The Memory Of Heavenly Hymn
23. Flashback: Noctah
“Young Master, why not ask to buy it again?”
Not poking the question of a man carrying an umbrella who shaded the Young Master from the drizzle. Ryuji sped up his steps with a bit of gasp as the start of his day was interrupted, and almost made his heart loose as Yashuhiro suddenly broke through his room with a messy appearance like he had just woken up just to make sure of his condition.
Not only that, Riichi and Yashuhiro were dramatic when Ryuji asked for permission to go out to look for his lost item. The father continued to suggest spreading the servants, while the eldest Kazuya would buy him a new one. The second recommendation was rejected, but again offered by the head of the family if they want to go out must use a horse carriage because the weather is very cold, and of course answered with a headband. The final decision of the two men older than him is to bring in an aide Riichi or the boy is not allowed to leave.
Drizzling more and more, the water dots from the sky landed on the leaves, making him slouch before being poured into the ground. Although the spatter hit, creating a clashing sound in each place fell, not enough to force people to undo the intention of passing. The umbrellas are open, and the object is reminiscent of mushrooms that are often in the food, the, examples such as kinoko gohan—nasi goreng which smells inviting taste when the young master followed by aide Dad continued through one of the food stalls.
Steam billowed out of Ryuji's lip niche, rubbed his hands, then stuck them to his own cheeks. Ignoring the inducement to stop for a moment to stop by the store to order a warm drink, even the white decomposed child deliberately tracked the puddle so as to make the guards grimace.
“Bad child.”
The boy looked up, took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. A hand stretched out in front of the Young Master became a warning signal to keep his distance. The familiar figure is tilting the head to the right side, the corner of the heart-shaped lips lifted, accompanied by a slow blink displaying a blue radiance that is not cloudy even though the sky is surrounded by gray cloudy.
The adjutant took out a small wooden irus, dipped water in the container Fuyumi had provided, and flushed the Young Master's two feet. Meanwhile, the owner closed his eyelids, giving the impression that his soul was experiencing very deep regret. Off guard, thus creating a lot of gaps, and vulnerable to harm.
A sheet of cloth is rubbed on the thin and weak white legs like rarely used to walk on their own feet. The man did it very slowly as if afraid his actions could hurt because his hands were used to lifting weapons. So he behaved carefully, repeatedly reminding himself that in front of him is not a sword blade that was cleaned after bathing in blood from the battlefield, he said, but the feet of a little boy who had just played rain water with a feeling of sadness.
An agitated highlight was unable to be hidden despite being covered in a dark scarlet veil that stared straight at anything before him, then rolling towards the silhouette of the girl with the light blue kimono walked over. Just when the bodyguard finished drying out the Young Master's limbs, and squeezed the cloth, then placed it on a tray right by the side of the water container.
Fuyumi took the spot to Ryuji's left, unfolded the wrapping cloth, and displayed the item she had been looking for.
White unraveling boy sighed, “why not be returned?” there was no emotional tone, nor was there any resentful murat on the forehead. There is also no upset look when the other person answers his question.
“I think you don't need any more, and buy a new one,” Fuyumi said without letting out a smile on her pretty face.
"What do you mean?" fuyumi asked with an awkward laugh.
The Young Master's body moved backward leaning with both hands as a pedestal. Turning his face towards the fish pond used as the center point of the residence, then his gaze was fixed on the room full of paintings, then his head looked up. Observe the rainwater that settles on the edge of the tile. “You think that an affluent person is able to replace whatever is lost. Abundant treasures, but can not cover the emptiness.”
Without blinking, his eyes followed the fall of the water pile earlier. One drop creates a small spark as well as a concave wave before it mingles with the puddle.
Fuyumi shook her head, her gaze gradually descending downwards staring at Ryuji's index finger tapping the wooden floor with the tempo of the knocking pausing for quite a while.
The white unraveling boy let out a long sigh, closing his eyes. “Valuable loss feels like the world suddenly collapses instantly. Kalut of course, because it is difficult to find the same, even though it feels different,” continued Ryuji straightforwardly, still maintaining calm speech even though his heart feels messy. “The reason is memory."
The bodyguard just locked his mouth tightly, then secretly glanced at the Young Master to check how he looked when making the sentence, and his heart was slashed when he found the line of the upward curve in Ryuji's appearance. As the eyelids slowly opened, the man hurriedly looked away.
“Why do you talk like an adult?” seloroh Fuyumi break down the nuances of sad, or maybe even add to the increasingly bitter situation.
“Self who said if pain should be voiced, but why do you seem to have difficulty hearing complaints?” glances from the tail of his eyes sharpened towards the interlocutor. No matter who was older than him, it seemed that Ryuji's mood was deteriorating. It was proven when he straightened his back with a cynical smile.
“The flute,” glimpsed object made of bamboo, placed next to it by fabric-floored Fuyumi, “Kakak Yashuhiro, the maker,” Ryuji continued.
Fuyumi's head was raised, and Ryuji's eyeball was immediately trapped.
“Kakak took pains to find bamboo, and made it. Instead of telling people to do the trivial thing or maybe they can buy in the market. But the biggest reason for doing all that by itself was my silence,” a pair of eyebrows swooped in, he inhaled like he was gathering all the anger, and by exhaling he meant to throw away the emotions that were stirring.
“On music, let me talk and tell good stories bad condition of the heart, also often I play humming nestapa because it can not stand the destiny of this world. But, Brother Yashuhiro, always present and trying to entertain, even though I am in tantrum,” Ryuji picked up a bamboo flute that has a carving character of his name, “dan, I hope you understand the nature of memories. On the head it is attached, and binds the heart very tightly. When remembered it hurts, but if forgotten all the memories it feels sad.”
Fuyumi's shoulders relaxed after hearing a speech that reminded her of the first time she met. He hugged his mother right in front of the two children whose families had died. How could he be so cruel to them? Why did he scratch a gaping wound?
