Roses and tears
Roses. Tears. Tears on roses look like fresh morning drops of dew. Never before did I shed tears on the roses she gave me every Saturday. It had become an habit. Red roses. She came back from her training, covered with dirt and holding a bunch of red roses in her hands. After that, she'd take a shower and we'd spend time together.
Roses. I remember the first time she offered me roses. It was on an autumn rainy day, years ago. I and her had been through a lot of misunderstandings and silly fights. The rain was falling hard on us. I was soaked, so she was. And the drops of rain looked like diamonds on the roses. They were the most beautiful roses I had ever seen. My own tears on them were unseen, so alike the drops of rain. That was the first time she said she loved me. That is when we started our life as a couple.
Two women. A difficult relation, hardly possible at that time. We lived happily for a time though. Then World War II, anti-Semitism, homophobia, racism… total incomprehension and hatred surrounded us. We had been together for two years when it happened.
Saturday night. I'm preparing for my concert. I am a renowned violinist. Suddenly someone enters and hands me roses. I smile.
« Ms Kaioh, these has been delivered for you a minute ago. »
« Ms Tenoh isn't bringing them herself? Did she leave a message? »
« No, sorry miss. »
I felt a bit disappointed. Haruka had told me none of this on morning. Why isn't she coming? Why didn't she leave a message? Suddenly the door burst open. It is one of our friends.
« Michiru! It is awful! I've seen it all… they caught her! »
No need to ask who is « her » nor who is « they ». I already know. They are the police, and they arrested Haruka for homosexuality.
« I was there, Michiru. She was buying you roses. They caught her there… She was researched for a while… You should have seen her. So proud. She asked the policemen to hold on a minute and she paid the flowers and asked the seller to send them quickly here. They got angry and they killed her under my eyes. Michiru I am sorry I… »
My heard has stopped beating. The roses look exactly like the first time. They sparkle. They sparkle because of my tears. I won't play tonight. They're going to come for me too. As if I cared.
But I was wrong. How fool of me to think they'd leave me join her! No… The days passed. The roses faded. My tears dried. I'm empty. I won't play ever again, for she was the one for whom I played. The war ended. Atrocities were denounced. But about Haruka's death, not a whisper. I survived the war hoping they'd come for me too. They never did. After all, they couldn't. I was too famous, too rich, my family was too influent and my homosexuality too well-hidden.
So one night, a year after the end of the war. I dived into the sea from a high creek. And here she is.
This is how the story should have ended. Instead of that, I am writing this from an hospital. They say I was driven mad after Haruka died in car crash, on a rainy autumn day. They keep repeating me we are in 2007, not in 1947. They keep repeating me that Haruka, my best friend, died as she was heading apparently for the public garden. They found red roses in the car. They keep repeating me they found me in that very same public garden, unconscious, in a flowerbed on morning, that I had probably waited the whole night there, and that I could have died too. They handed me the flowers in the hospital. Red roses with a note in them « Just in case I don't dare tell it to you… I love you Michiru ».
But I'm sure about it. Even if they think I'm mad. I know I'm not, it's just that I'm dead. Haruka and I loved each other. We belong together in death.
The end
AN: Sorry, I know I'm not updating any of my stories but I'm busy with my appartment search, the selling of the house and all the things to pack. I'll try something on "The fighting rose and the rabbit from the moon" as soon as possible. I'll modify the story a bit though so I advise you to reread it... So see you soon and please tell me what you think about this very short story.