I try
But it's so hard to believe
I try
But I can't see what you see
I try, I try
I try and try
To understand
The distance in between
The love I feel,
And the things I fear
And every single dream…
Cry - Second Act
It was very dark and very cold when Shizuru awoke. A thin layer of frost had settled over the ground, encrusting everything in a diamond-like shell so that it glistened in the light of the half moon. There was frost on her eyelashes and in her hair. The ground was hard and cold beneath her aching back, and her nose, toes, and fingers had gone numb.
Shizuru didn't move. She couldn't. Her mother was here, in some form or fashion, and for the first time in many years Shizuru felt almost complete.
Daddy was the only thing missing.
Shizuru glanced at her watch as she stood. It was almost 11:00. She grimaced at the time, cracked her back, and attempted to regain some feeling in her fingers as she made her way back down the path.
She looked back only once, and promised herself that she would come and visit more often, for her own peace of mind.
As beaten ground gave way to black asphalt, Shizuru was mildly and pleasantly surprised to see that the bus was waiting for her. She climbed aboard, smiled at the driver, the same man who had tipped his hat at her, and took a seat catty-corner to him.
When the bus driver noticed her playing with her carton of cigarettes, he chuckled and said " Honey, ain't no one gonna be on this bus this late. If you'll be kind enough to lend me one I'll be kind enough to not tell anyone you was smokin' on my bus."
The bus driver opened his little window, and Shizuru handed him a lit cigarette. She lit one for herself, took a long, calming drag, and chatted amiably with the driver.
His name was Niko. He had a son and daughter, both a little older than her, and both in graduate school. His wife was visiting her mother, and no, it was no problem: he would prefer to drive her all the way home. He was off the clock, and nice young ladies like her shouldn't walk around Tokyo late at night.
So he talked about his wife and kids, and she talked about her brother, his loser friends, and all the money and time they cost her.
"Yo' too young to be worryin' 'bout another chile." Niko said, adjusting his rear view mirror. "But ya seem to have done well enough on y'own."
Shizuru smiled sadly to herself and murmured "Yeah," as she looked out the window.
Shizuru made her way quietly through the halls of her apartment building. The harsh white lighting made her head hurt, and she couldn't wait to climb into her own bed and fall asleep.
She fumbled for her keys, making no attempt at silence as she entered the apartment. If Kazuma were asleep, she wouldn't be able to wake him. He slept like the dead.
She dropped her keys and cigarettes on the side table by the door, and hung her coat up on the hooks. She slipped out of her shoes, curling her toes to make them warmer, and made her way to the kitchen. The light of the TV shone brilliantly out of the living room. All other lights had been shut off.
Pouring herself a glass of Coke, Shizuru went to her room, put on her old flannel pajamas, and returned to the living room.
Kazuma was there, sitting on the floor, staring raptly at the screen. There was a young girl, leading a toddler toward the sprinkler on a wet, green lawn. The baby boy's red hair stuck up at odd angles, and the girl laughed happily as he stumbled forward. She swept him off his feet - no easy task, for he was a rather large young thing - and planted a loud, wet kiss on his cheek.
"Oh God," Shizuru murmured, slumping down on the couch as this memory came flying back to her: it had been unusually hot that summer. Her mother had gotten Kazuo a video camera for his birthday, and he was testing it out that day.
Then the camera panned out, and there was Aiko, sitting in a white plastic recliner. She was small, and pretty in her yellow sundress, and she smiled brightly at her husband before removing her sunglasses and blowing him a kiss.
"Where did you get this?" Shizuru growled menacingly at her little brother.
Kazuma didn't even register the question. He was fixated by the image of his mother. His own memories of her were fading, growing fuzzier with each year that passed. The bright yellow of her sundress awoke other memories: a pair of canary yellow heels she just adored. She'd worn them to dinner once, and daddy'd had to carry her to the car when they were done, because her feet were killing her.
"Where did you get this, Kazuma!"
Shizuru was angry now. She never called his name to his face unless she was mad.
He finally tore his gaze away form the TV screen. Shizuru looked livid. Her fists were white where they clutched the couch cushion.
Kazuma stared at her dumbly for a minute, not sure what to say.
"Where!" she reiterated, rising to turn off the TV. The images brought back too many confusing emotions, things she hadn't felt in a long, long time.
"He… He had a birthday present for me," Kazuma mumbled, uncharacteristically shy as he reached under the coffee table to pull out a shoebox. He sat down on the couch and motioned for her to join him, as if loath to remove anything form the box.
"That video was in it," he added. "There are a few others, and some photos and ticket-stubs and stuff."
With shaking limbs Shizuru sat down beside her brother. Trembling hands reached into the box and drew out a pile of photographs; Shizuru holding baby Kazuma, who did not look at all happy to be away from his mother, who was smiling in the background, Aiko resting her cheek in Kazuma's head as he slept on her shoulder. Photo after photo of forgotten happy moments, things that Shizuru didn't want to remember, because they made her want to cry for what was lost.
Halfway through the pile was the one that did it. It was of Shizuru and Kazuo. She was young and smiling, and her little pink dress was decorated with lace frills and rosettes. She was sitting on her daddy's lap, and he was kissing her cheek in an over-exaggerated manner. He was smiling too. The back was labeled, in a small neat script she knew to be her mother's, "Daddy's girl on her 5th birthday."
The unfamiliar, unpleasant feeling of tears began to prick at the back of Shizuru's eyes, so she closed them.
It didn't do a damn thing. She could still see herself, smiling and happy and trusting, on his lap like some little angel.
You were my whole world, she thought angrily to herself, wadding up the picture and flinging it across the room. I was just a child! You were supposed to take care of me when she died! You were supposed to take care of both of us!
Kazuma didn't know what to do, so he just kept leafing through the photos. He found one that made him want to chuckle, so he shoved it under his sister's nose, hoping it would make her feel better.
Shizuru took one look at the four cake-covered faces smiling back at her and burst into tears. Great, quaking sobs broke forth from a mouth whose pain had been silent for so long. She pulled her knees up to her chest, buried her head in her arms, and cried. Hot, salty tears burned her face, dripping down onto her arms and the sofa. Her chest ached.
Kazuma didn't know what to do, so he put the photos back in their box and hugged his sister.
"What the hell was going through his mind?" Shizuru choked out, laying her head on his shoulder. "We were just kids! We were helpless, and - and scared, and what does he go and do? He starts wailing on us like it's his God-given right!
"I was so scared of him," she whispered, curling herself into a ball in the circle of her brother's arms. "I could handle being hit, that never scared me, but… but watching him hit-"
"Be quiet Shizuru," Kazuma ordered gently, arms tightening around her. "Just be quiet and cry… You're getting my shirt wet."
End Act Two
AN: So i hope y'all like it... it's almost over, just the epilogue left! yay!
