Chapter 2: A Lost Past
Darien went home and got a box down from his closet. He looked at it awhile before opening it. After he had gotten out of the hospital when he was little, a social worker had stayed with him at his parents' small apartment. They were hoping that familiar surroundings would help his memories. It hadn't. When the lease was up, she had packed this box of personal items and he had been sent to the orphanage.
He had been encouraged to look at the pictures by the headmaster, but he rarely had. This was the first time since he'd moved in his apartment that he had taken it down. He opened the box.
The first thing he saw was a baseball mitt. It was the only thing he had added to the box. He couldn't remember why, but he had jealously guarded it at the orphanage, taking it to his bed and letting it catch the silent tears he cried that he wouldn't let anyone see. He had never played with it. Picking it up, he tried putting it on. It was way too small for his adult hand and he set it down. Next in the box was a photo album. Some of the pictures were loose, removed from frames and just tucked in: an 8x10 wedding picture, baby pictures, a family portrait (he looked like he was about five in it). His parents looked so young, not much older than he was now. His father appeared to be of medium height, with fairly typical features. His mother had been beautiful! Almost as tall as her husband, she had dark hair that fell in waves below her shoulders and light brown eyes.
As he flipped through the album, he noticed the progression in the family, from just a couple to having an infant to having an active child. In most of the pictures he looked happy, wearing a Tokyo team cap. His father must have liked baseball; some of them had been taken at the ballpark. There was also a somber one of his father at the Hiroshima Memorial.
Setting the album aside to review with Serena, he took out a large envelope of papers. Emptying them on the table, he looked them over: high school certificates, marriage license, his father's college degree, (he had graduated from KO University- the same one he was attending; he had gotten a degree in engineering.) There was a business license for Chiba Song Lee: his mother had run a flower shop. There were a couple of news clippings in a plastic protector: his father had been on his high school baseball team. In a red prayer envelope, he found a letter dated a few days after his birth. He put it aside to read later. There wasn't much else so he put the papers away. The only thing left was a jewelry box made of inlaid wood. Opening it released a slight scent of roses and sandalwood. Wrapped in a silk scarf was a pearl necklace, and inside a satin bag was an ornate silver locket. There were some earrings and other trinkets in the bottom that he only gave a glance at. He sighed, suddenly feeling tired.
He put all but the letter away, made some tea and sat down to read it.
"(Aug. 6) Honorable Father, A few days ago, my son was born, just before Peace Day. We have given him a name from both the East and the West to symbolize the peace between the two since he has blood of both. His name is Chiba Darien Mamaru. It seemed fitting. I will bring him to visit you. I will teach him to honor the memory of our family."
The letter ended there. He read it over several times, considering each phrase; 'Peace Day' 'blood of both' 'honor the memory'. "A man should know where he came from." Mr. Tsukino was right.
AN: Darien's birthday is Aug. 3rd. Peace Day is Aug. 6th.
Darien went home and got a box down from his closet. He looked at it awhile before opening it. After he had gotten out of the hospital when he was little, a social worker had stayed with him at his parents' small apartment. They were hoping that familiar surroundings would help his memories. It hadn't. When the lease was up, she had packed this box of personal items and he had been sent to the orphanage.
He had been encouraged to look at the pictures by the headmaster, but he rarely had. This was the first time since he'd moved in his apartment that he had taken it down. He opened the box.
The first thing he saw was a baseball mitt. It was the only thing he had added to the box. He couldn't remember why, but he had jealously guarded it at the orphanage, taking it to his bed and letting it catch the silent tears he cried that he wouldn't let anyone see. He had never played with it. Picking it up, he tried putting it on. It was way too small for his adult hand and he set it down. Next in the box was a photo album. Some of the pictures were loose, removed from frames and just tucked in: an 8x10 wedding picture, baby pictures, a family portrait (he looked like he was about five in it). His parents looked so young, not much older than he was now. His father appeared to be of medium height, with fairly typical features. His mother had been beautiful! Almost as tall as her husband, she had dark hair that fell in waves below her shoulders and light brown eyes.
As he flipped through the album, he noticed the progression in the family, from just a couple to having an infant to having an active child. In most of the pictures he looked happy, wearing a Tokyo team cap. His father must have liked baseball; some of them had been taken at the ballpark. There was also a somber one of his father at the Hiroshima Memorial.
Setting the album aside to review with Serena, he took out a large envelope of papers. Emptying them on the table, he looked them over: high school certificates, marriage license, his father's college degree, (he had graduated from KO University- the same one he was attending; he had gotten a degree in engineering.) There was a business license for Chiba Song Lee: his mother had run a flower shop. There were a couple of news clippings in a plastic protector: his father had been on his high school baseball team. In a red prayer envelope, he found a letter dated a few days after his birth. He put it aside to read later. There wasn't much else so he put the papers away. The only thing left was a jewelry box made of inlaid wood. Opening it released a slight scent of roses and sandalwood. Wrapped in a silk scarf was a pearl necklace, and inside a satin bag was an ornate silver locket. There were some earrings and other trinkets in the bottom that he only gave a glance at. He sighed, suddenly feeling tired.
He put all but the letter away, made some tea and sat down to read it.
"(Aug. 6) Honorable Father, A few days ago, my son was born, just before Peace Day. We have given him a name from both the East and the West to symbolize the peace between the two since he has blood of both. His name is Chiba Darien Mamaru. It seemed fitting. I will bring him to visit you. I will teach him to honor the memory of our family."
The letter ended there. He read it over several times, considering each phrase; 'Peace Day' 'blood of both' 'honor the memory'. "A man should know where he came from." Mr. Tsukino was right.
AN: Darien's birthday is Aug. 3rd. Peace Day is Aug. 6th.