Blossoms of The Forgotten Day Chapter 5: Chapter 5

Read chapter 5 of Blossoms of The Forgotten Day by Simply No One on NovelPedia.

I got up from the bed and moved to the window. The white blossoms kept falling. I took a slow breath and the vapor clouded from my mouth as I exhaled. I picked up the guitar, turned to the mirror, and then my heart started pounding like something trying to break out. My body loosened drop by drop as the tears came, carrying with them a seven-year-old frame from the past. The day it happened. I was at the Kahio Music Competition, Japan's biggest contest for young musicians. It was almost my turn to play. My father was trying to tighten the knot of my tie. I kept pulling away, repeating the same line over and over like a broken record. "I will not play until she comes." He kept trying to calm me down, asking if I remembered the notes, asking me to just take my place on stage. But I stood there saying that one line until he finally gave up. He told me to play when my name was called. Then he walked out to his car, opened the bottom button of his suit jacket, and drove away to find her. A cold tear fell on my hand and pulled me back to the present. I was sitting on the study chair beside the mirror. My phone kept buzzing on the desk. I set the guitar on the bed, wiped my face on my sleeve, and picked up the phone. A message from an unknown number. Hi there Sae, it is Haruka. Hope you do not mind me messaging at this hour. I got your number from Haruki. After all, you are now my partner number one. Best wishes for the work ahead. Just do not make it too depressing, okay. See you tomorrow. A little sparkle emoji. A ribbon. Without knowing it was coming, a smile spread across my wet face. The warmth returned to my body, slow and quiet, like the first moment after stepping in from the cold. I picked up the photo frame from my desk. Haruki, Asahi, and me. My own reflection smiled back from the mirror. I lay down on the bed. The photo on one side, the guitar on the other, a little blood still dried on its strings. Somewhere in that cold and quiet night, I passed out. Sometime around ten, I woke up sitting upright. Snow was still falling outside. White and silent and unhurried. I picked up the photo frame from where it had slipped beside me and returned it to its place on the desk. Then I took a cloth from the cupboard and carried it to the bathroom. I turned on the cold metallic tap. After a few breaths, hot water started coming through. Where it touched the cold tile, the bathroom began to fog. I dipped the cloth into the stream and took it back to the guitar. I cleaned the blood from the cold metallic strings slowly, carefully, the way you might clean something you are not sure you deserve to hold anymore. After that I went back to the bathroom, brushed my teeth with cold water, took off my clothes, and turned on the hot shower. I stood under it for a long time, humming Haruka's lyrics. The hot water fell on my skin and my whole body loosened. The bathroom fogged thick around me. When I stepped out, the fog followed. I dried myself, and as I dressed, I picked up my phone and sent a message to Haruka. Sorry, but I will not be coming today. Then I went to my cupboard, took out the guitar picks, and sat on the edge of the bed. I slung the guitar over my shoulder by its strap. And I started playing. Slowly. Searching through the strings for the right beat. Searching through the quiet for the right reason to keep going. Outside the window, the white sakura petals kept falling. White and patient and still.