Running from Death

A young man stood at the gates of a lavish estate. A traditional-looking home that looked fit enough for two families. He could make out the trees that littered the yard. Pine trees. He had come to know it growing up on the same steps of this place. The cicadas in the air were the only other thing that gave this place any form of life before a loud buzz drew the man from his thoughts. The gates opened.

He stepped forward and made his way to the front door. It wasn’t long before it opened up and an older man stepped forward. There was a stern look in his eyes when they noticed him. The young man stopped before them and bowed their head.

“Father,” he raised his head and faced the older man.

“Fumihito, I’m glad you could make it. I was almost worried you wouldn’t show up.”

Fumihito Hanada. Twenty-three-year-old college student, a major in biology with an early year in admittance thanks to his outstanding grades, and currently the only son to the Hanada family. His frame was slouched briefly, his hands adjusting the bright red tie of his suit before he slipped them into his pockets, and his eyes lazily scrawled through the messy length of his hair that was unruly.

He stared at his father for a moment. Neither of the two gave an inch. They might have been father and son to most, but for them, it felt like they were father and son in title alone.

“You said it was urgent, Father. I was worried this might have something to do with funding. I’ve been very busy studying lately and I’ve had to apply for a few places to see which ones are going to be a good fit,” it was the only thing he could offer the man. His father didn’t seem the least bit worried, but behind the usual firmness in his eyes, it almost seemed as if the man wanted to broach something heavy.

“Come inside. We should talk more over some tea. It’s Sencha, your favorite.”

It was his favorite. Nowadays, he spent most of his time drinking coffee than he did hovering around an old tea shop. He hadn’t drunk tea in years. Not since…

A flash of memories. A warm smile. Her hand upon his face. A frail body.

‘Right. I… Nevermind.’

Some things were best put behind one, after all. With a nod, he followed his father inside and took a seat in the living room. A hand adjusted the tie around his neck once again, more reflexive than necessary, before he looked around. The place felt barren. A few awards were planted around. Pictures that showcased a family of three, all of which he avoided looking at, and the dust that gathered around was fogging up his throat. If he lacked any self-control, he probably would have gagged on the spot.

He could hear the pot boiling. The heavy hiss before it stopped after a few moments.

His father stepped back into the room with two cups. He laid one out on the table across from him and kept one close to himself. Fumihito didn’t reach out once.

“I’ve heard you’ve been doing well recently. Some colleagues of mine mentioned that you’ve impressed a few professors out of Japan. Even offered a few chances in America for a doctor’s school, is that right?”

So, he wanted to know what was going on with him. He almost scoffed. It felt so strange. The two of them never talked like this. His father paid for his tuition, the two kept in contact briefly, and that was it. That was all it had to be and that was all he wanted it to be. Time was naturally short and he’d be better off using it to study.

“Yes, that’s true. I’ve had a few offers from there which I’ve considered. There’s a school there with a great program and resources I couldn’t even imagine. Father, can I ask what this meeting’s about?” He didn’t need to beat around the bush to get an answer. It wasn’t something he’d do. “Why exactly did you call me here? It couldn’t be just because of that, so what seems to be the issue?”

His father’s eyes softened for the first time in a long time. The older man planted his drink back onto the table and planted his hands onto his lap and took a deep breath. Some people would have been concerned, but Fumihito? There was nothing on his face aside from a thin line.

“Right, you always were quick to get to the bottom of things. What I wanted to address was your time. I’ve heard good things from my colleagues, but… I’ve also heard concerning things as well.”

His eyes narrowed briefly at the words his father used.

“And just what exactly have you heard?”

The older man sighed.

“That you’ve been doing nothing but work. You attend classes, you spend all your time studying, and even when it concerns group work, you’re the only one who ever strays to do a project himself. Fumihito, you’ve done nothing but focus entirely on work,” his father spoke and dragged his eyes to face him properly. It seemed so strange. How he could ask that when they’ve been nothing but distant from one another?

“I don’t see how that’s an issue, Father. I’m focused on my work. It’s nothing that concerning, is it?” He kept his tone calm. He wasn’t going to argue with his father on this.

“It’s concerning because you’re going to be a doctor. Fumihito, we both know you can’t do everything alone. You can’t avoid people and focus on work every day. Saving people means you also have to accept help. You also have to accept the consequences that…”

And that’s when he decided to cut him off.

“There aren’t going to be consequences. I know exactly what I’m doing, alright? I haven’t had a problem, my grades have been stellar, and I’m already on my way to more opportunities than most people get in their entire life,” Fumihito crossed his arms over one another and glared at the older man who shrank briefly. “I’m going to save people. That’s it.”

“...Son, this is different. It’s not always a guarantee. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to accept that you can’t save everybody. Your mother…,” but as soon as his father spoke, that’s when the memories came back to him.

The memory of an older woman cradling him close to her chest on a hospital bed.

He nearly jumped to his feet before he sank his fingers into his thigh and growled.

“This ISN’T about her, alright? It hasn’t been about her for years and I don’t see why you’ve decided now of all times to bring it up. It’s not like we ever talked about it after, right?”

His words practically struck his father like a hammer. The words left the older man agape before they brushed a bead of sweat across their brow and bowed their head. The old man couldn’t even face him.

“I know I wasn’t always good, but this is important. For you. I admit, I wasn’t the greatest, but… I want what’s best for you. This has to stop. You can’t keep running away from things.”

It was those words that got to him. For all his life, he could only remember the distance his father kept from him. The way they never stayed behind to talk about what happened. Being alone never hurt him, but it was the fact that his father never once confronted him. He never once spoke about it.

And that line…

He shot to his feet and glared.

“Like you ran away when you left Mother to die on her bed without even trying to save her? I’m sorry, but unlike you, I don’t plan on ever giving up on a life like you did with your wife. My mother.”

The words were quick and they froze the old man on the spot. Fumihito’s breath had grown heavier. Harsher. He closed his eyes for a moment and reflexively adjusted his tie once more. His face was calm. His expression was distant. He turned around and strolled away toward the front door.

“...I’m going home, Father. I’ll see you when I see you.”

His old man didn’t offer him any words. It was better that way. They didn’t try to stop him either once he stepped outside back into the sunlight. Even as he left the estate, he scrunched his face in pain at the memories that came back to him.

He wouldn’t give up like his father. He’d save people.

And he would never give up and let someone else die again. Even if he couldn’t face them.