Bloom Again

CHAPTER 14

I love you.

Chesah's crying, Akina's sobbing, and Kitsu's looking at me disgusted.

"Ba. One, no one needs to hear how you kissed. Two, were you rich or something? Why do you remember in such great detail? That's kinda creepy."

Chesah laughs heartily, and the smile on her face is so like Eos', I have to look away.

"Kitsu, you remember the important things. I remember how I found out Mama was having you two, I remember the day you were born, I remember a lot of things."

Akina smiles, before making her way over, and snuggling into me. I stroke her back absent mindedly as I watch Kitsu bound up the treehouse ladder, and slowly make her way into the house. Memories flood my head, and I feel a pang of familiarity, the scene is so similar to when Eos first went into the house. Her auburn hair had shone in the noon day sun, and the gentle wind had caressed her hair, making it flow gently. Akina nuzzles her head further into me and I melodically tap a beat with my hands as her breath slowly evens out. Akina's fast asleep when Kitsu looks down at me in wonder.

"Ba! Come up!"

I gently slip my hand under Akina and move her body slowly off, as I proceed to climb up the steps I've climbed before. It's a different feeling as I do it without Eos, and I look down, half expecting to see her looking up at me. Instead, I'm met with Akina sleeping soundly with Eos stroking Akina's hair the way she would, gently massaging the scalp, lulling you to sleep. I look up, forcing the thoughts out of my head, and continue to climb the ladder up to Kitsu. I have to lower my head and crouch as I stand in the house, and Kitsu grins, before showing me a box.

"What's in it?"

"You can open it, if you want."

Kitsu looks at me, waiting for something to deny what I just said, but alas, I make no objection, and she carefully pries it open. The mahogany wood slowly creaks open, the joints haven't been oiled in years. Eos and I kept small things in the box, as a form of timekeeping. Kitsu's eyes widen as she takes in the treasures and oddities in the box.

Slowly, she asks, "can I take them out?"

I nod, and she meticulously takes the trinkets out, placing them on the ground. Soon enough, Polaroids, goofy photos, corsages for prom, the ribbon from our engagement, the strip of fabric from when Eos' pants tore climbing the ladder, are all laid upon the ground. Eos is suddenly here next to me, looking at the same Polaroids Kitsu is holding. She laughs at the goofy photo of us at the beach one year. Kitsu laughs synonymously and tears slowly begin to well in my eyes. Although she looks like her, Akina acts like her, and together, they are the two living things I have left of her.