As the Flowers Fade
Sohma Yuki boarded the train with the small crowd. He headed to the empty seats in the back of the cabin and placed his suitcase at the rack above his seat. Then he sat down by the window and gazed at the platform.
It was a slow day. Not many people were heading to his destination so the cabin was quiet and had many empty seats. That suited him just fine. Large crowds tended to irritate him.
He leaned back the soft cushioned seat and closed his eyes. Involuntarily his fingers reached up and touched the pendant hanging from a silver chain on his neck. He clasped the small ring between his thumb and forefinger and caressed it slowly.
The mere touch at the small article brought back such happy memories. A smile escaped his lips as he imagined what might be waiting for him at the end of this journey.
I'm going home, he thought as his eyes fluttered open then closed again.
As the train started to move, Yuki started to remember.
"Mama, Mama, Mama…" the little boy repeated softly to himself as he hugged his legs to his chest. It was raining. The icy sheets poured down on him mercilessly. He coughed and noticed that it was getting worse.
Instead of seeking shelter, he stayed where he was. His weak lungs would kill him anyway. He knew that he wouldn't last long enough to see the next day if he kept this up. But that was what he wanted.
He was so tired and so sick… But he had no home to go back to. Everything that was old and familiar was gone. It would be futile to try and comfort him that soon his parents would come and take him away from the dark and dangerous streets.
Eight months had passed since he had gotten lost on the vast city of Tokyo and started to live in the streets. In some perverse way, he'd survived. Although he had weak lungs and lived a much pampered life before, he did. He learned how to forage for food, sleep with nothing but a newspaper to cover himself and wander.
The dark-haired boy closed his eyes and tried to suppress the onslaught of memories. He'd learned to forget, little by little. He thought that if he tried to keep his optimism up, everything will turn out fine. But day by day it lessened and now he was left to despair.
Seven-years-old and already wanting to die… he had already run out of dreams and hope. He learned that the world wasn't always sunshine and butterflies and there existed hardship that he couldn't possibly imagine before but bravely experienced. But he was so tired of fighting to keep alive.
He coughed again. This time, blood blossomed between his fingers.
It will be over soon.
He'd had this illness for a long time. His immune system was already weak even before he contracted this disease. Somehow he'd been biding for this time, knew it was going to happen.
Weary purple eyes gazed up at the gray sky thoughtfully. He knew that he was crying. But no one would know. The rain veiled his tears.
"Mama," he repeated softly. Images of his mother crept up to him, with her smiles and laughter. She loved him, didn't she?
The world was spinning then fading to darkness…
He felt his body giving up the fight. A small, semi-satisfied smile slipped into his lips.
Soon, so very soon…
"Mama!" his crying racked his body with uncontrollable sobs. But the smiling eyes and laughter turned to hatred and shouting. She hated him so…
The light at the end of the tunnel and voices were beckoning him.
A sense of calm was settling upon him and he rested against the wall of the building in the right side of the alley. His body was starting to feel numb to the rain.
Tears and rain mixed in his face but he didn't care. It didn't matter.
He fancied that he was already falling through a bottomless void with the light waiting to envelope him into its embrace. Peace, how he craved for it.
Suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around him. So warm, he thought sleepily. Then he felt himself being lifted and carried away. Maybe it was his imagination. Mama had said that the angels would carry him away if he died.
The last thing he thought before falling into the void was how strange it was that the rain had stopped. It was gone but his tears remained.
Honda Kyouko cradled the little boy in her arms. She'd immediately wrapped her coat around him to keep warm. He'd passed out and she'd feared that she came too late until she saw him breathing.
Her fingers strayed to stroke the limp dark purple hair. Poor little boy, she thought. He was so light in her arms. The boy couldn't have been any older than seven. Just like her daughter.
The older woman's heart went out to him. There were so many children out in the streets. And they all needed help. It was a poor thing that not so many people chose to help them.
Honda Kyouko chose to become a social worker after working at various odd-jobs. Fortunately she landed on becoming assistant directress in an orphanage and had food and lodging from the non-government association.
"Please go faster, Akagi-san," she said to the man driving the car. They were only two people who were able to get around picking up the homeless children. She cuddled the little boy closer to her body as if to transfer her warmth to him.
It was a good thing that she was able to come in time. She had been watching him for weeks now. From the information she'd gathered around the area, he'd been wandering around for at least three months and that he was already very sick. And from what the other children had told her, he was already waiting to die.
"Mama…" the boy whispered pathetically. Kyouko felt tears forming on her eyes and kissed his damp forehead. She let him nuzzle closer to her and swore to herself that she'd take care of him.
"I am not your mother but I'm here." Kyouko said softly as stared at him. Children looked innocent and serene in sleep but it was lost on him. His brow carried his worries and his dreams weren't pleasant, that was for sure.
Her brown eyes turned to the rain that was slowly stopping. She suddenly wondered if he'd ever see the rainbow as a sign of hope again.
