This is a companion piece to an earlier fic we wrote, "Chaos". The actual Sequel to Chaos is being written. This piece is Ken's point of view of his friendship with Crawford. The continuation of their relationship will be the focus of the sequel. It is advised that you read "Chaos" before you read this.
Gentians and Forget-me-nots
A companion to "Chaos"
Hidaka Kaori was only 30 when she found out she had an incurable disease and breaking the news to her family as gently as possible was her priority. Of course, having a son like Kenji had its ups and downs. It was hard keeping up with him at times and for months, she tire rather quickly.
That was the main reason why she had the doctor's appointment. A former high school judo captain, she kept up with the fast-paced world around her and sometimes, she ran ahead of everyone else. Many have told Ken that he takes after his mother, personality-wise.
Taking one good look at his father, it was safe to assume where he got his looks. Hidaka Kyousuke was a typical businessman in nature, yet he always found time for his family, especially his wife and son. He was proud of Ken and he told him that, right before he died.
Ken would stay up listening to his mother's stories, especially the ones concerning love. "I hope you'll find your soulmate, Kenji." She'd whisper to him as she held him close. "I'm very lucky that I'm married to mine." He didn't really believe in the idea of soulmates, but when he reached the age of fourteen and saw his father wither away before his eyes, the same way his mother did, he knew that he had to start believing.
Their souls were tied and there was no way, in heaven or earth, that they were going to be separated for long. Ken knew it the moment he saw his father's forlorn face as they lowered mother's coffin to ground. He'd never seen a man so lost and heartbroken in his entire life.
His mother was the reason they moved to America. They thought the treatment there would be better and maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for his mother's condition to improve. Or at least, for her to live just a little longer.
That's what was so special about Kaori, she held on to life until the very end. Her last breath was a struggle, as if she wanted to hold on to that for eternity. Ken still remembered the look on her face, how the light faded from her eyes as her breathing stilled and her heart finally stopped beating.
His father was right by her side, holding her hand and he stayed there for two hours, just staring at her smiling face. Till this day, the image of his parents is still clear in his mind. His mother's blank hazelnut eyes, void of anything resembling life, fixed on a corner of the room where Ken had stood by her side. And the loveliest smile she ever wore, frozen on her face for all eternity.
It was hard, moving to a new country. Luckily Kaori had a fascination with the English language and began teaching Ken at the very early age of 4. Children pick languages up very quickly and sure enough, by the time he was 6, Kenji spoke both languages at home.
The move to America, though not without culture shock, was easier on Ken. Finding a friend, however, was another story. Kids tend to be cruel and being the new kid in a new school wasn't easy for Ken.
He hadn't told his mother about the teasing. Hadn't told her that he would sit and eat his lunch alone because no one wanted to talk to the foreign kid with the strange accent. Things improved, however, when he was playing by himself at the park.
He hadn't noticed the man sitting by the tree and when he approached, he realized that the teen was the infamous Brad Crawford. There were horror stories told by children and adults alike, yet Ken wasn't scared when he approached, instead, he was fascinated.
He was kicking his soccer ball around, concentration fading and he lost control of the ball. He gasped as time slowed, watched the ball roll over to the intimidating teen lying in the shade.
Ken didn't even realize he was walking towards the American until it was too late. Flustered for a moment, he had no control over his speech as Japanese rolled easily off his tongue. And then their eyes met.
And the rest is another story.
"What are those?" Ken asked, pointing at the bluish-purple flowers and then staring at Brad. The teen raised an eyebrow at the question, surprised that the kid was asking him about flowers of all things.
"They're Gentians." He replied and it was evident from his body language that he didn't want to stay there. Of course, this was hardly obvious for an eight year old.
"Gentians?" Debating on whether or not to leave the kid there and walk home, Brad Crawford was surprised to find himself crouching down next to the boy to get a better look at the flower.
"They're usually used for medicine."
"Medicine?" Ken wrinkled his nose at the word, prompting a chuckle out of Brad. "I don't like medicine, they're bitter. And they smell funny." Suddenly the scrunched up face disappeared as Ken's gaze dropped to the ground. "Kaa-san has to take a lot of medicine, but they don't make her better. The doctors tell her that they do and she tells me that too, but I know better. I know that she gets sick in the morning."
There was just something utterly wrong about an eight-year-old looking so sad that even someone as cold and calculating as Brad Crawford couldn't help but sympathize. The initial contact to his cheek made Ken look up. Brown eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but he saw Brad's features soften, not so much that he smiled, but there was something there that he understood.
Blue eyes turned to gaze at the potted plant and then back at Ken. He stood up then and walked over to the shopkeeper. "How much for these?" He asked, pointing at the Gentians. Ken blinked, not sure what exactly happened.
But when Crawford paid for the flower and made sure that the tiny hands held the small pot tightly, he gazed straight into Ken's eyes. "Gentians are bitter, but they are sweet at the same time." He said, noting that the boy looked confused. "Even if things are going wrong, life always gives you a reason to smile."
Now, Ken can hear the words that Brad never said.
'Because life gave me a reason to truly smile, the day I met you.'
Brad Crawford left for Japan at the age of twenty one, certified adult by American standard by that time. Legally able to vote, drink and gamble. And for Crawford, those three go hand-in-hand. A subdued Ken was there at the airport, ready to go back home with the car and chauffeur that Crawford had rented.
"Will you come and visit?" In the time span of two years that they know each other, Ken had never sounded so lonely.
"I can't make promises, Ken."
"Try anyway?" He looked at the ground, brown bangs falling forward, covering his usually expressive eyes. Brad reached out to push them away, revealing shimmering brown eyes.
It reminded him very much of the day he bought Ken his first pot of Gentians.
"We'll meet again." He spoke with certainty. And he knew, even without his gift of clairvoyance, that they would. Ken nodded, once. His eyes were serious when he stared back at Brad, as if telling him that the next time they'll meet, they would be equals. No longer this boy-man relationship. No longer a twisted father-brother-son type of affair that can't be quite described. There was something there, lurking beneath the guise of this uncertain companionship. Sometimes it would reveal itself for a moment or two, before melting into the shadows once more.
"I have to go." His tone of voice was clipped and so utterly Brad, that Ken had to smile. The youth nodded, pulling something out of his jacket pocket.
"For you." He said simply, handing the envelope to Brad.
"What is it?" Suspicion arose at the smile on Ken's face, the one bordering on familiarity because of the hinted mischief and foreign territory because there was something different there. Something sad and strangely mature. And that was something he'd never associate with Ken. The maturity, anyway.
"You'll see." The boy said. Then without warning, he launched himself at Brad, throwing his arms around the tall man's waist. He was nearly thrown off balance by the sudden motion, barely able to keep both of them from falling. Uncertain hands ruffled the boy's brown locks, running through those silky strands and barely able to keep the small smile from his face. "Goodbye Brad." Ken's voice was muffled by the folds of his jacket, wanting to bury himself in the semi-embrace.
"Take care of Japan for me, OK?" Ken said cheekily as he stepped back, grinning widely. He was awarded by a playful smack on his head.
"Make sure this country doesn't fall apart." Brad replied, keeping his expression neutral. It was hard trying not to look back as he walked into the terminal. At the very last moment, as they cleared his papers and walked past that line, he finally did turn back. The image of Ken, smiling bravely through his tears was one that he kept in the darkest, most private recesses of his mind. Not even Schuldich can get his hands on that memory.
Not on his most precious memory.
It wasn't until the plane was taking off that he remembered the envelope. Curious, he finally opened it, revealing a plain white card. He frowned for a moment, not knowing what to make of it. When he opened the card, he could only stare in wonder. It was three forget-me-nots, pressed neatly and dry. It must have taken the kid months to get it in perfect condition. He picked it up carefully, staring at it with what seemed to be a disinterested look. Inwardly, he wanted to chuckle at the kid's inventiveness.
Written in the card, in Ken's best handwriting was,
Because I'll never forget you.
Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz and its affiliates (c) Koyasu Takehito, Project Weiss, et al.
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