Chapter Twenty One

Friday morning turned out cool and cloudy.

As the procession made its silent way across the wet grass, Houjun kept his gaze straight, his head up, cradling the single red rose in his hand.

They stopped by the prepared grave, and then the men changed positions, leveling the obsidian casket rather than lifting it. With soft grunts and a few creaking of joints, the body was lowered into the earth.

The clouds were gathering now, darkening the sky, and a light drizzle was already beginning to whip its way across the tombstones. Houjun turned his face up, sinking into the coldness of the water droplets, as quiet sobs filled the air. They lined up more or less, and the walk around the burial plot for a final glimpse at the young man who had been taken away from them. As he walked, he felt his shoes slide slightly on the slippery ground.

He approached the grave, and stood there, halting sharply as he looked down, down. With a final prayer, he lifted his hand and threw the rose. It fell in a graceful arc, landing with a noiseless impact on the hard wood. He stared at it a moment longer, before moving away.

From far behind the milling crowd, hidden partly behind the obscuration of trees and mid-morning shadows, in a red car that seemed out of place in the circumstances parked, unmoving.

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He remembered what his mentor at university had told him once.

"When you choose to become a doctor, Genrou, you can't forget that it's only about healing. People will die under your hands even as you fight to save them. Families will look at you and you will bring light back into their eyes, or shatter their hearts with your news. You must always remember that at the end of the day, it is not what they feel, as much as it is how you react."

Yes. It was true, what had been said. Only now, the confusion and loneliness battling within him had everything to do with his failure to save Hikou Yutake.

Or does it? his mind taunted.

His hands clasping lightly the steering wheel, he glanced over at the crowd again, garbed in black and veils and mourning. Why am I here? Why did I come?

And then he saw him.

Attired neatly in a dark gray suit, his longish hair combed back loosely over his ears and holding a single rose in one hand, Houjun walked towards the grave. He slowed as he approached, and then stopped, staring down into the bed which would keep the body of his childhood friend. And then he tossed the rose in, before turning away.

His heart thumped uncomfortably, and in that moment, he had the sudden urge to just bow his head and cry.

He blames me. Why wouldn't he?

The injustice and anger he had thought were his rights after that day had faded into the recesses of his mind. Even the hurt that had filled him when he had seen Houjun and Kourin at the hospital seemed to have disappeared, and all that was left was a hollow emptiness.

I'm so sorry, Houjun.

He tore his eyes away and floored the accelerator.