The Disconsolate Maiden

Chapter Twenty-One

"She's sleeping right now, but I'm sure she'll come to her senses again in a few minutes. Just give her some time," a nurse advised Homura and her father as she led them to where her mother had been placed. "She's very weak."

"I understand," Mr. Kanojo said in the kind of voice Homura hadn't heard in forever. It was the kind of voice that was deep, believing, and somewhat gentle.

"The last time I heard that voice..." Homura thought to herself, flashes of a particular day coming to her mind. Her sister's smile, her laugh, and her entire existence seemed to flash before Homura's eyes in an instant.

Stopping in her tracks, Homura quickly wiped under her eyes, not wanting to think of the past. After all, the past couldn't be brought back. Not ever.

"What's wrong with you?" her father quickly snapped, jerking around to glare at his daughter once again. "Why did I even offer to bring you here?! You're not the least bit thankful for all that I've done for you today!"

Homura's eyes widened in fear, her legs beginning to tremble. Oh, how she despised people being livid with her! She only wanted peace and happiness.

Homura bowed, apologizing to her father several times in a row.

In silence the two walked together, Homura a few steps behind her father, just to be safe.

The nurse glanced back at the two, grimacing a little.

"Even she knows my father hates me. He makes it so obvious...that he would have rather had not had me in the world...the unwanted child. At this point, I don't remember who was older...perhaps it was...her," Homura thought to herself, her heart aching.

"Here she is," the nurse said calmly, pushing open a door, motioning them into the small hospital room. "Try your best not to disturb her right now."

Mr. Kanojo dipped his head a little, thanking the nurse before the two entered the room quietly.

"Mother..." Homura whispered, immediate pulling up a small chair to her mother's bedside. Taking the woman's slightly warm hand in hers, Homura held it close her heart, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I know I shouldn't cry...mother will be just fine," Homura reassured herself silently. "I know I shouldn't cry...this is normal for her and her weak body..."

"What's your deal?" her father spat, sitting in a much softer chair in the corner of the room, grabbing a magazine off of the table beside it. "You're too dramatic. Get over yourself."

"You don't love her anymore, do you..." Homura thought to herself, looking up, staring lovingly, yet somewhat bitterly at her mother's soft, gentle face. "She deserved better than you. She wanted everyone to be happy. She didn't want to force anything. No...she wants...wants...she's right here, alive. What's wrong with me...why do I feel..."

Homura let go of her mother's hand, gently resting it on her bed in a comfortable position.

"Have you eaten?" Homura's father asked, turning a page in his magazine. "Is that why you're putting yourself? You haven't had food?"

"Sorry..." Homura apologized, completely skipping over her father's question on accident.

"I asked you a question," her father snapped, turning to another page is magazine irritatedly. "You should answer, or I'll make you answer. You don't want me to do that, do you?"

"No sir," Homura said with a slight sigh. "I haven't eaten breakfast, I was rushing to get here."

"You don't care though, so I don't see why you're even here. If you gave a rip about your mother, I would have thought you would have stayed home instead of going to see those idiots," her father snapped.

"Mother told me...I was to go see her parents," Homura said, her voice trembling. "I had no intentions of..."

"I don't care," Mr. Kanojo snapped again.

Suddenly, Mrs. Kanojo began to move around a little, awakening from her long rest.

"Mother!" Homura exclaimed, trying her vey best to not throw her arms around her mother, hugging her ever so tightly.

"I don't feel good..." Mrs. Kanojo groaned quietly, forcing a warm smile on her face. "But I'm glad you are here, Homura. Your presence is all the medicine I'll ever need."

Homura bowed her head, tears swimming in her eyes.

"Homura, the doctor told me something last year," Mrs. Kanojo said softly, grabbing her daughter's hand. "but I was afraid to tell anyone. I didn't want anyone to worry about me. I'm sure you've known this would be coming though."

"What's the matter?" Homura asked, her hands beginning to tremble. Mrs. Kanojo squeezed her daughter's hands, smiling.

"Next week doesn't exist," Mrs. Kanojo said with a sad smile.

"But next week is bound to come!" Homura exclaimed worriedly.

"It is not a given, that every person in the world is allowed to see as many sunrises as the other has," Mrs. Kanojo said softly.

"But we'll see many again together, won't we?" Homura asked desperately, praying what her mother was about to say, wasn't what she had suspected.

A single tear escaped from Homura's soft, brown eyes, running down her cheek.

"When a child is born, it is like the dawn of a new day. All throughout their life, it is the sunrise. Things will go wrong, over time, but it is still a sunrise. I'm at the sunset, Homura," Mrs. Kanojo said, her forced smile beginning to fall apart. "I won't get to see another sunrise with you. I'm going to die."