Hello guys ^^
As already described, I'm trying to make a story about Chiaki. I can't make any promises yet, but I will try hard.
I hope that some readers will find each other and whether there is a new chapter depends on whether there is a readership.
I wish you a lot of fun anyway,
your Moki

1. Chapter - Memories

With silent steps and bowed head, the young man wandered thoughtlessly down the path. The trees began to shed their leaves, the ground rustled under his shoes. It was still warm, not unusual for this time of year. It was late summer, the sun shone golden in the firmament. Here and there you could still see people in sunglasses, young girls with skirts that were far too short. He kept himself in subtle black. That he could have caused a stir didn't matter to him. Inside he was dead.
Undeterred, he continued on this path, not realizing that anyone was following him.He didn't care. There weren't many people who would have wanted to persecute him. And so he left that behind too. The further he went, the harder his walk became. Taking one step in front of the other soon seemed like agony for him. The flowers in his hand seemed to suffer the same fate. They were blue roses, he had already bought them yesterday and looked after them in his apartment. You should at least take something from him with you.
The path seemed to go on endlessly. There was no end in sight; on the contrary, it just seemed to move further and further away. He wanted to run, but couldn't move. Again, the images in his head didn’t let him rest. He wanted to break out. If only he would finally find his peace of mind.
"Mother ..." came softly from his lips. He stopped and looked at the floor. His insides were agitated, he couldn't even think clearly. What happened to him all of a sudden?Otherwise he couldn't take his mouth too full, now he felt small and inconspicuous.
With a slow movement he got down on his knees and laid the bouquet of roses on the green grass. It swayed in the gentle wind. It bent in all directions and yet was able to return to its old shape without being damaged. Why couldn't he?
Lost in this thought, he rose again and stroked the cold stone. He was at least as cold as her body. "Mother ... it's me, Chiaki ..." he spoke softly to himself. He had long since learned that she wouldn't answer him, that it was pointless. But he couldn't get rid of this habit. Especially not today, not on this day.
"It's been twelve years ... for twelve years I've been left to myself ... Why? I ask you why all this? Why ?!" His hand clenched into a fist, his lips began to tremble. He wanted so much to forget, to accept everything as it had come.A little boy stormed into the room, out of breath. He still held on to the door handle, pumping like a cockchafer. It took him a moment to collect himself. Then he calmed down, let go of the door and strode further into the room. The sight hurt his soul. The woman in bed barely stood out from the white bedspread. The curtains were just as white, blowing in the wind. The weather was fine outside, the white clouds slowly passed the sun, seeming to take their course peacefully.
Slowly he walked closer to the bed, sat down on the chair. He had sat there the days before and waited. Nothing happened. Nothing he would approve of. The woman's condition continued to deteriorate, no one seemed to help her. He had cursed the whole world, but that hadn't changed anything either.
"Mom ..." he whispered softly and grabbed the young woman's hand. It was already cold, the color hardly that of a living being.He swallowed quietly, trying to stay strong. The tears stood in his eyes, but he bit his lip. He didn't want to cry anymore. He didn't want to show any weakness in front of her.
"Chiaki ... my darling," then he jerked his head up and looked at her. She talked to him. Her voice was broken, but he could feel that she loved him. It was difficult for her to get her lips apart at all. It was a good sign if she would talk to him.
She is doing better again!it called joyfully inside. Immediately he jumped up, he could not sit still and hold on to himself. It would be all right again, that hope grew again in him. He cupped hers in his small hands and smiled encouragingly at her.
Then the devices began to beep. It scared him, at the latest when the doctors stormed into the room, panic broke out in him. But among all the men in white coats he couldn't find one - his father.Where was he? Why wasn't he here? His gaze fell back to the woman in bed. All the men stood around her but did nothing. They looked embarrassed at the floor.
"What ... what's going on here?" The little boy burst out. He looked from one to the other, finally caught his eye on his mother. Did she also know what all the others knew? Did you mean to annoy him?
"Chiaki… please come here", it came softly to his ear. And without thinking twice, he complied with this request. He didn't want to be disobedient and besides, there was no place in the world he would rather be than with his mother. In her arms, in a tender embrace. But even for that, the young woman was still too weak. She lay limp on the bed, her head resting on the soft pillow.
Suddenly a heavy veil seemed to fall over his heart. He thought he understood what was happening. He might still be small and too young, but he certainly wasn't stupid.The tears welled up in his eyes again, it was difficult to suppress the sobs. Someone had once told him that it would be wrong to hide your feelings, just to eat everything to yourself. Perhaps that person was right, but what would that person have done in his place.
His gaze rose again only when her familiar hand rested on his cheek. Her eyes were already closed, with every passing minute more life seemed to be escaping from her body. It couldn't be, it couldn't happen. He wanted to shake his head wildly, but he kept very still and looked at his mother.
"Chiaki, my little one ... please take care of your father ...", a small smile played on her lips, then the hand slipped from his cheek and fell back limp on the bed.

"I couldn't help you ..." he managed to tear down his voice. "I just stood there and cried ... I should have done something!"His knees buckled and he sank to the floor. He hit the soft sand with his hand. His print would certainly be visible in a few days. The tears ran down his cheeks, dripping steadfastly onto the floor. They were merciless, unearthing the side that Chiaki feared most of all. He was weak, penniless.
He also bit his lower lip, trying to catch himself again. It was impossible, the pain in his heart was so much stronger. He had been alone with it for far too long and didn't want to talk to anyone about it anymore.I can do it alone ..., he told himself more and more from day to day, but he didn't want to see that he was going to die from it. It would be a chance to get to the person who meant so much to him.
With an effort he got up. A boy his age didn't have to cry, it wasn't right. He had to maintain the facade that he had built for himself over so many years.It crumbled, yes, but as long as there wasn't a deep crack, he would be able to survive all of this.
He wiped his face with his arm, but felt it burn. Then he saw blood. Carefully he tapped his lips with his index finger. Had he done it again? Still, he thought he felt better at this moment. It seemed like some of the pain had gotten more comfortable.
"I'll ... go to him. We wanted to eat, he said. And introduce myself to his new wife ... I don't even want to see her, you know? I hate him for that!", He mumbled to the tombstone. "Take care, mother ... we will meet again soon ...", with that the young man turned around and walked back the way. Slowly at first, then his steps quickened. Seconds later he started running.