𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙀𝙎𝙎𝙀𝘿 on the 𝙎𝘼𝙈𝙀 𝙎𝙆𝙔 - 𝚔𝚎𝚒 𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚊

34 - Anchored To Your Side

i made a spotify/yt playlist to listen while reading this chappie. see the comment section. ✨

☔

Once Mom's schedule had cleared, we immediately went back to Miyagi. I was given the chance to say good-bye to everyone. Most especially to Dad and his family. Also the whole volleyball team. And some of my acquaintances in school.

Three days before the eighth day, I've started packing my things up. Thus on the next day, early in the morning, we go back to Tokyo. And this time, Kei is with us. Well, on the eighth day, we have time to spend. It's also less hassle if he'd come with us, because it takes less than sixteen travel hours to reach Tokyo from Miyagi.

On the evening of the sixth day, we all took our rest and slept.

Seventh-day, I make sure that my things are complete and ready. After that, Mom, Kei, and I have our own little bonding. We cook snacks as we watch movies; play some board games; and plan what museums we'll visit. We also have this small talk about life, but none of us mention the departure.

The night arrives, time to rest. Kei is staying in the guest room as I in mine.

Soon as my head hits my pillow, I have no idea how much time I waste being awake. The day is about to come. No matter how I pray to make time go slow, it won't happen. Seems like time is telling me the harsh truth that the universe will still work normally, even though I'll leave with Mom, and none of the things will be affected by it.

I sit down, slowly sliding my feet down the floor. Standing up, I walk towards the door. Gently and cautiously, I pull down the lever handle of the door and open it. I tiptoe to reach Mom's room. I may not see things clearly, but I thank my body's kinesthetic memory that familiarizes every area of this unit without the much help of my eyes.

Sheepishly, I open her door and see a figure lying on the bed. Her room is bathed with dim lights coming from the moon striking through her windows.

"Lorraine?" Mom appears to be awake still.

"Hi," I awkwardly greet, "can I sleep with you?"

I sense her grinning, "Come here."

I willingly jump on her bed and automatically lock my arms around her. As I bury my face in her clavicle area, tears immediately burn my eyes.

Somewhere deep inside my heart, I don't want to face the reality . . . but I will leave. I'll be leaving. I always cry myself to sleep thinking about it.

Mom grabs my hand and filled the gap between my fingers. She kisses my head and says, "We've talked about this, right?"

I press my head harder, nodding weakly. "Do we really need to leave? I'll still grow without leaving . . ."

"You really love the people you meet here, huh?" Then she caresses my hair soothingly. "Just tell me if you don't want to continue this, I won't be resentful."

"I can't do that, either." I didn't come this far just to back out. "I just wish I have more time . . ."

There's really a pain in leaving the place I learn to love, a place where inexplicable and immeasurable memories are made. And leaving is just like cutting my throat off by a knife.