Cry

She had sheltered herself in his memory for the past five years. Now, she was truly alone.

Lilika stared as the kids wrecked havoc in the classroom.

She had already expected them to be a notorious bunch, as she had already been warned, but she had no idea they'd be more than she could handle. She hated to admit it, but the children were driving her crazy, testing her patience in almost every single imaginable way. And it was only her first day.

They started the day with a prayer, but they weren't even halfway through it when one of the kids, a big-eyed brunette named Fuuko, started crying. Her seatmate, a little boy with sleek black hair that seemed to have been submerged in a tub of gel and whose name she couldn't recall, had been pulling her hair for no reason at all. When Fuuko's friend – a pretty girl whose name she couldn't recall, either – had hit the boy in the head for such an act, the boy burst into tears and started a chain reaction that ended with the entire class crying.

And that was only the beginning.

When they had all calmed down, Lilika decided to leave the prayer unfinished and move on to an action song, in hopes to cheer the kids up. It almost went well until another one of her students cried and complained because he couldn't tell which hand was right or left. She then told the class to get their crayons and papers and have fun with them, while she'd coach the poor child.

But she had only finished teaching the boy when another fight erupted between the twins Mina and Rina. Rina had earlier asked permission to borrow a blue crayon from the class box, and Mina followed; Mina, however, apparently wanted the very same crayon and wouldn't settle for any other, regardless if it was blue, while Rina refused to give up what she had taken. The twins ended up shouting at each other, and, well, crying.

And then the rest of the class decided to color the floor and even the walls.

I'm going to get fired, Lilika thought as she slapped her forehead.

She had to resist the urge to cry.

-x-

She looked at her watch and frowned. Class had already been dismissed half an hour before, yet one of her students still hadn't been picked up. Knowing that the child must've already gotten bored, she took one of the coloring books she kept inside her drawer as well as their class crayon box, and offered them to the boy, who took them eagerly and began coloring almost immediately.

There was something familiar about him, that she immediately noticed as she took a closer look. It was something about his smile, or the way his beautiful brown orbs twinkled as he thanked her.

Takeru, she read from the boy's ID. She smiled. I'll check the class record.

She took a moment to ruffle Takeru's hair before she proceeded back to her desk, noticing that he was too caught up with his coloring and apparently didn't want to be bothered. She had only sat down when there was a knock on the classroom door; immediately, she got to her feet to meet her guest, having the gut feeling that it would be the boy's parents.

And she was right. As soon as she opened the door a woman stepped in, apologizing for picking up her son so late. She seemed a little too young to have a child, a toddler though Takeru was, and she was wearing only a sweatshirt and a pair of jogging pants. But Lilika only smiled and gestured towards the boy, telling his mother that everything was fine, that having him stay beyond class hours hadn't been a burden, and that he had behaved well.

"Oh, thank goodness. Not that Takeru's a problem child, but we've had him homeschooled the past two years and I was a bit skeptical if he'd be able to stand being around so many people. He's introverted and a little silent, but he takes it after his dad, I guess. Thank you so much for taking care of him, Miss…"

"Tobita," she supplied. "Lilika Tobita."

Their hands had almost touched for a handshake when the woman pulled back hers.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"I'm sorry," the other woman suddenly apologized, her face flushing bright red. She quickly turned to her little boy and motioned him to come over. "Takeru, dear, we have to go now."

As the woman hurriedly left the room, Takeru in tow, Lilika looked on in confusion, unable to comprehend what had just happened. She wondered if she had done or said something to make Takeru's mother react the way she did, but she remembered that she had received that reaction only after giving the woman her name. Before that, they had been getting along just fine, and were in fact engaged in a lively conversation.

Not really knowing what she was doing it for, she decided to go after the woman.

And afterwards found herself wishing that she hadn't.

She caught up with her, all right. She was getting in a limousine when she had arrived, panting, apparently having decided to make a run for it. But that wasn't what caught her off-guard – it was the handsome man who stood by the vehicle, who seemed just as surprised to see her.

Takeshi, who recovered first, walked up to her and shook her hand. "Hello."

"Hi," she found herself saying instantaneously, though she still did not know what was going on or what she was even doing. When she was finally aware of it and had wanted to pull back and break the connection, it was already too late; he already had his iron grip on her.

"I hope you're doing well," he said. It was rather awkward.

She nodded. "You too."

Then, he smiled, but it was no longer the familiar smile that had captivated her heart. And his brown eyes no longer had the familiar twinkle that caused butterflies to fly in her stomach. What had happened? Had it really been that long? But it had only been five years; five years wasn't that long a time, was it?

And then he answered her.

Not directly, but he answered her, silencing all her qualms and that of her heart's.

"So, you've met my wife."

She had to resist the urge to cry.

-x-

And raindrops started to fall.

She couldn't understand. No, she didn't want to understand. Why did he keep her waiting, all those years, for nothing? He could've just walked up to her, told her in the face that he didn't love her, that he couldn't love her, and that would've been it. Game over. Fin. Owari. End of story.

She wouldn't have to hurt like this.

Then, she laughed; a humorless, bitter laugh.

Who was she kidding?

The truth was, he didn't keep her waiting. She voluntary did that herself. He had ended their relationship five years ago, yet she desperately held on to its memory, hoping and praying that someday the hearts that had been shattered would be put back together again. After their breakup he made no attempt to communicate with her, disappearing completely from her world. It was only today that she ever saw him again.

He didn't bother to explain to her what had happened to him all those years. After all, he had no obligation to. He simply made it known to her that Takeru was his son and that woman was his wife; then, he said "So long," and let go of her hand, leaving her standing all alone.

She had sheltered herself in his memory for the past five years.

Now, she was truly alone.

And this time, she couldn't resist the urge to cry.