«did you think you can escape these barlines?»
※
twinkle twinkle little star,
how my heart is black as tar.
up above the world so high,
all my sorrows sit and lie.
twinkle twinkle little star,
how i wonder who he is.
︴
The First Hidden Colour
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Chiharu's POV
A week has passed since then.
Had I not taken the time off from school for three days, I swear I would have gone mad.
Hikaru hasn't woken up. His pale lips kept haunting me. His pale face constantly appearing in my dreams. I could never concentrate.
I've come to accept the fact that the whole car accident was actually my fault. But I'm not going to harp on it. I had to move on.
Hikaru's mother had quietly dropped by a number of times. She'd usually sit beside her bedridden son, her head bowed as she rubbed her son's cheeks.
She would always mumble something to herself and she would always have a soft expression on her face. Maybe, just maybe, I could talk to her; possibly apologise for what had happened. She would never initiate a conversation with me when she visits.
I rubbed the warm, moist towel on his face, cooling his body temperature down. Gently, I dabbed the towel on his forehead, cleaning the littlest things on it.
"Yamasaki-san."
I dropped my towel, a little startled.
I turned around and I see a woman, dressed in white and black.
She was holding a bouquet of flowers in her hand. Her dark brown hair shone a little under the dim hospital light. She had a small sad smile on her face as she gracefully looked back up.
"Auntie Kae..."
She settled the bouquet in a vase beside the bed and made her way to my other side. She grasps her hand and smiled at me sweetly.
"How's... he doing?" She looks back to the body laying peacefully on the bed.
"He's okay... I guess..." I spoke softly.
Silence engulfed the room. The sound of the running electricty took over the silence, as if trying to initiate a conversation with us.
It was awkward, talking to her properly for the first time. So much fighting had occured between our two families.
It almost seem like a Romeo and Juliet type of play. If it were, thank god that this wasn't written by Shakespeare.
"I'm sorry," She said abruptly and bowed her head . I never expected she'd apologise. In fact. I should be the one apologising. I got her own son into an accident. Of course I needed to apologise.
"I-It should be me who should be apologising! I got him into this mess after all..." I waved my hand at her, gesturing her to lift her head.
