Always By Your Side (Christmas fic)
Kira Hiroto made a habit of sneaking into Earth the twenty-fifth day of the twelfth month to visit his living family. Heaven had too many rules, and it was boring as hell. Setting foot at the entrance of the large Japanese-style house, he announced his entrance as he invited himself in.
Hiroto peeked inside the guest room, a vast area where his father usually sipped tea as he gazed at the yard. Hyoudo-san used to tell him and sister to not enter when his father was there by himself. The first time Hiroto disobeyed was after taking this form, and he looked around awkwardly as he caught his father's relaxed figure smiling at the kuchibeni koi fish. He wasn't a cold man as Hiroto used to believe, imparting his wisdom and subtle gestures was his way of showing affection. Nevertheless, he loved him all the same.
The tatami still seemed fresh, giving off a vibrant, healthy green. After the remodeling to change a few rotten logs, nothing much had changed from his last visit.
"He's not here," Hiroto said as he stood in the middle of the vacant room. The irori was clean and the shogi was closed. So neither his father or siste had been here the whole day.
Hiroto then went to the kitchen, finding it also deserted. He frowned. After investigating the cupboards and fridge, he concluded his family hadn't suffered a tragedy and sighed, both in relief and frustration. That didn't answer his main question of their whereabouts.
If Hyoudo-san, the servant who has taken care of him as his sister for years, wasn't around, his father must have dismissed her for the day. She was well past her prime, but she rarely took a day off sick after his mother's passing.
Hiroto threw himself on the kitchen floor, slumping against the bottom cupboards. "So they went out for dinner, huh?"
He walked back to the previous room, eyes falling on a small Shinto shrine hanging from the wall. He looked away, shaking his head as his conscious was about to touch the events of the accident. It was long over. He had redeemed himself. Mellowed down. He shouldn't be thinking about those things in Christmas. Or ever.
Knowing his family was okay, Hiroto went to the outer corridor when his eyes caught a framed picture on top of the furniture.
"Huh? This wasn't here." Hiroto approached the frame, standing on his tiptoes to peer in.
There was a group picture of children between four and ten with happy grins and beaming faces surrounding his smiling father, looking at the camera's direction.
Hiroto's eyes set on the letters on the top left before he bolted out of the house, pulling the address out of his vague memories with a bitter expression. His sister had mentioned that name, though he hadn't paid much attention. He wasn't interested in philanthropy.
The building's name was Ohisama En.
He crashed into the orphanage from the ceiling, past wood and bricks--being weightless and transparent had its perks--and stopped short when he almost crashed against the floor.
Hiroto glared around the room, his image giving off a bleak light. He forfeited kicking away the scattered toys, crayons, and drawings, evidence of those children's happiness and carefree lives, and trotted aimlessly before reacting to the laughter coming from a nearby room.
Dashing through bedrooms and classrooms, his feet came to a halt after he passed through a wall and a blinding light stroke him.
The room was as big as the dining hall in his house. A long wood table was spread across its length as delicious-looking sweets and plates were set. It was all so bright. Hiroto felt the warmth the space emanated, contrasting the calm ambiance of his house.
The scene heart-wrenching. The energy. The cheers. The laughter. The worse was the sight of his father and sister squished between small children. Children he didn't know. . . no, that wasn't right. He recognized a few from the picture: blue-haired girl, a tall, scrawny boy, and a boy with apparent non-existent eyes.
It was something he couldn't take part in, only gaze from afar.
Hiroto dashed from cursed place. After a few minutes, he placed a hand on a wall, the other on his stomach to hold back the strange feeling that twisted and turned in his adbomen. But Hiroto was unable to endure it, he cried out. At the injustice. The sadness. The loneliness. Humans could move on, but ghost couldn't. He was stuck in this ever-lasting form.
His father had replaced him. He had forgotten about his son and gave his love to other children.
Hiroto wailed. Normally, his pride wouldn't allow being comforted, but being in a state where hs existence was dubious made him wish someone, anyone, noticed him.
Of course that wouldn't happen. He was dead.
"Hiroto! Hiroto!"
Hiroto gasped and turned towards the voice, cleaning his face as he stood straight with a failure of a frown.
His sister, taller and prettier than the last time he saw her, entered the park as she yelled Hiroto's name.
"Hiro-" Hiroto reached out to her, a gleam of hope shining in his eyes as his call was answered, his hand passing through her clothes.
His sister walked by without giving him a glance, entering deeper into the park.
"Ha...hahaha..." Hiroto chuckled dryly, his face twisting into a grin, rejecting the betrayal he had suffered. He clenched his chest where his heart should be as if it would stop the pain, cleaning the tears in a effort to look strong. It didn't hurt, he chanted. He had too much hope. This ought to happen.
But who was she calling out then?
After Hiroto calmed down, he stalked his sister a few feet behind. He didn't have to hide. And dead or alive he would have done the same. He could do whatever he wanted and no one would notice.
"Ah, there you are, Hiroto." His sister bent beside a tiny red-head on a swing, his back facing Hirot. He circled around the two, witnessing the boy's face illuminated by a street lamp.
His mind instantly froze. The boy's features bore a striking resemblance his own.
He had really been replaced.
"Hiroto, what's wrong?" his sister asked.
Hiroto's mouth opened slightly, his lips quivering.
Please stop.
The boy looked up. Downcast, glassy eyes twinkled under the light. The eyes of an innocent child.
"Let's go back." His sister smiled tenderly, showing her pale hand.
That's my name.
Before he knew it, his hand was looming over the boy's head, a dark power spreading through his body. It felt good, and his pain had gone away. All he had to do was push him to the ground, and hope he hit his head. It served him right. He wasn't good enough of a replacement. A boy that weak, that sad, wasn't fitting to bear his name.
Say, hadn't Heaven placed a rule in that prohibited visiting living family members? He vaguely understood why.
The faint light around Hiroto's body started dulling, his heart corrupting with the desire of power to destroy. He instinctively knew his holiness and right to return to Heaven would be lost if he went through this. But he didn't care.
"You are different from him."
Hiroto's hand stopped short.
His sister gazed at the boy's direction, her eyes gazing far away.
The boy looked up and tilted his head.
His sister chuckled, shaking her head as if dispelling her thoughts. "Mn, it's nothing. I'm sure there will be a day where I can accept you as my brother."
The boy nodded obediently, walking away hand in hand with his sister.
Hiroto exhaled, the corrupting desire melting away along it, and escorted the two back to the orphanage.
The boy walked timidly to the others, and Hiroto stood beside his sister, his head downcast. He might not like the boy that resembled him and stole his name, but he had calmed down enough to realize that building was the boy's home. He passed a hand through his face as he groaned.
"Dad misses you, you know?"
Hiroto jumped, his head snapping to his sister's direction.
She seemed to be talking to herself, looking at the kids with a strange smile.
He exhaled, stealing a glance from his father. He was handing out presents with other volunteers.
"He couldn't stand your loss. Not after Mom's." His sister looked down, exhaling wistfully. "I'm glad he seems to be getting better." She smiled, then walked to the crowd.
Hiroto observed as they ate dinner, exchanged gifts, and the kids left to their rooms one by one, keeping a firm look on his father for a sign that confirmed his sister's words.
He followed his father as he left the room without a word. The old man was slow, his face grim as he walked to the courtyard.
Snowflakes started drifting and swirling until touching the floor. Hiroto lifted his hand, the snowflakes passing through it. He couldn't feel heat nor warmth, all he had was his memories. He was made of memories.
His father sighed, the dignity and cheer he exuded a few minutes ago were gone without a trace. He looked senile, fragile. Hiroto looked away, unable to bear the pitiful sight of the man he was secretly seeking acknowledgment from. The Kira's had too much pride, and it was strange to show vulnerability to each other.
"My son, why did you leave us?"
Hiroto clenched his teeth, tears prickling in his eyes.
"I wish I--"
"Not even looking at that boy's face has helped to ease the fissure in my heart. Not even bestowing him your name has helped at all!" The man he had once respected fell to his knees, weeping loudly like a child.
Moments ago, he might have rejoiced to hear that boy was in reality an imitation to his father. Hiroto could only muster pity for his old man and that boy who will grow up to become an ideal, not knowing the freedom of being himself.
The boy wasn't a replacement because his family had moved on, but because they couldn't bear the loss.
Hiroto lowered beside his father, snaking an arm behind the man's back, aware of the futility of his actions.
Even so, it's better than nothing. Even if my words won't reach you, it's better than keep them locked in my heart.
"I'll always be by your side, Father. Now and forever."