Notes: This is not a romance. Thiswas just me relinquishing a bunch of pent-up negative emotions. Okay? Okay. Also, the Point-of-View keeps switching between first and third person. This is intentional. If it gets confusing, I'm sorry. I wrote this before Christmas, so in a way it was a tragic Christmas story... it has grammaritcal errors because only SpellCheck was run, and it didn't catch all the errors. This is only maybe four months old, tops.
Vive – For how long
Who are you, to decide who lives and who dies? I wondered to myself, walking along the cold winter streets of Shibuya. Who are you to decide, who we meet… and upon their departure, how long we cry? The thought continued, the icy winter air blowing in my face. Who are you…? The last question floated through my mind. Closing my blue eyes, I kept walking and my thoughts to myself. Despite the snow falling slowly from the sky like tiny apparitions, the feel of winter wasn't exceptionally strong. The cold did not 'nip' at her nose like the Christmas jingles claimed. She did not want warm arms keeping her safe from 'Jack Frost'. The weather wasn't even frightful… it was comforting, in a haunting sort of way. I knew I was a morbid girl. Thinking that way, especially at Christmas!
A small kitten limped over; it's paws perhaps growing numb from all the snow it was stepping on. Blinking curiously at it, I peered closer. It had shaggy gray fur, with black blotches on it's ears, tail, and paws. It's green eyes were wide and curious, leaning forward with its nose jutted out to catch a whiff of her scent. Perhaps a small kitten could sense whether a person was safe or not, entirely by smell only. Perhaps it was only curious what she smelled like, if it had met her once before. Reaching down she petted it, and almost instantly it began the soft murmuring purr only kittens had. Its e yes were closed, and curved in an upward fashion expressing it's content and joy from the gentle strokes of my hand.
Based on it's genially behavior, it belonged to someone. Perhaps a small little girl, talking animatedly to her parents about what she and Koneko wanted for Christmas. As the little girl did this, the kitten was outside doing its kitten thing without straying too far from its little girl's dwelling. I picked up the kitten, who then rubbing it's head against my cheek; startling me. The faint scent of cinnamon and gingerbread was on it, and as I squatted down it's purring continued. Hints of small mews emitted from it's throat, similar to a child first hearing of Santa Claus and explaining to their parents how they'll see the kind man while they drifted off to sleep. Their words becoming less and less understandable, until ultimately merely the child's mouth is moving and speaking the words of an endless imagination. The words all parents have forgotten, and smile to hear that familiar language once more; the language they comprehend no longer.
You've no idea of the dangers all around you. I thought, gently moving the kitten in my arms as I re-situated myself. I now had my legs drawn beneath me, my butt resting warmly on my now freezing feet. The kitten was cuddled in my arms; relishing the warmth my body gave it. I could just squeeze your throat… I thought, placing my fingers behind its neck like a pillow, and I my thumb directly over its throat; the vibrations of it purring almost massaging the digit. Push down, and in a few seconds flat you'd be dead. However, I just moved my thumb up and down along its neck. All cats for some reason loved their chin to be scratched or rubbed. Yet you trust me. A complete stranger, someone who just petted you once. And you trust me. As if there's no evil in the world, no cruelty. I sighed, reveling at its ignorance. A type of ignorance no human child ever would have, because they had parents for at least the first sixteen years of their life. Sometimes more, sometimes less.
Cats, on the other hand, could leave their mothers usually somewhere around two-in-a-half months after birth. In cat years, that's not even seven years old. This was probably because the cat had better instincts than people. They could sense natural disasters, see through deception, and even perhaps the ghosts of people. Cats could very well have a sixth sense, a type that would allow them to see the auras of people. Yet, in spite of this they were unaware of the tsunami that hit southern Asia close to a year ago now. They would never know that sixty years ago a great war, more recognized as the Second World War, ended with cities ruined and lives devastated. The cats would never know that, because Izumi's grandmother had been exposed to the atomic bomb from afar and lived later died of leukemia. Through sheer luck the genetics that contained the disease was not inherited by Izumi, or her mother. All the cats knew, were that some nights Izumi would cry and she needed comfort. They'd never know she cried because she never met her grandmother; this woman who had painted the skies onto to paper.
For you, the world is just a dream with obstacles. She thought, and set the confused kitten down. It gave me a disgruntled look, and a short laugh escaped my lips. "Be careful." I told it. "Someone loves you, quite possibly more than you love them or even know. Don't ever leave them. Be careful." With a smile, I pushed its little kitten butt forward. It turned to look at me, and expression that practically said: Love isn't defined by who has more. As it trotted away, I resumed my walk down the winter streets. The soft pads beneath the kitten's feet silenced its return journey to the home it belonged too. Closing her eyes as she walked, the sounds of silence echoed in her ears. The world whirled beneath her, whispering secrets so softly she merely heard the blur of them rather than the words. Even though she could not understand it, she listened in any case. It never hurt to listen to what the world wanted to tell you. Gaea was always ready and eager to be heard by its inhabitants.
Walking through the desolate streets, she stopped and opened her eyes. She stared up at the sky, covered by clouds as it hid the stars selfishly. No, these streets are far from desolate. I thought, ignoring the wind blowing at my face again. These streets have the snow. They have the buildings that keep us warm. The sleeping squirrels in their burrows… strays and domesticated animals. The kitten proved as much. She gave a soft chuckle. Just because I can't speak to the buildings, clouds, or snow does not mean the streets cannot. Just because the squirrels aren't in my view, does not mean they aren't there to hear you speak to them. Ending her thoughts, she resumed her gave to what was in front of her. Street lamps glowing as if they were tiny suns trapped in strange poles, and settled snow glittering like the stars hidden by clouds.
Besides, no one is alone. Her thoughts came back, just like they always did when she was left to her own inner most confidential solitude. Guardian angels, haunting demons, ghosts of loved ones…I thought. There's always someone with us, be they there for righteous reasons, mischievous reasons, or just plain because they love us. Satisfied with this conclusion, she continued in her strolling. There was no reason for her to walk outside, she just did. In the distance, a screech pierced through the night. It was like the car was screaming in terror as its driver swerved it dangerously along the frozen streets. Eyes widening, I ran as fast as I could towards where it was. The feeling of fear made the adrenaline pump through my veins and energize my legs into working and my heart into beating faster.
Reaching the scene, the car immediately drove away in a rush; afraid. One of its tail-lights were out, but if the driver was still capable of taking their vehicle out from the pole it crashed into they must've been okay. Idiots, drinking all their alcoholic eggnog. She thought with disgust. As she rolled her eyes in utter revulsion, they landed on a red blotch. Panic rising again, she looked around to see if it was from the driver or some other source. Her heart skipped a beat, now two. There, lying crippled in the snow was a gray ball, curled. One of its legs was missing, and part of its side was ripped revealing red flesh beneath. Another of it's legs were bent in a manner Izumi was positive wasn't normal. She rushed over, and regardless of the blood seeping into her clothes she picked up the kitten. The cold biting ferociously at her watering eyes, she helplessly looked around her. Turning and turning, circles making circles she looked.
One second, two second, how long would its little heart pump? Three seconds, four seconds, whom could she run to so it could be saved? Five seconds, six seconds, was she already too late? Finding the tears spilling over her eyes, she began to cry and gently massage the kittens heaving body as it struggled to live, to breathe. Sobs racketed her body, and her knees turned to rubbed. Slowly, ever so gently… a rumbling could be heard. Whimpering without meaning too, she looked down at the kitten. Carefully moving her finger to its throat, she felt gentle vibrations of it purring. Crying out, the tears began falling faster.
"Please, don't purr… don't purr…" Izumi whimpered. "Save… s-save your strength." She told it, trying to sound firm but failing in her weakening state. "Please, don't die…" She cried, clutching the purring and bleeding kitten close to her chest. Rushing down the street, she ran blindly trying to find somewhere, anywhere for the kitten to be saved. What kind of sick bastard hit an innocent kitten and drove off anyway? Shaking her head, she cleared the irate thoughts away and concentrated on locating a vet or payphone. She shouldn't have left her cell phone at home! More tears fell, like the heavens raining on a funeral day. As she continued her distressed attempt in finding a sanctuary to rescue this kitten, she could still feel the faint vibrations of it's purring.
Reaching a street corner, she looked about wildly. Which way should I go? The kitten moved some, raising its good front paw up. It was almost as if it was trying to reach her face, to summon her to listen. She looked down at the bundle in her arms, the small innocent bundle. Her eyes meeting the kittens, the wisdom the world spoke to her not but ten minutes ago was translated. When a cat purrs, it does not always signify they are happy or content. Without tear ducts, they cannot cry. So they convey their sorrow, their understanding through their purrs. When you cry yourself to sleep at night, they purr next to you so you know: I cry with you. When you find yourself out of tears, and still aching their purrs tells you: I continue to cry for you, because no matter how much you want too you can't. When you are beaten and pushed around, and refuse to cry they are at your home, purring their tears for you. The blonde's lower lip quivered, finding her heart sink into the depths of despair, her blue eyes reading what the green ones had to say.
I cry now, because you cry. You who so tenderly held me when my paws were cold. Don't be sad that my time came too soon. Be happy that I had time in this world at all. I'm happy to have met you madam, and I am happy people wanted me in their homes. Tell the little girl I wish I had the chance to meet, and to love her. The last of its purrs faded away, the kitten no longer stirring, no longer struggling. It was at peace now, its soul flying away in the cold winter air. Though for a brief moment in time, the air was not cold. It was not warm. It was numb, as the blonde just stared at the dead body in her arms. That poor little girl… now without her kitten, all because of a careless driver. Blinking, her tears quickly she noticed a thin line of a collar around the kittens neck. Picking it up, she saw the license.
Taking a shaky breath, she read the address and began a slow tread towards the address. Reaching it, she knocked on the door and had her back turned to it when seeing people coming. A man, somewhere in his mid-twenties, answered. He has short black hair, and inquisitive brown eyes. Closing her eyes, feeling the soft body growing cold Izumi worked on her courage to tell him. To tell him his daughters kitten got hit by a car, and died before she could reach a vet or help. Swallowing saliva, she drew a shaky breath confusing the man even more.
"Did you… did you own a gray kitten, with blacks markings sir?" I asked in a shaky voice.
"Why yes… it was to be our daughter's Christmas present. She's out of town… so she doesn't know yet." He explained, before trying to peer around her. "Did you find it? We let him outside earlier, and he hasn't come back yet." He informed her. I wanted to just fall to the snow, let it's ice eat me alive. I didn't want to tell him… I didn't even want to believe it still.
"Earlier… while I was walking, I heard a car." Izumi began, and could sense the man's face growing fearful attributes. The wide eyes, the gaping mouth, the paling of one's skin… "When I checked it out, a c-car was driving away. I… I tried to find a vet. Or a p-payphone… I'm so sorry…" She broke out in sobs once more. "I don't know what to do… I just found its collar a-and… I don't even know w-w-why…" She was half-hiccupping, half crying at this point, no longer able to say anymore. The man turned her around, and his mouth set into a thin line seeing the body. He carefully took it from her.
"It wasn't your fault. I'm… I'm glad you told us. And brought it back… we can give it the proper burial at least." He said, looking down at the small body as his began to water as well. "I'm sorry you had to go through this… and sorry it had a short life." He squeezed his eyes shut. "Thank you… please don't be offended, but I'd like you to go now. All right?" He requested. The blonde meekly nodded, understanding his reasons. Walking away, the tears still fell and her heart still bled from its emotional wounds. In all my years to come, I could never hear a cat purring without thinking back on that night. I could never hear a cat purring, without wanting to cry. Since that night, I could never own a cat either. She told her friends about that night, and ever since they would go with her to visit that solemn street every early December, and pay a tribute to every soul that never made it to the day that celebrated friends, family, and life itself. While not everyone celebrates it for it's initial purpose, it is still celebrated. It is celebrated with joy and love in people's hearts, but unfortunately not everyone is able to do that. I spend my Christmas now, years later, alone yet not alone. My heart reaches out to the others who spend the holiday by themselves, whether by choice or because they feel they have no one for them. And I always think of those who didn't make it to that one special day, and celebrate their life, and hope to see them again when I come to that point in time where I never see that day come. Then I can truly spend the holidays with everyone I love, and more.