The Calm

Chapter 4: The Calm, Before The Unavoidable Storm

“Gorou, you’re working late again?” she said, a frown on her face. “You know, it’s almost his birthday right?”

“Yes yes, I know,” he said, carefully tucking and folding his tie to make it as neat as possible. He messed up halfway through, and had to take it off and refold it once again. “I’ll promise to be back before midnight.”

“You said that last time,” she said, her arms crossed. “Honestly Gorou, how long are you going to ignore him?”

“I’m not ignoring him,” he said, growling. He placed his detective’s hat on his head, grabbing his coat as he opened the door. “I have work to do, see you tonight.”

And with that, he left their little apartment complex. With his coat trailing behind him, the only thing she could see was the colour of his clothes from behind.

She slowly sat down on a nearby chair, clutching her sides. “Oh Gorou.”

Her husband, wasn’t the most attentive of men. Even when they were dating, when most boys would give their partners flowers, Gorou would give her a cold stare and lead her to an abandoned coal mine and investigate the surroundings.

Where normal men would buy their partners an engagement ring they had bought with money they saved up for months, Gorou would give her the ring of a deceased woman from one of his detective cases.

Where normal fathers would play catch with their sons, Gorou avoided his son like a plague.

There was no separating him from his work, she knew that. She knew him, and she knew that it was a part of him. There was no future in this world, that Gorou would ever give anything other than himself the light of day.

She knew that, and she had accepted that fact long ago.

But it seems her son hadn’t caught on yet.

“Mommy?” Speak of the devil, and it shall appear. Her son, barely five, walked into the living room, his pajamas loosely fitted on his small frame. “What happened?”

“Nothing, Hajime,” she said, standing up and heading to the kitchen. “Daddy and I were just having a nice talk.”

“I heard you yelling,” he said, seating himself down at the dinner table, placing his fists on it as he waited for his breakfast. “Are you fighting?”

“No, we’re not.” She began flipping the eggs, making sure that they didn’t burn. “Daddy was just saying that he had to work late today.”

“Work late?” he said, his head tilting to the side like a cat.

“Daddy’s got a lot of work on his plate,” she said, scooping the eggs and putting them on a plate. “And instead of work, this plate has a lot of eggs on it, eat up Hajime.”

The both of them sat in blissful silence, with the only sound made was the scraping of forks and spoons across plates.

She watched her son eat his eggs, helping him when he had trouble poking the hole in his juice box, and ruffling his hair when he finished his meal.

“Good job, Hajime,” she said, smiling. “Now, be a good boy at school will you?”

“Okay.”

“I’m getting real tired of your behaviour Gorou,” she yelled out. “It’s been the fourth time this week you’ve come home late.” She gripped the table so hard, it was a miracle that it hadn’t chipped from how hard she was gripping it. “And don’t you dare give me the same excuse.”

It was the middle of the night, one in the morning to be exact, and she was woken up by the sound of their apartment door opening. Hajime had a nightmare, and she, being the doting mother that she was, had allowed him to stay with her for the night.

“What is it tonight? The boss giving you shit? The cases not being interesting enough? Yosuke found another ramen place? What the hell Gorou?” She yelled, from the deepest corners of her lungs, for the world to hear.

Gorou, for what he’s worth, didn’t say anything. He had his hands around his detective’s hat, clutching it with all his strength. From what she could see in the dim light around them, there were dark stains on his coat, but that wasn’t the thing she focused on.

Tears, tears dropped from his eyes. They stained his blood-marred cheeks with tears that fell towards the ground. Gorou was shaking, crying, it seems.

“I-I don’t know what to even say.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have had to say anything. Not to you, not to Hajime, not even to myself.”

“It’s been like this, ever since you first married me,” she said, looking up at Gorou with tears in her own eyes. She wiped them away, before anyone could see. “You love your work more than you love your wife.”

And that was the truth.

Bitter?

Sad?

But it was the truth.

There was no changing the truth, she just had to deal with it.

And she had, she dealt with it every day when Gorou would come late, blood staining his coat. She had dealt with it by crying by herself in the bathroom whenever Hajime went to school, too afraid for him to find out what his mother was going through.

Hajime, she didn’t even know how he was feeling about all of this. The poor boy had spent a significant amount of his childhood fatherless, with only a passing glance at night during the days there were no cases for Gorou to solve.

And even then, Gorou loved his cigarettes more than his own son.

It was sad.

It was painful.

But it was the truth.

She just hoped Hajime could deal with it the same way she had.

“Mommy?” A creaking of the door was heard, and Hajime slowly wobbled his way to the living room. His small face looked up to see the faces of both his mother and father, bawling their eyes out.

He held his favourite plush animal in his right fist, but dropped it once he saw the both of them.

“Hajime!” she exclaimed, rushing towards him. “Go back to bed sweetie, I’ll be with you shortly.”

She tried picking up Hajime, but he just wouldn’t budge. He was still staring at the two of them, his eyes wide and aware. “Are you two fighting?”

“No no, we’re not,” she said, succeeding in picking him up. “Now, go to bed.”

“Is daddy back from work?” he asked.

Gorou looked at the ground, holding his hat with a fierce grip. He didn’t reply, instead, nodding silently.

“Can he read me a bedtime story?” Hajime asked.

“Sure,” Gorou finally spoke, breaking the silence that had appeared earlier. “I’ll read you a story.” The two of them left the living room, and she could feel a warm feeling in her chest.

She thanked Gorou silently in her heart, wiping away the tears that had made themselves home in her eyes with her sleeve.

She could hear Gorou’s voice read to Hajime in the distance, it seems as if he decided to read him some children’s classics.

It was good, it was an improvement to say the least.

But, these happy times, weren’t going to last forever.

She coughed, using the palm of her hand to stop the cough from getting out. As she went to wash her hands, she saw…..

Blood, fresh blood. Red, glistening, shining, blood

---

“Did you win, sweetie?” she asked, coughing slightly, holding out her hand to hold her son’s cheek.

“First place, like you said,” Hajime said, showing her a large golden trophy, wrapped in a red ribbon, and with his name written in the middle. “I won it for you.”

“You’re a g-good son,” she stuttered, the middle of her words being interrupted with another cough. She grabbed a nearby napkin, and coughed into it, expelling more than she was used to amount of blood. “I’m so proud of you.”

She tried to ruffle his fluffy hair, but she struggled to extend out of the reach of the hospital bed. The drip attached to her arm prevented her from reaching her son, and she didn’t like that one bit.

“I’ll put it besides your bed,” he said, placing it right besides her. “Right besides, the other trophies.”

She beamed at him, giving him a thumbs up. “Where’s Gorou?”

“Out,” Hajime said, taking a seat in front of her. He had a single rose in his hands, and he gave it to her. “On a case.”

A chuckle left her mouth. “That Gorou, even when his wife’s in the hospital he still prioritizes his cases over me.” That man never changed over the years, not one bit.

Where she had been less and less active, and not even permitted to leave her hospital bed, Gorou had been up and about, solving case after case as if his life depended on it.

It worried her, and it appears as if it worried her son as well. Hajime, well, he wasn’t taking it all too well, despite what he claimed.

Her son, her pride and joy, was becoming more and more like his father. Bitter, angry, and most of all, full of personal pride.

“How was your day?” She asked him, opening the television in front of her and changing to a channel that aired late in the evening. “Tell me all about this tournament, every single detail.”

“Well.” Hajime scratched the back of his neck. “It was sort of easy. I beat everyone without even trying all that much.”

She beamed up at him. “That’s my boy,” she said, ruffling his hair once again, but this time she was more closer to him. “And did you meet any friends?”

“No,” Hajime said. “I’m not that much of a….people’s person, mom.”

“Really?” She feigned surprise. “I thought any son of mine would be a ladykiller? Didn’t you like writing in that diary of yours about having four girlfriends?”

Hajime blushed, hiding his face behind his hands. “Geez mom, you didn’t have to mention that.”

“Why? You embarrassed?” she said.

“Perhaps,” he said.

She smiled brightly, more brightly than she had in a few months being stuck in this hellhole. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen your happy face, Hajime.”

Moving her body slowly towards the table besides her, she gently touched the trophy he had brought earlier. It was really well-made, the longer she looked at it.

“You know, you don’t have to keep winning those tournaments Hajime. Just you visiting me every day gives me enough energy to keep living on,” she said. “Seeing as Gorou is busy as he’s always been, you don’t have to do what you do, especially as frequently as you do.”

She touched her son’s cheek, stroking it with the love and care a parent would. “Just being here, makes me so happy.”

“I do it for you,” Hajime said, holding her hand in his. “To make you happy. To make you smile. I-I…I see you cry, when he doesn’t visit you. So, I’ll keep winning, to make you the happiest you can be.”

“Anyone would be blessed to have you as a friend,” she said, crying. Her hospital gown was damp with tears, and she let them fall freely without her wiping them away. “Do you know why?”

“Is it because I’m your son?”

“Looks like I didn’t need to answer that question after all.” She smirked. “Now, go away. I need my beauty sleep.”

“I love you mom,” Hajime said, giving her a hug. He was careful enough not to mess with the tubes placed on her body, maneuvering his body in such a way that would cause her the least amount of pain. “I’ll come visit tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after after that.”

“Don’t forget the day after after after that!” she called out, laughing.

Unfortunately for her, that day never came.

It never would’ve come.

She should’ve expected this.

Her life, wasn’t an easy one. Especially now with her dying of a disease, there was no way in hell she had an easy life.

And this time around, she couldn’t get used to it.

There was no ‘it’ to begin with. It was something that she had no hope of countering, regardless of what all of the doctors said to her daily, there was no hope of her surviving to live another day.

And….she was okay with that.

As long as it was her, and not her son or her husband.

She could die, if it meant the two of them could finally reconcile.

“Who am I kidding?” she laughed to herself. “Gorou’s too much of an idiot.”

Gorou was probably going to push Hajime even further away from himself, and the both of them were going to go their separate ways.

And she was fine with that.

Whatever made them happy.

Whatever made her happy.

If **** was just the beginning of another story, this time around, it wasn’t hers

---

It was….raining, that day.

The skies were dark, devoid of any sources of light and warmth.

Everything….was empty.

Devoid, of something.

Be it light.

Be it sound.

Be it any kind of observable thing in the wide universe.

There was something missing.

His mother.

They were in a car, who’s it was, he didn’t know. He didn’t pay attention, he didn’t feel like paying attention.

To the car, to the surroundings, to anything.

He stared at nothing, and he received nothing to stare at.

Around him, the rain poured as heavily as it did a few minutes ago. The sounds of rain droplets obscuring any other sound that may have made themselves known.

It was obvious that the world was telling him something, or, in this case, telling him to feel something.

Was it sadness? Or was it despair?

What was supposed to be the emotion that he felt during this whole ordeal.

Did God want him to feel sad at what happened? Angry perhaps? Thinking of ways to avenge her ****?

He wasn’t that dumb.

There was no way to get her back, no matter how hard he tried.

His younger self was an idiot.

An idiot who thought that writing a wish in a notebook would make it come true.

He was an idiot.

A fucking idiot.

“We’re here,” someone, the identity of whom, he didn’t care. “Hajime, I have to tell you something.”

Hajime looked up from where he was blankly staring at, to the face of his father.

“This isn’t something easy to say, but….I want you to move out.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll give you money, and everything you need. I just….I can’t take care of you right now.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve already set up an apartment for you, it’s a few miles away from here. Pack up your stuff, I’ll drive you there.”

“Okay,” he said.

And there was that, or, what he thought was the end of their little conversation.

But, as always in life, it brought unexpected surprises.

“I’m sorry, Hajime,” his father said, collapsing to his knees, prostrating himself on the floor right in front of him. He could hear the soft sound of sobbing below him, and he stared blankly at the hollow shell of his father. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” His voice was harsher than he thought, but he couldn’t take it back. There were no redoes in life, and he knew that. “You can’t apologize for everything that you did.”

“I know,” his father said, his voice a bit louder than a whistle. “I…know.”

“I’m leaving,” he said, moving past his father. “I have my own money, I’ll buy myself an apartment. Don’t come to me, don’t you ever come near me again.”

“Okay,” his father said, looking at Hajime in the eyes.

“Goodbye, Gorou,” he said, slamming the door, his backpack slung over his shoulder.

And with that, with the silence collapsing around him, he left. Never to return again.

To live a life of solitude.

To live a life in which he would be going against his mother’s wishes.

The wishes she had believed in, until her ****.

He wanted to cry.

To apologize.

To do something.

Anything.

But he couldn’t.

There was nothing he could do.

Was this what the emotion they called sadness?

If so, why was he not crying?

Why wasn’t he crying for his mother?

His dead mother.

“I’m sorry,” he said to himself.

He said it to no one, no one expect for him. There was no way anyone could’ve heard it other than himself.

But, he felt something.

Maybe it was a tug of the heart, or a warm feeling entering his body.

But he could feel his mother watching over him.

It was a faint feeling, but a feeling nonetheless.

“I’m sorry,” he said to his mother.

“And I forgive you.” He could hear his mother say to him.

There was no describing the effects of the words she had said, but, it was enough.

Enough for him to keep pushing on.

For her sake.

For his sake.

He would fulfil her wishes, even if he'd die in the process.

And that was the last time he ever spoke to his mother. But he wouldn’t have had it any other way.