《Breaking the Shackles of the Past (Ren Tao)》☯ Chapter Five: The Opening Door ☯
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Chapter Five: The Opening Door
Flowers of various colors and types surrounded me while I nestled onto a section of grass in an elaborate garden. I stared at the trickling fountain at its center, breathing in the fresh, flower-scented air and basking in the sunlight's warmth. It was a serene place of solace, sectioned off from the rest of the world. My sanctuary. I appreciated the comforting warmth, peacefulness, and tranquility it offered.
"Himi!" a child called out, breaking the solitary peace I was enjoying.
My eyes widened in surprise as a small, fair-haired boy, no bigger than Manta, ran toward me. His emerald green eyes, bright and filled with happiness as he smiled. He wrapped his arms around my neck the moment I was within his reach, nearly toppling me over from the force of his excited hug.
"Keisuke?" I whispered in confusion, cautiously hugging my little brother back.
"He became impatient waiting for you, so we both came out to retrieve you," a soft-spoken woman explained.
With a sharp intake of breath from the familiar sound of her voice, I gazed at the short elderly woman standing a few feet from us. Amazement shifted into longing and tenderness as a gentle expression appeared on my face, my whole body relaxing because of her presence.
"Grandmama."
An affectionate smile spread across her wrinkled face when she stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on top of my head, conjuring the memory of her soothing touch. Her long, flowing silver hair I'd admired since I was a small child, swaying in the soft breeze. An all-knowing look was visible within the depths of her warm amber eyes. It felt like they could see through me without uttering a single word. There were countless times it seemed as if they could. Grandmother had a way of knowing whenever something was bothering me, no matter how much I tried to hide it—always knew my thoughts.
"Let's go inside, Little Bird," she coaxed, taking hold of my hand. "You've been pushing yourself too hard again."
Keisuke broke our hug and tried to pull me to my feet with all his strength. "Come on!"
With their hands wrapped around mine, I stood. They began leading me down the cobblestone pathway of the garden and up to a two-story Victorian-style mansion at the center of the vast property. We walked through a set of glass French doors to get inside, entering a high-ceilinged study with dozens of leather-bound books lining the left wall. A living room with expensive furniture was beyond the next threshold; no one was inside it.
Stepping through another set of solid wooden French doors, we reached the grand marble entry hall. They escorted me up the red-carpeted spiral staircase and down the hallway at the top until we stopped in the doorway of a secondary living room.
"There's our buttercup," a thin, raspy voice said with delight.
My widening eyes landed on a slim elderly grey-haired man as he stood from one of the couches, and I took a second sharp intake of breath. Many of the same emotions I felt when my grandmother appeared flowed through me while he walked toward us.
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"Grandpapa?"
His vivid emerald green eyes, so much like Keisuke's, were full of warmth and unconditional love as he returned my gaze. The fond smile on his wrinkled face widened with each step until he stopped in front of me.
"I missed you," he said, bending down to kiss my cheek and giving me a tight hug.
"I missed you too," I whispered, returning his affectionate gestures as the warmth of his body surrounded me in a protective blanket.
He pulled away, then ushered us over to the nearest couch and sat down next to me. As our grandmother sat on my other side, Keisuke stepped in front of me and reached out. I stared at his expectant face for a moment before giving in to his silent demand, hoisting him up into the air and placing him onto my lap. Guided by instinct and the need for comfort, I held Keisuke tight and buried my face into his hair.
"You really are pushing yourself too much again, aren't you?" Grandfather said, echoing my grandmother's words. "Tell us what's on your mind, child."
I hesitated for a moment, then lifted my head to look at the French doors on the opposite side of the room. Through the glass panels, I could see a high school-aged boy standing on the balcony beyond the threshold of the ajar doors. His back was to us while he watched the sunset, a light breeze tousling his short black hair. My hold on Keisuke tightened. Even from behind, I knew who it was. The mere sight of him was enough to cause excruciating pain to return to my heart.
"I see," my grandmother said with understanding. "The memories of him are beginning to reawaken."
"I've forgotten," I replied with stern resolve, still staring at him. "It's better to repress. Lock it away. Forget."
She brought me close to her side and kissed the top of my head. "You can never wipe him from your mind completely, not when your heart still yearns for him. Just as you cannot forget about us and what we meant to you."
"I can't—"
The dream faded into black as the sound of obnoxious knocking bombarded my ears.
"Himiko!" my mother shouted. "Wake up! It's time for breakfast! I leave for work in fifteen minutes. If you're not ready by then, you'll have to walk to the museum."
With a tired groan, I nestled my face into my arms.
I didn't know whether to be glad she'd interrupted the dream or aggravated because of the noise. Was she always this loud and persistent in the morning?
When I didn't reply, my mother slammed her fist on the door harder. "Himiko!"
Lifting my head, I glared at the door and spoke over the pounding. "Okay! Okay! I'm awake!"
The offensive racket came to an abrupt end after my unplanned outburst of irritation. I stared at the door with apprehension, sweat gathering on my brow and gulping in nervousness. A few moments passed before the sound of her high heels clicking against the wooden floor reached my ears as she retreated down the hall. I sighed with relief, knowing she wouldn't press the matter.
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"Thank goodness," I muttered to myself, resting back against my desk chair and staring up at the cream ceiling.
I didn't need to get on her bad side this morning.
My tired gaze moved to the paper, notebooks, and textbooks scattered across the desk in front of me.
For the last two nights, I’d fallen asleep while working on homework. Forming an unhealthy obsession with studying to the point of maniacal enthusiasm. It was the only recourse to distract me from what happened in the cemetery. I’d even gone as far as staying on school grounds with my nose stuffed in a book until the start of cram school to avoid any unpleasant encounters. However, the dream revealed how much more effort I still needed to put in. The door to my memories was too close to opening.
"Don't think of it."
I stood, casting aside thoughts of the dream, and decided to get ready for the busy day ahead.
The spotless carpeted floor was soft against the bottom of my bare feet as I crossed the room and stepped in front of the closet. Inside, it was tidy and empty except for my clothes. Unlike most people who stashed personal effects somewhere in their room, I only bothered having the bare necessities. There's no point in holding onto or becoming attached to anything. Besides, it's easier to clean and keep everything organized this way. I sorted all the clothes based on their purpose; school uniforms hung to the right, pajamas in the middle, and casual wear to the left.
Knowing there was little time, I hastily threw on the closest pair of jeans and a plain, loose-fitting black shirt that helped conceal my ample curves. I didn't have any difficulty selecting what to wear. The left side of my closet only held several pairs of charcoal-colored skinny jeans and different colored long-sleeve t-shirts.
I hurried over to the ornate vanity near the bed to brush out the snarls in my hair. The piece of furniture was out of place in the otherwise austere room. A white sheet, gray with five years' worth of dust and cobwebs, covered the oval-shaped mirror. I chose to leave it when we moved, preferring to keep the mirror hidden from view. There's no reason to remove the sheet, anyway. I didn't care about my appearance. That's something I'd let my mother fret about.
Once all the snarls were dealt with, I walked to the desk to gather several hefty history books and one of my notebooks containing dozens of research notes. I found it challenging to get everything inside my worn bookbag. After multiple attempts at rearranging things, it was bursting at the seams. The contents within, pulling at the holes in the stitching.
A frown formed on my lips. "I need a new bag."
If I wasn't careful, it'd finish tearing at the most inconvenient time and leave me with a terrible mess to clean up.
The strap dug into my shoulder while the bag rested heavily on my hip and thigh as I moved toward the bedroom door. The six chain locks along its edge stopped me from leaving, but not for too long. I unlatched them with practiced skill, then turned the doorknob and threw open the door. In my rush to get downstairs, I darted into the hallway and almost collided with Keisuke.
We froze, our eyes widening in surprise because of our proximity and unexpected encounter. Unwelcome feelings of longing and sadness I'd buried many ages ago entered my heart, along with pain and fear.
He was much older than in the dream. Now ten years old, the top of his head came up to my chin. His eyes were wide as he stared up at me with a surprised expression that matched my own. I couldn't blame him for his reaction. This is the closest either of us had been to each other in years. The days I could hold him were over.
A fierce scowl threatened to appear on my face from the uninvited thought.
That blasted dream. I wouldn't be feeling any of this if it wasn't for what I saw last night. I'd adjusted to our estranged relationship long ago.
"Himiko."
At the sound of our mother's stern voice, we instantly moved back to put distance between us and looked down at the base of the steps. She was gazing up at me with a stony expression, hands on her hips.
"Hurry and get down here," she ordered, about to lose what's left of her patience. "Everyone else already finished eating breakfast."
"Yes, Mother."
Mindful of her piercing gaze as she followed our every movement, I was careful we wouldn't have any physical contact while stepping around Keisuke. If we so much as brushed up against each other, it would only bring forth more unwanted feelings and memories for both of us. Unfortunately, Keisuke's green eyes met mine during my deliberate attempt to stay away from him. His forlorn eyes were enough to bring the dream back to the forefront of my conscience, given my current state of mind. Grandmama's last words, in particular, haunted me as her voice echoed through my head again.
"You can never wipe him from your mind completely, not when your heart still yearns for him. Just as you cannot forget about us and what we meant to you."
I can't afford to remember. Everything would be shattered in an instant, along with my heart and sanity, and the freedom I've gained would be taken. It's better to forget and reclose the door—seal away the memories of the past forever before it was too late.
Unable to keep eye contact with him, I turned my head and pretended as if nothing was amiss when I walked past him.
We can never go back to the way things were. And it was easier to just accept that fact. Both for him and for me.
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