stars

two

"hajime... i have something to tell you," my mother said, sitting down at the kitchen table. i remember feeling dread, the kind that you felt after getting a bad grade and suddenly having your parents asking you to talk.

"what's up? i'm just about to head to tooru," i said, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl.

"it's about him, actually," she said quietly. "hajime, you should really sit down for this." her eyes spoke to me, and i realized that this was more than a bad grade as a tear trickled down her face.

"what's going on?" i asked as i sat down, my stomach starting to churn.

"tooru's parents arrived home this morning. tooru had an accident. he... he passed away last night."

i stared at her blankly for what must have been three minutes, feeling nothing.

"what?"

"tooru had a heart attack. they only found him today. the doctors said it must've happened last night."

"no he didn't. he's fine. i just texted him. he'll reply soon."

that's when it actually hit me. he hadn't replied for half an hour — he had always been a fast texter. he hadn't said goodnight nor goodmorning, all of that.

"mom?" i asked shakily.

"yes?"

"please tell me you're lying."

"i'm sorry, hajime, but i'm not. we've been invited to their home to mourn for today. the tsuya will be in three days, his kokubetsu-shiki will be the day after that." she took my hand, removing the crushed apple i hadn't noticed i was crushing. "but only if you're ready."

"ready?" i asked, still not blinking, "mom, i'm not going to be ready. i'm not ready. how can i be? he's seventeen. nobody's ready. he's not supposed to be..." tears started forming. i blinked them away furiously.

"i know. it may take a while. but you'll regret not going to his home today."

"fine. let's go. let me just... give me a few minutes."

that was a lie. i needed days, weeks, months, years to cope with the surge of emotions racing through my body. sadness, grief, anger, regret, fear, remorse, and many others, upsetting me physically and mentally until i was sitting at the table, lightheaded, and my mother placed my coat over my shoulders.