[Bokurano] fic: Those Left Behind: Stop Whispering, Start Shouting
It's only the second day, yet I'm already late!
Title: Those Left Behind: Stop Whispering, Start Shouting
Day/Theme: Aug 17 stop whispering, start shouting
Series: Bokurano
Character/Pairing: Waku's parents
Rating: PG
Notes: for 31_days. Spoilers up to chapter 55.
Archive: LJ | ffnet
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"When all of us first met each other on that nature study, Waku was the loudest...he was also the one who stood out the most."
-----
A house without Takashi was a house that was far too silent. Takashi had been a loud and boisterous boy, entirely unlike his studious father, or so the boy had thought. He never knew that his father had been even more rambunctious when he was a young boy. Takashi's father had dreams of becoming a soccer pro, of conquering the world with his friend who was even more of a soccer maniac than him, but his dreams were dreams that faded with the passage of time, that couldn't win against practicality. Takashi had almost succumbed to the same mentality of monotony, but Zearth had reignited his passion only to extinguish it in the very next moment.
A house without Takashi was a house that was far too lifeless. His room remained the same, untouched, and entirely too organized. After Takashi left for the nature study, his mother cleaned his room for him, thinking he'd be right back to mess it up again. With the futon in the closet, his books in their rightful place, and his favorite soccer ball stashed away, there was nothing that hinted that Takashi had ever lived there. With Takashi's vibrancy gone, everything else paled in comparison.
Although the house was without Takashi, one after another, his friends came to the lifeless house to pay their respects, for Takashi had been a boy who was well loved by his friends. Each and every visit weighed heavily on Takashi's parents, but they yearned for every tidbit that could liven up the house. The girls came in groups, more often than not breaking down into a weeping mob once one of them couldn't hold back. Grief led to more grief. Tears led to more tears. Takashi's parents wondered if the crying were any better than the silence. They sat quietly, waiting for the children who loved their Takashi to work it out of their system. The boys came alone or in pairs. More than one boy had been waiting for Takashi to return to soccer. One boy had even broken down in front of them, claiming that he and Takashi had planned to go watch the next soccer game together. The tickets had been hard to acquire. Before that boy left, he shoved the tickets to Takashi's parents, hoping they could go in his stead.
Even those visits that tricked Takashi's parents into thinking that Takashi still lived on--how could he not when his friends remembered him so dearly and clearly?--gradually trickled into nothing. Suffocating silence enveloped them.
Then came the phone calls after the news came out.
Nonstop, day and night, the phone rang until it made no difference whether or not it rang. It sounded all the same to Takashi's parents. Takashi's father stopped going to work. He couldn't, not when he'd get ambushed. Their days of silence had ended, but the resulting noise was far from welcome. The noise was the kind that made them forget their son's liveliness.
In this house without Takashi, his parents almost lost hope. The withered plant outside the house was but a small indicator of the lackluster house. But then came the visit from the girl and the boy, the last two who were going through the same experience Takashi had gone through. Takashi's father gratefully shared stories about Takashi with them, pouring over photos and videos of Takashi. Takashi's mother eagerly pulled out the futons for them, relieved that the house would finally be lived in. The girl and the boy, so different from the previous visitors, solemnly shared Takashi's last moments with them.
Watching them leave was like watching Takashi leave all over again. Their peaceful expressions were a lie, their easy gait a deception.
Their visit reminded Takashi's parents that a house without Takashi was a house that was far too suffocating. Takashi's parents took the soccer tickets given to them and went to the game to escape the house. But escape from one prison only landed them in another.
Watching the players only made Takashi's father realize that he had rarely gone to games like these with Takashi. He had always been buried in work. Whenever he did have time, he never considered Takashi's desires and instead made Takashi go to baseball games with him. Watching the players only made Takashi's mother realize that she didn't know a thing about the soccer that Takashi loved so much. She hadn't even been able to enjoy it with him, and now she never would.
However, when Takashi's favorite team scored, both of his parents stood up and yelled at the top of their lungs with the other fans. None of those fans knew their grief, but they yelled because Takashi could no longer do so.
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the end
Title: Those Left Behind: Stop Whispering, Start Shouting
Day/Theme: Aug 17 stop whispering, start shouting
Series: Bokurano
Character/Pairing: Waku's parents
Rating: PG
Notes: for 31_days. Spoilers up to chapter 55.
Archive: LJ | ffnet
-----
"When all of us first met each other on that nature study, Waku was the loudest...he was also the one who stood out the most."
-----
A house without Takashi was a house that was far too silent. Takashi had been a loud and boisterous boy, entirely unlike his studious father, or so the boy had thought. He never knew that his father had been even more rambunctious when he was a young boy. Takashi's father had dreams of becoming a soccer pro, of conquering the world with his friend who was even more of a soccer maniac than him, but his dreams were dreams that faded with the passage of time, that couldn't win against practicality. Takashi had almost succumbed to the same mentality of monotony, but Zearth had reignited his passion only to extinguish it in the very next moment.
A house without Takashi was a house that was far too lifeless. His room remained the same, untouched, and entirely too organized. After Takashi left for the nature study, his mother cleaned his room for him, thinking he'd be right back to mess it up again. With the futon in the closet, his books in their rightful place, and his favorite soccer ball stashed away, there was nothing that hinted that Takashi had ever lived there. With Takashi's vibrancy gone, everything else paled in comparison.
Although the house was without Takashi, one after another, his friends came to the lifeless house to pay their respects, for Takashi had been a boy who was well loved by his friends. Each and every visit weighed heavily on Takashi's parents, but they yearned for every tidbit that could liven up the house. The girls came in groups, more often than not breaking down into a weeping mob once one of them couldn't hold back. Grief led to more grief. Tears led to more tears. Takashi's parents wondered if the crying were any better than the silence. They sat quietly, waiting for the children who loved their Takashi to work it out of their system. The boys came alone or in pairs. More than one boy had been waiting for Takashi to return to soccer. One boy had even broken down in front of them, claiming that he and Takashi had planned to go watch the next soccer game together. The tickets had been hard to acquire. Before that boy left, he shoved the tickets to Takashi's parents, hoping they could go in his stead.
Even those visits that tricked Takashi's parents into thinking that Takashi still lived on--how could he not when his friends remembered him so dearly and clearly?--gradually trickled into nothing. Suffocating silence enveloped them.
Then came the phone calls after the news came out.
Nonstop, day and night, the phone rang until it made no difference whether or not it rang. It sounded all the same to Takashi's parents. Takashi's father stopped going to work. He couldn't, not when he'd get ambushed. Their days of silence had ended, but the resulting noise was far from welcome. The noise was the kind that made them forget their son's liveliness.
In this house without Takashi, his parents almost lost hope. The withered plant outside the house was but a small indicator of the lackluster house. But then came the visit from the girl and the boy, the last two who were going through the same experience Takashi had gone through. Takashi's father gratefully shared stories about Takashi with them, pouring over photos and videos of Takashi. Takashi's mother eagerly pulled out the futons for them, relieved that the house would finally be lived in. The girl and the boy, so different from the previous visitors, solemnly shared Takashi's last moments with them.
Watching them leave was like watching Takashi leave all over again. Their peaceful expressions were a lie, their easy gait a deception.
Their visit reminded Takashi's parents that a house without Takashi was a house that was far too suffocating. Takashi's parents took the soccer tickets given to them and went to the game to escape the house. But escape from one prison only landed them in another.
Watching the players only made Takashi's father realize that he had rarely gone to games like these with Takashi. He had always been buried in work. Whenever he did have time, he never considered Takashi's desires and instead made Takashi go to baseball games with him. Watching the players only made Takashi's mother realize that she didn't know a thing about the soccer that Takashi loved so much. She hadn't even been able to enjoy it with him, and now she never would.
However, when Takashi's favorite team scored, both of his parents stood up and yelled at the top of their lungs with the other fans. None of those fans knew their grief, but they yelled because Takashi could no longer do so.
-----
the end