A Flower Named You (My Forged Wedding Fanfic)

3 - Almond Shaped Eyes

(soundtrack above to accompany your reading)

My hands trembled as they twisted and turned the lock on my classroom door, struggling to figure out what way to turn the lock in order to...well, lock it. I had already figured this simple detail on the first couple of days that I spent in my classroom, but now things were different. I was nervous, and grateful that all my students had left immediately after the bell had rung. I didn't want to make a fool of myself in front of them, fumbling with the damn door.

My hands froze in place after I tried so desperately to calm my racing mind down. I was clearly shaken up, and I needed to find my composure.

I took a deep breath and calmly turned the lock on my door. Amidst all of this, I hear Mr. Kougami's deep voice break through my chaotic series of thoughts.

"Miss Natsume? Everything okay?" He asked with a concerned tone.

I smiled clumsily, not really knowing how else to react to him watching my minor breakdown. I walked on by his classroom, making my way down the stairs.

"I'll be fine Mr. Kougami. Thank you for your concern. I'll be leaving first." I bowed respectfully as I walked on by.

"Be careful of your way home, Miss Natsume."

I thought back to the small coffee meeting we had earlier that day, I wondered if it would have been better to have told him of my intentions after all. Now he would see me at home with some kid, and no real explanation. 

'But, that doesn't matter.', I quickly reminded myself.

The clouds cast a grey filter upon the the sky and everything that it touched. The breeze was cool, and calming, but the heavy looking sky caused me to question whether or not I should've brought my umbrella.

The walk to my destination was short, but despite the weather and my instincts telling me to hurry, my panicked mind told me to savor the little time left I had alone, so I purposely slowed my pace. I observed my surroundings, watching every pedestrian on the street go about their business. I came across children, office worker's, housewives, and various other recognizable faces that I had spotted before on previous trips home from work.

Could they recognize me? Do they also remember the faces of the strangers that walk the same paths part of the way home?

It crossed my mind at the end of the day, every single one these individuals had a home to come back to. Some alone, some with their significant other, or perhaps even with their families.

I remembered my own family. The small forest-green house on the corner of Amistad Way, in sunny California was always filled with warmth, and closeness. My step-father's hearty chuckle and the scent of spices that followed my mother all over the house came to mind. My mother loved me, and my step father was everything that my real father failed to be, I was truly the luckiest girl in the world.

I couldn't picture myself ever being so far away from them, let alone never getting to see them again.

How would that feel?

My feet carried me until the front of a small school-like building surrounded by a dainty, white picket fence. The building itself, colored in various pastels looked inviting, and innocent. Beside it was a playground, small but enough to hold and entertain lonely children and their peers. Enough to keep them occupied, busy enough to keep their mind off the possibility, or realization that their parents had abandoned them.

Just how innocent was that?

Among the dozens of children that ran about, I was able to spot him. Easily... effortlessly. As if my eyes were magnets that were drawn to him by some scientific reaction. Could it have been because we were related by blood?

He sat among the brick that surrounded the many flowers that stood proudly in a tiny garden. His tiny hands reached for the petals of a chrysanthemum, and held it gently before leaning into it to take a whiff. His almond shaped eyes hid well under his long, unkempt hair, but even then I could tell that his expression was that of longing.

Just how long had these months felt for him?

He was dropped into the orphanage almost immediately after his mother died. Abandoned by his father and with no one left by his side.

I couldn't even begin to imagine the damage that could have been done to him in only a couple of brief, and lonely months. My mind thought back to the psychology classes that claimed with such passion the severity- no...the fragile complexity of the minds of younger children.

Now, I was was paralyzed by a feeling  that I couldnt name. It was a mixture of emotions so powerful, that it had my heart racing. I was excited but frightened. Elated, but worried. Relieved and stressed. I struggled to process everything.

So in that long- yet fleeting moment that I gazed upon little Harue Tsukino, for the first time in my life I thought:

"Can I really do this?"