Rating: PG, or higher. O_o
Content: Fluff, character death, mother/son bonding, flashbacks.
Genre: Morbid... ness? o_O
Summary: 'All humans die eventually,' he kept telling himself, as he brought himself to look away from the tomb-stone. 'This shouldn't be affecting me at all.'
But it was.
~*~
Memoirs of a Broken Soul
The day had started like any other day would have.
Birds were chirping ridiculously loud, there were a few puffs of white floating in the sky, the onslaught of murmurs in the crowds that were to be shuffled through in order to get to school were incoherent. It was a normal day.
Emerald eyes were glazed over, and the pale-peach skin seemed withered in a sense-- as if it haden't been in the sun in a long while. And it was true-- the young male had not been in the human sun for a good time. About a month now, he figured, he had been hidden from its rays.
Flaming locks of red hair tumbled ominously down his back, clashing with the magenta fabrics the school had given as uniforms. Two pieces of the crimson hair tampered into his face, and his bangs nearly covered his eyes.
The male continued his stride, completely void of emotion. But when greeted, he would smile, and give a meek wave. This would normally earn him a swoon, but he continued on. Most humans could never tell when he was faking his emotion.
Except for her.
He smiled a bit-- just a small bit of a smile tugging at his lips.
Her. His human "mother". She could always tell when he was faking it. No matter what he had done. Even when she was deathly sick, she could aways see through his cheerful facade.
But he shook the thoughts from his mind-- he had finally arrived to his school, slipping off his shoes and putting on the black loafers that the high-school provided.
He had then shuffled onto his next class- greeting each person that had said good morning.
But when he had arrived to his first class, he was told not to sit down-- to wait outside of the door. A bit confused, he nodded obidiently, exiting the class-room.
His teacher, with his purple eyes behind his square-rimmed glasses, and his tuffs of black hair, looked onto him rather sadly, shuffling a few papers in his hands.
"Minamino-san, I'm afraid I've recieved some bad news from the office-..." The teacher bit his lip, and leaned against the wall. How to break it to such a gentle student...?
He nodded slightly in the teachers direction, encouraging him to go on.
"... your mother is dead, Shuiichi. She passed peacfully this morning."
~*~
It had been heart-smashing, brain shattering.
He had stood there for a while, and the teacher took his shoulder.
"I'll escort you to the nurse's office. Your father will take you home."
The boy had nodded dumbly, his eyes clouded over with a mixture of emotions none could ever possibly read. Guilt, sadness, pain, fear, greif, relief. It was like looking into orbs of torturous Hell.
The rest of the day had been a blur-- he had sat in the nurse's office, quiet and refrained, his hands in his lap, his gaze on the floor. But he could not recall what he was thinking. All he could remember was the nurse apologizing to him again and again, but he had not responded.
When his father had come, he had looked up slightly. The smell of salt was apparent-- his eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks still tear-stained.
His little brother, Shuiichi, had been there, too. His face was just as wet as his fathers, and his ears were a vibrant red color.
The older male had remembered standing breifly, and taking his younger brother into arms before his father had led them both out of the office.
~*~
Now, the older male stood there, over his mothers grave. How long ago had it been? Two months-- three, maybe? He hadn't kept track.
His friends had told him he was brave-- he never cried over her-- he never stopped his over-all life.
But he wasn't brave. He was a coward.
She had been willing to die for him-- to bleed for him. She would always know how to calm his nerves, and cheer him up.
He was a youko-- he was a demon. He was not supposed to care.
But he did care. He had loved a human-- he had loved his human mother.
'All humans die eventually,' he kept telling himself, as he brought himself to look away from the tomb-stone. 'This shouldn't be affecting me at all.'
But it was. It had taken such a part of his heart, there had been days when he felt he would never smile again.
And as he looked at the tomb-stone once more, he had allowed the pin-pricks of tears take over, letting them fall down his cheeks.
Just once... just once he would cry.
The tears had blurred out his vision of the engravement on the stone, and as he turned, he knew there should have been no looking back.
But he did look back-- just one last glance.
In Memory of Shiori Minamino
A loving wife, and a loving mother.
A loving wife, and a loving mother.
