The Gray will Go Away, Someday

I still remembered how the city was last spring.

The green of the grass. The red and beige of the buildings. The pink of the cherry blossoms as they sprouted.

The murmurs of people chatting. The trots of horses down the street. The ringing of a train passing by.

The muddied scent of rice paddies. The subtle smell of the city. The radiant fragrances of flowers blossoming in the plains.

The rough texture of processed wood. The firmness of tatami brushing my feet. The light drops of rain dripping onto my forehead.

Everything was bright and colorful.

And yet, only a year later, all that remained was gray.

It was funny how things turned out, at least, that was what I told myself. One trip – a trip that shouldn’t have happened – stopped me from turning gray too.

I still felt the tears falling from my eyes as a blinding flash illuminated the sky. The sound came soon after, jostling the train car, almost derailing it from the tracks. It took all I had to keep myself from falling over. And then, nothing. Nothing except a giant, mushroom-shaped cloud rising from the ground – an omen of where we would return to.

I walked down the ashen path, my memories overlapping with reality.

Children played off the side of the street, spinning tops or flying kites. They laughed and smiled, barely aware of the world turning around them. A nostalgic smile crossed my face as I picked a top off the ground, wiping away the soot. Vomit poured from my mouth as my brain processed their charred corpses lying limply on the ground.

The next time the fog in my head lifted, I was standing outside my house. I walked towards where the front door used to be, pushing it open in my mind. My father was still out in the fields at this hour, but my mother was already prepping dinner. She would have to forgive me for not taking off shoes. Her smile was as beautiful as I remembered it, even as her skin peeled away.

Why? That thought echoed in my head over and over. Sometimes it made me angry. Other times I felt immense sorrow. There were a few times I felt joy as I tried to suppress what occurred. It was a question without an answer – my gears rusted, refusing to turn. And yet, I couldn’t help but think:

The gray would go away, someday.

This wasn’t the first time a city was dyed with colors in spring. Crops disappeared in the wind as fires burned. Bodies piled up as wars raged on. Explosions rained from the sky as sirens wailed.

Still, regardless of what happened, the world kept turning. Some held grudges for the pain and torment wrought. Others moved on, trying to make the best of their situation. There were also a few like me, stuck between both options, unsure of which path to take.

Violence begot violence, but humans were emotional creatures. Reason didn’t always take hold of our decisions. If every person was logical, there would be no complaints about war, or maybe there wouldn’t be war at all. It simply came down to our perspectives.

So, what about me? What did I want to do? Even as I looked out to the horizon where my house once stood, I couldn’t find the answer. This monochrome view rooted itself in my mind, refusing to be forgotten. I, and everyone else, had to bear witness to this lifeless world.

Then, what happened next? Would I go back to my life, picking up the pieces after seeing all this? Or would I stay here to die, engulfed by the nothingness before me? All these unanswerable questions swirled in my head without giving me a single moment of peace. I started to run with no destination in mind, trying to escape these thoughts; however, it wasn’t long before my legs crumpled.

Guilt, anger, sorrow, joy, and a host of other emotions screamed out, trying to escape my body. I could barely hold it in. I knew that if I did let it out, I would be forever overwhelmed by these feelings, stuck in an endless cycle of negativity.

“SHUT UP!!!” I yelled, trying to expel everything that had welled up. Everything went strangely silent, but it felt…serene, nostalgic. I looked around, trying to find a cause for this feeling, though I didn’t understand why I was searching.

And then I noticed it.

A young tree, slightly lopsided, stood proudly against the flat landscape.

And on that tree grew a single leaf, bringing a spark of spring into this gray world.

It wasn’t hard to tell that the tree would not live long. It was covered in ash, and the leaf was already starting to turn brown. But it survived, fighting to stay alive in this impossible environment.

I couldn’t find the right words to describe what I saw. Actually, that wasn’t true. The word was buried deep in my heart. When I felt I was about to break, that word kept pushing me forwards. When I tried to escape into my fantasies, that word pulled me back to reality, telling me that not everything was lost. It was something so simple that anyone could have it, and yet it was sometimes so hard to believe that it would help.

Hope. Hope that no one else would have to experience this tragedy. Hope that the next day, and the day after that, would come.

Hope that the gray would go away, someday.

I found myself walking back through the city, noticing things I missed before. Little bits of grass poked up here and there, trying to reclaim what was once theirs. Buildings stood tall in the distance, surviving the initial impact. People brought in equipment, slowly beginning to rebuild the city. I could feel my footsteps getting lighter.

Of course, nothing would wipe away what I felt before. The scars still festered. The pain of the tragedy burned into my head. Those feelings would never disappear for as long as I lived.

However, I shouldn’t be shackled by those emotions. They were one part of me, pushing me forward, helping me see what came next – both the good and the bad.

I reached the station stop and jumped on the train, whisking me back to where I stayed. The city disappeared into the distance, slowly replaced by the green of forests and pink of cherry blossoms. It made it seem as though it was all just a bad dream, but I knew better.

I still didn’t have the answer to the questions roaming around in my head, and I doubted I ever would. As far as I knew, there were no correct answers. However, that didn’t mean I wouldn’t stop looking. Instead, I would live on, forever searching.

And so, as I remembered what I saw, I decided to go back to the city next spring. I wanted to see fields of grass sprouting, brightly colored buildings standing tall. I wanted to see people walking down the street, chatting and enjoying each other’s company. I wanted to smell the flowers as they bloomed under the soft moonlight. It might not be this year, or decade, or millennia, but I knew…

…the gray would go away, someday.