As the Bell Rings
- Chapter 13: December 23-
PART III
It did not take long for Yamato to find Koushiro. Koushiro just stepped outside of his father's hospital room with his mother trailing behind him. She looked perfectly well for her age. Her faded red hair was tied back, and her eyes were tired with stress. After she closed the door, she turned to her son and gently caressed his arms.
"Koushiro," She said with a soft voice. "You should go home and rest. You've been here visiting since you arrived."
Koushiro shook his head. "I'm okay, Okaa-san. I would like to stay longer."
"Koushiro." His mother repeated once more with a stern look.
Koushiro made a playful smile and nodded. He sighed, "Okay, I will go." His mother replied with another kind smile before she planted a chaste kiss on her son's forehead. Koushiro took a step back and rubbed the spot with a faint red glow on his cheeks. "Okaa-san…!"
"I'm sorry." She giggled as she brought up her fist to hide her laughter. "You're still my little boy." She lowered her hand and rested it on the door handle. "I will call you if anything happens." She waved as she entered the room and closed the door behind her. Waving goodbye in return, Koushiro stood outside his father's door, looking through the small window with pensive eyes.
Watching Koushiro reminded Yamato of how much Koushiro often stared at his computer screen.
During the first months of their freshman year, they barely spoke two sentences to each other daily. Yamato soon discovered parties while Koushiro obtained research opportunities. They were two opposite parts of the spectrum and Yamato found that they had no similar interest other than coming from nearby hometowns. Yamato did, however, notice that Koushiro would often come into their room with a bloody lip and dirt on his clothes. Rather than asking or expressing any concern, Yamato kept quiet and chose to ignore the redhead's appearance.
One day, as Yamato was making his way across the quad, he noticed Koushiro being pulled away by three larger students to an alley way. Curious, Yamato followed them.
The students pushed Koushiro against the wall then threw him against a metal trash can. Contents inside the can spilled over the ground. Being small and not as physically fit, Koushiro awkwardly swam in the filth and struggled to pick up his own weight.
"Doh yuu ahnderstando Engurish?" One student mimicked offensively before pressing the outsole of his shoe on Koushiro's back.
Koushiro groaned. "Get off of me." He replied as his lips moved against the pavement.
"You're a snitch, you know that?" Another asked. "You know what snitches are? Trash." He kicked the remains of the trash against Koushiro's face and clothes, one of which was a rotten core of an apple. It rolled on the pavement, picking up any germs and dirt it can take.
The last student made a sickening smirk and used his shoe to press the disturbing sight against Koushiro's face. "Eat it, Trash."
Koushiro furrowed his brows and spat directly at his shoe. Immediately, three legs kicked Koushiro's body simultaneously. From different angles, Koushiro flinched as each impact made a new bruise on his body. His hands gripped, obviously fighting with whatever strength he had. However, in a battle of three against one, Koushiro just groaned and withstood each attack.
"Think about this next time you report us cheating, Trash." One spat.
The gooey saliva spread across his visible cheek was the last straw. Whether he talked to his roommate or not, Yamato could not just spectate the cruelty and neglect to take any action. He whistled, earning three sets of eyes to stare at him. "Back off. He's my roommate."
"This doesn't concern you, Ishida." One said with a glare. "This is between the fag and us."
Yamato smirked. "Do you know the best thing about technology is? It's always there when you need it." Yamato cocked his head towards the cellphone in his hand. "I've recorded what you've done."
"Delete it."
"I can't, you see." Yamato laughed. "Assholes like you shouldn't be bring good guys like my roommate down. You should've just studied for the test."
The trio left Koushiro and ran towards Yamato. Yamato did his best to stand-off against three people. Punches and jabs flew whichever way. When Yamato started to resort to biting, that's when the three of them started to back away.
Yamato, weak in one arm, moved back and forth slightly to prove his ability to still move. He breathed heavily through his open mouth. "Come on. Is that all you got?"
The three were about to make another move until they heard a deep voice. Looking up, they saw a group of men, dressed uniformly in dark clothes. The three of them looked at each other, panic across their faces and scattered away from each other. While the group of offers ran after the gang, one ran to Yamato and rested his hand on the blond's back. "You okay, son?"
"I'm fine." Yamato said in between breaths.
The officer pulled out his push-to-talk device and called for medical assistance as well as back up.
Yamato limped his way to Koushiro and collapsed on the ground and sat next to Koushiro who still laid belly down on the ground. Yamato heaved, "Are you okay?" He propped his knees up for his arms to lean on.
"You didn't have to help me." Koushiro replied breathing in a similar fashion. "I could handle them."
"Sure, buddy." Yamato said sarcastically propping his knee up. He took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. After one inhale, Yamato sighed. "Sure you could."
"So where is the video?" Koushiro asked.
Yamato laughed. "I did not record anything." He said taking out his phone. "I don't think this thing can even take pictures." They laughed together.
"Hey, Yamato," Koushiro sighed. He gulped, and sighed again. "Thank you." He breathed, heaving his chest up and down.
Yamato smiled. They sat in silence for while.
Yamato chuckled at the memory. It suddenly became clear to him that he makes friends with guys by getting into fights. He rolled his eyes. No wonder I'm supposed to die soon. He silently laughed.
Koushiro released a sigh and casted a down look. He stuffed his hands into his jacket's pockets and began walking (unknowingly) towards Yamato. Koushiro looked up and gave Yamato a half-smile. "Yamato, what are you doing here? I thought you left."
"Unfinished business." Yamato shrugged. "You seem a bit chipper than earlier."
"Yeah," Koushiro turned to his father's door with a pleased half-smile. "I was able to talk to him briefly."
Yamato nodded in agreement. He could still clearly see the amount of worry in Koushiro's eyes. In many ways, Yamato saw himself in Koushiro from years ago. He would wait outside of the door, thinking of ways to save his father, feeling a sense of helplessness as one of the many people he loved was slowing reaching death.
"Do you mind if we talk for a bit?" Yamato asked, moving his hand to the waiting room behind him.
"Of course." Koushiro replied. He casted another lingering look through the window before he followed Yamato.
They sat side by side at a bench near the window. Koushiro gazed at the view of the city. He breathed quietly for a while as if he was taking in the beauty of life or whatever he had left to enjoy it.
Yamato was never good at small talk, so making the first move was entirely a new experience. "How is he? Your father."
"He's conscious and feeling a little weak." Koushiro sighed. "The doctor said he can be discharged by tomorrow."
"Kido-sensei?" Yamato asked; Koushiro nodded. "He's a good doctor."
"He is." Koushiro acknowledged.
Yamato tried finding another topic, but he found himself glancing at Koushiro instead. Looking at him, Yamato believed Koushiro must have been there for days. He wore the same clothes he had on when he last saw him at the airport. He kept his posture straight as usual, but his body seemed tired. His eyes expressed his fatigue and strained stress.
Yamato asked, "when was the last time you have seen your father?"
"In person?" Koushiro elaborated a little further. "This would be the first time since I studied in America."
Yamato diddled with his hands. "That's a long time."
"It is." Koushiro nodded, still staring at the window.
"So that surgery…" Yamato swallowed. "Is your father going to go for it?"
"My father has pride. He will not go." Koushiro sighed. "It's either he will die by next year, or possibly survive a while longer. He keeps telling me that he lived a happy life, and he's ready for whatever happens. He claims that he does not want me to waste money on him. I think he is just scared."
Mimi is right. It's not about the money. Yamato thought to himself as he watched Koushiro talk about his father. Everytime he mentioned his father, his face lit up a little.
Yamato, for the first time, genuinely smiled in response. Pride. That's what it was, huh? Yamato thought to himself, facing the view in front of them and wondering if his old man had the same train of thought. A sour thought seeped into his head. Did Oyaji gave up his health for me? Yamato frowned. I wasted it all by dropping out.
Thinking about his time at school, Yamato suddenly remembered Koushiro sitting next to him. Making a quick glance, Yamato wondered, How did someone as bright as him end up being an assistant?
Yamato sat back on his seat and slid his hands up and down his pants. "Do you remember when you called me?" Yamato asked and scratched the back of his neck.
The shorter of the two turned. "When?"
"The time you asked me if you could move in with me just as my band and I were about to move out of that small studio apartment?" Yamato found himself saying obviously surprised that he just remembered the occasion.
"Yeah," Koushiro nodded. "Luckily enough, you and the Teenage Wolves were starting to have a little money coming in, right?" He finished with a laugh.
Yamato chuckled. "You were lucky you didn't have to withstand Takashi's snoring for years. Living in that cramped studio was not the best idea we had." Yamato tried to segue his way into the topic in his mind. "That's when you asked to work with me… become my assistant."
"Yeah, I did, didn't I?" Koushiro laughed crossing his arms. "Wow, it's been that many years, hasn't it?"
Yamato blinked. "Koushiro, I…" Yamato cleared his throat. "...why didn't you find a different job?"
"A different job?"
"Something better." Yamato shrugged. "You're a really smart guy. You had so many research and internships lined up. You could've started working in governmental jobs and earn the big money. Instead… you end up being my assistant."
Yamato noticed a change in Koushiro's expression. He looked down and gulped loudly. He stood up and walked close to the window. He crossed his arms and kept staring through the glass. He made a quick inhale and turned on his heel. "Do you promise not to tell my parents?"
"Yeah, of course." Yamato immediately stood on his feet and stood next to Koushiro. "So what is it?"
Koushiro muttered quietly. "I stole the money."
"What?!" Yamato yelled.
Koushiro waved his arms then looked around to see if anyone noticed Yamato's outburst.
"I did not heist a bank, but I did not obtain it legally either." Koushiro casted a disappointed look. "I tried to get the refund on your tuition, but it was impossible… at least in person."
Yamato furrowed his brows.
"The money I gave you was mine, but I started gaining it back by hacking into the system, sending me a small amount of money in intervals. When I finally broke even, it was a month before graduation." Koushiro swallowed. "The dean called me into his office and explained to me that they found the money being deposited to my account."
Koushiro mockingly chuckled to himself. "It was a small screw up too." He shook his head. "They were about to go into a lawsuit too. However, they offered to keep it quiet if they could expel me, strip me of my credits, and take my senior project and pending patent for themselves." Koushiro nodded. "And that's how I ended up at your door."
He continued to chuckle. From the dimness in his eyes, Yamato knew the research and hard work that Koushiro did in his years of education was for naught. The levels of achievement stripped from him. And for what?—"To save his dumb ass"? No, that's not fair.
Yamato, filled with remorse, looked down at his feet. "Your parents do not know of this?"
"They think I'm doing research for NASA." Koushiro chuckled. "I did not want to tell them that I did not even graduate college."
Yamato shook his head. "Why… why didn't you just turn me in? It was not your fault."
"You saved my life." Koushiro said with a smile, hinting the day he was about be killed in that dark alleyway. "We rarely conversed with one another, but you saved me. In return, I had to save yours."
Yamato looked at the floor. A smile tugged on the corner of his mouth. "Thank you." He whispered.
Koushiro lowered his arms and faced Yamato. "What did you say?" He asked leaning a bit forward.
Surprised that he even said what he thought out loud, Yamato moved back and looked away. "You heard me." He huffed, earning a laugh from Koushiro as a response.
A beeping sound erupted from Koushiro's pocket. The redhead rummaged through his pocket for the cellphone and gazed at the screen. "Okaa-san?" He whispered with a concerned expression. He looked at Yamato shortly before he answered the call. "Hello?"
"Koushiro! P-please come back!" Yamato heard Koushiro's mother say in one breath and in panic.
"Wait. Slow down." Koushiro advised with matching gestures. "What happened? Is everything okay?"
"It's about your father! Please come quick!" She sobbed.
"Understood." Koushiro nodded. "I will be there." He lowered his phone and ended the call. Koushiro breathed shallow breaths as his hand trembled. He gazed up at Yamato and made a worried sigh. "I-I better go—"
"—I'll go with you." Yamato stepped in. The two nodded and quickly sprinted to the room where Koushiro's father stayed. Yamato made a sideways glance at Koushiro. His arms flailed as he desperately tried to increase the speed his legs were moving. Panic filled his face. He loudly breathed as they zoomed passed patients and nurses in the hall.
Yamato begged that they were not too late.
Almost skidding and missing the room, Yamato and Koushiro found the Izumi mother outside the room with one arm covering her mouth and the other across her chest. Yamato feared the worst when he noticed her knitted brows and her watery eyes.
Koushiro must have made another loud breath when she turned to them. She gasped, "Koushiro." She met her son half way and hugged. "Thank goodness."
Koushiro returned his mother's embrace and tried to see over her shoulder and through the window. "Okaa-san, what's wrong? How is he?"
She took a deep breath and looked at Koushiro with tears streaming down her face. "He's going to do it."
Koushiro lifted a brow. "He… he is going to do what?"
His mother chuckled despite the tears still coming down her face. "The surgery. Your father is going to have the surgery."
Koushiro gasped. He ran his fingers through his hair then gave his mother another tight hug. "Thank goodness." He said through his mother's shirt. He hands gently rested on both sides of his mother's shoulder. "The insurance finally came through then?"
His mother shook her head. "We have a donor." She said with a smile.
"A donor?"
She nodded with a smile. "He paid for everything: your father's stay, the surgery, even down to the wheelchair to bring him home in!" She wiped a tear away from her cheek. "He's going to be okay. I know he's going to be okay." She closed her eyes shut, squeezing all the tears out of them.
"Who is this donor?" Koushiro asked rubbing his hand against his mother's arms to comfort her.
"Kido-sensei said the donor's name is Ookami-san(1)." She sniffled and took a step back.
"Ookami-san?" Koushiro repeated to himself.
"Koushiro," She wiped her face once more. "I want you to tell your father. The surgery will be tomorrow."
Koushiro flashed a smile. "I will. I need to talk to my friend for a minute."
Koushiro's mother blinked several times before noticing Yamato's existence. She turned her attention back to her son and nodded. "I will wait for you in the room." With that said, she made her way to the door and made another smile before closing it shut.
Koushiro sighed and twirled to Yamato. "Ookami-san?" He asked almost like in disbelief.
"What? It wasn't me." Yamato looked away with a pout. He did not notice the smile Koushiro gave him and a sigh.
"Fine." He chuckled. "Well, I better go inside and tell him the good news."
"Wait." Yamato called Koushiro who stopped immediately. "Since you talked to me about your family, I think it's fair that you learn a little more about mine." Yamato looked away, trying to find some type of courage to bring it up.
"My parents divorced when I was really young. Growing up, I thought it was always my father and me versus the world. Many times I left home because I did not want to handle all the arguments he and I had with one another. But then when he died… I think I handled it poorly." He laughed to himself.
Yamato sighed, "What I'm trying to say is: You deserve more time with your family. Stay however long you need to." Yamato scratched the back of his head again. "I also want to say that his legacy is passed on through you." Yamato said quietly, hoping Koushiro was taking his words to heart. "You are like your father. All these great things you told me about him are things that I see in you too. Even if the surgery is unsuccessful and he does… go, don't make the same mistake I made. Do not forget that part of yourself."
Koushiro turned and made a smirk. "Thanks."
"One more thing," Yamato added. "If you decide to come back and work for me, I want you to go back to school."
"Eh?" Koushiro blinked.
"I took that away from you." Yamato grimaced. "The right thing to do is to give it back."
Dumbfounded, Koushiro smiled. "I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything then." Yamato shrugged.
Koushiro smiled again and nodded. He walked to the door, and just as he was about to slide it open, Koushiro called, "Ishida-san," Yamato faced him, "Merry Christmas."
Yamato smirked back. "Merry Christmas."
Koushiro opened the door and walked inside. Seconds later, the door slid open again. Yamato blinked several times before the old nurse emerged from the room. Noticing Yamato's presence, she placed her hands on her hips and said more of an acknowledgement and not a mocking tone, "Ishida-san."
"Obaa-san?"
The matron chuckled. "Still have your wit I see." Said the old woman as she straightened her apron.
"You also take care of Koushiro's father." Yamato commented looking at the clipboard in her hands.
She smiled and nodded. "The young Izumi reminds me of you when you used to visit, Ishida-san."
Yamato released a trapped breath then a sideways smile. "So you were that nurse who took care of my father, right?"
"Yes," She said proudly. "It's very hard to forget a patient with a natural hair color like you and your father."
Yamato shook his head. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
"Normally, patients do not like to be reminded of those who have passed away. I figured you were no different." She rubbed her arm. "I know I should not pry, but I remember you and your father got into heated arguments. After your father passed away, I heard that you moved to America. Was that true?"
Yamato stared directly at her, "Yes. I stayed there since."
"Since then...?" She blinked. "And you come back only now?"
Because I didn't want to attend a charity event. Because I'm going to die in two days. Yamato kept the thought to himself. She has seen many deaths, Yamato reasoned. She does not need another one. "It's a long story."
She looked through her clipboard for a second before looking up at Yamato again. "And you paid... for everything?"
Yamato looked away. "It's not something I want to advertise." He said with puffed cheeks and crossed arms.
"I just want to know why."
"I felt like spending money." Yamato said. The nurse raised her brows which led to Yamato's sigh. "Well, someone—" he said as if he didn't want to mention a name, "—made me think about what was the right thing to do."
She made a suggestive grin. "Is it that pretty brunette?"
"No." Yamato curtly responded. Maybe.
She made another chuckle. "Well, I hope you have a great Christmas Eve. I hope you spend it with some—"
"—someone special." Yamato found himself finishing her sentence. "Didn't… didn't he say that?"
"You probably don't remember," She started with a confident smile, "but he was really glad that he got to spend that christmas eve with you. So on behalf of the Izumi family, thank you for making it a wonderful gift." She bowed and made her exit.
Yamato smiled. It was a relief for sure—doing good that is. He was nothing less than satisfied with himself. Doing a good deed felt rewarding. Seeing the happiness on Koushiro's mother's face and the gratitude Koushiro expressed really made a deep impression in Yamato.
It was nice to see that smile on his face. Yamato smirked digging his hands into his pocket. He took a step back, then another. He twirled on his foot with a chipper mood. After one twirl, seeing Mimi staring at him caught him entirely off guard.
She was in the doorway between the main hall and the hall leading to the Izumi family's room. She tried to make a stoic face, but Yamato could see a small smile on her face. Wondering how long she was sitting on the chair, Yamato made an amused grin and massaged a little crick in his neck. "You came back to get me?"
"Well, I did promise Yuuto to bring you back." Mimi shrugged. "I won't break a promise with my son."
Yamato casually walked up to Mimi and stood in front of her. Yamato brought his fingers up and softly moved hair strands away from her face. Despite the small touch, he felt her tense under his touch. Her face flushed. Embarrassed that he did that on his own, he looked down. "I'm sorry for… all the things I said."
"It's not entirely your fault." Mimi said with crossed arms. "I shouldn't have brought up your father. That was insensitive of me."
"No, don't apologize. I needed that."
Mimi looked at Yamato and made a sheepish grin. "Yeah, you needed that."
"Hey, Mimi." He said earnestly. "Thanks for taking care of me."
"It's nothing." She huffed.
Yamato chuckled, paying her with a compliment. He hoped for at least a gratifying "you're welcome". Beggars can't be choosers. He brought his arm out. Keeping his arm at a ninety-degree angle, he slightly bowed, "Shall we go, Ojou-san(2)?"
Mimi playfully slapped his shoulder. She gave the don't-give-me-that look. "I'm still mad at you!"
"But not as much as before, right?" Yamato wiggled his brows. Mimi shook her head and laughed the question off.
The glass doors opened. Yamato and Mimi exited again. Though it was still chilly, Yamato felt the sun's warmth. He felt it caress his skin, rejuvenating his spirit. He felt like a new man.
"That was a nice thing you did." Mimi said holding her shoulder bag.
"Really?" Yamato sarcastically said, looking around. "I thought so too."
Mimi playfully punched Yamato's arm. She chuckled. "While you were getting water, your friend told me of how you changed his life."
"In fairness," Yamato shrugged, "he saved mine too.
"If you don't mind me asking," Mimi pulled herself away to get a better look of Yamato's face, "why did you decide to pay for the surgery?"
"Why?" Yamato repeated. He scrunched his face. "I guess a part of me said that he needed more time with his father. I'm starting to think the more we try to avoid something, the harder it will be to face."
Yamato turned and saw Mimi looking at the ground. "Hey." Yamato called out to her. She responded by looking up at him. "Are you okay?"
Mimi tried to say something, but kept her mouth shut. She shook her head side to side. "I'm fine." She ran a little further and gestured him to hurry. "Come on! Let's go before it gets dark!"
Yamato looked down and smiled. He half-jogged-half-walked to her. He gently grabbed her wrist. "Actually, there's somewhere I want to visit. I know it's been about all about me lately, but do you mind coming with me?"
Mimi looked up and furrowed her brows. Despite the curious look in her eyes, she agreed.
The weather was not in his favor. Thrusts of winds in freezing temperature loved flooding passed Yamato's face, making it very difficult to focus.
Yamato stood in front of the Ishida family stone. He couldn't think of anyone who would visit normally (Takeru maybe), but it was surprisingly clean and well-kept. He released a heavy sigh and squatted down. He took out a wrinkled pack of cigarettes from his pocket and settled it down in front of the small step up. He remembered his mother instructing him to bring flowers or burn incense for the dead when he was little. She was always a stickler for manners. But knowing the old man, he was not a fan of customary things.
Yamato thought about their first Christmas Eve together, after the divorce. Yamato could clearly see the new empty apartment. Hiroaki just bought a table (an unstable one, but a table at least) and two chairs. They faced each other, eating their basic fashioned omelette fried rice.
"Oyaji," Yamato at a very young age asked, "is it my fault that we are eating together and not with Kaa-san and Takeru?"
Hiroaki lowered his spoon as it lightly clashed against the plate's surface. "Yamato, it's nothing you have done. Your mother and I... it didn't work out."
"Does that mean you don't like her?"
"Yamato..."
"Takeru too? Is that the reason? You told me that we should spend Christmas Eve with the ones we care about! If you don't love mother anymore, then I won't either!"
"Yamato!" Hiroaki scolded with a glare, "Never say that about your mother again!" Seconds passed, and Hiroaki realized how he raised his voice. He relaxed his shoulders and unbuttoned the first button of his oxford shirt. "Yes, your mother and I are divorced, but that does not mean we should not love her. In fact, I..." he made the unsure expression as he tried to find the words but lacked the right terms, "it just didn't work out."
Yamato matched his eyes with his father's. The older Ishida cracked a smirk and extended his hand to ruffle the boy's blond hair. "As much as I would love to spend Christmas Eve with the four of us, this is for the better. I am spending Christmas Eve with one of my favorite kids though."
Yamato could not believe it took him so long to realize what his father was trying to say.
"Oyaji." Yamato breathed out as the warm vapor passed his lips. "Long time no see." He scratched his cheek. "Sorry about leaving you half a pack of cigarettes. It was impromptu, and I don't have any incense with me." He felt a small wind chill. He made an annoyed scowl. "Okay, they were the only ones I was able to save after the doctor crushed them."
Yamato looked around the area. Eventually, he settled by looking straight at the stone.
"Look, I'm not sure of what to say. Ever since you passed away, I was not sure what to do years, I buried the pain of you leaving me here. By doing so, I forgot who I was and who you taught me to be. In a way, I think I threw away a very good part of me." Yamato bit his lip. "For years, I thought you gave up on living ... on me too."
A familiar chill ran up his spine. He envisioned casually walking into the hospital that afternoon years ago. He just got out of a boring day of school and was not looking forward to another afternoon spent at the hospital.
Yamato recalled him and his father arguing about the future of Yamato's education for days. Yamato wanted to immediately exploring foreign lands or start working, while his father demanded further education. Every afternoon they spent together, they argued, which dragged the hospital visit for Yamato. The day before, however, was the worst. In the heat of their battle, Yamato left in a way he never should have: "It would be stupid to take advice from a man who is too weak to fight and too cowardly to even go after the woman he loves!" Yamato knew he should at least apologize.
However, that hospital visit was different. A team of nurses rushed down the hall, guiding a bed along the track. Catching a glimpse of the patient, Yamato's mouth gaped open. He rushed behind the nurses, running as fast as he could. "Oyaji! Oyaji!" He yelled, extending his arm to even physically hold his father's hand. His fingers grazed his father's hair before he was held back by another nurse. She pushed him back by the shoulders, stopping him from going any further.
"You cannot follow beyond this point." She informed him.
"I-I'm his son. I have to go to him." Yamato tried warding off her hands as he watched his father disappear from around the corner.
"I'm sorry, but you are not allowed to be with him beyond this point." She said again in a calmer tone. She spun him around and guided him to a room where other visitors sat anxiously. "Please wait here."
Yamato stared at the empty chair before him dejectedly. He sat obediently and waited. Hours passed, and still there was no progress. Yamato tried to occupy himself from staring at the clock. He paced around the room, tried to do his homework, and even read all the magazines he found. Yet, it all came back to sitting in his seat, cradling his chin on his hands, and waiting for some news. When the nurse (who daily visited his father) walked into the room and stared at Yamato, he immediately stood up. Judging by her saddened expression, he knew she did not have good news to tell.
She escorted Yamato to an empty room and talked to him about arrangements. Though she spoke to Yamato that his father passed away peacefully, Yamato knew he never had a chance to say he was sorry.
Another chilly wind swept by, reminding Yamato of where he was. He picked up the knocked-down carton and leaned it against the stone's cold surface.
"I think I am the one to blame." He sighed. "Yeah, I think I was the one who gave up. I wanted to leave so bad that you basically gave me that freedom." He played with his hands before continuing. "I did go to America, but, to honor you, I decided to study there."
He chuckled, "What did I do for you in return? Dropped out of school. Stopped talking to my family and friends." He sighed. "On the bright side, I started off a successful music career."
A gust of wind blew by and knocked over the carton of cigarettes again. Yamato chuckled. He took that as another response from his father. "But that's not you wanted to hear, huh?" He apologized with his palm perpendicular to his face. "What I'm trying to say is: I'm sorry and thank you for everything." Yamato fixed the carton upright again. "I can promise you this: I do intend on spending Christmas with someone I care about. I'm sorry for not keeping up with that tradition for so long."
Yamato stood up. He looked longingly at the stone and whispered, "Bye, Oyaji. I will visit again soon." He stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked down. The pebbles made crushing sounds against his feet as he stepped away from the family stone.
Thinking back to the same day, when he left the room and wished the nurse well, he was surprised to see Mimi waiting for him. The moment she caught sight of him, Mimi uncrossed her legs and stood up. She gazed at him with sad empathetic eyes and walked to him. Gaining speed at each step, she jumped up to Yamato and hugged him tightly. She sobbed quietly for him, burying her face against his chest and wrapping her arms tighter along his back. Only at that instance, Yamato returned her embrace and lowered his head. He cried on her shoulder for a while.
Looking around, Yamato noticed that his ex-girlfriend was not around. He walked down the small staircase, looking left then right, searching the woman in her forest green coat. Further down, Yamato finally caught sight of her. She was faced in profile with Yamato. Her hair flew gently with the wind, and the setting sun placed her in perfect light. Though she stood still, she looked gracefully thanks to the way nature reacted around her. She was a sight.
Mimi. He thought to himself. She must've been really strong all these years. Not only is she raising a really great kid on her own, she was able to provide for him too. She was no longer the dependant princess he met years ago. She was confident, but still honest and caring. She was definitely a woman worth keeping.
Another chilly wind swept passed, like a message from his father himself. That was when Yamato decided. She was the one he wanted to spend Christmas Eve with.
Walking closer, he recognized the area where she stood. It was the same scenery that he and Yuuto were last night. By deductions, Yamato could guess who she was standing before. Yamato remembered that Yuuto offered to introduce Yamato to his father. Thinking back, Yamato was hesitant to meet him. Was it because that man replaced Yamato or took the life that he could've had? Then, Yamato was not sure. Now, Yamato felt different. He wanted to meet the man who took care of her while he was gone, the man who shared a child with her, the man who made her happy until his last breath.
He watched her trace her fingers on the top of the stone, sliding them back and forth. After mustering the courage and walking closer, Yamato noticed something glistening on her cheeks. She bit her bottom lip as tears slid down her face. She quickly crouched down and rested her hands against the cold floor. With her head down, she sobbed and elicited a loud wail. Her hair slipped past her shoulders and hung loosely above the ground. Her shoulder bag fell off her shoulders and landed softly on the ground. Shortly after, her knees gave in, and she hunched lower to the ground, obviously overcome by her emotions. She was like a tragic angel crying in pain.
Yamato stopped walking abruptly. It pained Yamato to watch her. Yuuto did mention that Mimi hardly visited. Maybe this was what she was avoiding. Maybe being present and in front him was too much to handle. Maybe… all she wanted to do was break down and cry.
As much as he wanted to hold her just as she did for him years ago and be that emotional support she needed, he couldn't… not while he was in front of them. For the first time, Yamato felt like a shadow in comparison to someone else. He made her happy, and she would never forget that.
It was hard to swallow, but Yamato had to admit it: she replaced him with someone better.
Yamato took a step back and another. He kept moving backwards until he finally convinced himself to turn away and wait for her at the entrance.
It was best to leave her alone.
As they traveled their way back to the apartment complex, she hid her pain very well according to Yamato. She talked about random light topics to disguise that she was sobbing. Yamato did feel a little relieved when Mimi met with him at the entrance with a smile on her face, but he could still see her flushed cheeks and eyes still bloodshot, red, and puffy. Many times Yamato wanted to bring up the stone, but went against it.
That was her moment and her moment alone.
"Oh geez!" Mimi groaned as her hand covered one side of her face in annoyance. "That was the darkest moment of my fashion history."
Yamato laughed uncontrollably at her red face. "That was the last time I have ever seen you with a perm." Yamato added, "Like a ball of fluff!"
"I had to wear a bandana for so many days…" Mimi continued to groan.
"And then all the freshman girls decided to follow suit." Yamato wiped a tear. "Only you could turn a disaster into a trend."
Mimi finally managed to crack a smirk. "It's not easy being a trendsetter."
Before Yamato even realized it, they were not too far from the Takeru's apartment door. Yamato turned to Mimi, and she turned back to him. Her eyes finally cleared, and her tears-soaked cheeks reduced in size. She was back to being this incredible woman, who amazed him in whichever must've sensed something in the air. She made a nervous smile. "What?"
"Why don't you spend Christmas Eve with me?" He said plainly.
"What?" She gasped wide-eyed.
"Spend Christmas Eve with me." He repeated with a smile.
Mimi laughed. "Stop."
"Stop what?"
"You sound desperate."
"How does 'spend Christmas Eve with me' sound desperate?"
"You broke up with me, remember?" Mimi mischievously looked closely at Yamato.
"Are we still in that topic?" Yamato looked away. The way she questioned his request at was distracting enough. She did not have to add the stare. "I thought we passed that and are friends now."
"B-but Christmas Eve is special and..." She cocked her head to the side. The way her brows knitted together and shifted her gaze side to side told Yamato she was looking for an excuse.
"Yamato!" Yamato and Mimi turned to see Taichi and Sora running closely behind them.
"There you are." Taichi huffed, grasping his knees and giving his lungs time to catch up. "We stopped by the hospital, but you were not there."
"Mimi," Sora breathed and placed a gloved hand on her friend's shoulder, "we called your phone so many times. We became worried each time you neglected to answer."
"Eh?" Mimi replied and searched her phone in her handbag. Pulling out the small device, she pressed several buttons then gasped. "Fifty missed calls?"
"We were looking for you." Taichi finally stood straight. He groaned as he stretched. He sighed and gestured, "Yamato, you have to come with us."
"What? Where?" Yamato questioned.
"Does it matter where? Let's go." Taichi pulled Yamato by his sleeve.
"No, wait," Yamato pulled back in the opposite direction. "I haven't been in the apartment for at least 24 hours. I should at least say hi."
"You do not have to say hi now." Taichi added, pulling Yamato once more.
Yamato raised his brow. "Why?"
"Yeah, why?" Mimi asked with equal curiosity.
"You're not helping." Taichi growled to Mimi through gritted teeth.
"Yamato, please. Come with us." Sora pleaded. "Trust me." She stared closely at Yamato. Her hands gripped one of Yamato's arms and pulled him towards her and away from the apartment. The more she whimpered, the more Yamato saw how desperately her eyes pleaded.
"Sora, you above all people should know how worried Takeru gets. He—" Yamato saw a glint in Sora's eyes. He recalled Sora's secret from the other day. Yamato found himself lowering his eyes to her stomach. He did not know a lot about pregnancy, but he knew that stress was bad for the mother… and the baby.
Feeling a pair of eyes on him, Yamato moved his eyes to Taichi and Mimi. Shit.
"Fine. I will go." Yamato sighed.
As a result, Taichi released his restraint on Yamato. He eyed Yamato for a moment then Sora. Yamato took this as an opportunity to escape. He ran to Takeru's door. Before he could ring the doorbell, the door opened automatically. On the opposite side, Yamato stared with his eyes wide at the woman at the other side.
"Kaa-san." He whispered.
(1) wolf
(2) A polite way of saying "Miss"
As I wrote this, Koushiro pinged me as the Bob Cratchit of the story, the man who was used and abused by Ebenezer Scrooge in "A Christmas Carol". Though I did not portray Koushiro as the "meek" character, I thought I'd make that connection where he is working under stressful conditions for the sake of his family.
I was listening to piano melodies from Yiruma as I wrote the chapter. Especially when writing the beginning of the chapter (with Koushiro) and the grave scene (with Yamato visiting his father). The music put me in a very hopeful yet melancholy mood. The chapter pretty much wrote itself (which was great). The words, actions, and the scene literally just flowed in me. (smile)
Thanks for reading and, as always, reviews are welcome.
Till next time…!