Raindrops

The Beginning of the End

WARNING: includes suicide  

pitter patter

    That was the sound that the tiny water droplets were making when they landed on the black umbrella being held over a tiny nine year old's head. The young girl was huddled behind her mother,  grabbing the lady's black kimono with one of her hands as though her tiny life depended on it. She buried her face into the fabric, not wanting to see what stood in front of her.

    There had been others. Men, women, and children, who had all stopped to pay their respects, had left only a couple of minutes ago. They were all different in many ways, yes, but everyone shared one similarity: stunning blue eyes of every shade that one could think of. Now, though, it was only the two of them.

    The girl's father wasn't able to attend. He had practically shut down after the cremation, refusing any food or water, and never moving from his seat at the window.

    "Come, Uteki, dear, it's time," the girl's mother stated. The lady's voice was rough and worn from all of the screaming and crying that had happened in the last few days. Her tone was soft, but commanding at the same time.

    Uteki took her head from the black kimono and looked upwards. She was meet with icy blue eyes that seemed to hold a world of emotion, but it all was locked away by defensive barrier that almost no one could see through. The woman was tall, a good 6' 1', and had a slender build to accompany her height. Her sharp features were framed by wavy black hair that came down to her mid back. Even with her sunken cheeks and red eyes, the only word that could properly describe her mother was beautiful.

    The girl, however, had, other than her eyes and  hair, inherited most of her traits from her father's side of the family. She was short, only reaching her mother's waist, and had a chubby, childish face, with rosy red cheeks and short, curly, dark blue hair. Her eyes, which used to be a light blue, were now a shade darker, the only evidence of Uteki's shattered innocence.

    She shook her head from side to side, gripping the incense and flower bouquet tightly in one of  her tiny hands. Uteki didn't want to look forward, much less walk there. Every single time the young girl looked at that reached piece of stone memories of his last moments flooded through her mind, and she didn't want to see them again, not when they visited her every night in her dreams.

    The woman gave her a look that screamed 'now', and gave the girl a nudge. She forced her legs  to walk forward, and focused on the Sakura tree right behind the object she so desperately didn't want to face. It was in full bloom now, its petals drifting down onto the muddy ground. A ghost of a smile appeared on Uteki's face, the first to appear in weeks. It was still beautiful, despite the ominous rainclouds behind it. Her family had made sure that a Sakura tree had been near by.

    You always used to call me Sakura. You said it was because I was so fragile, like a single petal of a flower. You said that you would always be there to protect me --- so where are you now? 

    Continuing forward, the little girl felt warm water hit her face and hair. It was as though the rain its self had come to pay a visit to him. Each step sent a jolt through her body, as if warning her of what she was doing.

    Uteki could have manipulated that rain away from her, but it took way too much concentration  to do that. It was much easier to control vast amounts of water than tiny individual droplets. So, she simply let them fall chilling her to the bone.

    Finally the girl reached her destination and knelt down, her already wet kimono becoming soaked by a puddle. The distance was only a few feet, but it had felt like miles. She put the incense and flowers in their respective places, she wouldn't be able to burn the incense due to the fact that it was raining. The flowers were dark purple irises that Uteki had picked on her way there, feeling that it was disrespectful to come empty handed. In the Japanese flower language Irises stood for good news. It couldn't be any more wrong.