On A Cold Winter's Day
~ A Rukawa Kaede fiction ~
Softly, he nudged the door open to a tiny crack just large enough for him to peer through. He could see his mother lying on the bed, convulsing erratically in pain and agony, her voice strangled and forcefully muffled by sheer willpower. Her son would not hear her like this.
The medical smell was overpowering. The stark smells of the different medications his mother had taken drove up his nostrils. But there was another smell as well. Something more sinister. Something indefinable. The odour of death, lingering at the windowsill and threatening to take his mother's life. He could almost hear death's cackle, an evil and menacing cackle. He could almost feel its cold fingers reaching out for him, then reaching past him, and taking his mother.
Another person was in the room. A broken-hearted man, whose wife lay dying. He held her hand. A gently touch, yet it conveyed his love. His face was worn and tired, and his eyelids drooped with sleep. His thin layer of hair seemed thinner than it was the last time he looked in the mirror. Deep inside him was a fire of hope that was all but extinguished, and what remained was the curls of smoke screening his young son from the sight of a devastated father.
Equally softly, making no noise at all, the boy pulled the door shut. He had seen enough.
Where had his mother gone? The laughing, happy mother? The one who baked delicious cookies, the one whose fragrance was indistinguishable from the aroma of freshly-baked cookies. The one who always had a ready smile, and a laugh that tinkled like tiny fairy bells. Where had she gone?
He crawled back into his bed. Pulled the thick blanket over his head, burying himself under it in a vain attempt to find security, like an ostrich with its head in a hole. It was winter, and his feet were cold from stepping on an uncarpeted floor barefoot.
The cold crept up his body, its icy tentacles inching upwards, ever upwards. Till it finally reached his heart. Entwined its icy cold vines around his heart, extending roots, putting out branches. One last tremor, one last shiver. And the little boy's eyes closed. Closed against the sight of parents in dire grief.
The morning sun was brave, penetrating the wintry gloom. But its rays did not reach the young boy. Its warmth was shut out. Shut out by a heart of ice.
Disclaimer: Slam Dunk, including the character Rukawa Kaede, hardly belong to me at all…
Author's Notes: This was written in response to "syrupjunkie's column "Artistic License" dated 31 May 2002. Thanks for the inspiration! I don't know how many people will read this, but I must say I did enjoy writing this one. The character of Rukawa is so intriguing, because he's so quiet and mysterious. Authors have written about why Rukawa became so cold, and so this was my say on the matter. Hope you liked it! If you did, or even if you didn't, review and tell me!
