The doctor walked to the orphanage on a sunny friday morning. Just after he left his house he went to the small, green pond and collected a beautiful lotus flower. He placed the flower into a clear-plastic container and it now resides in his side pocket.
He skipped up the steps to the giant oak doors of the orphanage. The matron was waiting for him, and opened the door at his arrival. As he got up to her, she said "Chan is in his chamber practicing cello. He's been preparing for his concert in two days. I say he's fully prepared already, but he continues to practice. I told him that you were coming though, so he should be expecting you."
"Thank you matron. I shall head straight there then." He then went through the main lobby and down the hall towards the chamber.
The doctor could hear his beautiful cello playing. It flowed like an eel through the water, and it's tone was so rich it caused the doctor's heart to swell. When he reached Chan's door, he gently opened it, and without a creak he entered the room.
He saw Chan's jet-back hair over the top of the chair that he sat upon to practice cello. His whole upper body was swaying slowly to the music that he was playing, and the doctor could see his right arm move back and forth as he bowed each note.
The doctor stood there, engulfed in a net of his music. If the doctor tried to wriggle out of it, he would get entangled entirely and would be lost hoplessly. He knew this, and did not try to wriggle free and escape. He allowed the music to wrap all around him and encase his in it's amazing and breathtaking grip.
It suddently stopped, and the doctor found himself morally falling and reaching helplessly for the branch of music that was no longer there to support him. His moral fall was interrupted by a small "Yes?"
The doctor looked up from the dusty wood floor and saw Chan's brown eyes fixed gently upon his face. Those eyes were so similar to a pair of eyes he knew, and loved before.
"You know, your eyes remind me of someone who means a lot to me. " The doctor started.
This took Chan slightly aback. He batted his eyes, and glanced down at the car by the side of his chair. He placed his bow down onto the stand and picked up the little yellow object. He began rolling it along his leg.
Still looking down, he asked, "Who is this person, Doctor?"
The doctor parted his lips to say, but his voice was gone. A glob has risen to his throat, and his eyes began to fill with salt water. He walked over to the bed next to Chan's practice chair. The bed groaned as he sat down, mimicking the groaning the doctor was experiencing in his heart.
He removed his glasses and he brought his fingers to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. He placed his glasses beside him and slowly ran his hands over his face. He could fear all of the strain in his face.
Hidden from view for the moment, he let a tear go, then let no more. He released the strain, he allowed the muscled to relax, and he let the single tear run down his cheek as he drew his hands away from his face.
"Your eyes remind me of a pair of eyes belonging to a young man named Kiri. He's about your age, actually."
Chan noticed the tear, and didn't know what to say. There was a long train of silence.
"Would you like to meet him?" He asked Chan. The child simply looked up, and nodded. With those brilliant brown eyes of his.
