The Disconsolate Maiden

Chapter Forty

"I wonder what it'll be like..." Homura thought to herself after she had gotten off of the train. The train had been so jammed full of people, everyone staring down on their phones, there was no way anyone could have realized who she was. "I haven't been home in ten years...ten years just feels wrong...have I really been wanting to die for so long...?"

Homura walked down the familiar streets, surprised she still recognized literally everything. It was life hadn't moved on without her. This comforted the depressed girl.

A few street lamps began to flicker on, as the soft hues of pink and orange began to leave the sky. The burning sun hid behind a cloud for quite some time, too.

"I wonder how Naomi is doing," Homura thought to herself, smiling a little as she remembered seeing her old 'friend' everywhere on things in stores. "Totoko too. I wonder if she ever became an idol..."

Homura stopped walking as she saw a boy dressed in yellow, walk down the street with an identical boy, only he was dressed in purple, yet it was the exact same outfit.

The boy who was wearing a purple hoodie seemed to be crying a little as the boy in yellow hugged him tightly.

"Good brothers," Homura smiled a little, turning down the street that led to her house. She found that she was able to hold her head a bit higher the more she walked. Nobody noticed her, so long as she made no direct eye contact.

Then, just as if she was five years old again, Homura stopped in front of her old house, bowing a little when she saw the word, "Kanojo" painted on the mailbox. Though the strokes of paint were very faded, those were just a few of the remaining marks her mother had left in the world.

Hands trembling, Homura pulled her keys out of her purse, still owning one to this house.

She shoved the key inside the weathered, rusted lock to the door, twisting the key as she awaited for the satisfying "click". Pushing open the door, a rush of cool air met her face.

"The air is on...?" Homura thought to herself, completely forgetting a certain phone call she had made the day she moved.

There wasn't a single inch of dust on anything in the house, but it was exactly how she had left it years ago.

"I'm home...Mother," Homura called out, dropping her purse on the floor as she ran into the living room and stared at the piano. Just as everything else, the piano was clean, without a single speck of dust on it. Yet, the photo that had broken the night her father had left, was now in a brand new frame, but still on its normal spot atop the piano.

"Yuka...Mother...and Father..." Homura whispered, sitting down on the piano bench as she grabbed the photo, tears already running down her cheeks. "You're all gone now..."

Feeling worse than she expect she would, Homura walked back into the kitchen, noticed a small envelope that was left on the breakfast table.

"Who is this...?" Homura said as she picked up the envelope, turning it over. She squinted her eyes, struggling to read the messy writing on the outside of the envelop. "From...Ka...nola..? Kanola?"

Homura ripped open the note out of curiosity.

"Dear Miss Homura Kanojo,
Recently, your friend Jyushimatsu has been doing lots of searching for you. He told me you had called him, wanting him to give someone he trusted a copy of your key to this house. Since I was the only person he knew who had time for things such as this, I was given the key. I've been keeping up with your house for the past year now. When he asked me to care for this lovely home, I was tickled to death. I've come in every day since you left. I replaced the broken family photo on the piano, as well. I tend to clean once a week, and make sure the faucets and everything still work. Ah, I truly adore helping a young lady like you out. I have absolutely no idea if you'll ever see this. You've been away for quite some time. But, until you are home for good, I promise to continue helping you out. Though, I've had a few complaints of arriving late to my Cat Cafe in the mornings...I love you, dearly, little Homura!
~ Kanola Mizuko, September 8th, 2008"

"This was all your doing...?" Homura smiled, forgetting that she was crying. "I'm sorry...but it's been a waste..."

Homura gently placed the letter on the table as she turned and walked in her room. Opening up her desk for homework, she discovered her old phone.

Opening it up, she was surprised to find that it still had a little battery life left.

"Old stuff really does last, doesn't it?" Homura laughed in spite of herself, immediately going to the photos she had taken.

There were hundreds of photos, some with her mom, sitting together on the sofa, some of the meals she made while living alone, some of Naomi and Totoko, some of her good grades to show her father ahead of time in the past, then, there was a single one of a boy Homura no long recognized.

"Who...is that?" Homura wondered, staring at the photo of what was clearly Jyushimatsu. Just as an idea came to her mind, her phone turned off, having died. "It doesn't matter anymore...it's not like they'd want to know filth like me..."

The doorbell suddenly buzzed, causing Homura to nearly jump out of her skin.

Rushing to the front door, Homura looked out the window, seeing a middle aged woman, her hair up in a mess bun.

Homura answered the door nervously, slowly opening it.

"A-Are you...I mean..h-hello!" Homura stammered, avoiding all eye contact with the woman. Maybe just maybe she didn't know who Homura was and wouldn't judge her.

"I'm Kanola," the lady smiled, holding up a bag of goodies. "I noticed you on my way home today, and I knew it just had to be you. I stopped back by my cafe and brought you a few 'welcome home' treats."

"T-Thank you so much for taking care of.." Homura stopped talking as Kanola silenced her, handing over the bagged goods.

"It's my pleasure, really. I'll gladly do anything for a sweet angel like you," Kanola said, walking away from the house.

"I-I..." Homura stuttered as she shut the door behind her, shocked to be treated with such innocent kindness. It had been forever since she didn't feel such filthy lies and tricks behind each and every word said to her. "Nothing is going to stop me, though..."