A Sweet Little Angel

Sad Hours

Henri had no idea what to do.  It was only a month and a half since he took in Akira to live with him and she seemed to fit in quite well. He was able to see the bubbly girl after she got comfortable, but today she seemed . . . off.

His first thought was to pass it off as a bad day that happened to her. It was probably something simple like her messing up her words in front of others or she just so happened to fall over. Henri wasn't exactly sure what to categorize her mood as to when he picked her up from her caretaker, he was appalled at her arrival.

He first greeted her more softly than usual and she returned with an equally soft and clearly upset grunt. He gave her a weak smile to which she passed off and sidled around him, making her way to the car with feeble footsteps. 

Henri silently made his way over to the driver's side and stepped into the car. He took a quick glance at her only to see her lackluster face staring vaguely out of the window. Deciding to take the confrontation to a different location, he turned on his car and drove back to their home. Once they arrived, Akira silently slunk out of the car and approached their home.

Henri hardly heard a sound coming from her.

Taking caution, Henri approached Akira as he sat next to the couch with her. With great care, he asked her what was wrong and made sure to comfort her as he patiently waited for a response from the silent girl.

Slowly, she began to open up about what happened.

"I . . . was at—there was nothing happening but . . . I—"

She paused to take a deep, shaky breath.

"I was doing everything as normal with her but . . . my uncle . . . h-he decided to visit and at first, it went off fine. There was nothing going on but it was quiet. T-Then he started to talk about how I'm not doing anything that will be meaningful and that I should seriously start to do some work in order to do something good. I know where he was coming from and I understand but . . . it still hurt to hear that. There wasn't really much I could do at that time but he began to complain about how to prepare myself and that those talks were to help me."

She let out a small, haggard cough as she spoke the last word harsher than she meant to.

And the last words she mentioned to Henri at that moment created a pang of pain to resonate through him.

"Henri . . . is—is it wrong to think like that when he meant to help?"

~~..**..~~

Sorry for being gone for so long. I'm not exactly having the best times right now and I somehow vented some of my feelings into this part. Please excuse this if it's not exactly what you were hoping for and if it was shorter than my usual. I wasn't really able to edit or do any review so I hope you can excuse the grammar. I thank everyone for their patience and I hope to bring out the actual storyline soon because it's been bothering me for some time.

Thank you so much for reading