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"Mother, what's this?"
"Hm?" The woman stops on her tracks upon hearing her son's query, walking backwards together with the pushcart until she reaches the little boy staring at one of the shelves. She smiles and grabs one can, placing it in the cart. "That's instant hot chocolate, my sunshine," she says.
The boy peers at the cart on his tiptoes, then looks back at his mother with a frown. "But Grandmother said I can't have chocolates."
The woman giggles and places a finger on her lips conspiratorially. "What she doesn't know won't hurt her. And besides," she lifts the boy into her arms, eliciting a bright laugh from him as she kisses her cheek. "It's almost your birthday. We can say that it's a gift, no? How's that sound?"
The boy nods and gives her mother's cheek a kiss in return.
"I love you, Mother."
The woman smiles. "I love you, too, Daisuke," she replies, placing Daisuke down on the ground. "Now, let's go get marshmallows."
Daisuke tries (and fails) to suppress a yawn when he pulls up outside Haru's apartment. He sends a text, notifying the inspector that he is already outside, and leans back on the head rest and closes his eyes as he waits.
It's only 6 am, an hour and 30 minutes before his supposed wake up call, so forgive him if he's trying his damn best to stay awake.
At around 6:10 am, Daisuke hears a knock coming from the window beside the passenger's seat, rousing him from his shuteye. He stretches his arms for a bit, groaning when he gets a satisfying pop from his shoulder.
The moment the door unlocks, Haru weasels inside the car, shivering from the cold outside. Daisuke chuckles and turns the heater of his car up. "Good morning to you, too, Haru."
"Yeah, yeah." Haru sighs in relief once the heat settles in him, enough that he unwounds his scarf and lets the ends hang around his shoulders. He opens his black leather bag (authentic leather bag, courtesy of one millionaire) and pulls out two tumblers, handing the white one with a printed cat on its body to Daisuke. Daisuke eyes the tumbler with a raised brow, to which he receives a click of tongue. "It's coffee, Kambe. Just accept it."
And accept it he does, twisting the cap open, revealing milky brown liquid. Daisuke inhales the scent of caffeine, the smell somehow waking him up. But there's an underlying scent that he notes.
"Instant mocha," Haru supplies and takes a big swig from his own tumbler.
Ah.
"If you don't like it, just give it to me." The older man grumbles against the metallic rim of his tumbler, taking Daisuke's inaction as refusal to drink. "More caffeine for me."
"No, you gave it to me so it's mine already." To prove his point, Daisuke gulps his own. Just as the hot liquid hits him, so does the warm nostalgia that the taste of chocolate brings him. The caffeine isn't strong enough for his liking though, and he makes sure to voice his concern out loud. Daisuke is, of course, answered with Haru's usual heartened "damned rich people" speech.
"Fine just…" Haru groans. "Go to the nearest Starbucks or whatever."
And drives to the nearest Starbucks Daisuke does.
Daisuke is a big boy.
Seven years old, but he knows he is because he'll turn eight tomorrow. His grandmother told him that eight years old is a special year because he will be named as the Kambe heir in front of their friends , whoever they may be.
Big boys should be brave.
They should not be knocking on their parents’ door at night like Daisuke is currently doing.
“Come in!” And so Daisuke does, peeping his head through the small opening to see his mother sitting on the bed, round eyeglasses perched on top of her nose as she flips the book she’s reading on to the next page.
“Mother, am I interrupting?”
At the sound of her son's voice, Sayuri looks up from what she's reading. The smile given his way while she pats the space next to her makes Daisuke grin and throws himself beside her.
"What seems to be the problem, my sunshine?" She asks, lifting her arm so Daisuke can lean on her. The young boy places an arm around her mother's waist so he can cuddle closer. "Daisuke?"
"I'm scared," he mumbles.
Sayuri hears him, anyway.
"Of what?"
He buries his head on his mother's armpit. It takes a couple of minutes of Sayuri rubbing Daisuke's back and ruffling his hair until Daisuke's able to lift his head. He doesn't look at her, though, opting instead to lay his head on his mother's shoulder and stare at the book Sayuri was reading on her lap. With a sigh, he admits, "Grandmother said I'll meet her friends who'll help me when I grow up. She said I'll be the next head of the Kambe family and that I should know who our partners are."
The young boy's gaze is too fixed on the book that he doesn't notice his mother frowning. But she schools her expression quickly and places a kiss at the crown of Daisuke's head. "You're scared of meeting them?"
"I'm scared of growing up," Daisuke says. "Because that would mean I'll do grownup things like go on meetings and wear neckties and suits."
"But you wear neckties."
"Neckties for grownups!"
Sayuri chuckles. Of course, Daisuke is concerned about neckties. More than once has he voiced out his distaste for them, deeming that bowties are better. But as he grows older, he'll have to deal with more problems other than accessories. When he grows up, he'll take over the Kambe family from Shigemaru. He'll oversee the operations of the conglomerate.
He'll open his eyes and see the dark side of this family.
If she can… if only she can, Sayuri wants her little sunshine to live a simpler life. She wants him to experience what it is to meet friends in elementary school, to have his knees scraped and bleed after a bicycle accident. She wants him to laugh and have that sweet sound not taken away from him by corrupt hands and greed.
If only she can, she wants Daisuke's problem to always remain as having to choose what tie pattern he should wear for the day.
The least she can do is to play hide and seek with him once lessons are done.
Kissing his head softly once more, Sayuri places her book on the nightstand and lifts the blanket until it covers Daisuke.
"I'll keep you company tomorrow and we can ask your father about what necktie you should wear for tomorrow," she says. "For now, you can sleep beside me. Would you like that, sunshine?"
Daisuke nods. "Sing me a song?" He smiles up at her as he resituates himself until his head is on the pillow instead of on his mother. Sayuri lifts the blankets until it covers Daisuke's shoulders. "I really like your voice."
"You're really such a charmer, aren't you?" The woman laughs, but clears her throat anyway and starts.
"Blackbird singing in the dead of night.
Take these broken wings and learn to fly.
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise."
Daisuke lets his mother's song lull him to sleep, closing his eyes as her soft voice becomes the last thing he hears.
"Blackbird singing in the dead of night.
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see.
All your life.
You were only waiting for this moment to be free."
“--did I tell you I need you every single day of my life?”
Daisuke rouses from his shuteye at the sound of Haru’s singing in accented English. After their brief stop at Starbucks, Haru fought with Daisuke over the steering wheel, deeming that the millionaire is a hopeless case even after finishing the whole tumbler of instant mocha and a venti-sized Americano.
He should’ve known better not to drink coffee in such a state because now Daisuke’s toeing the line between consciousness and the sweet promise of sleep. And it’s not really a pleasant feeling.
Beside him, Haru is drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he screams “got to get you into my life!” at the top of his lungs. He must have been bored enough to let HEUSC turn on the radio.
Oh, to have such energy at (Daisuke looks at his wrist watch) 8 in the morning.
“You listen to The Beatles?” Daisuke straightens his posture, rolling his shoulder to loosen up the kinks he sustained from his uncomfortable sleeping position. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised since you’re old and have probably been alive during the 60’s.”
As expected, Haru takes the bait and growls. “You’re the one who lived in England. Don’t English people worship The Beatles?”
“First of all, I’m a Japanese citizen who resided in England for a few years.” Daisuke holds up his index finger. “And second, that’s a stereotype. It’s as if you’re expecting everyone in Japan to like sushi and sumo wrestling.” He tries to suppress a snort when he hears the inspector mumble “but I like sushi and sumo wrestling” underneath his breath.
“And besides,” Haru adds. “We’re not that far apart in age, and you’re a year older now!” He sends a grin towards Daisuke briefly before returning his eyes on the road.
Daisuke rolls his eyes at the reminder that he’s 28 now, that he’s getting older as days pass by.
But maybe , he thinks, trying to hide a smile as Haru continues to scream the lyrics even louder to most likely spite him, so loud it overpowers the speakers. This year wouldn’t be so bad after all.
(~~)
Running away from problems is all he's ever good at. But at this very moment, Daisuke's flying away from them.
It's been 10 year. 10 goddamn years since he witnessed his own father holding a bloodied knife while his own mother lay lifeless on the floor of her rented apartment.
It's been 10 goddamn years since he lost his father from suicide. But Daisuke feels he's lost him even before his own demise.
10 years of wondering why his happy life had turned into a tragic turn; of wandering down this path of nothing but hollowness. Of anger and depression and questions.
The moment he graduated high school, he made his intentions clear to his grandmother that he wanted to study abroad. But really, that was just a farce, a lie to get away from Japan and away from the curse that is the Kambe family.
But that would've been easier if the problem doesn't reside in his own head.
That would've been easier if Daisuke can just fly to where his mother could be right now.
Because at this very moment, he's tired of being lonely. He's tired of feeling hollow. And as he stares at the dark skies outside the window, a few hours still left before he reaches England, Daisuke wishes, for his 18th birthday, that he'd simply disappear.
(~~)
The weather is much colder here in the north than in Tokyo. Daisuke tries to tighten his scarf to no avail. The black hoodie he’s wearing is engineered to have a cooling and heating system, much like the dress shirts he wears to work. But even that isn’t enough to keep the cold away. Had he not planned this outing, Daisuke would’ve been back in his home.
Underneath a pile of blankets.
With a mug of hot chocolate warming his hands.
Maybe once they get back to Tokyo, he’d ask Haru if he knows about the specific brand his mother had both all those years ago and if they’re still available in the local market.
But he needs this outing. And he knows Haru knows how important it is, if the grip on his shoulder is an indication enough. Daisuke sighs and leans in closer to Haru in hopes that his body heat will suffice, resting his head on the older man’s shoulder as he stares at the marble stone in front of them.
“I haven’t visited you in a long time, Mother,” Daisuke says. "I'm... well, I'm 28 now."
Of course, the stone cannot speak.
He doesn’t know what else is there to say. How do you speak to a tombstone? Are there any rules to follow? Daisuke doesn’t really know. Even without the presence of the stone, he’s never really talked to his mother even in just his thoughts, too consumed with anger and depression from the tragedy that befell on them. Too hungry for justice and for finding answers.
And now that he has them? He doesn’t know what to do. He can only memorize the indentations carved on the marble that spell out “ Kambe Sayuri ”.
“Sayuri-san,” Haru starts, bringing Daisuke out of his reverie, hand rubbing circles at the ball of his shoulder. “I’m Kato Haru and it’s such a great pleasure to finally see you, although this isn’t exactly an ideal scenario. But I would like to tell you that Daisuke-kun is being looked after not only by me, but also by our colleagues back in Tokyo.”
An indescribable wave of emotion washes over Daisuke upon hearing those words. He takes a deep breath to keep himself steady… even as his vision is starting to cloud.
“I would also like to ask for your permission to be a more proper senior to your son and teach him a lesson that bribery is against the law,” Haru adds. At that, Daisuke elbows his ribs, to which the older man yelps in pain and removes the arm that’s around Daisuke’s shoulder to nurse his chest.. “Sayuri-san!”
“You’re talking to a tombstone, you know," he says wetly. Haru doesn't comment on the change of his voice.
“Don’t be mean!” The older man cries. “Just because she’s no longer around physically doesn’t mean she’s not with you in spirit.” He goes back to his previous position, pulling Daisuke’s right arm to wrap it around his waist until they’re huddled closer for more warmth. “Why don’t you talk to her? She probably misses listening to you.”
“I…” he sighs. “I don’t know what to say.”
Haru taps his feet on the snow-covered ground, thinking of an idea while swaying their bodies side by side. “How about you sing to her?” He muses. “Is there a particular song that reminds you of her?”
Almost on instinct, Daisuke says “Blackbird.”
The older man smirks. “You listen to The Beatles, after all.”
“No, I don’t,” Daisuke quips back immediately. “It’s the song she sang to me the night before my eighth birthday.” He doesn't know why, of all songs, she sang that to him. But at the mention of the title, it's as if her voice still rings clear to his mind.
As if she's still here.
“Fine." Haru clicks his tongue. "I won’t tease you for that.” And then he starts humming the opening notes of the song, prompting Daisuke to sing.
“Blackbird singing in the dead of night,” he starts. The wave of emotion is back as he does so. Daisuke tightens his hold on Haru’s waist to keep himself tethered.
“Take these broken wings and learn to fly.
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.”
By the next verse, Haru joins him in singing. Their combined voices fill the cold, wintry air in this quiet cemetery in Sayuri’s hometown. At some point in the song, Daisuke wavers, overwhelmed by the memories and the emotions the song has given to him.
"Blackbird fly."
He misses her.
He misses her terribly.
He wants to go back to that night 20 years ago when he padded towards their bedroom.
He wants to feel her arms around him again as she comforts him, wants her voice chasing away his fears and crooning him to sleep.
He's a grown up now, far different from the eight-year old boy. His worries have changed from choosing patterns to chasing smugglers. Yet he still worries.
This time, Daisuke lets his tears fall freely as his voice soars towards the climax of the song. 20 years of caging his emotions has been too long. Maybe… maybe it's time he lets it out.
"Into the light of the dark, black night."
Daisuke feels as if old wounds he thought have closed have reopened. It hurts. It hurts so bad. He hasn't felt this pain for a long time, having chosen to feel nothingness instead because he thought being unfeeling was the better, wiser option.
And yet here he is.
It hurts so damn bad.
But it's euphoric all the same.
Freeing.
Maybe this is what his mother has wanted -- for Daisuke to reach this moment of being free from the bondage of the Kambe family.
But at what cost?
His throat constricts from the emotion. His voice breaks. He hiccups and sniffles and clears his throat.
Never once has Haru commented on these breaks. He only tightens his hold.
Daisuke wants to believe Haru, that maybe his mother misses listening to him. And so he hopes that this little song reaches her wherever she may be.
"You were only waiting for this moment to arise."