"
"Not yet. It would be best if no one else knew right now. I have to confirm my suspicious before you start spreading any rumors around…especially not in these kinds of matters…"
"I understand…oh, and Hari?"
"What is it, Shigure"
Taking a deep breath, Shigure dove into his comment, twirling the phone cord with his finger while he spoke. "Aaya was wondering if you'd like to model one of the dresses he's creating currently…he said the man who asked for it was about your siz-"
(click)
"…Hari?" Laughing to himself, he hung up the phone. "Oh Hari… I'll have to tell Aaya that's a 'no'. Tsk tsk…guess this means I'll have to model it!" He giggled at the idea. "Oh well, que sera sera as they say!"
However, his laughter faded, suddenly the quiet house seemed melancholy. Letting his feet wander toward a window, Shigure found himself staring outside. "So", he said aloud, his tone one of his rare serious ones. "It's started…after all these years…the countdown begins…"