Strawberry Fields Forever After (Takumi's Dead! A Nana FanFiction)

Chapter 1

The clock on the nightstand blinked 2:43 a.m., its red numbers glaring into the dark room. Hachi lay still beneath the sheets, her body tired but her mind far too awake, tangled in the time difference between Tokyo and London. It was always like this. The hours she spent waiting for Takumi to call stretched on endlessly, a purgatory of silence. Tonight was no different. He hadn't called, of course. He never did when he said he would.

She had tried to sleep earlier, but her thoughts kept circling back to their children—Satsuki, tucked safely in bed a few doors down, and Ren, their little boy, across oceans in another country. Ren was sick again, and the weight of not knowing how he was gnawed at her. Takumi had promised to give her an update, but here she was, waiting. Always waiting.

Hachi sighed, her breath echoing in the silence of the room. She stared at the ceiling, tracing invisible patterns, her fingers restlessly clutching the phone she kept on the pillow beside her. She could feel it, the bitterness, crawling up her throat like bile, the resentment so thick it made her want to scream. This marriage had become a cage. A prison she willingly entered, years ago, for the sake of her children. For their future. For the image of a perfect family that had long since shattered.

Takumi. He was somewhere in London tonight, God knows where, doing God knows what—or who. The thought hit her, as it always did, a sharp dagger twisting in her gut. She had no illusions about her husband's fidelity. Whether it was another nameless woman or—worse—her, Reira, Hachi knew she was no longer the center of his world, if she had ever been. She should hate him for it. She wanted to. But she stayed, locked in the lie they had built together.

A buzz interrupted the stillness, the phone vibrating softly in her hand. For a moment, she considered not answering. Let him stew in the silence he so often gave her. Maybe he'd wonder, even for a second, what she was doing, who she was with. But she knew better. If she ignored the call, there'd be consequences. Takumi would never let it go. He might not care enough to call when he said he would, but the moment she didn't answer, it would become an issue.

She sighed and pressed the button. "Hello?"

But the voice on the other end wasn't Takumi's.

"Mrs. Ichinose?"

Her heart stopped, freezing in her chest. The voice was male, official. Too formal. Too cold.

"This is she," Hachi answered, her own voice a whisper, the dread already thick in her throat. She swallowed hard, her pulse quickening, her hand tightening around the phone. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

"I'm calling from London General," the man said, his voice careful. "There's been an accident."

The world tilted beneath her as the words settled into her ears, heavy and unshakable. "An accident?" she repeated, her mind refusing to process, to understand. "With—Takumi?"

There was a pause. "Yes, Mrs. Ichinose. I'm afraid your husband's been in a car accident. His vehicle collided with a lorry on the motorway. I... I'm so sorry, ma'am. He didn't make it."

The room seemed to collapse around her. Hachi sat up abruptly, her hands trembling as she gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. Didn't make it—the words repeated themselves in her mind, over and over, but they didn't make sense. Takumi was alive. He had to be. He couldn't just not be. He was supposed to call. To tell her about Ren. He couldn't just be gone.

"Mrs. Ichinose?"

The voice on the other end seemed distant now, like it was coming from another world. "I—I don't understand," Hachi stammered, her breath quickening, panic closing in like a vice around her chest. "Are you sure? There—there must be a mistake."

"I'm so sorry," the man said again, his voice filled with the weight of someone who had delivered this kind of news too many times. "There's no mistake. We've confirmed his identity. I know this must be overwhelming, but if you need anything, we have a counselor on staff who—"

"My son," Hachi interrupted, her voice barely a whisper, but sharp with fear. "Ren. Where is Ren?"

The man hesitated, and the silence that followed felt like an eternity, her heart nearly stopping until he spoke again. "Your son is safe, Mrs. Ichinose. He wasn't in the car with your husband. He's at your flat, with the staff. They're looking after him."

The knot in her chest loosened just enough for her to breathe, but it wasn't enough to shake the weight pressing down on her. Ren was safe, but Takumi was gone. And nothing would ever be the same.

"I'll take the first flight out," she said, her voice shaking as she stared into the darkness of her bedroom. The words felt foreign in her mouth, like they belonged to someone else. Someone who understood how to navigate this new reality.

"Again, I'm very sorry for your loss." the man responded softly.

Hachi didn't answer. She hung up the phone, the quiet beep of the call ending reverberating through the silence of the room. The silence she had once resented now felt suffocating, an endless echo in her ears.

She sat still, her mind blank and numb. Takumi. Dead. The word didn't feel real. It didn't belong in her life, in the mess they had made together. And yet, there it was. Final. Unyielding.

Her gaze drifted toward the window, where the faint glow of Tokyo's skyline illuminated the night, a stark contrast to the darkness inside her. In the morning, she would board a plane, leave this place, and face the life she had tried so hard to hold together, but now felt more fragile than ever.

Her hands shook as she finally set the phone down, pressing her palms against her face. Tears threatened to spill, but she held them back. There was no time for grief, no time for anger. Ren needed her. Satsuki needed her.

And Hachi, for the first time in years, realized she needed something too.