The last for a while.
Chapter 4: And then there were occasional hiccups.
-
In all honesty, the creaking of the door was enough to make him jump.
Not that he was usually jumpy at all, but the eerie silence of the almost-empty (there was something in there- something alive, besides Kimihiro) was absolutely creeping him out. It wasn’t really to be surprised about when it came to three-year-olds (rather, three years and eight months and two weeks and ten hours and ten minutes and ten seconds old), but Shizuka was used to being stoic, in that manner. After all, his father had always told him that it was better for him to be that, because then no person would hinder him from becoming a monk.
Shizuka knew what a monk was and understood all the responsibilities surround it (as much as he bothered to admit, anyway). He knew that being a monk meant abstaining from the rest of the world, perhaps beside getting married to become a otosan and all that. His father wasn’t exactly clear on the getting married bit, because he looked quite uncomfortable- and his obasan had even pointed out, Hiroshi, don’t be so unclear. And then he turned to Shizuka and said, there will come a time when you will understand. When you find yourself doing everything for another person. If that is so, cherish that person, because he is the most important to you and that is not a bad thing. And he had smiled, the cheerful, old, crinkled smile of his.
Shizuka was too young to understand, of course- but he very well could see the connection when it came to Kimihiro.
Perhaps it was a hidden sentiment, but Kimihiro was kind of important to him. After all, the young boy was his ever first friend around his age. Not that he liked getting out much, but most of the kids usually passed by the temple without even looking at him. To think that he was a weak boy, too (which was why he was told to wear kimonos at home). Kimihiro had been the first to look at him, to insult him, and to refuse the cookies his mother had made him, that time. It was made of oats, and Shizuka liked them very much.
So as he put a foot after the other into the silent apartment, he could finally understand what his grandfather had meant when he said doing everything for another person, and that is not a bad thing. Because even though he felt very, very, VERY scared, there was something inside him, nagging him, to save Kimihiro.
That much was enough to give him strength.
There was a thick carpet at his feet, and it was made of bright, yellow petals. Shizuka could smell the faint essence of sunflowers, calming and fragrant, and it led him by the nose towards what seemed to be the public dining room. The place was not small at all- in fact, it was large and rather accommodating, and the feel was warm. Suddenly he could feel all fear leaving him, and slowly he entered the open door.
As he did, a flurry of petals greeted him- and suddenly he was in a wide meadow teeming with wild sunflowers, showering him with an array of warmth and welcome. He looked around to see where he really was, and was both surprised and relieved to see the still open door behind him. He turned his gaze back front and slinked his hand into the pocket of his coat, giving the bag of marbles a swift squeeze. He had always been told to keep his guard up- and though he never got it at first, he now knew what his parents meant by that.
He then rested his eyes on the back of a girl, who was crouching a few paces in front of him, as if she were bending to pick the sunflowers spread across the land. She was fairly pretty, with her wavy hair tied in long pigtails at each side of the head, decorated by thin trails of yellow ribbons matching the colors of the fields around her. She was wearing a decent, floral dress, and she seemed nice enough. Shizuka then decided it best to say something, at that.
“Hello.” He spoke in the same nonchalant baritone (quite deep for his age).
The girl turned to look up at him, and her eyes were marvelous orbs with sunflowers reflected in them, although Shizuka wasn’t really sure why her eyes did even if she was looking at him. She had a sweet smile upon her face, bright and friendly, and they opened to reveal a bottomless gap between rosy lips.
“Hello there,” she paused a bit; “Do I know you?”
“No. I’m Shizuka Doumeki. I was wondering if you know Kimihiro, by any chance. He lives next door.”
The girl’s eyes brightened, and the flowers within them bristled in what seemed to be excitement. “Of course I do! He’s really nice. Have you two met before?”
“Just a day ago, yeah.” He replied truthfully.
She stood up so abruptly Shizuka had not even perceived it- but as he finally did, she was peering into his face, a bouquet of sunflowers in her hand.
“Then why do you seem to be…” she tilted her head, “Very good friends?”
Shizuka blinked, then shrugged. “Dunno.”
She let out a small giggle, gently putting her mouth behind her hand as she did so- and the wind rustled, and the lights grew brighter. Shizuka couldn’t help being mesmerized.
“My name is Himawari.” Then she extended out a hand to him.
He looked at her hand hesitantly. “And Kimihiro?”
“We’ll see him soon.”
He took her hand, then, and all around the rained the countless brightly-colored petals of the sun- until all there was…was darkness.
-
While Shizuka was having his adventures, Kimihiro was having his own, too.
He had looked in every single cupboard in the kitchen and had found it all empty. The water in the faucet wasn’t working well either, because all it did was spew out mud and red, irony stuff (which was vaguely familiar; like that time he had gotten a cut, and the red stuff had been there, too), which wasn’t very nice to fathom drinking, much less doing so.
But he was getting hungry. The spaghetti the other night had probably long digested, and the terrors he had experience made him thirsty. Worst of all, he needed to wee. But then he didn’t like going to the bathroom. It was terrible in there.
The longer he waited, though, the more he wanted to wee. It was the most turbulent of his troubles right now- deeply speaking- because at any time he could wet himself and that would be very, very, VERY uncomfortable.
He tried to find ways to survive and to amuse himself.
He went through all the rooms (except the bathroom) and peeked at all the cabinets and drawers he never could have looked into when his parents were present. He found nothing more than a bunch of papers with numbers on them, and Kimihiro could not possible understand what was so important about them. He found his father’s stash of pens and immediately started doodling on the papers set before him, being extra careful with putting wings and stars on the letters in big print, “Phone Bill”.
He found his mother’s cabinet of ornaments and played with them, although immediately giving up when one of the santa dolls suddenly turned headless. He found the photo albums of his parents when they were young, and as soon as his eyes fell upon the familiar faces of his parents, the wide cerulean orbs swelled with tears.
He left the room in its state of disarray, wiping his eyes with his free arm. He passed by the wall clock his mother had placed beside the refrigerator and did his best to understand- the long hand was pointing at the number four, and the smaller one was at the number two. The thinnest arm was still ticking around the surface of the clock.
Kimihiro could not read time, but he knew what the hands meant. They meant that it was getting late- or too early, he wasn’t really sure.
With a bit of effort, he opened the refrigerator door open and found it empty. The only thing within it was coldness, and it was cold enough. He pushed the door closed again and waddled towards the main entrance of his apartment, contemplating whether to leave the safety of his home once more, or to stay and die of hunger, thirst, and bladder problems.
He decided it best to the first alternative instead, because the second sounded rather messy. However, it did not mean he was entirely ready to leave the place once more. He needed weapons, like the kinds he once saw wielded by grown-ups in action movies he wasn’t allowed to watch. He wondered if his parents had a sort of secret cabinet where they kept all those cool-looking things that went ‘bang’, and thought that maybe they didn’t. After all, the only weapons he had seen his parents brandish were the broomstick (which was far too tall for him to handle) and the rolling pin (which was too heavy to carry). But then again, those kinds of weapons were used against a singular rat. He doubted it would do him any good, even if he were to wield either of them.
Before he could decide about the weapons at all, the alarm that got off in his head whenever he had to go wee was ringing non-stop. He knew he had to go. If he kept it in any longer, none of his parents would ever be present to help him clean up. He ran full speed towards the bathroom door, only halting to a slow tempo once he got there, hesitant. The bathroom looked normal, and his potty was where it should be. With a sort of sigh, he then prepared to relieve himself, unaware of the lurking presence within the room.
-
Shizuka opened his eyes to see a singular table set before him, with chairs a bit too high for him to get onto with any ease. The room looked nice and sweet, well-decorated and well-ornamented, like being torn from a page of a fairytale book. The place smelled of cinnamons and apples, and for each seat on the table was a cup of tea, warm and ready, including his. At the middle of the tea cups was a plate stacked high with cookies, and a bunch of other tiny jars filled with sugar cubes and milk. As the sensations entered his flow of thought, Shizuka realized just how hungry he was, and quickly helped himself to some cookies.
The girl named Himawari was standing beside him, smiling silently. She made no protest as Shizuka dumped more sugar into his tea, nor did she say anything as he dumped cookies into the small jar of milk (which usually got him a reproving look from his parents). He chewed noisily, tasting each and every crunch the cookie in his mouth went as he ate. There was no other movement in the room.
It was only when he finished that Himawari spoke.
“So, Shizuka-kun, are you full now?”
Shizuka gave a heart-felt burp, and said nonchalantly: “Hai.”
Something had caught the girl’s eye, then, and silenced followed. Shizuka noticed the sudden change of mood- the bright and happy bringing turning to something fearful- and he glanced at Himawari. She was staring at the pocket where he had placed the bag of marbles, his weapons, as if she were going to get killed for even looking at them. Shizuka thought it rather weird for a kid to fear marbles, so he took them out of his pocket and dumped a handful onto his hand before offering them to her. “Would you like to play?” He asked.
Himawari took a step back to avoid any of his fingers touching her skin, and she shook her head no as the flowers in her eyes started to quiver. Shizuka could see the fear clearly now, and understood why.
She wasn’t human.
Thinking it best to take over the situation at hand, he decided to probe her with the marbles to get information of Kimihiro’s whereabouts. He knew it was practically mean, and risky, but he felt hurried, for some reason. Something was wrong and he could feel it.
“Where’s Kimihiro?” He prompted, shaking the marbles in his hand, and they clinked softly as if teasing.
The flower girl gave a small yelp; “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” She looked serious about it.
Shizuka frowned. “And I would speak up if I were you.”
Quite suddenly, Himawari’s hair was growing longer than it should be, twirling and writhing like thousands of snakes upon the marble floor. Shizuka was only lucky to be up on the chair, but the distance wasn’t much. The yellow ribbons that decorated the little girl’s hair grew wide and big and sharp, like lethal petals of a sunflower. From the girl’s overflowing mane sprouted more of such deadly plants- one by one opening up wide, with sun-like heads turning inward and becoming rather hollow. Shizuka could see, from the height he was in, how sharp the rows of tiny teeth decorated the monster flowers’ inner mouths.
Even Himawari herself wasn’t as sweet and accommodating any more. Her eyes were blindingly multicolored, brimming with hue. Her mouth, agape, was as dangerous as her plant minions’ were.
Shizuka then quickly climbed the table, carefully gaining leverage and aim to be able to launch an attack with his marbles. He knew he could not afford to waste even one- but he wasn’t sure how many he should limit himself to. The whole room was being entangled by the strands of hair resembling thick roots of plants, blocking out any sign of the serenity the place once had. A handful of marbles in one hand, he used the other to take another cookie from the plate a few inches from him, and chewed on it deliberately. Kimihiro could wait. Right now he needed to survive if he’s willing to save anyone special to him. Taking another cookie and this time stuffing it immediately into his mouth, he got ready to flick the first few marbles he had, and prayed that as soon as this was over, there would be a plate of fresh cookie oats instead of chocolate chips waiting for him back home.
[End of Chapter 4.]
-
In all honesty, the creaking of the door was enough to make him jump.
Not that he was usually jumpy at all, but the eerie silence of the almost-empty (there was something in there- something alive, besides Kimihiro) was absolutely creeping him out. It wasn’t really to be surprised about when it came to three-year-olds (rather, three years and eight months and two weeks and ten hours and ten minutes and ten seconds old), but Shizuka was used to being stoic, in that manner. After all, his father had always told him that it was better for him to be that, because then no person would hinder him from becoming a monk.
Shizuka knew what a monk was and understood all the responsibilities surround it (as much as he bothered to admit, anyway). He knew that being a monk meant abstaining from the rest of the world, perhaps beside getting married to become a otosan and all that. His father wasn’t exactly clear on the getting married bit, because he looked quite uncomfortable- and his obasan had even pointed out, Hiroshi, don’t be so unclear. And then he turned to Shizuka and said, there will come a time when you will understand. When you find yourself doing everything for another person. If that is so, cherish that person, because he is the most important to you and that is not a bad thing. And he had smiled, the cheerful, old, crinkled smile of his.
Shizuka was too young to understand, of course- but he very well could see the connection when it came to Kimihiro.
Perhaps it was a hidden sentiment, but Kimihiro was kind of important to him. After all, the young boy was his ever first friend around his age. Not that he liked getting out much, but most of the kids usually passed by the temple without even looking at him. To think that he was a weak boy, too (which was why he was told to wear kimonos at home). Kimihiro had been the first to look at him, to insult him, and to refuse the cookies his mother had made him, that time. It was made of oats, and Shizuka liked them very much.
So as he put a foot after the other into the silent apartment, he could finally understand what his grandfather had meant when he said doing everything for another person, and that is not a bad thing. Because even though he felt very, very, VERY scared, there was something inside him, nagging him, to save Kimihiro.
That much was enough to give him strength.
There was a thick carpet at his feet, and it was made of bright, yellow petals. Shizuka could smell the faint essence of sunflowers, calming and fragrant, and it led him by the nose towards what seemed to be the public dining room. The place was not small at all- in fact, it was large and rather accommodating, and the feel was warm. Suddenly he could feel all fear leaving him, and slowly he entered the open door.
As he did, a flurry of petals greeted him- and suddenly he was in a wide meadow teeming with wild sunflowers, showering him with an array of warmth and welcome. He looked around to see where he really was, and was both surprised and relieved to see the still open door behind him. He turned his gaze back front and slinked his hand into the pocket of his coat, giving the bag of marbles a swift squeeze. He had always been told to keep his guard up- and though he never got it at first, he now knew what his parents meant by that.
He then rested his eyes on the back of a girl, who was crouching a few paces in front of him, as if she were bending to pick the sunflowers spread across the land. She was fairly pretty, with her wavy hair tied in long pigtails at each side of the head, decorated by thin trails of yellow ribbons matching the colors of the fields around her. She was wearing a decent, floral dress, and she seemed nice enough. Shizuka then decided it best to say something, at that.
“Hello.” He spoke in the same nonchalant baritone (quite deep for his age).
The girl turned to look up at him, and her eyes were marvelous orbs with sunflowers reflected in them, although Shizuka wasn’t really sure why her eyes did even if she was looking at him. She had a sweet smile upon her face, bright and friendly, and they opened to reveal a bottomless gap between rosy lips.
“Hello there,” she paused a bit; “Do I know you?”
“No. I’m Shizuka Doumeki. I was wondering if you know Kimihiro, by any chance. He lives next door.”
The girl’s eyes brightened, and the flowers within them bristled in what seemed to be excitement. “Of course I do! He’s really nice. Have you two met before?”
“Just a day ago, yeah.” He replied truthfully.
She stood up so abruptly Shizuka had not even perceived it- but as he finally did, she was peering into his face, a bouquet of sunflowers in her hand.
“Then why do you seem to be…” she tilted her head, “Very good friends?”
Shizuka blinked, then shrugged. “Dunno.”
She let out a small giggle, gently putting her mouth behind her hand as she did so- and the wind rustled, and the lights grew brighter. Shizuka couldn’t help being mesmerized.
“My name is Himawari.” Then she extended out a hand to him.
He looked at her hand hesitantly. “And Kimihiro?”
“We’ll see him soon.”
He took her hand, then, and all around the rained the countless brightly-colored petals of the sun- until all there was…was darkness.
-
While Shizuka was having his adventures, Kimihiro was having his own, too.
He had looked in every single cupboard in the kitchen and had found it all empty. The water in the faucet wasn’t working well either, because all it did was spew out mud and red, irony stuff (which was vaguely familiar; like that time he had gotten a cut, and the red stuff had been there, too), which wasn’t very nice to fathom drinking, much less doing so.
But he was getting hungry. The spaghetti the other night had probably long digested, and the terrors he had experience made him thirsty. Worst of all, he needed to wee. But then he didn’t like going to the bathroom. It was terrible in there.
The longer he waited, though, the more he wanted to wee. It was the most turbulent of his troubles right now- deeply speaking- because at any time he could wet himself and that would be very, very, VERY uncomfortable.
He tried to find ways to survive and to amuse himself.
He went through all the rooms (except the bathroom) and peeked at all the cabinets and drawers he never could have looked into when his parents were present. He found nothing more than a bunch of papers with numbers on them, and Kimihiro could not possible understand what was so important about them. He found his father’s stash of pens and immediately started doodling on the papers set before him, being extra careful with putting wings and stars on the letters in big print, “Phone Bill”.
He found his mother’s cabinet of ornaments and played with them, although immediately giving up when one of the santa dolls suddenly turned headless. He found the photo albums of his parents when they were young, and as soon as his eyes fell upon the familiar faces of his parents, the wide cerulean orbs swelled with tears.
He left the room in its state of disarray, wiping his eyes with his free arm. He passed by the wall clock his mother had placed beside the refrigerator and did his best to understand- the long hand was pointing at the number four, and the smaller one was at the number two. The thinnest arm was still ticking around the surface of the clock.
Kimihiro could not read time, but he knew what the hands meant. They meant that it was getting late- or too early, he wasn’t really sure.
With a bit of effort, he opened the refrigerator door open and found it empty. The only thing within it was coldness, and it was cold enough. He pushed the door closed again and waddled towards the main entrance of his apartment, contemplating whether to leave the safety of his home once more, or to stay and die of hunger, thirst, and bladder problems.
He decided it best to the first alternative instead, because the second sounded rather messy. However, it did not mean he was entirely ready to leave the place once more. He needed weapons, like the kinds he once saw wielded by grown-ups in action movies he wasn’t allowed to watch. He wondered if his parents had a sort of secret cabinet where they kept all those cool-looking things that went ‘bang’, and thought that maybe they didn’t. After all, the only weapons he had seen his parents brandish were the broomstick (which was far too tall for him to handle) and the rolling pin (which was too heavy to carry). But then again, those kinds of weapons were used against a singular rat. He doubted it would do him any good, even if he were to wield either of them.
Before he could decide about the weapons at all, the alarm that got off in his head whenever he had to go wee was ringing non-stop. He knew he had to go. If he kept it in any longer, none of his parents would ever be present to help him clean up. He ran full speed towards the bathroom door, only halting to a slow tempo once he got there, hesitant. The bathroom looked normal, and his potty was where it should be. With a sort of sigh, he then prepared to relieve himself, unaware of the lurking presence within the room.
-
Shizuka opened his eyes to see a singular table set before him, with chairs a bit too high for him to get onto with any ease. The room looked nice and sweet, well-decorated and well-ornamented, like being torn from a page of a fairytale book. The place smelled of cinnamons and apples, and for each seat on the table was a cup of tea, warm and ready, including his. At the middle of the tea cups was a plate stacked high with cookies, and a bunch of other tiny jars filled with sugar cubes and milk. As the sensations entered his flow of thought, Shizuka realized just how hungry he was, and quickly helped himself to some cookies.
The girl named Himawari was standing beside him, smiling silently. She made no protest as Shizuka dumped more sugar into his tea, nor did she say anything as he dumped cookies into the small jar of milk (which usually got him a reproving look from his parents). He chewed noisily, tasting each and every crunch the cookie in his mouth went as he ate. There was no other movement in the room.
It was only when he finished that Himawari spoke.
“So, Shizuka-kun, are you full now?”
Shizuka gave a heart-felt burp, and said nonchalantly: “Hai.”
Something had caught the girl’s eye, then, and silenced followed. Shizuka noticed the sudden change of mood- the bright and happy bringing turning to something fearful- and he glanced at Himawari. She was staring at the pocket where he had placed the bag of marbles, his weapons, as if she were going to get killed for even looking at them. Shizuka thought it rather weird for a kid to fear marbles, so he took them out of his pocket and dumped a handful onto his hand before offering them to her. “Would you like to play?” He asked.
Himawari took a step back to avoid any of his fingers touching her skin, and she shook her head no as the flowers in her eyes started to quiver. Shizuka could see the fear clearly now, and understood why.
She wasn’t human.
Thinking it best to take over the situation at hand, he decided to probe her with the marbles to get information of Kimihiro’s whereabouts. He knew it was practically mean, and risky, but he felt hurried, for some reason. Something was wrong and he could feel it.
“Where’s Kimihiro?” He prompted, shaking the marbles in his hand, and they clinked softly as if teasing.
The flower girl gave a small yelp; “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” She looked serious about it.
Shizuka frowned. “And I would speak up if I were you.”
Quite suddenly, Himawari’s hair was growing longer than it should be, twirling and writhing like thousands of snakes upon the marble floor. Shizuka was only lucky to be up on the chair, but the distance wasn’t much. The yellow ribbons that decorated the little girl’s hair grew wide and big and sharp, like lethal petals of a sunflower. From the girl’s overflowing mane sprouted more of such deadly plants- one by one opening up wide, with sun-like heads turning inward and becoming rather hollow. Shizuka could see, from the height he was in, how sharp the rows of tiny teeth decorated the monster flowers’ inner mouths.
Even Himawari herself wasn’t as sweet and accommodating any more. Her eyes were blindingly multicolored, brimming with hue. Her mouth, agape, was as dangerous as her plant minions’ were.
Shizuka then quickly climbed the table, carefully gaining leverage and aim to be able to launch an attack with his marbles. He knew he could not afford to waste even one- but he wasn’t sure how many he should limit himself to. The whole room was being entangled by the strands of hair resembling thick roots of plants, blocking out any sign of the serenity the place once had. A handful of marbles in one hand, he used the other to take another cookie from the plate a few inches from him, and chewed on it deliberately. Kimihiro could wait. Right now he needed to survive if he’s willing to save anyone special to him. Taking another cookie and this time stuffing it immediately into his mouth, he got ready to flick the first few marbles he had, and prayed that as soon as this was over, there would be a plate of fresh cookie oats instead of chocolate chips waiting for him back home.
[End of Chapter 4.]