Title: The promise he made.
Fandom: Cyborg 009.
Summary: A woman has died, and the priest who assisted her in her last moments has some things to think about... Notes: Entry for the "Write about Joe's mom" challenge in a certain ML. Spoilers for Joe's backstory. And I also inserted an OC; hope she's not too much of a Sue...
----
For a man like him, death was not a new thing. Since he was considered as a sort of spiritual leader in his community, thanks to his investiture, the father in charge of a little Catholic church next to the sea of the Kanazawa prefecture was used to see people of all ages and conditions die, and he assisted all of them to make sure their demised were peaceful and diginified. Good, evil, young, old; he didn't majorly care, and even if he did, he would help them anyway. The Lord's words talked about love and acceptance; he was no one to refuse.
One would think that, after more than 30 years in this service, he would be already jaded, and the pain of others would leave him cold...
But that wasn't fully true, no. And rhe pain he was experiencing at the sight of her lifeless body was the proof.
Maybe that was because he knew her from quite a while. The young woman who was lying dead on the hospital bed he was standing next to... She had moved around seven years ago to a small house located few blocks away of the church, and it was usual to see her playing with the orphans he took care of. She wasn't present in every mass service, nor comulgated very frequently, and wasn't very convinced about telling him her sins in the confessionary - burt she'd be the very first one volunteering to take care of the kids when the priest had to go out, or do chores in the church itself.
That was, until her father died, and she decided to move to the city itself. Since her mother died whe she was a baby, she decided to build a life of her own in the place with more work chances and social movement, and not even the priest' s warnings or the kid's pleas made her change her mind about it. None of them would forget the afternoon she went away not to ever get back, her travel bag in a hand and her purse in the toher, sad but determined to fin her place in the circle of life.
And all she got was to die, and leave a baby boy alone in the world.
The priest shook his head and started at a small white cradle by the bed. Her baby boy, barely two or three months old, slept peacefully in it, at least until the moment the nurse would come in to take him to the pediatric unit, in some minutes. In her sporadic letters and telephone calls, his mother never told anybody that she was pregnant or anything by those lines, so that way he and the kids found her almost dead with her baby in the church's doorstep had been a complete shocker...
And that fateful night, the baby was crying atop of his tiny lungs, and in fact what alerted him and the children about what was going on in front of them were those cries. Well, what else could that poor baby do, anyway? Babies can't talk, nor move, crying is their only way to communicate with others. And his wails were what saved his life, too...
The priest extended a hand, and a big finger touched the small and pinkish cheek of the baby, who sighed and moved in dreams but didn't wake up. He looked happy... and unaware of the tragic story related to himself and the young woman who gave birth to him.
The same one who was lying so close to him, pale, cold, like a sot of Sleeping Beauty who would not ever wake up. And after dying some minutes ago, now she looked more like a sort of dol than a human being. The younger kids of the church would get scared, thinking she was a statue ot something...
How can you tell a group of little childen that not only old people die? How can you break their illusions, show them the reality of death?
Well... the kids in the church weren't exactly innocent or spared of harshness. Several times, both the older kids (the eldest one was about to turn twelve) and younger ones (how old were they? Three? Four?) came to his office crying because other children laughed at their condition of orphans, or said out loud in front of them that they were abandoned by their families because they didn't care. They had already to close their eyes to avoid seeing the injustice and cruelty of the world. Now, one of the few persons kind to them was gone forever, and despite all of the times he had dealt with death, the priest almost wished he didn't have to tell them this bitter truth...
Suddenly, as he was going to call on the nurses to let them take the baby to the pediatric section, he heard the noise of the door being opened. A girl about eight years old, if not a little younger, came in and stared at him with her big brown eyes, like worldessly asking him if she could get in.
"Ah, Shiori...", he said. She was one of the oldest kids in the orphanage, very extroverted and talkative, and the closest to the recently deceased woman. Most likely she was chosen by her peers as a sort of messenger, with the mission of finding out what happened. The paper folder she had in her hand said so.
"Father...", she started.
"How come the nurses permitted you to come in here alone, sweetheart?", he asked first. Children that young normally weren't allowed unless they came in with older persons...
"I said I had to talk to you urgently, father, so they allowed me and said you'd be responsible...". She blushed and looked guilty. "But I had no foul intention, sir! I just wanted to see Miss Shimamura and give her the get-well cards we all made for her at school! Will the Lord punish me for lying, huh?".
The man smiled. "He sees in the mind of people and knows their intentions, Shiori. Can't promise you that He will let it pass fully, but He will understand that you have a good heart and meant well".
The explanation seemed enough for Shiori, who smiled at him, then turned to the bed. She stared at the woman for several seconds, not saying anything...
"Shiori?", he asked.
"Miss Shimamura...". Her voice sounded broken, weak. "She looks like my mother...".
Shiori was pale, and her hands were trembling.
"Like my mother... when she died...".
The folder fell to the ground, and with it, several cards. Card with suns and flowers painted, "Get well Miss Shimamura" messages written, even one with a blue baby cradle painted in it. All of them were made by the children of the church...
Shiori failed to hold herself back, and threw herself crying in the arms of the priest. He held his protegée back, knowing from experience tha no words coulds console her by the moment, and that letting her cry would be the best...
As he thought, the sobs slowly turned into short hiccups, and the tears subdued. Shiori then let go of him, washed her tears away with the back of her hand, and stared at her mentor.
"Father... did Miss Shimamura die in peace?".
He chose not to lie, and sporke slowly. "Well... Shiori, do you remember how weak she was when we found her last night, thanks to the illness she already had by the time she went to the city, but was only discovered by the doctors few months she had her baby?".
Shiori nodded. "Yes...".
"I called the doctor because she was getting weaker as hours passed, and was even worse after you and the other children had to go to school in the morning. So, the doctor decided to bring Miss Shimamura here, to see if his workmates could so more... but it was too late for her. So, few ago she slept in, and died while sleeping. She felt no pain, dear, if that's what you want to know".
"But father, if she was so ill, why didn't she want to get treated?".
He stopped for some seconds, trying to choose his words. "Well, Shiori... You see, she never wanted to be a burden to us, so when she found out that she was pregnant and later that she had that illness, she never wanted to call. Also, the medical treatment Miss Shimamura needed would have harmed her still-not-born baby, so she preferred to wait until he was born; but her estimations were wrong, because her sickness was more serious than what she thought it was... and you see what happened in the end".
A sigh was the little girl's reply. Shiori sniffled, and the priest thought she'd start crying again. But instead, she walked to the cradle where the baby still was sleeping.
"Father...", she started.
"Yes, Shiori?".
"... did Miss Shimamura say something about Joe before she died?".
Joe... An American name, chosen by the baby's mother. Maybe it was related to the biological father who never was there for both of them, or maybe didn't even know about his son? There was no way to know it; the mother died without giving any clues, after all.
The priest closed his eyes. Few minutes before she fell asleep to never awaken, she did request something related to her child.
"... Yes".
Shiori looked at him. "What did she say? Can I know?".
Her voice sounded more child-like and lively. The man immediately guessed what she was thinking of. And the words that the dying mother pronounced came back to his mind. So, he smiled as he replied...
"She wanted Joe to say with us, Shiori. She asked him to let him stay at the church from now on".
"And why didn't you tell me earlier, father?", and the little girl giggled. "Joe is staying! That's so good, you see! Something good has to come from such a sad fact...".
"Really?", the priest asked, surprised at how soon Shiori seemed to get over the death of her friend.
She tilted her head. "Yup, yup. She's dead, father, but...", and she sighed as she stared at the ground for two or three seconds. Then, she looked up, smiling a little. "But Joe is alive. Isn't it like she's still with us, in a sense? Miss Shimamura has not completely left! And we'll do out best to make sure Joe grows up into a good man, someone as good as his mom... Will we?".
It wouldn't be as easy as Shiori thought, honestly. The father would have to follow all the legal procedures, go to many places, and convince lots of experts that he would be able to raise such a little baby adequately at the church. But he had accepted, and a promise was a promise...
He would do all in his power to fulfill his own word. He would not fail to Shiori, Joe, and his noow deceased mother. No.
With that in his mind, he looked at Shiori, and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Yes. We will... But now, dear, be a good girl and do as I say. Go back to the church and tell the other kids what happened. Then, ask Yukari to make lunch for all of you, do your homework and go to bed. I have many things to do here, so I might come back very late in the night. But if everything goes well, then in some days I'll be able to bring Joe home".
"Okay, father", Shiori replied brightly. "I will do as you told me, but in exchange you'll do your best to get Joe to come home, will you?".
"... Promised".
The little girl smiled. Then she got closer to the cradle, tiptoed, and kissed the baby lightly on the cheek. After this, she picked up the folder and the cards from the floor and quickly got out of the room, leaving the priest again alone with his thoughts.
Yes, getting Joe's custody wouldn't be easy. But he had made the promise twice; once to his mother, and now to Shiori. He would fight for it, and he was sure that the Lord would be by his side as He had always been.
After some minutes, he finally sighed.
"Rest in peace, dear...", he murmured. "I'll make sure Joe grows up into a good man".
And, with this decision firmly engraved in his heart, he went to the door to call out for the head nurse.
Fandom: Cyborg 009.
Summary: A woman has died, and the priest who assisted her in her last moments has some things to think about... Notes: Entry for the "Write about Joe's mom" challenge in a certain ML. Spoilers for Joe's backstory. And I also inserted an OC; hope she's not too much of a Sue...
----
For a man like him, death was not a new thing. Since he was considered as a sort of spiritual leader in his community, thanks to his investiture, the father in charge of a little Catholic church next to the sea of the Kanazawa prefecture was used to see people of all ages and conditions die, and he assisted all of them to make sure their demised were peaceful and diginified. Good, evil, young, old; he didn't majorly care, and even if he did, he would help them anyway. The Lord's words talked about love and acceptance; he was no one to refuse.
One would think that, after more than 30 years in this service, he would be already jaded, and the pain of others would leave him cold...
But that wasn't fully true, no. And rhe pain he was experiencing at the sight of her lifeless body was the proof.
Maybe that was because he knew her from quite a while. The young woman who was lying dead on the hospital bed he was standing next to... She had moved around seven years ago to a small house located few blocks away of the church, and it was usual to see her playing with the orphans he took care of. She wasn't present in every mass service, nor comulgated very frequently, and wasn't very convinced about telling him her sins in the confessionary - burt she'd be the very first one volunteering to take care of the kids when the priest had to go out, or do chores in the church itself.
That was, until her father died, and she decided to move to the city itself. Since her mother died whe she was a baby, she decided to build a life of her own in the place with more work chances and social movement, and not even the priest' s warnings or the kid's pleas made her change her mind about it. None of them would forget the afternoon she went away not to ever get back, her travel bag in a hand and her purse in the toher, sad but determined to fin her place in the circle of life.
And all she got was to die, and leave a baby boy alone in the world.
The priest shook his head and started at a small white cradle by the bed. Her baby boy, barely two or three months old, slept peacefully in it, at least until the moment the nurse would come in to take him to the pediatric unit, in some minutes. In her sporadic letters and telephone calls, his mother never told anybody that she was pregnant or anything by those lines, so that way he and the kids found her almost dead with her baby in the church's doorstep had been a complete shocker...
And that fateful night, the baby was crying atop of his tiny lungs, and in fact what alerted him and the children about what was going on in front of them were those cries. Well, what else could that poor baby do, anyway? Babies can't talk, nor move, crying is their only way to communicate with others. And his wails were what saved his life, too...
The priest extended a hand, and a big finger touched the small and pinkish cheek of the baby, who sighed and moved in dreams but didn't wake up. He looked happy... and unaware of the tragic story related to himself and the young woman who gave birth to him.
The same one who was lying so close to him, pale, cold, like a sot of Sleeping Beauty who would not ever wake up. And after dying some minutes ago, now she looked more like a sort of dol than a human being. The younger kids of the church would get scared, thinking she was a statue ot something...
How can you tell a group of little childen that not only old people die? How can you break their illusions, show them the reality of death?
Well... the kids in the church weren't exactly innocent or spared of harshness. Several times, both the older kids (the eldest one was about to turn twelve) and younger ones (how old were they? Three? Four?) came to his office crying because other children laughed at their condition of orphans, or said out loud in front of them that they were abandoned by their families because they didn't care. They had already to close their eyes to avoid seeing the injustice and cruelty of the world. Now, one of the few persons kind to them was gone forever, and despite all of the times he had dealt with death, the priest almost wished he didn't have to tell them this bitter truth...
Suddenly, as he was going to call on the nurses to let them take the baby to the pediatric section, he heard the noise of the door being opened. A girl about eight years old, if not a little younger, came in and stared at him with her big brown eyes, like worldessly asking him if she could get in.
"Ah, Shiori...", he said. She was one of the oldest kids in the orphanage, very extroverted and talkative, and the closest to the recently deceased woman. Most likely she was chosen by her peers as a sort of messenger, with the mission of finding out what happened. The paper folder she had in her hand said so.
"Father...", she started.
"How come the nurses permitted you to come in here alone, sweetheart?", he asked first. Children that young normally weren't allowed unless they came in with older persons...
"I said I had to talk to you urgently, father, so they allowed me and said you'd be responsible...". She blushed and looked guilty. "But I had no foul intention, sir! I just wanted to see Miss Shimamura and give her the get-well cards we all made for her at school! Will the Lord punish me for lying, huh?".
The man smiled. "He sees in the mind of people and knows their intentions, Shiori. Can't promise you that He will let it pass fully, but He will understand that you have a good heart and meant well".
The explanation seemed enough for Shiori, who smiled at him, then turned to the bed. She stared at the woman for several seconds, not saying anything...
"Shiori?", he asked.
"Miss Shimamura...". Her voice sounded broken, weak. "She looks like my mother...".
Shiori was pale, and her hands were trembling.
"Like my mother... when she died...".
The folder fell to the ground, and with it, several cards. Card with suns and flowers painted, "Get well Miss Shimamura" messages written, even one with a blue baby cradle painted in it. All of them were made by the children of the church...
Shiori failed to hold herself back, and threw herself crying in the arms of the priest. He held his protegée back, knowing from experience tha no words coulds console her by the moment, and that letting her cry would be the best...
As he thought, the sobs slowly turned into short hiccups, and the tears subdued. Shiori then let go of him, washed her tears away with the back of her hand, and stared at her mentor.
"Father... did Miss Shimamura die in peace?".
He chose not to lie, and sporke slowly. "Well... Shiori, do you remember how weak she was when we found her last night, thanks to the illness she already had by the time she went to the city, but was only discovered by the doctors few months she had her baby?".
Shiori nodded. "Yes...".
"I called the doctor because she was getting weaker as hours passed, and was even worse after you and the other children had to go to school in the morning. So, the doctor decided to bring Miss Shimamura here, to see if his workmates could so more... but it was too late for her. So, few ago she slept in, and died while sleeping. She felt no pain, dear, if that's what you want to know".
"But father, if she was so ill, why didn't she want to get treated?".
He stopped for some seconds, trying to choose his words. "Well, Shiori... You see, she never wanted to be a burden to us, so when she found out that she was pregnant and later that she had that illness, she never wanted to call. Also, the medical treatment Miss Shimamura needed would have harmed her still-not-born baby, so she preferred to wait until he was born; but her estimations were wrong, because her sickness was more serious than what she thought it was... and you see what happened in the end".
A sigh was the little girl's reply. Shiori sniffled, and the priest thought she'd start crying again. But instead, she walked to the cradle where the baby still was sleeping.
"Father...", she started.
"Yes, Shiori?".
"... did Miss Shimamura say something about Joe before she died?".
Joe... An American name, chosen by the baby's mother. Maybe it was related to the biological father who never was there for both of them, or maybe didn't even know about his son? There was no way to know it; the mother died without giving any clues, after all.
The priest closed his eyes. Few minutes before she fell asleep to never awaken, she did request something related to her child.
"... Yes".
Shiori looked at him. "What did she say? Can I know?".
Her voice sounded more child-like and lively. The man immediately guessed what she was thinking of. And the words that the dying mother pronounced came back to his mind. So, he smiled as he replied...
"She wanted Joe to say with us, Shiori. She asked him to let him stay at the church from now on".
"And why didn't you tell me earlier, father?", and the little girl giggled. "Joe is staying! That's so good, you see! Something good has to come from such a sad fact...".
"Really?", the priest asked, surprised at how soon Shiori seemed to get over the death of her friend.
She tilted her head. "Yup, yup. She's dead, father, but...", and she sighed as she stared at the ground for two or three seconds. Then, she looked up, smiling a little. "But Joe is alive. Isn't it like she's still with us, in a sense? Miss Shimamura has not completely left! And we'll do out best to make sure Joe grows up into a good man, someone as good as his mom... Will we?".
It wouldn't be as easy as Shiori thought, honestly. The father would have to follow all the legal procedures, go to many places, and convince lots of experts that he would be able to raise such a little baby adequately at the church. But he had accepted, and a promise was a promise...
He would do all in his power to fulfill his own word. He would not fail to Shiori, Joe, and his noow deceased mother. No.
With that in his mind, he looked at Shiori, and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Yes. We will... But now, dear, be a good girl and do as I say. Go back to the church and tell the other kids what happened. Then, ask Yukari to make lunch for all of you, do your homework and go to bed. I have many things to do here, so I might come back very late in the night. But if everything goes well, then in some days I'll be able to bring Joe home".
"Okay, father", Shiori replied brightly. "I will do as you told me, but in exchange you'll do your best to get Joe to come home, will you?".
"... Promised".
The little girl smiled. Then she got closer to the cradle, tiptoed, and kissed the baby lightly on the cheek. After this, she picked up the folder and the cards from the floor and quickly got out of the room, leaving the priest again alone with his thoughts.
Yes, getting Joe's custody wouldn't be easy. But he had made the promise twice; once to his mother, and now to Shiori. He would fight for it, and he was sure that the Lord would be by his side as He had always been.
After some minutes, he finally sighed.
"Rest in peace, dear...", he murmured. "I'll make sure Joe grows up into a good man".
And, with this decision firmly engraved in his heart, he went to the door to call out for the head nurse.