Hello, everyone.
Today, I come to you all with an author's note much more solemn than usual.
Very recently, a fellow classmate of mine was in a car accident and passed away.
This one-shot is dedicated to her memory.
The Children Of The Silent Parade
With the Sun's first few rays piercing the horizon, a hoard of children left their homes.
Some were big, some were small, some were geese, some were pigs.
Some were quiet, some were crying, some were walking hand in hand.
But all the tears were silent, and all the sobs went unheard.
For no sound came from the silent parade.
They came from the shops. They came from the houses. They came from the east. They came from the west.
They trickled down the streets from every direction, all headed in the same direction.
They wordlessly came together, and walked amongst one another without a sound.
The Sun rose over the horizon, and the sky was beautiful, but no birds were chirping.
For no sound came from the silent parade.
Some of them knew her well. They had lost their best friend.
Some of them had never spoken to her. But they, too, felt the loss.
The children came to the foot of the Ten Thousand Steps, but they did not pause.
They pushed on, determined to make the final voyage for their friend. But no one complained, and no one whined.
For no sound came from the silent parade.
They shuffled up the stairs, and one step at a time, their destination came closer and closer.
Some wanted to walk the stairs forever; they did not want to reach the top and perform the final duty.
In their paws and in their hooves, in their claws and in their hands, they carried floating lanterns.
The children were now almost there, yet there were still no sounds of pain or fatigue.
For no sound came from the silent parade.
What was it that had hit them so hard?
Was it that she had been so young? That she had been so sweet and kind?
Perhaps they thought that she was the person least deserving to leave the world so early.
After all, she had been on the brink of adulthood, about to leave the Valley for the great world beyond that she would now never see.
What was it that had hit them so hard?
Was it the idea that it could happen to them, too? That one day, their friends, their loved ones would wake up to learn that they, too, had died?
The very thought seemed impossible. Fate would protect them from such an ending, would she not?
Did Fate's grey eyes not watch over all of them? Where were those eyes looking when she had died?
By now, the children had made it to the top of the Ten Thousand Steps.
As they gathered in the Jade Palace Courtyard, they began to form a circle.
Slowly, they began to surround an invisible center. Perhaps they imagined her to be in the center.
Soon, the children passed matches among themselves, and they lit the lanterns.
Each child lit them in their own way. Some instantly lit the flame. Others hesitated.
Eventually, they all lifted the lanterns above their heads, and, without a single word, released them at the same time.
They gently floated up into the air, a mass of white.
They jostled one another as they rose, but as the wind began to blow, they drifted apart.
Higher and higher they rose, until they became tiny specks to the children below.
Then, they disappeared from view entirely.
The children continued to stare at the patch of sky where they had faded away.
They simply refused to turn their heads away, to admit that anything else existed.
Wordlessly, they reached out for each other, and they found each other.
Paws and claws, hooves and hands met and interlocked.
But, still, they made no sound.
After all, no sound was allowed in the silent parade.
Fragile
The wind blew gently through the bamboo leaves, and yet they did not rustle with their usual vibrancy. Normally, the rustling of the leaves was a gentle and comforting sound: nature's way of speaking. But, today, to the ears of the panda sitting among them, the trees seemed to moan in the wind, echoing a hollowness in the air.
Po Ping was sitting by her grave atop a small stone, in a small clearing in the bamboo forest, where the final resting place of many lay. It was still morning, and the dew had not yet dried from the blades of grass. Spring had come, and the leaves and foliage were growing back to their full strength. The breeze was refreshing, but the panda did not seem to notice.
He was bent over, his elbows resting on his knees and his paws clasped together, gently rubbing themselves, more so for comfort than for heat. His eyes were resting on the girl's gravestone, unmoving. His eyes seemed to hold no emotion in them, yet the drying streaks upon his cheeks told a different story.
The panda seemed perfectly content to sit upon the stone and stare at the grave quite motionless, but he was eventually disturbed by the sound of soft footsteps.
"Po? Is that you?" a familiar voice called out. He turned his head to look, but he already knew who it was.
Tigress came forward to stand beside Po. Unlike most days, she was not adorned with her usual golden hanfu, but rather with a solemn outfit of black silk. There were words and symbols embroidered into the outfit: tales of death and passages into the next world. It was an outfit of mourning. Rare was its usage, but on the occasions it was used, it was always with a heavy heart.
"Hey, Tigress," Po's weak voice answered. Tigress, now directly next to Po, placed her paw on his shoulder. He mindlessly placed his own paw atop hers and held on to it.
They remained in that position for some time, both of their gazes fixated upon the grave. Eventually, Tigress broke the silence once more.
"How are you doing?"
The panda merely shrugged his shoulders and heaved a sigh. "Been better, I guess."
Po went silent again, and Tigress realized that she was going to have to guide the conversation if she wished to learn what was it that was affecting Po so greatly.
"Did you know the girl back from when you still lived in the Valley?"
This was finally enough to break Po's focus from the grave and make him turn his head to look at Tigress.
"What?" he asked. "Oh… no, no, I didn't know her. I just found out about it yesterday."
Tigress nodded. "I see." She hesitated for a second before asking her next question, as she was perfectly aware it might not sound so pleasant. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but why…" her voice drifted off as she struggled to find the right words.
"Why am I sitting here at the grave of someone I don't know?" Po finished for her. "When there have been many deaths before this in the Valley?"
"Well… yes."
Po gave Tigress a soft smile. "Hmm… I couldn't really tell you. Maybe it's because she was so young." Tigress nodded in sympathy as he continued. "I mean, I know that people all die someday. It's a part of life. Those who die in old age have their lives celebrated, and the people know that they have experienced all that life had to offer them. But the girl? She was so young…"
His voice drifted off at the end of his sentence, and his eyes slowly peeled away from Tigress and back to the grave, as if attracted by an undeniable force.
The feline allowed a few more moments to pass in silence before she continued. "I understand, Po. It's hard when things like this happen. It isn't fair. It really isn't fair…"
"I went and offer my condolences to her parents, y'know?" Po said.
"Really? Well, I'm sure they appreciated the gesture."
"Hm," the panda absent-mindedly hummed. "I heard that she was the sweetest person they had known."
Tigress's grip tightened on Po's shoulder.
"Po…" she began.
But Po continued. "They told me what happened, you know. I didn't ask, and I didn't want to make them think about it, but they just sorta told me anyway. She had been out at her boyfriend's house late into the night. And then she had been on her way home, but it was raining hard. They don't know for sure -"
"- Po," Tigress tried to interrupt once again, but the panda continued anyway.
" - But they think she must have been sprinting through the rain on the path back to the Valley. She slipped in the mud and fell into the ditch on the side of the road. She hit her head on one of the rocks and…" Po's voice drifted off, as he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. It wasn't as if he needed to, anyway. It was clear what had happened next.
"They said she had big plans, you know?" Po continued. "They said she was going to go to the Capital to live out her dream of being a doctor. She just wanted to help people - "
"Po!" Tigress shouted, stopping Po's ceaseless barrage of words. He tore his gaze away from the gravestone once more to look at the feline, who was standing there with a stern yet empathetic look on her face.
"Po, I know that what happened hurts. I do. It hurts me, too. It hurts us all. But you cannot sit here and reflect on the life that she will not have. It does you no good. It does the girl no good. It does her parents no good."
The panda looked deep into the familiar amber eyes, searching for something he desired.
Eventually, he slowly nodded his head in agreement.
"I will not tell you to be happy or to rejoice her entering the Spirt Realm," Tigress continued. "It is okay for you to mourn in your own way, even if you didn't know her personally. Death touches us all, Po. Maybe it's because we know it will happen to us that it touches us so much."
"Yeah…" Po's weak, breaking voice answered. His eyes were welling up with tears, and he tried to turn his gaze away from Tigress, but the feline had none of it. She gripped his other shoulder with her free paw and picked him up off of the stone he sat on, wrapping her arms around his shoulders tightly in a fierce hug.
It was too much for the panda, and he finally broke down, freely sobbing into her shoulder. He wished he could have been better able to translate his thoughts into words. He hadn't known the girl personally, and yet no other death that had ever reached his ears had quite impacted him like this one. Perhaps visiting her family and feeling their grief emanating out of them had affected him. Perhaps it was because the girl had been so kind and so pure that it seemed unfair that she should be the one to die. Perhaps it was because there were so many ways that it might have been avoided. If she hadn't gone to her boyfriend's house, if she hadn't been sprinting in the rain, if she hadn't slipped, if that rock hadn't been in that exact spot…
However, perhaps it was the one detail that he hadn't been able to tell Tigress that really affected him. The girl's family had told him that it wasn't a stranger who found her body on the side of the road. It had been her boyfriend himself. It seemed that when she hadn't arrived home by morning, her parents went to his house to look for her, but, of course, she hadn't been there. They searched the area for her, and he had been the one to find her.
Po could only imagine in horror what it must have been like to peer over the side of the road and see the body of his love just lying there, dead. If he ever saw Tigress lying there like that…
Tigress continued to hold on to Po. The natural responses such as "shhh" or "it's okay," came to her mind, but she did not say them. It was not okay, after all, and there was no need for Po to deny his emotions. Like an arrow wound, it was best to pierce it through all the way rather than to rip it out. To experience the sorrow of loss fully and completely. So instead, she simply answered -
"I'm here, Po. I'm here."
As the minutes passed, Po's sobs began to lessen. He gripped Tigress just a little bit tighter and whispered into her ear -
"Thank you."
Then, he backed away and let his arms return to his sides, ending a much-needed embrace. After dropping his gaze to the ground, Po asked in a timid voice -
"Tigress?"
She looked back at him, already perfectly aware that he had something to ask of her. And she was also willing to oblige him whatever his request may be.
"Yes, Po?"
"Um… could you sit here for a little while? With me, I mean?" His eyes darted up at the end of his question, looking to her face for an answer.
Tigress softly smiled. "Of course, Po."
And so, Po returned next to his stone and sat down, but he did not sit on it. He motioned for Tigress to sit down beside him on the side without the stone, so that they would both be on level ground. She did so, and Po shamelessly leaned his head into her shoulder. Tigress thoughtlessly placed her arm around his back and rested her paw atop his head, gently rubbing it. Po could feel the motion of Tigress's chest as she breathed in and out, and he began to mimic the pattern without noticing. The fate of the girl still pained him, but with his closest friend by his side, holding him, he felt just a little bit of comfort.
He knew that he could not ever forget just how much Tigress meant to him, because he did not know when Death would come for either of them. It could be in sixty years. It could be tomorrow. But it did not matter. Because he knew that he would cherish every day he had with those he loved.
And not even Death held sway over Love.
It has occurred to me while writing this that it might appear that I am using this tragic event to gather attention to myself, to profit and gain attention for my own use. I can assure you all that I write and publish this story with nothing but respect for my classmate, and my purpose here is to honor her memory.
However, readers, I will still make a request of you. Please do not review, favorite, or follow this story. We will honor the memory of this girl with silence. If you absolutely must say something about it, you may PM me, but do NOT leave a review on this story. I will block your account or delete your review if I have to.
Thank you. And do not forget that tomorrow is not promised to any of us. So make every day count. Make it matter that you were here on this planet. If you do that, then my classmate will not have died in vain.
May you forever rest in peace, my friend.