Love is Never Silent 6/7
by Elysia
PG
The rain consumed her. Every drop from heaven that fell to the earth mirrored tears that everyone
around her shed. The downpour hadn't stopped for the last three days, not since that horrible
day. Usagi knew that heaven was weeping for her, but it wasn't enough to comfort her sorrow.
She stared out the window in silence, staring through the rain at nothing.
The house was quiet now, almost too quiet for Usagi's tastes. Her room felt like a tomb, nowhere
to go and no way out. She felt trapped within her own thoughts.
A gentle knock rapped on her door, and Ikuko stuck her head into the room. "Usagi," she said
quietly, "it's time to go." The blonde girl nodded slightly, then turning away from the window, she
followed her mother downstairs.
No matter how hard Usagi tried, she couldn't forget the events of the previous three days. In that
short amount of time the world that she had known for sixteen years was shattered beyond repair.
"Mama!" Usagi cried out in worry as she entered the house, dashing from room to room.
"Mama? I ran home the moment Motoki-onii-san told me you called. What happened? Where's
Shingo?"
Ikuko sat in the kitchen, staring blankly at the table. Usagi slowly walked towards her mother,
afraid to see her like this. "Mama? What is it? What's wrong?"
"It happened all so fast," Ikuko mumbled softly. "One moment, Shingo was outside practicing his
batting, and the next moment, I heard tires screeching to a stop. I didn't think twice about it until I
heard Shingo scream. The very sound of it sent chills down my spine." She shook her head and
looked solemnly at her daughter. "I couldn't get there in time to get him out of the way. Your
father called for the ambulance and they quickly took him to the hospital. I told them I would wait
here for you and then we would follow."
Usagi nodded and gently placed a hand on her mother's arm. "He'll be okay, Mama. He'll pull
through this. Shingo's got a strong spirit."
Ikuko's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you, Usagi-chan. You are my strength."
Usagi watched her father pace back and forth in the hallway, waiting for something, anything that
would tell them of Shingo's condition.
"Papa, please sit down. You're making us all nervous," Usagi begged him while holding her
mother's hand tightly in hers.
"Tsukino-san?" The doctor suddenly came through the swinging door. Kenji, Ikuko and Usagi all
looked up at once. "How is he?" Ikuko burst out first.
The doctor shook his head. "Shingo-kun's injuries are far more severe than we initially thought.
He's in a coma now. We're not even sure if he'll make it through the night."
Ikuko choked back a sob and Usagi clung tightly to her mother. Through hooded eyes, Kenji
asked, "May we see him?"
At first the doctor began to shake his head, but seeing the pleading looks on the family's faces, he
relented. "I suppose I can allow you into the ICU, but only one at a time."
Usagi felt her mother tug on her arm. "You go first, sweetheart." The blonde girl swallowed hard
and nodded. Following the doctor through the doors to the ICU, she could feel the tears well up,
but she just couldn't bring herself to cry, no matter how much she wanted to. Shingo was going to
recover, she assured herself. He just had to.
"You might be startled at first by his appearance," the doctor interrupted her thoughts. "Most of it
is tubes and wires, so you needn't be afraid." As he led Usagi into the barren antiseptic room, he
added, "But talk to him like you normally do. It will help him to hear your voice."
Usagi laughed bitterly to herself. Apparently the doctor had no idea of Shingo's hearing loss, nor
was she about to inform him of it.
"You've got ten minutes. I wish I could give you longer, but I'm already bending the rules for you
to be in here at all." The doctor left the room with no more words spoken, and Usagi finally
relaxed. Turning to her unconscious brother, she sighed. "I know you can't hear me, Shingo, but
maybe you know I'm here." She slipped her hand into his limp one, gripping it tightly.
"I need you, Shingo. I don't think I could bear to live without you. You've been my strength for so
long, I'm not sure how to do anything without you. If only I had been there, I would have kept
you out of the way of that car. It should have been me to get hit, not you. You're too good for
something like this to happen to you." She leaned over, laying her head on the stiff cotton blanket.
"It should have been me."
A sudden cough from the doorway startled Usagi. Jumping out of the chair, she turned to see her
father had entered the room. She looked back once more at her brother, and allowed a slight
smile to appear. "My time's up, Shingo. I just hope yours isn't yet."
Now here they stood on a dismal Sunday afternoon in the rain. Usagi switched from foot to foot,
sinking into the soggy grass each time she shifted her weight. The makeshift cover over the small
gathering of family and close friends was no help either. Everyone was getting wet in one way or
another.
The dress she wore scratched her and was getting too short at the hem. The last time Usagi wore
the old dress was four years ago at the funeral of a great aunt on her father's side of the family.
She couldn't remember it very well now, except the fact that the older boy cousins chased Shingo
around until she beat them up. A tiny smile tugged at her lips as she recalled that memory.
She needed something--anything!-- to keep her mind off the flower laden casket that sat before
her now, the hollow wooden box that held the body of her beloved brother. Still, no tears
escaped one Tsukino Usagi. She was too in shock to mourn her family's loss. Her loss. She had
dedicated most of her life caring for Shingo.
Usagi glanced at her father standing just a few feet away. Tears streamed down Kenji's cheeks as
he listened to the eulogy for his only son. This was a side to her father rarely seen. Maybe she
had mistaken her father all this time. He wasn't really strict or overbearing, he just didn't
understand why his son had to be the different one. The pain and sorrow of it all were evident on
his face.
'But I'm still here, Papa... will you ever love me as much as you loved Shingo? I may not be a
boy, but I am still your child... and someday, I hope I will make you proud.' If only Usagi had the
courage to say such things to her father... but this was neither the time nor place for such words.
Maybe someday she would let him know how she felt.
The time had come. Usagi never thought she would say goodbye to her brother so soon.
Stepping forward in the squishy grass, she closed her eyes and said a silent prayer, then laid two
fresh lilies on the casket. The flowers were special because she and Shingo had planted them one
year in the garden. It was only fitting to take them with him.
"Thank you for everything, Shingo. I will never forget the unconditional love you showed
everyone. I love you, little brother," she whispered in the cascading rain.
Usagi didn't budge from her room the following day. The rain continued to pour and she didn't
feel like going to school and facing all her friends. None of them knew what had happened, and
now wasn't a good time for Usagi to remember it all when it was so fresh. Her mother remained
downstairs, taking out her grief by cleaning or baking up a storm. But not even the temptation of
her mother's cooking could coax her from her spot. But staring out the window didn't help her
situation. She turned towards her door, wondering if she could help her mother in some small
way.
As Usagi left her room, she passed by the closed door to Shingo's room. Ikuko closed it two
nights ago because she still couldn't bear to pass by it without crying. Now Usagi stood in front of
it, staring at the dark wood that had quickly become a barrier to past memories.
Something inside unexpectedly made her grab the knob and twist it to open the door into the dim
room. Everything was neat and in its place, looking nothing like Shingo's room before.
Usagi walked around the perimeter of the room, letting the feel of the textured walls and things
hanging on it run beneath her fingers. She stopped and stood at the foot of the bed, gazing down
upon it solemnly. Shingo's worn out baseball glove lay at the head of the bed, a brand new
baseball nestled inside.
A slight smile came to her face as she reached over and picked up the worn glove in her hands.
Shingo loved this mitt. Night after night he would condition it and check the lacing to make sure
all was right for his next game.
He wasn't coming back.
Clutching the mitt tightly to her chest, Usagi collapsed on the bed, sobbing painfully. The reality of
it all finally struck her, and she let the tears come freely. She would never see him sprint through
the house, smiling brightly with his mitt tucked under his arm. She would never watch his hands fly
as he described the exciting moments of a game.
He wasn't coming back.
Through her tears, Usagi slid a hand under a pillow and found a small, flat object beneath it.
Puzzled, she pulled it out and stared at it, finally recognizing it to be the notebook Shingo had
been carrying around with him the last few weeks. Curious, she flipped it open to the last entry in
the book, which turned out to the only entry written in it. What she found surprised her.
At the end, when I lay sleeping,
will I see your smiling face in heaven?
If I could, I would take it with me and keep it close to my heart.
Do not cry for me, for I am happy though I'm no longer there.
I look forward to days when you are with me,
and I will hear your joyful laughter.
Usagi looked up from the book in shock. How had Shingo known that this was going to happen?
It was an accident, there was no way he could have seen it coming.
A tiny smile graced her lips through her sorrow. Shingo was too innocent to stay here for very
long. Even though she felt like she needed him more, she knew that his unconditional love was
needed elsewhere. And though her heartache was more than she could bear, that one little
thought was enough to help her accept the loss of her little brother.
by Elysia
PG
The rain consumed her. Every drop from heaven that fell to the earth mirrored tears that everyone
around her shed. The downpour hadn't stopped for the last three days, not since that horrible
day. Usagi knew that heaven was weeping for her, but it wasn't enough to comfort her sorrow.
She stared out the window in silence, staring through the rain at nothing.
The house was quiet now, almost too quiet for Usagi's tastes. Her room felt like a tomb, nowhere
to go and no way out. She felt trapped within her own thoughts.
A gentle knock rapped on her door, and Ikuko stuck her head into the room. "Usagi," she said
quietly, "it's time to go." The blonde girl nodded slightly, then turning away from the window, she
followed her mother downstairs.
No matter how hard Usagi tried, she couldn't forget the events of the previous three days. In that
short amount of time the world that she had known for sixteen years was shattered beyond repair.
"Mama!" Usagi cried out in worry as she entered the house, dashing from room to room.
"Mama? I ran home the moment Motoki-onii-san told me you called. What happened? Where's
Shingo?"
Ikuko sat in the kitchen, staring blankly at the table. Usagi slowly walked towards her mother,
afraid to see her like this. "Mama? What is it? What's wrong?"
"It happened all so fast," Ikuko mumbled softly. "One moment, Shingo was outside practicing his
batting, and the next moment, I heard tires screeching to a stop. I didn't think twice about it until I
heard Shingo scream. The very sound of it sent chills down my spine." She shook her head and
looked solemnly at her daughter. "I couldn't get there in time to get him out of the way. Your
father called for the ambulance and they quickly took him to the hospital. I told them I would wait
here for you and then we would follow."
Usagi nodded and gently placed a hand on her mother's arm. "He'll be okay, Mama. He'll pull
through this. Shingo's got a strong spirit."
Ikuko's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you, Usagi-chan. You are my strength."
Usagi watched her father pace back and forth in the hallway, waiting for something, anything that
would tell them of Shingo's condition.
"Papa, please sit down. You're making us all nervous," Usagi begged him while holding her
mother's hand tightly in hers.
"Tsukino-san?" The doctor suddenly came through the swinging door. Kenji, Ikuko and Usagi all
looked up at once. "How is he?" Ikuko burst out first.
The doctor shook his head. "Shingo-kun's injuries are far more severe than we initially thought.
He's in a coma now. We're not even sure if he'll make it through the night."
Ikuko choked back a sob and Usagi clung tightly to her mother. Through hooded eyes, Kenji
asked, "May we see him?"
At first the doctor began to shake his head, but seeing the pleading looks on the family's faces, he
relented. "I suppose I can allow you into the ICU, but only one at a time."
Usagi felt her mother tug on her arm. "You go first, sweetheart." The blonde girl swallowed hard
and nodded. Following the doctor through the doors to the ICU, she could feel the tears well up,
but she just couldn't bring herself to cry, no matter how much she wanted to. Shingo was going to
recover, she assured herself. He just had to.
"You might be startled at first by his appearance," the doctor interrupted her thoughts. "Most of it
is tubes and wires, so you needn't be afraid." As he led Usagi into the barren antiseptic room, he
added, "But talk to him like you normally do. It will help him to hear your voice."
Usagi laughed bitterly to herself. Apparently the doctor had no idea of Shingo's hearing loss, nor
was she about to inform him of it.
"You've got ten minutes. I wish I could give you longer, but I'm already bending the rules for you
to be in here at all." The doctor left the room with no more words spoken, and Usagi finally
relaxed. Turning to her unconscious brother, she sighed. "I know you can't hear me, Shingo, but
maybe you know I'm here." She slipped her hand into his limp one, gripping it tightly.
"I need you, Shingo. I don't think I could bear to live without you. You've been my strength for so
long, I'm not sure how to do anything without you. If only I had been there, I would have kept
you out of the way of that car. It should have been me to get hit, not you. You're too good for
something like this to happen to you." She leaned over, laying her head on the stiff cotton blanket.
"It should have been me."
A sudden cough from the doorway startled Usagi. Jumping out of the chair, she turned to see her
father had entered the room. She looked back once more at her brother, and allowed a slight
smile to appear. "My time's up, Shingo. I just hope yours isn't yet."
Now here they stood on a dismal Sunday afternoon in the rain. Usagi switched from foot to foot,
sinking into the soggy grass each time she shifted her weight. The makeshift cover over the small
gathering of family and close friends was no help either. Everyone was getting wet in one way or
another.
The dress she wore scratched her and was getting too short at the hem. The last time Usagi wore
the old dress was four years ago at the funeral of a great aunt on her father's side of the family.
She couldn't remember it very well now, except the fact that the older boy cousins chased Shingo
around until she beat them up. A tiny smile tugged at her lips as she recalled that memory.
She needed something--anything!-- to keep her mind off the flower laden casket that sat before
her now, the hollow wooden box that held the body of her beloved brother. Still, no tears
escaped one Tsukino Usagi. She was too in shock to mourn her family's loss. Her loss. She had
dedicated most of her life caring for Shingo.
Usagi glanced at her father standing just a few feet away. Tears streamed down Kenji's cheeks as
he listened to the eulogy for his only son. This was a side to her father rarely seen. Maybe she
had mistaken her father all this time. He wasn't really strict or overbearing, he just didn't
understand why his son had to be the different one. The pain and sorrow of it all were evident on
his face.
'But I'm still here, Papa... will you ever love me as much as you loved Shingo? I may not be a
boy, but I am still your child... and someday, I hope I will make you proud.' If only Usagi had the
courage to say such things to her father... but this was neither the time nor place for such words.
Maybe someday she would let him know how she felt.
The time had come. Usagi never thought she would say goodbye to her brother so soon.
Stepping forward in the squishy grass, she closed her eyes and said a silent prayer, then laid two
fresh lilies on the casket. The flowers were special because she and Shingo had planted them one
year in the garden. It was only fitting to take them with him.
"Thank you for everything, Shingo. I will never forget the unconditional love you showed
everyone. I love you, little brother," she whispered in the cascading rain.
Usagi didn't budge from her room the following day. The rain continued to pour and she didn't
feel like going to school and facing all her friends. None of them knew what had happened, and
now wasn't a good time for Usagi to remember it all when it was so fresh. Her mother remained
downstairs, taking out her grief by cleaning or baking up a storm. But not even the temptation of
her mother's cooking could coax her from her spot. But staring out the window didn't help her
situation. She turned towards her door, wondering if she could help her mother in some small
way.
As Usagi left her room, she passed by the closed door to Shingo's room. Ikuko closed it two
nights ago because she still couldn't bear to pass by it without crying. Now Usagi stood in front of
it, staring at the dark wood that had quickly become a barrier to past memories.
Something inside unexpectedly made her grab the knob and twist it to open the door into the dim
room. Everything was neat and in its place, looking nothing like Shingo's room before.
Usagi walked around the perimeter of the room, letting the feel of the textured walls and things
hanging on it run beneath her fingers. She stopped and stood at the foot of the bed, gazing down
upon it solemnly. Shingo's worn out baseball glove lay at the head of the bed, a brand new
baseball nestled inside.
A slight smile came to her face as she reached over and picked up the worn glove in her hands.
Shingo loved this mitt. Night after night he would condition it and check the lacing to make sure
all was right for his next game.
He wasn't coming back.
Clutching the mitt tightly to her chest, Usagi collapsed on the bed, sobbing painfully. The reality of
it all finally struck her, and she let the tears come freely. She would never see him sprint through
the house, smiling brightly with his mitt tucked under his arm. She would never watch his hands fly
as he described the exciting moments of a game.
He wasn't coming back.
Through her tears, Usagi slid a hand under a pillow and found a small, flat object beneath it.
Puzzled, she pulled it out and stared at it, finally recognizing it to be the notebook Shingo had
been carrying around with him the last few weeks. Curious, she flipped it open to the last entry in
the book, which turned out to the only entry written in it. What she found surprised her.
At the end, when I lay sleeping,
will I see your smiling face in heaven?
If I could, I would take it with me and keep it close to my heart.
Do not cry for me, for I am happy though I'm no longer there.
I look forward to days when you are with me,
and I will hear your joyful laughter.
Usagi looked up from the book in shock. How had Shingo known that this was going to happen?
It was an accident, there was no way he could have seen it coming.
A tiny smile graced her lips through her sorrow. Shingo was too innocent to stay here for very
long. Even though she felt like she needed him more, she knew that his unconditional love was
needed elsewhere. And though her heartache was more than she could bear, that one little
thought was enough to help her accept the loss of her little brother.