Revelations
It had been a painful revelation for Takahashi Takahiro upon learning of his beloved parents demise when a police officer had shown up at his door during the awful storm, unlike any they'd seen in years. He'd told his little brother to go to his room and not to come out until he called him, sensing something was terribly wrong and not wanting Misaki to hear it other than from him.
The officer had told him, unsmiling, uncomfortingly, "I'm sorry Takahashi Takahiro, but your parents Takahashi Misao and his wife Takahashi Takara were involved in a three car pile up on the highway."
The black haired senior high school student, just days away from graduation had dreaded what the officer had to say next, his heart had pounded painfully against his chest. All too soon, his worst fears had been confirmed.
"Takahashi-kun," the officer held his hat down in his hands in front of him, gazing down at the ground, "your parents, didn't make it," as the man in uniform finished he looked up, placing his cap back on his head with an apologetic glance.
He'd at that time been to shell shocked to say anything, to do anything other than to burst into tears as he fell to his knees. The officer trying to comfort him, by patting his shoulder, but there had been no comfort in that touch, for the man was a stranger, the messenger of ill-fortune.
The officer asked him, whilst he wept into his shaking hands, silent sobs racking his frame, "Takahashi-kun, is there anyone you'd like us to call for you?"
"My... grandparents, aunts and uncles. They need to know," he responded hoarsely, brokenly. With a deep breath he'd stood, though still shaken, he knew he had to be strong, if not for himself, then his baby brother, ten years his junior. Would the eight year old who resembled so much their mother, save for the color of his chocolate brown hair which had been attributed to their maternal grandfather, understand at all what was going on, he doubted it.
Once the call had been put through, their family was there within a matter of hours, just before the early hours of dawn. They'd discussed amongst themselves the funeral arrangements, after the bodies had officially been identified by Takahiro and his grandparents.
Misaki though he'd dozed off for awhile, stirred upon hearing the commotion of voices as they mentioned accidents and funerals. Walking up to Takahiro, the eight year old with wide emerald green eyes clung to his brother, dazed and confused as all eyes fell upon him.
Takahiro did not like where the conversations direction at that time seemed to be headed and had wrapped his arm more tightly around his little brother, determined that in place of his parents he would raise him, himself.
"I'll raise Misaki," he'd told the family gathered around in their living room in the dead of night just before the sun begun to rise.
His parents had been taken from them both, he hadn't been about to let anyone or anything separate him from his dear baby brother, even if it meant never going to the university that he'd been accepted to.
He'd decided that very early morning that, instead he would directly step into the workforce in order to care for his one and only sibling, a very vulnerable eight year old.
This morning however, three days after the incident and two days before the actual funeral was to take place he'd finally read the newspaper that had detailed what had happened the night of the accident. Before he'd been unable to remove the paper from its string, or allow Misaki anywhere near it, even if the boy enjoyed the funnies, but he didn't wish to cause his little brother anymore pain than he was already suffering.
His brother was too young to be dealing with death, even he himself thought that he was too young, but at least he could do as he pleased and he'd chosen to raise his brother in place of their parents. Misaki though, he was only eight, had he not taken him under his wing he doubted anyone else in their family would have and Misaki would not have had a say in anything.
Lifting a cup of coffee to his lips, he blew at it as the steam rose from it an a continuous swirl, before fully evaporating into the air. As he took a sip from the mug he skimmed over the paper.
His eyes widened as he read that there had been a third victim, one whom had survived, but seemed to be in a mild comatose state. The name caused him to blink, his hand hovering in mid air, still holding the handle, his mouth ajar as he couldn't quite believe it.
Quickly placing his mug back on the coaster that sat on the coffee table, a splash of scalding hot coffee falling onto the mahogany surface as blue eyes skimmed over the paper once more.
Sure enough it read, 'The previous night, during a horrendous electrical storm, with heavily pouring rain that came down so quickly, the droplets so large it was difficult to see even out of ones window, there were a number of accidents. Yet the one on the bend of a cliff involved three vehicles. One of the cars belonged to Takahashi Misao and Takara, who did not survive, they had to be pried out with the jaws of life, lodged between another car and a large truck. The second car, which the Takahashi car was rammed into as the large truck behind them sped into them, held only the driver, a senior high school student, Kamijou Hiroki, whom is in a state of comatose. The truck driver, whom was the instigator, going over the speed-limit and with a BAC of 0.15.'
The young man in the comatose state was someone Takahiro knew, through his friend Usami Akihiko, who he himself had nicknamed Usagi. He'd heard from Usagi prior to the accident, that Kamijou's parents had gone off for an extended second honeymoon and wouldn't return until the official commencement of the students that was two weeks away, though their actual school year was over.
Frowning, Takahiro stood up and dialed the hospital that he believed Kamijou Hiroki to have been taken too, the same hospital where he'd gone to, so that he could help to clarify that it was indeed his parents whom had died in the senseless accident. Even though he didn't know Kamijou well, for he was more Akihiko's friend than his, he was still someone he knew, offhand.
He also didn't want yet another innocent person to perish, because of the drunken driver who had ruined several lives by killing, even without the intention to do so, two people that night of the storm. He prayed that Kamijou would not die, that he'd come out of his coma.
"Hello, I'd like to know if you have a patient by the name of Kamijou Hiroki there. He's eighteen and a high school senior about to graduate. He was involved in the same accident as my parents, the Takahashi's. I go to school with him."
There was a brief pause before the person on the other end of the line replied, "Yes, he's here."
"Thank you!" Forgetting to ask whether or not anyone was aloud to see him, he rushed into Misaki's bedroom, where the boy was bent over the family photo album, tear-stains marring the pages, but at least there was thick plastic to protect the pictures. "Misaki, come on, we're going to the hospital."
Large emerald green eyes looked up at him, a tiny hand lifting to scrub at the waterlogged eyes. "Nii-chan," he sniffled, "why?"
"A friend of mine was also in the accident."
The little boys bottom lip trembled, "Di-did t-they d-die too?"
Takahiro shook his head, "No, but he's not well, they can't wake him up, but he's still breathing. It might still be possible that he'll die, but maybe if we go to see him, because his parents are away, he might get better."
Misaki blinked, sniffling again as he rubbed his eyes dry, standing up to place his hand in his big brothers.
It wasn't long before they arrived at the hospital, having taken the subway three blocks from where they lived to the station that was only a block and a half away from the building that was their destination.
Takahiro at the front desk asked the receptionist, "What room is Kamijou Hiroki in?"
They glanced up, "Only relatives may see him."
"His parents are on their honeymoon for the next two weeks and they cannot be contacted. I'm a friend of his and I just want to see him, maybe if he hears a familiar voice he might wake up..." his voice trailed off as the receptionist glared at him as though he were an idiot, though he didn't notice it.
His words had trailed off, because he doubted he would have the power to awaken the temperamental childhood friend of his friend Usagi. Although he had not wished to disturb him while he was out house-hunting and holing himself away to work on a manuscript.
Misaki noticing the receptionists glare gazed up at Takahiro, "Are we going to see him Nii-chan?" And the receptionist herself heard that sentence, missing the word him, and assumed that Misaki was Kamijou Hiroki's little brother instead of Takahiro's. After all the two didn't look anything alike.
"He's in room 313-B," then she waved him away after he'd signed in Takahashi Takahiro & Misaki.
They took the elevator to the third floor and found 313-B near the end of the hall to their right as they stepped out.
Misaki hid behind his brothers leg as the man in the hospital bed next to the window groaned, slowly lifting his hand as though with much difficulty, to his head.
Takahiro gave Misaki's shoulder a reassuring squeeze as they stepped up to the bed, the older of the Takahashi brothers gazing down at hair, which according to L'Oreal Feria's hair color chart, was hot-toffee brown, but natural.
The brothers watched, silently as the hospital gown clad young man, of Takahiro's age, struggled to open his eyes, they could visibly see his eyes twitching.
Finally ever so slowly, the long thick dark lashes fluttered open, revealing cinnamon red-brown irises that were unfocused, and as the man beneath the covers turned his head, he winced. His eyes slowly trailed up as he caught sight of the two people standing at his bedside.
He didn't recognize the boy with green eyes, so for the moment ignored him, his cinnamon brown gaze gradually meeting that of dark blue, but once again nothing registered. He did not recognize this man, who stood over him, his brows furrowing as he tried to find answers to the mounting questions.
"Hello Kamijou."
The man who'd just come out of a three day coma blinked, "Who?"
