Father For You

Father For You

Iori turned in his bed and had a disrupting look on his sleeping face. His eyes were clenched shut as tight as his fists were. But other than that, everything was calm. The night was full of clouds, sheltering the light from the stars and moon, and the cold only made things worse. Weeks have passed with memories running through Iori's dreams. Of his mother, of his grandfather, but the most nerve-racking, the dreams were of his father. Now, Iori knew that there was no possible way that he could gain his father back, so he took in these dreams as if it was his father who was pushing these painful scenes into his mind as a punishment. Punishment for not doing something to stop him going from his home to his work only to be killed in the act. A simple thing called 'work'. Ever since he heard of his father's death, Iori believed it was his own entire fault.

Iori's eyes flashed open and of all that seemed painful and horrid, disappeared. His hand raised to swipe a bead of sweat from his brow and then he closed his eyes to finish his sleep.

"Iori, is something wrong?" his mother questioned while preparing one of her famous breakfast delights. The young boy looked up from his hands and to the eyes of his mother.

"Not at all." He answered, "I am just thinking."

"Don't think too hard," she teased, "you'll cause early wrinkles on your forehead."

Iori smiled just a little, "Okay, Mom."

At the moment, his grandfather walked in with a cup of prune juice in his hand. Automatically, he stopped and looked at the youth.

"What is troubling you?"

Iori raised his eyes from his hands again to look at his grandfather. "Nothing, Grandpa."

"Do not lie."

"I promise you, I am not lying."

"Then maybe you don't know what is wrong."

"I don't think anything is wrong."

"You know what can help you find that out?" his grandfather opened the refrigerator and reached to grab something.

"Prune juice," Iori said with his grandfather. The elder looked at him and laughed.

"You spend too much time with prune juice." Mrs. Hida said and set some of the wonderful food on the three plates.

"You can never have too much prune juice!" Grandfather said back and sat down beside his grandson. "Prune juice helps relax the body."

"Not to mention you can buy it at the market for three pounds per--"

"Ha! Store bought prune juice is phony." Iori remarked in completion with his grandfather's reply.

"That's right. Your son is going to grow up to be a genius. Can you guess why?"

"Because of prune juice." The three said. Iori watched his mother and grandfather burst into laughter while he started to fold his napkin over his lap.

"I'll have to exit on the breakfast," Grandfather straightened his back and sipped his refreshment.

"What for?" Iori asked that question all the time when his mother or grandfather decided to leave early in the morning.

"Oh, so do I. The kids wanted to try the luncheon foods today. I should go and prepare…"

"But what about breakfast?" Iori asked another question.

"You can eat my portion." His mother kissed him on the forehead and excused herself.

His grandfather set down a fresh cup of prune juice and added, "Don't forget to drink some prune juice, Iori."

The youth waited until he heard his grandpa's footsteps exit the apartment building. Soon, his mother rushed in to kiss him one last time and instructed him to make his bed. Then she, too, walked out of the home. Iori still sat with his feet dangling from the chair and his fork still in his hand. Within the five minutes, he was laughing with his family, then staring at the plate all alone. Amazing how things can whip the time away in a second.

"By the way… Mother, I've been having strange dreams. And do you know who it was about?" Iori dropped his fork into the scrumptious food on his plate and stood up. His voice lowered into a whisper and tears scattered into his eyes, "It was about Father."

He sighed and took his plate to the sink. Before setting it inside, her removed the food and put it back onto the frying pan. The youth then walked into his room to make his bed. Later on, he exited the apartment and walked to his friend Miyako's home. When he knocked, her older, blonder, brother answered and told him that she went to Hikari's. Since he couldn't leave the apartment building without permission, he walked up one flat and knocked on Takeru's door. The blond answered and waved with a peace sign.

"What's up, Iori?" he asked.

"I didn't have anything to do…"

"Oh."

"Hey, Takeru?" Ms. Takaishi walked behind him with a computer wire in her hands.

Takeru turned around, "Yeah?"

"I know were this goes…" she started, "but I don't know why it won't fit."

"I'm not a computer genius, Mom." Takeru took the cord in his hand, "But I'll try."

The tall friend walked into the bedroom and called out, "You plugged the other cord in the wrong place."

Iori looked up at Ms. Takaishi and she turned to walk into the bedroom. "Well then… where does THAT one go?"

"Gee, Mom…"

Iori sighed and closed the door. Walking back to his own apartment, he opened the door and noticed the time that passed by. Four whole minutes had flown by like a jet plane.

"Great," Iori sighed and curled up on the couch. He set his head on the armrest and closed his eyes. "I guess it's one of those days."

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep. And it didn't take long for his dreams to start. All the jagged memories of father seemed to be glued together in one horrible movie. His father's voice played over and over with what he remembered so long ago.

"It's only another wacko and another case. I'll be home in time for dinner."

"Make sure Iori sleeps well; he stayed up all night listening to my stories."

"Only another wacko…"

"I'll be home in time for dinner."

"Son, you know how much I love my job."

"Only another case."

"But I'd never let my job get in the way of my family."

"I'll be home in time for dinner."

And the pictures of his dad were only a little amount. He hadn't known his dad as well has he wished. Iori dreamed of meeting him again. Only if his dreams would come true. But these dreams he has been having lately weren't peaceful and perfect. As strange as it seems, they were filled with blood and tears. This is what led Iori to think of his punishment. If Iori had only kept his father from going to work that day, everything would be perfect. Maybe his father knew it was his son's fault. Or so Iori thought. He also thought that this was the only way his father could get a hold of him. A code, a system, a method to get a hold of his lost son! Mr. Hida was always full of codes and sayings that meant something else. And only he and Iori knew them! So it had to be the works of his father. It just had to be!

A knock on the door interrupted Iori's fifteen-minute nap. Iori turned the doorknob and looked up at the man in front of him.

"F-Father?"

Iori sat up for real and gripped the armrest of the couch. "I hate those kinds of dreams…"

For a solid minute, Iori sat in utter shock from the dream. Then in the next minute, he literally jumped a few feet off the ground because of the knock on the door. He twisted the doorknob and threw open the door, expecting his father to kneel down and open his arms for a hug. Instead, Miyako stood with a doughnut in hand.

"Hey, my mom said you stopped by. She said you sounded upset about something. So I bought you your favorite doughnut." Miyako put it in his hand and smiled friendly.

"Thanks, Miyako."

"No problem. So what's wrong?"

"Nothing really…"

"Aw! Come on. Doctor Miyako Inoue is here to help!"

Iori invited her in and kindly took her coat like a polite person would.

"You worry too much about being polite, Iori. I mean… loosen up. I could have put my own coat away." Miyako placed herself on the couch and patted the cushion with her hand.

"My father said that being polite is very important in a friendship." Iori sat down next to the girl and nibbled at the end of the maple-glazed doughnut.

"But you've known me for awhile. Don't be afraid to forget about me and laugh in my face," she winked and giggled. He smiled and broke off a piece of the pastry. Holding it out to Miyako, she took it with a thank you.

"So you wouldn't mind if I told you about the dreams I've been having?" Iori questioned curiously.

"Not at all. Tell away."

-

"So that's why I sounded disappointed. I just felt alone and unsure of myself at the moment." Iori concluded. "But I feel better knowing that you are wanting to care."

"That's what friends are for. As for those dreams…" Miyako set her hand on his shoulder and looked him straight in the eye. "It's not any way of a punishment. It wasn't your fault. Never blame yourself for things like this. You know it wasn't your blame so you shouldn't take it. And those dreams are just that of stress and worry. You don't want to be alone…"

Iori winced at the last words. "But my dad always used to talk to me in the codes and I was sure that he…"

"Iori, he's always going to be with you."

He felt the tears roll out of his eyes.

"And maybe those dreams are because he's with you. But you bring all the fear and blood and tears into your dreams because you think it's your fault. But it's not, Iori. You have to understand that."

"Miya-san…" Iori hung his head and felt her arms around his body. He didn't want to believe that she was right, but she was. She was right about him bringing the bad things into everything good. But how else could he have looked upon this happening? Iori wished on so many stars, on so many birthdays, on so many other wishes that he could have wished for bicycles or other things kids could have asked for. All he wanted was one thing in the entire world, but he never got it. Strange as it sounds, he began to get jealous of those who learned how to ride their bike without training wheels with their fathers. He'd never get to experience the father-to-son talks and jokes. It would always be grandfather-to-grandson talks.

"Io-kun, please believe me. I know you might think differently, but it's not your fault."

"Miya-san…" Iori tilted his chin to his chest and clenched his eyes shut.

"Shh, don't be afraid to cry, 'kay?" Miyako rocked him like she would to a baby.

He couldn't believe how she pinpointed the problem and how she attempted to fix it. Knowing that she hadn't lost a parent, Iori was amazed of how she brought his feelings out. How he was so scared of not having a father frightened him. His mother and grandfather leaving just for the morning reminded of how his father left him permanently.

"Miya-san," he said for the third time, trying to ask the question that burned in his mind ever since that day. "Would you know if-if he left me… forever?"

"Do you still remember him? Do you still know him? Do you still love him?"

"Yes, I do, Miya..."

Miyako smiled through her own tears. "Then no, Io-kun. Your father will still be with you no matter what as long as you still love him."

The young boy rubbed his eyes with his sleeve and looked up at her. "Are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure." She smiled proudly, "Aren't I always."

"N--"

"Don't answer that."

Iori grinned a bit. "Thanks, Miyako."

"That's what friends are for."

To her surprise, she felt Iori hug her tightly and ask, "You'll never leave me, will you?"

"No," she whispered back and returned the hug, "I'll always be here for you. You just have to promise me that you'll stop those dreams."

That night, Iori prepared to go to sleep. As his mother walked in to tuck him in, Iori stopped her before she left the room.

"Mother?" he called, staring at the ceiling. She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked down at her son with the light from the hallway falling onto his face.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, just like earlier that morning.

"No," he answered. "I just wanted to say goodnight like I used to."

Mrs. Hida smiled and kissed him on the forehead.

"Goodnight, Mother. I love you." Iori said quietly and closed his eyes.

Before he fell asleep, he whispered to himself, "Father, for you… I won't blame myself. Because I know that you'll always be with me…"

That night, Iori had his first dream of his father that wasn't full of grief in a long time. Instead of tears, there was laughter; instead of blood, there was mud. He had a dream of a past memory. Iori once fell into a large puddle of mud when playing in the rain. And his father had lifted him up in his large hands and held him close even though he was covered in the wet earth. It was one memory that he remembered fully and he remembered it on his own. No one told him about the story; no one showed him a picture. For the first time in all of his dreams, he finally told the words he wanted to say for a long time, and his father said them back.

"I love you, Papa."

"I love you too, son."

Story: Terminated

Point: Iori/Miyako friendship and Iori-missing-father story.

Title Problem: I know it's lame. Don't rub it in. ~-~;

Stupidity: That just equals me. Oh, I don't know if I would have used Miya-chan or if -san was okay. O.o;

Author's Note: I don't know when Iori's father died, so I'm hoping it was when he was old enough to experience all this stuff. O.o; And I tried to capture the feelings. 'Cause my daddy-poo died when I was younger and I always blamed myself. I remember having those weird dreams. So I thought maybe Iori would be a character that could feel the same type o' things I did 'cause he seems like that kind of person. So I know it's kind of sucky, but if you don't understand how hard it is to bring back all that emotion and put it under a character's name, then you could flame me about it. ^-~ But if you have the slightest idea of how hard it is and you still think it sucks… Flame me anyway. ^-^

Last Comment: I know it kind of sucks, but I tried. I don't know enough about Iori to write a whole story on him. I'm sorry, Kyra. ~.~ I failed.

Anything Else?: Nope. Go ahead and flame me now…